#chapter four; palpitation

[icallhimjoey]

AAHH my favorite bitch back at it again! This will be a 5 chapter fic, correct? Because we best make him the FILTHIEST of martinis that makes him drop to his knees and kiss the floor we spill drinks on walk on. He better recognize we are more than just cute 😤😤😤

well, best we can do is TRY, isn't it? And that is, if Martin will let us... Wordcount: 3.7K

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Mistaken, Not Stirred

part one - part two - part three - part four - part five

“Surprise, surprise. Look who's back again. For the, what, fifth time this week, is it?”

“That’s... that’s no way to speak to a customer.”

You let your mouth smile so hard, it made your sarcastic eyes disappear entirely.

“What can I get you?”

“Oh, that’s all right, I think...” Joe started, and Martin reached to place a drink down on the bar where Joe would usually sit. Joe pointed at it for you to see, like you were dumb to even suggest you had to take his order. “I’ve already got one waiting. But thank you. Next time.”

Disrespectful idiot.

You didn’t like Joe.

You did. You liked Joe a lot. But you didn't like him, you know?

It had been a few weeks of this now, and the comments had become more and more biting. Always said with smiles – ones that didn’t reach your eyes, nor his. Never mean or actually bitter, but there was definitely a “you suck at this job you stupid cow” vibe coming from him, and a “you come here too often you sad sack of shit” vibe coming from you.

It made Martin bite away sly smirks and swallow his obvious laughter when he witnessed you interact with each other.

You just didn’t like how Joe seemed to act like he was above you in this bar, even though he didn’t even work there. Only vaguely knew the manager. Came in a couple nights a week, mostly by himself because he didn’t have any friends.

You didn’t know if that was true, but who the fuck spends hours in a bar by himself if they have actual friends to hang out with, you know? Man was a loner. A real loser.

Shame he looked so good. And shame that it always made your heart beat faster when you saw him walk in every couple of days. You’d tell it, fucking knock it off with the palpitations, I don’t have time for this shit, he called us inadequate, you stupid bitch.

Cute too, sure. He had called you cute as well. It was why he made you blush just by looking at you.

But he’d wished Martin good luck with that one and he obviously had meant you. So you didn’t like Joe. Even though you did. And even though he’d been right.

Because Martin really did need good luck with this one, you thought, mentally pointing a fat thumb at yourself. Martin hadn’t called you inadequate to your face, yet, but… the message was clear.

No one else got told to just go sit and to closely watch what he did. See how he made drinks. Learn from what you could observe. 

Martin had said it all politely, but had grabbed onto you by the shoulders and steered you around the bar without any hesitation. Gestured at the barstools there and… you were a little dumbfounded at first. 

“Just... so I just sit…? And watch?”  

“It’s a little too busy to have so many bodies behind the bar.” 

You were in everyone’s way a lot, is what he meant.

James had shoved you aside more than once and had dropped a bottle of sticky syrup when he bumped into you. Somehow that was your fault. You’d been standing in a spot you weren’t meant to be standing, because apparently you had to by now be able to anticipate his every next step all night long.  

You sat down closest to Martin’s station.  

Decided if you were going to be tasked to watch and learn, you might as well watch and learn from the best.  

It had been three days since you’d been called cute by a stranger and three days of trying to mix the perfect dirty martini.  

And it really shouldn’t be so difficult. You knew the steps. You knew what went into the glass. You could do everything exactly the same as Martin would do it, but somehow, you thought it always didn’t come out right.  

Martin said yours was good. Had tasted the dirty martini you’d mixed before opening just to show him you knew exactly how now, and he’d said, “Yea. Good. So that’s one drink down.”  

Only thirteen more to master from the current menu.  

And then whatever other random off menu drinks people would ask for. Like frozen cocktails that weren’t on the menu. But there was blender behind the bar, and people would go, “I see you have a blender, can I have this drink, but have it frozen, please?” and Chloé would tell them, of course! And then would have you try your hand at it. 

You weren’t sure if she was giving you the orders she knew you were going to fuck up just to mess with you.  

But you were kind of fucking everything up, off menu or not, so, probably not. It was likely more an issue of incapability on your end than a malicious thing on hers.  

Martin made you sit and watch him, and after a little while, he passed you a little notepad and a pen. It was weird to have someone rest their head on two stacked fists on the bar all night. Taking notes made it look like you were actually doing something. So Martin started giving instructions on what he was doing whenever he could, whenever he felt he had the time to do so, to give you things to write down.  

He didn’t have a lot of time to do so, though, so you just started writing down what you saw. Wrote down ingredients. Step by step instructions. Utensils and glassware used. 

You had to be quick though. 

Martin was fast.  

You had to keep eyes on his hands and hope that what you were writing down was still readable after.  

In your focus, you hadn’t noticed that someone sat down next to you. 

Someone who now had to sit at the long end of the bar, cringe, eyeroll, so very annoying, because you so happened to have taken the seat he’d usually occupy.  

Joe sat down and sort of watched you for a little bit. Looked at what you were doing. Puzzled together why you weren’t behind the bar doing your job, or trying to do so at least, and instead hogged his favourite seat.

He saw how you didn’t break eye-contact with Martin’s hands and chuckled to himself when he saw your handwriting.

There was no way you’d be able to decipher that. Didn’t even look like you were writing down words.

He looked on as your pen slipped off the paper and left a mark on the bar. 

“Careful, that’s the end of the note right there,” Joe said, condescending, too late to actually be helpful.  

You rubbed at it with a finger and quickly got your eyes back on Martin. 

You’d missed a step. 

Shit.  

“I’m sorry, I’m trying to pay attention because,” you paused, wrote down what Martin did with some lemon zest.  

“Because…” Joe egged you on. 

“Because apparently, I can’t mix my cocktails right.”  

“Oh,” you heard next to you as you watched Martin finish the drink, followed by, “So, you’re aware?” 

Hm?

What the fuck? 

You frowned as you looked down at your note and tried to process if what you just heard had been right. Then you slowly looked up, eyes first, then your head followed, and, oh no, this was the guy.

There wasn’t even time to think of a smart comeback quick enough, because the realization immediately made you move onto different things.

“Dirty martini!” you exclaimed, eyes wide, and you immediately got up. Well. You tried to immediately get up. The barstool scraped against the floor loudly, but it didn’t move back far enough, and you got caught between the chair and the bar and it made your tits land on the edge awkwardly before you turned and let your feet find the floor properly.

The whole scuffle of it made the little smile on his face break into an actual laugh.

“Careful,” Joe laughed as he hovered a hand near you that did nothing, all pretend helpful.

But the second you were off the seat, you got instructions to get back on.

“Sit back down.” Martin said, eyes not even on you, and it was stupid how quick you climbed back onto the seat again. It was also stupid how you were legitimately proud of yourself for succeeding at something Martin asked of you.

“This one’s for Joe,” Martin said as he placed the drink he’d just finished right in front of this guy. Joe, you’d just learnt. “But you can get him a dirty martini next if he’ll have one.”

Martin looked at you like you were a child, eyebrows raised up high on his forehead, and then when he turned to Joe, he broke into a grin. It felt like it was a smile that made fun of you a little, but then he said, “Let me know what you think, I need to sort the Christmas menu.” and you hadn’t even considered the menu changing soon.

Fuck.

That meant there were more drinks you were going to have to learn how to make. Things with seasonal ingredients. Things that were more festive. Things that included fire maybe, and you weren’t ready to light yourself on fire. You weren’t ready to see the horrified reflection of your hairdresser in the mirror as you explained that it was just an accident, and could she please fix it because you had a big New Year’s Eve party to attend soon?

 You didn’t get to make Joe his dirty martini that night.

Or the next time he came in.

Or the time after that.

Instead, you got to listen to him wince, hiss and then laugh when you dropped a full tray of drinks over yourself before you could even step around the bar to bring them over to the right table.

Instead, you got to see him hide a giggle when you held a bit of orange peel the wrong way when you squeezed it over a drink, spraying the juice right into your eyes.

Instead, you got to see how he seemed playfully impressed when you bit back at a comment Chloé made about you needing to get out of the way after she bumped her hip into you, and you’d said that it wasn’t your fault she had a fat arse.

When you looked at him though, he’d pretended to be absolutely scandalized. Like he was on her side for it. Like he was about to go, "Are you just going to take that, Chlo?" and egg this on.

When he didn't see you look, you'd seen him smile softly to himself and, you know what, he could actually piss off for real, who did he think he even was in the first place?

You’d apologized to Chloé immediately after, terrified Chloé would be offended, mortified you’d started an actual fight, but you’d seen a flicker of joy across her face, and you had felt comfortable enough to show a little of a smile in return. Felt like the first little bit of acceptance, of you speaking her language, and all it took was a little gas to the fire.

Instead of getting to make Joe a dirty martini, Martin made you do a million other things. He had you take peoples orders, had you learn how to close the bar to make opening easy and efficient the next day, had you prep ingredients the correct way, and had you do mundane shit like cleaning floors, tables, toilets, et cetera, et cetera.

You basically got to do anything but make drinks.

And Joe was the type of person to give you tips from where he was sat. Unwelcome shit. Things like, “Missed a spot here,” when you would wipe down the bar, or, “That table has been waiting for ages,” when you were just about to go over to take their order.

But Joe was a guest, and you were meant to be friendly and polite.

So you’d smile your most inauthentic smile and would tell him thanks in your flattest voice.

It always made him laugh.

Which, in turn, always made Martin smile.

Weird how that worked.

“Good evening,” you’d tell Joe when you’d see him walk in, all exaggerated faux politeness which he easily accepted from you. Before he’d even be able to go and sit down, before the coat was even off, you’d raise your pen to your pad and would ask, “What can I get you?”

And Joe’d just smile, like he couldn’t help the grin, and then he’d nod his head down, scrunch up his nose and point towards the bar before walking over to where he always sat. Where he’d take his coat off and reveal he was wearing a shirt with the first three buttons undone, sometimes even four, showing off literal cleavage. You didn’t need to get him anything. He’d get whatever Martin was already loudly shaking in his shaker.

It felt a little like you were put on the bench. By Martin. By Joe. Like you got to be a part of the football team, but didn’t actually get to play at all.

Didn’t get to take Joe’s order.

Didn’t get to make any drinks.

After a few shifts like that, James took pity on you, and when Martin left him in charge for the rest of the night, he’d given you an order to make.

Fuck yes.

Excellent.

And Joe was there, too!

Maybe if you did this right, James wouldn’t bat an eye if you just started on a dirty martini after, to slide over to Joe and to do what Martin always did. Ask him what he thought of it. Ask him to give a lengthy review which you knew was going to be nice words only, topped off by the satisfaction you’d get from him expecting the worst and then tasting the best.

You wanted to see that face. Feel it in your bones.

The Simon-Cowell-watching-Susan-Boyle-for-the-first-time face.

But then you didn’t do it right, did you?

You poured all liquids into the cocktail shaker and closed it properly, like you’d been shown how, but, you weren’t meant to put all liquids into the shaker, were you?

You were meant to keep the carbonated drink to the side and add that directly to the glass after you’d mixed the rest of it.

You only shook it twice.

Maybe three good, violent times, to really get the ice to rattle.

The cocktail shaker exploded in your hands.

You gasped as the cold drink hit your front, and stood there, frozen as the drink dripped down your face.

You saw Joe very slowly reach and wipe underneath his eye with his middle finger as he rapidly blinked, like a little drop had made it onto his face.

There was no way any of that had gotten onto him, but the fact that he pretended that it did was just as infuriating as it was embarrassing.

James and Chloé stood there frozen also, until James reached for a dishtowel and hit you in the face with it.

“I think maybe Frank needs help,” he had then said after you’d finished cleaning, and were sent upstairs to join Frank by the door.

Not the worst job.

Frank was nice, didn’t mind a break from playing solitaire on his phone for a chat, but... joining Frank by the entrance was the bar equivalent of being put on time out, and Frank knew it too.

When he saw you come into view as you dragged your feet up the stairs to where he was sat, he smiled and said, “What’d you do this time?”

You plonked onto the barstool next to him in the small little hallway and sighed as you leant back against the wall.

“Put fizzy drink into a shaker.”

You bonked your head against the wall behind you, once, twice, three times.

“Shook it.”

Frank huffed a laugh, said, “Nice.” and got back to his game on his phone.

“When do you think I'll get fired?” you asked jokingly.

“Hmm, a week, give or take.” Frank answered, eyes on his phone, and you couldn't help but laugh.

“Nice.”

As the night came to a close, you saw people out along with Frank. Opened the door for them. Wished them a lovely rest of their night.

Just when you thought you might as well go down to help James and Chloé with closing, the both of them came up the stairs, talking, laughing, both in their coats already.

“Hey, what’s...” you faltered, confused. There was no way they’d actually finished already.

“We’ve done most, you’ll be fine finishing up, yea?” Chloé asked. It wasn’t a question for you to answer though. She was already standing outside when James tried to give you some last instructions.

“Use the key in the cash register, leave it in the letterbox after locking up.”

You just looked at him. Blinked a few times, because, were you allowed to do this on your own? Would Martin be okay with you closing the place by yourself?

“You got this!” James smiled, and you knew it was just that he was happy to be fucking off early for once.

When the heavy door fell shut behind them, you stared at it a second before you huffed a humourless laugh.

“What the fuck was that?”

“I still got half an hour on my clock,” Frank said after checking. “Do you need any help?”

You considered it for a moment.

“That's kind of you, but... I actually don’t, thanks.”

You didn’t.

Martin had practically let you close on your own before. He’d just been sat at the bar whilst you worked around him, big grey folder opened and pen in hand, doing whatever admin needed doing.

“Join them. Have a... somewhat early night.”

It was late.

“You sure? Can’t place blame with me for anything if I’m not around.”

“Fuck off,” you laughed. “I’ll be fine.”

You said goodbye to Frank, closed the door behind him and sighed.

Fine.

This was fine. You could close by yourself. Lock up by yourself. You’d be there for opening the next day anyway, so if you were to leave anything undone, you’d be able to pick up where you left off, stepping on your own toes, no one else’s.

You made your way back down the stairs.

Around the corner. 

Past the toilets.

Down the dark hallway. 

Into the bar, where... there was loud music playing. Loud music.

When you stepped inside, you were fully expecting to be alone but then realised: you'd not said goodbye to Joe yet.

And there he was.

Behind the bar.

Hands near the sound system, like he was trying to figure out how to use it. The song skipped to the next one, and Joe clapped his hands together once before he held both arms out wide as he spun around.

Teeth bitten into his lip, he made eye-contact with you near the entrance and... danced. Did a stupid hip and shoulder shake to the beat before he clapped in his hands again.

You frowned, loudly shouted, “Guests aren’t allowed behind the bar!” as you made you way over.

Joe completely ignored you. Got really into his old-man-at-wedding dance as he lipsynced along, all playful, all goofy.

When you were close enough, he grabbed a wet dishcloth and was about to throw it over. He waited for you to hold you hands up, to get ready to catch it, but you just said, “Yea, great, the tables probably still need doing, thanks.” as you slapped him on the shoulder, passing behind him to get to work behind the bar.

Not before you changed the song to something you liked, asserting power over Joe, because you worked here. Not Joe.

He could treat this place like a second home all he wanted.

You were closing the bar, so you got to choose the music.

And you expected to turn back around and see Joe get into his coat, dishcloth abandoned on the side.

You expected an overdone smile, a snarky comment, a mocking smile with narrowed eyes as he’d insincerely wish you good luck.

You expected to have to go and look to see if Joe paid for this drinks.

You expected he probably hadn’t, because by now you’d clocked in on this weird agreement Martin and Joe had, but you were going to make him pay regardless.

What you weren’t expecting was to turn back around and to see Joe bent over a table, hips wiggling as he wiped it down, focussing on a seemingly extra sticky bit, mouth pouted and brow furrowed.

Oh shit.

You didn’t like how that worked something in the pit of your stomach.

You also didn’t like how you watched Joe clean a few tables and then saw him catch you staring.

You snapped out of it and pretended you dropped something, just so you could duck down behind the bar for a second.

When you got back up, Joe had moved on to do more tables, and you were glad that he ignored the staring. He could’ve absolutely made a sassy comment to embarrass you, but he’d chosen peace over violence tonight, so it seemed.

Dirty martini.

Yes.

A filthy one.

You could make him a dirty martini as a silent thank you, because there was not a chance you were going to say those words aloud.

Just make one and then leave it out on the bar for him to find as you cleaned up behind the bar so you could pretend you didn’t even care if he liked it or not. Be all casual about it.

But then Joe looked up at you again, and a small smile grew into a wider one and there was no way he wasn’t going to slag you off for something, so you abandoned all plans and just... went for it. Asked him in an almost challenging way, no smile to be detected, with eyebrows slightly raised,

“Dirty martini?”

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The Taglisted

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taglist currently full, sorry

[yanderu-deredere]

swallow.

★ you don't know what the hell you drank last night but whatever it was, you needed to stay away from it forever. and you needed to get out of here. even if last night was the most perfect night in the world.

a/n: here's that next part that i promised ya'll and it's full of lore and i really enjoyed it a lot! it's definitely something and i hope you guys enjoy it! the next and last part will be out tomorrow so hope you guys are excited for that

like always, heed the warnings and hope you like it! not as smutty as the usual content! might actually be a bit sad...

part one (bite.) ★ part two ★ (chew.) ★ extras (bite and chew.) ★ extras (taste) ★ part three ★ (here) ★ part four (digest.)

pairing: poly werewolves x male reader word count: 2544

warning: bottom reader with male parts and pronoun, no explicit sexual stuff but allusions to what happened in the previous chapter

It felt like you woke up slowly and then all at once; you were vaguely aware of the things around you like the blanket over you, the body against you, the clothes on you, and then, suddenly, it hit you like a truck.

You bolted upright, heart palpitating in your chest, your eyes wide and your breaths coming in short soft spirts.

Then, you were looking behind you, still panicked, hoping everything last night was some sort of fever dream.

Beside you, on the couch, was Leonard, his fluffy hair a messy nest this early in the morning. His glasses were off, probably tucked safely away somewhere. He was yawning and rubbing at his eyes, looking at you all dazed and confused.

Oh, no.

"Wh-Wh-- Leo." You stuttered out before cupping your forehead, your head feeling like it was spinning "Please, tell me, last night--"

"You didn't fuck me within an inch of my life? No can do." Leonard didn't even give it to you slow and soft.

You let out a sound like a dying cat.

"What, don't tell me I was wrong about you." Leonard crossed his arms, looking angry at the fact that you were looking a little anxious "You said you were into guys."

"I'm into guys!" You snapped a little, your panic rising to something you couldn't control "I just-- I have a girlfriend! I hadn't even broken up with her yet! I cheated on her!"

Leonard looked a bit off-put by how you spoke to him; understandable seeing as your tone wasn't exactly friendly.

You wanted to apologise because it wasn't entirely his fault. It took two to cheat and, though he pushed you, you were the one that ended up caving eventually.

Before you could apologise, however, he just huffed and threw a pillow into your lap "Oh yeah, stellar girlfriend you have there! She hasn't even messaged you about where you are and she left you at the bonfire!"

You stopped for a second, confused, your anger dissipating as a nauseating feeling appeared in your stomach "How do you know that?"

Leonard seemed to realise that he made a mistake because his anger dissipated immediately too, replaced with an embarrassed expression "I-I--"

"I'm sorry he went through your phone."

Your head snapped back and you looked to see it was Mel with a tray in his hand. Behind him and to the side was Isamu with a similar tray in his hands too.

"Mel! L-Look, I-I didn't mean to!" Leonard snapped, turning his body away from you "I was just charging your phone and it turned on! There weren't any notifications so I looked through it and checked!"

"What kind of a pathetic girlfriend doesn't even text her boyfriend after he's been gone an entire night?" He continued, shaking his head, his tone absolutely disgusted.

"We wouldn't treat you like that." Leonard added, that disgust made way for a more sheepish expression as he finally glanced at you, hoping you would pick up what he was putting down.

You could, if you wanted to and, honestly, a part of you did. But you were scared to. So, instead, your eyes flickered to Mel, hoping he'd help you out.

Mel was just sternly looking at Leonard.

"Here, we made breakfast." Mel pushed the coffee table close with his shin before placing the trays down, Isamu placing his tray down right after.

Then, Isamu sat on the floor while Mel sat on the other side of you, the two of them looking at you expectantly, like they were excited for you to praise them.

The two trays contained four plates of waffles, each with butter. There was also a little thing for maple syrup and honey as well as a glass of orange and apple juice for each of you.

Then, if that wasn't enough, there were some eggs on the plates too and some bacon. It was a whole buffet, just for you. The cheater. The person who was going to leave them and go crawling back to your girlfriend.

You immediately felt bad "This is too much--"

"It's not too much! Especially after last night!" Isamu quickly interrupted you as he sat beside you, small smile on his face.

You felt your heart break a little bit in your chest but you knew you had to nip this in the bud or else you'd just end up leading them all on.

"I'm sorry, but last night-- I was drunk, and it was a mistake--"

"A mistake!" Leonard stood, his expression aghast like you'd just told him you murdered his parents "It wasn't a mistake! How could you-- Why would you--"

Mel held up a hand and Leonard immediately shut up but you could see that there were tears in his eyes that he was desperately holding back.

"I can see that there's some communication issues going on, okay, so let me just clear the air." Mel sighed, his hand still up like, if he put it down, Leonard would immediately pounce "He didn't mean it was a mistake like that, Leo, you know that."

"He just feels really guilty about cheating with his girlfriend, right?" Mel turned to you, that polite smile on his face not exactly reaching his eyes "If you didn't have a girlfriend right now, you would stay with us, wouldn't you?"

You gulped, your mouth suddenly feeling a little dry. You took a second to think about it. In all honesty? You nodded, cheeks feeling suddenly a little hot.

"You all are really great and I had a great time. It was really fun talking with you guys and drinking with you guys and the-- uhmmm--" Your voice cracked as you got even more flustered "The sex was really great, I swear!"

Mel grinned, that brightness finally reaching his eyes. He reached over and clapped a hand on the back of your neck, his thumb rubbing soothing circles on your skin "Our darling here is just loyal to a fault, is all. Can we really blame him for that?"

Darling. You flushed even hotter at the nickname.

Like all the hot air was taken out of him, Leonard deflated, his shoulders sagging as he sighed "Whatever. Your girlfriend doesn't deserve it."

"You're right, Leo." Mel's hand on your neck fell and he used it to grab something. You realised it was your phone because he plopped it in your lap. "That's why he's going to break up with her right now."

You felt like ice water was dumped all over you.

"D-Du-Dump her? Right now?" You stuttered out as you looked to Mel, eyes wide and shaking fingers slowly taking hold of your phone.

You could see Isamu looking at you hopefully and Leonard smirking victoriously at you from the corners of your eye but all you could do was stare at Mel.

There was that polite smile again, the one that he used to cover up something much darker. It showed in his eyes; it was something predatorial, something that made you feel like a pinned insect, something that made you feel like you were in danger.

"I-I can't just break up with her." Your brain worked to find excuse after excuse, your instincts screaming at you to get out and run "I-I'd at least like to break up with her in person. She deserves that much."

Then, for some reason, you broke his gaze and looked down at your lap. When Mel sighed, you knew it had been a mistake to look away.

Instead of replying, Mel cupped your chin, his thumb and forefinger digging into your cheek a little bit. He tilted your head up so you were looking at him again and that polite smile that you were so wary of was gone.

Instead, it was replaced with that dark look he had that night, when he had Isamu in his lap. You felt less like an insect and more like a small rabbit surrounded by a bunch of wolves.

A bunch of hungry rabid wolves that wanted nothing but to chase you.

"You know we can't do that." Mel let the words out slowly, like he was speaking to an idiot or, perhaps, like it was hard for him to say "We can't let you leave for right now, darling."

"Wh-Why not?" You felt a zing of fear crawl up your spine as you tried to pull your face away from his hand. Instead of really succeeding, his grip on you just got harder.

"You have to understand that we just want what's best for you, darling. You understand that, don't you?" Mel spoke softly, soothingly, but the words weren't effective when he looked at you like that.

Like he could eat you without regret.

But, still, you tried your hardest to remember him yesterday, the way he took care of you and housed you. So, you nodded.

When you did, he let go of your chin and pulled you in by your waist, perching you on his lap.

As soon as he did that, Leonard and Isamu crowded close, the expressions on their faces akin to ravenous wolves.

It was like a trigger had been pulled and now there was something to how they were acting. You didn't understand it very well but you felt both scared and safe trapped in between all three of them.

"Why don't I explain while Sam and Leo feed you, hmmm, puppy?" Mel nosed behind your ear, his breath warm and causing your ears to turn hot.

You didn't think you had any say in it but you nodded for show anyway.

Mel looked thankful for that at least.

You thought that, when he said feed you, he meant like with a fork or something, However, Isamu and Leonard took turns ripping bite sized pieces off of the waffles and soaking them in syrup to feed you. With their hands.

You accepted them, even going so far as to lick their fingers feebly, since you felt like you didn't have much of a choice. And it seemed to placate all three of them too.

They didn't look as wolfish as before, that was for sure.

"You might not believe me but please keep your mind open." Mel sighed as if he'd had this conversation one too many times before "You see, the reason we can't let you leave is because... we're werewolves."

You stiffened in his lap. And not in the fun way.

Now, your previous wolfish comparisons felt like jokes.

Leonard snickered at your reaction, obviously amused before stuffing another piece of a waffle accompanied by a small piece of bacon into your mouth.

Mel was less amused and pressed a kiss to your temple "I know it's-- It's not exactly easy to believe. But, it's true. We're werewolves and you're our mate."

"It's why you can't leave. We won't be able to control ourselves if you try to leave." Mel continued to explain, his hand flexing around your waist as if just the thought of it made him angry or scared or something.

"It's worse for Leo. He's not had that much training." Mel hesitantly let go of your waist to run a hand through Leonard's blonde fluffy hair "His parents paraded him around in a circus. It took him a long time to find us. He hasn't had much time to learn control."

"So, what, the wolf--"

"No, not the wolf. Us." Mel immediately dismissed that thought "I know, the media promotes this idea that the wolf and the human are separate but it's not-- we're not two separate beings in one brain. We're werewolves. We're one thing."

"It's just that, when we shift, it's like being inebriated, you know? We can't control ourselves." Mel sighed, pressing his cheek against your temple "It becomes all instinct to try and help our shifted bodies to survive."

You had enough of this. You know you you said you'd keep your mind open but this was ridiculous.

Still, you supposed you owed them for housing you for a night and for, you know, hopefully eventually leading you out of the forest.

So, you gave them the benefit of your doubt "Can I see?"

It was their turn to stiffen and stare at you with shock.

"What, you seriously didn't think you'd tell me about werewolves and I wouldn't ask to see?" You huffed, crossing your arms and looking at them like they were the crazy ones.

Mel nodded like 'yeah, that made sense' but, when he looked to Isamu, the man shrunk back and shook his head like Mel was volunteering him for the War or something.

"N-No way! No way! I-I can't! I can't!" Isamu stuttered out, the panic obvious in his voice "I can't control it, not around him!"

"Well, Leonard definitely can't... You have better control--" Mel moved his hand to cup the back of Isamu's neck but Isamu moved away, shocking both you and Mel.

Leonard looked like you pissed in his cereal "That's not true! I could totally control myself!"

Mel shook his head, sigh ragged "No, you're going to end up hurting someone--"

You turned in Mel's lap and looked up at him "Why don't you do it?"

Isamu and Leonard audibly gasped and Mel looked at you like you'd suggested he cut off his dick or something. The grimace on his face would've been hilarious if it weren't for the fact that it was confusing.

"I'm-- It's not the same for me. I'm not like Sam and Leo." Mel tried to pull you back against him but you resisted, obviously displeased. "Darling, I don't want you to see me like that."

When they all looked at you like you were the crazy one, you just let out a loud noise of frustration "You get why I'm angry, right? You're telling me all of this unbelievable stuff and then, when I ask you to prove it, you won't!"

"You just keep making up excuses why you can't prove it! How can I believe you then?" You finally fought your way out of Mel's grasp, your phone in your hand as you stood, your face hot but this time with anger.

You were tired of being left to their whims! You were tired of letting them decide everything. You were tired of being scared of Mel, of being intimidated by how beefy and sexy they were.

"I'm sorry, but I just-- I think you're crazy!" You screamed, stomping your foot as a show that you were putting your foot down.

Mel looked at you sadly, like you were about to make the worst mistake of your life "Please, darling, don't."

Part of you felt like you were. The part of you that enjoyed them doting on you, that enjoyed their attention and their affection, that enjoyed the fantasy they offered you, wanted to believe them.

But the other part of you overtook that. The other part of you knew that these three were just crazy and you needed to wake up from this weird dream.

"If you won't help me find my way out of the forest, I'll just find my way out! Fucking keep playing this weird freak fantasy of yours for all I care." You stomped to the door "I need to get to my girlfriend."

Freak. Fantasy. Girlfriend.

Oh, no.

[usmsgutterson]

Cal, my love, how are you???

If heard your call for Kaz x Reader requests. If LOVE to see what you come up with for Kaz x Grisha!Reader (I'm feeling inferno, squaller, or Durant, but obviously it's up to you!) where the reader gets sicker and sicker from not using their small science! It's such a fascinating concept to me and hardly ever explored!

Back To Normal- K.B x gn! Squaller! Reader

Okay, hi! It's been nearly two weeks since you sent this in and I did write it! Editing it just took me longer than I expected and I woke up after a nap last night to discover that I have a bit of a cold developing so I couldn't edit the remainder of it and post it like I'd hoped, but I got it done today so yay, I hope you like this one!

This concept is one I've never seen a fic for but one I've debated writing a fic around in the past because the concept in and of itself is a really intriguing idea to me, and this gives me an excuse to write it and also an excuse to write a squaller! reader, which I've thought about doing but have never actually done, so I was really excited when I saw this in my inbox! Thank you so much for sending this in, and if it's not exactly what you had in mind, feel free to reach out and let me know, I'll totally rewrite if you'd like lol.

Fic type- hurt/comfort with moments of angst

Warnings- mentions of sickness, frailness, feelings of weakness, heart palpitations, loss of appetite, and there's reference to the second chapter of Six of Crows so slight spoiler warning too for people haven't read the books

As a Grisha, once your abilities to summon the small science were discovered, there were consequences for not summoning. You grew sick, your body grew weak, your bones fragile and you felt frail, even the smallest actions leaving you winded.

It was the universes way of punishing you for not using the gift you'd been given, another show of like calls to like. Refraining from summoning calls to sickness, and summoning calls to health.

You'd read Grisha theory, both in your time at the Little Palace before you left in the last few months before the war and in the time since, in the times wherein you needed something to read and happened upon a book containing Grisha theory and figured it would be good to pass the time.

You knew that you wouldn't last if you didn't summon, but you eventually stopped finding reason to. Nobody in the Dregs knew you were a squaller, and what good did wind do, anyway, unless it was summer and grossly humid as Ketterdam always got when the weather warmed up? You saw no point in using your small science, so eventually, you just stopped.

For a while, the differences weren't really noticeable. You didn't notice them, nobody in the Dregs noticed them, none of the crows did. You hadn't relied on your abilities as a Squaller since you'd lived in Ravka, and before you'd decided to stop, you mostly used them in summer or when Kaz needed a distraction in the middle of a negotiation in the rarer times they'd taken place outdoors, something to put the opposition a little on edge.

But then, they became noticeable. You stopped sleeping quite as comfortably as you used to, spending hours trying to get comfortable, trying to will your mind to quiet. You woke up and took to coffee to keep you awake, often running on between two and four hours to boot.

Because of your tiredness, dark circles developed under your eyes. Your appetite lessened and you grew to be tired all the time, even on a rarer night where your body rested for seven or eight hours. You still relied on the coffee even then, and Nina was beginning to take notice of the fact that you hardly ate.

Kaz had long taken notice of the exhaustion you exhibited even after jobs that you'd always considered pretty easy, ones that didn't require as much effort, as much physical strain, as the bigger heists always tended to.

Jesper had long taken notice of how much coffee you drank, the fact that you always seemed to have jurda on you even in the middle of the day, and Inej noticed it when your pace began to slow, afraid to walk at the pace you normally did because you didn't want to risk heart palpitations.

Wylan was beginning to notice when those heart palpitations kicked in, was the one to grab your hand and look at you, brown eyes silently trying to ask if something was wrong only to receive nothing in response.

One by one, each of the crows noticed something, and still, none of them said a word. They could've been wrong, they knew. All of them acknowledged that they could've been dramatizing things, making things out to be worse than they actually were.

The only one who was sure of the things they'd noticed was Kaz. You were someone who mattered to him. Of course he was going to notice if you were out of sorts. Observance was his pedigree.

So, one day, Kaz showed up at your door. "What's wrong?" He'd asked. "What is wrong with you, Y/N?"

You'd laughed, a lame, tired laugh. You'd barely slept three hours, and the long-term exhaustion was starting to finally have an impact. Kaz's tone was humorless, blunt like the edge of a knife gone too long without being run across a sharpening block.

It was normally gravel, normally coffee grounds being poured into a coffee press, but it was not that, not that day. It was the unsharpened edge of a knife, the voice that did not belong to the man you loved but rather to one they called Dirtyhands.

"What's wrong with me?" You asked. "Nothing, Kaz. Nothing is wrong with me."

"Exhaustion," Kaz said. "You drink coffee and chew jurda near constantly. You sleep hours after jobs that aren't even tiring. You are constantly tired because you can't sleep unless you are at the point wherein your body will die without resting. You get two hours most nights, four, six, on luckier ones. Nina has also noticed that you eat less lately. Wylan says you've been having heart palpitations and Matthias has noticed you zoning out. Why?"

"Why do I feel like that's a rhetorical question?"

"It's not. Stop trying to flirt."

"I'm not trying to flirt," you laughed again, a shallow, hollowed out version of the laugh Kaz recognized. "If I were trying to flirt, you'd know. I would know it was working because your cheeks would be tinged pink, which, of course, is something you'd deny."

Kaz laughed humorlessly once more. "What, are you sick?"

You paused. Some part of you had known he'd guess at that. With that realization came the one that he already knew why you were sick. Inej must've known, must've snooped for Kaz when the trust you shared was still developing. He was Kaz Brekker, and he had to know somehow, didn't he?

"You're a Squaller," he said, the words falling from his lips like they were something he'd forgotten, like the fact that you could summon the wind was something he'd merely heard and disregarded after having deemed it unimportant. "You're a Squaller, and you're one who hasn't summoned for at least six months. Why not?"

"I saw no point," you said. "Let me guess, though, you've known since I came in, since I joined up?"

"I've known since the night we confronted Bolliger about double dealing," Kaz said. "Geels, the negotiations. It was the day before--"

"The day before you came to me with the Ice Court proposition," you said with a nod. "I remember. What tipped you off?"

"The breeze," Kaz said. "It was late winter, and breezes like that are commonplace, sure, but after a bout of rain? Wind like that doesn't just happen. Especially not considering the fact that it nearly tipped Geels over, and Geels was nearly seven feet tall. It gave me something to use in the moment, and I just kind of noticed whenever you'd do it while I was falling short from then on. Nobody else knows."

"Well you'll need to grant me some leniency, Brekker. I stopped summoning because I didn't see a point."

"if the point of summoning is to keep you alive and healthy, I have to say, I see no sensible reason that one would stop," Kaz said. "You're deteriorating. I know you think it can't get any worse, but it can, and it will."

"I know," you said. "Relax. Let me find the proper time, when it doesn't feel like it'll be an inconvenience, and I'll give it a go."

Kaz looked at you solemnly for a minute before he nodded.

"Right, then," he said. "Work needs doing." He turned to go, and you watched him leave, not saying a word as he left, only closing your eyes and hoping for even another few moments of rest.

-

The next time you summoned, it was June and you hadn't summoned in a year. You were sitting in Kaz's office, the window open as you discussed heist plans with him, Jesper, Inej, and the rest of the crows.

The heat was growing unbearable, so you willed a strong breeze to flow gently through the room, making the area feel a bit colder, much to everyones delight. Kaz shot you a look because Ketterdam in the summer was not prone to breezes on humid days like that one, and you felt some of the energy that was long gone move back into your system, a spark of joy and pride at your small science lighting up in your chest.

You allowed yourself a small smile as you leaned back in the chair you'd occupied.

You were still sick, still frail and tired and coffee-reliant, but you were getting back to normal. You decided, in the moment, that that was what mattered.

[pink-sparkly-witch]

The Widow - Chapter Four

Chapter Four

Summary: Sam and Y/N are happily married, but everything changes after a fatal car accident leaves her a widow. The Winchester motto: "Family Don't End with Blood," takes on a whole new meaning for Y/N as she navigates her new normal with the help of her brother-in-law, Dean. But what no one can tell her, is what happens when she falls in love again?   

Pairing: Sam Winchester x F!Reader (past) | Dean Winchester x F!Reader (eventual)

Warning: angst, grief, panic attacks, language, fluff if you squint

Words: 2,327

You can catch up here!

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Dean had been right. The few weeks you’d been back at work had done you the world of good. There are still nights you can’t sleep, and you still have good and bad days, but mostly you’re doing okay now. You’re back into somewhat of a routine, and once the staring and whispering stopped at the office, you fell back into the swing of things, quickly making it feel like you’d never been away. And for the first time since you’d been back, work has been so busy that you’re glad it’s the weekend.

Parking up in the driveway, you grab your purse from the passenger seat and get the groceries from the trunk. As you stand outside the door looking for your keys, you can hear the landline start to ring, prompting you to quickly grab your keys and unlock the door. Finally making it in, you haphazardly push the door closed with your foot and stumble towards the phone. Your fingers just manage to close around the device, ready to pull it off its cradle, when the ringing stops and your heart drops.

“Hey, it’s Sam!” The tinny sound of your husband’s voice comes out of the small speaker. “And Y/N!” You can hear the smile in your voice clear as day and it makes you feel nauseous. “We can’t get to the phone right now, so you know what to do!”

Sam’s parting words are the last thing you hear before your heart starts to race, and you feel yourself getting hotter and hotter. There’s a whooshing in your ears and your throat feels like it’s closing over. You struggle to breathe with the heart palpitations and the crushing weight on your chest. You can’t hear at all now that the whooshing has changed to a deafening ringing. Your vision blurs with the tears that are falling, and the more you fight to breathe, the darker your surroundings get.

You hear the phone start to ring again – though this time it sounds higher and more musical in tone – and the thought of hearing your husband’s voice again panics you into taking a deep, gasping breath. The air you release from your lungs comes out in a sob and you force yourself to your hands and knees and crawl over to the corner.

When the wall stops you from moving any further, you curl your knees into your chest, wrap your arms around them and begin to rock, trying to provide yourself with the comfort you’re in desperate need of. Your slowly healing heart begins to shatter again in a symphony of tears, shallow breaths, and a painfully pounding heart.

You don’t know how long you’ve been crouched in the corner of your living room, but it’s completely dark now which tells you it’s way past sunset. You’re startled out of the daze you’ve been trapped in by a car door slamming outside. You take an experimental deep breath, and though your chest still feels tight and it still hurts a little, you manage okay. Trying to get up is another matter entirely. Your body is just too tired, and everything aches. All of your energy has been depleted by the panic attack that had hit with none of the usual warning signs – you don’t even have the energy to lift your head when you hear the front door open.

“Y/N?” 

Dean’s voice makes your heart jump, but your emotions are all over the place and you can’t tell if it’s relief that he’s here and will comfort you, or fear that he’s going to read you the riot act for not calling him.

“Sweetheart, you here?” The light flickers on and you don’t even flinch at the sudden brightness. “Shit!” He mumbles as he takes in the mess of the floor; groceries scattered all over the place, their brown paper bag burst open, your purse lying abandoned next to your keys and the cordless handset of the phone.

Dean spins around searching for you, the look of panic clear on his face. You can see he’s ready to move into another room when he stops short, eyes trained on you curled into a ball in the corner of the room. 

“Y/N, thank god! You scared me! I’ve been calling and texting you all night. What happened?” His brow is furrowed in concern, and you curse yourself that he looks like he’s aged five years since you saw him yesterday and you know that–once again–it’s because of you. Everything you’ve done for the past three months seems to be ageing either John or Dean. Or both.

“Hey,” he says, cupping your cheeks in his hands. “Talk to me, sweetheart.” 

You try to open your mouth to say something–anything–but all that comes out is another sob. Dean is quick to wrap you in his arms and pull you into his chest, letting you cry it out on his shoulder.

When you finally stop crying, you feel your bone-tired body sag against his, grateful that he’s holding you so tightly or you’re sure you’d have collapsed in a heap at his feet. 

“Come on, let’s get you to bed, sweetheart. Maybe you’ll feel better after some sleep and we can talk about this in the morning, huh?” Dean whispers into your ear.

He slides one arm under your legs and the other around your waist and lifts you into his arms. He walks towards the door, stopping short as you squirm in his embrace and reach your hand out. Grabbing hold of the phone cable, you pull it as hard as you can, yanking its connection out of the wall socket.

Dean doesn’t say anything other than a quiet, “you good?” before continuing to carry you up to your bedroom when you nod and rest your head on his shoulder. He makes you feel calm and safe, and you can already feel your body lose some of its tension and your eyes become heavy with sleep.

“Alright, sweetheart, I’m gonna get you a little more comfortable, alright?” Dean holds your gaze to make sure you hear and understand him. “So, I’m gonna take off your boots and your pants, okay? Then we’ll get you under those covers, what d’ya say, huh?” You don’t remember doing it, but you must nod because Dean gives you a wink and mutters, “that’s my girl,” as he pulls one of your boots off.

Dean settles you in bed and strokes your cheek with the pad of his thumb, smiling softly at you. 

“Try and get some sleep, yeah?” he whispers and starts to stand up from the bed. Your hand grips his wrist and squeezes gently, stopping his movement and making him look back at you.

“Please stay.”

Dean’s POV

“Please stay,” Dean hears her begging him, and damn, if he isn’t a sucker for a damsel in distress at the best of times, never mind that damsel being Y/N. He’d give a kidney to that girl. Hell, he’d give her his last breath.

“I’m not going anywhere, sweetheart,” Dean smiles at her as he stands from the bed and moves to the opposite side. 

Taking his shoes off, he slides under the duvet and opens his arms, inviting his sister-in-law into him in an effort to provide her with the comfort she no doubt needs after the emotional turmoil of the evening.

Y/N shuffles over and rests her head on his shoulder, releases a heavy sigh and thankfully, falls asleep almost immediately. Dean was worried she’d lay awake for hours thinking about whatever it was that had set her off earlier. She’d been doing so well recently, but he’d had this feeling of dread deep in his gut all day and when she didn’t answer any of his calls or texts, he knew something was really wrong. He just hadn’t expected to walk into her house and see her curled into a corner.

Wrapping his arms around her, Dean lets out a sigh of his own before he places a kiss on the crown of her head and strokes her hair. Something made her have a panic attack and he’s certain he knows what it was. He just wants to make sure she’s sound asleep before he finds out if he’s right.

Once her breathing evens out and Dean’s sure Y/N’s in a deep sleep, he carefully picks up his cell phone and calls her and Sam’s landline number. It’s the only thing he can think of that set her off–the phone lying on the floor, her yanking the phone line from the wall–there’s nothing else that could have done it except…

“Hey, it’s Sam!” Dean’s heart drops to his stomach.

“And Y/N!” And then it breaks.

He ends the call and puts his phone on the bedside table and his eyes catch the wedding photo of Sam and Y/N bathed in the moonlight. He’s never seen two people as happy as they were that day and it kills him that his baby brother was taken from this world far too soon and that he left a beautiful, young woman who was perfect for him, behind.

Dean’s never been one for emotions, always burying them and trying to hide them, but lying next to his brother’s grieving widow, he lets his emotions find him and the tears fall silently. And finally, when he has none left, he settles himself down for what’s sure to be a long, sleepless night.

He wakes with a start. It’s still dark outside, but he can see from the open curtains that dawn isn’t far away. He hears a dull thud coming from downstairs and quickly looks to the other side of the bed to check if Y/N is still asleep next to him. Seeing her side of the bed empty he sighs in relief before frowning and turning to check the time.

5:58am

Dean pulls the covers from his body and gets out of bed. Following the soft thuds, he finds Y/N sitting cross-legged on the floor in front of the sideboard in the kitchen, pulling out papers and various bits and pieces. 

“Y/N? What are you doing?”

“Cleaning,” she states like it’s the most natural thing in the world to be doing before the sun is up.

“It’s 6am, sweetheart,” he replies, even more confused about what’s going on.

“There’s coffee in the pot. Help yourself,” again said like it’s normal to be shredding paperwork at 6am.

“How long have you been doing… whatever it is you’re doing?”

“I don’t know,” she shrugs. “Like 3:30, 4am?” She looks at him for the first time and giggles. “Your hair is adorable when you wake up! You look like a hedgehog!” 

He can’t help but laugh at her obvious joy having seen so little of it lately. Still chuckling, Dean walks over to the cabinet to get a mug of coffee.

“So,” he says as he sits on the floor across from her, “what exactly are we doing here?” Dean takes some time to look over the piles of stuff she’s making and sees that everything had belonged to Sam and she continues sorting things into piles before glancing up at him. 

“It’s time. I need to let him go,” her eyes begin to water. “And to do that, I need to start getting rid of things.” Dean nods at her solemnly.

“Are you sure about this?” he questions softly. “Sure you’re ready?”

“I’m never going to be ready, Dean. But what happened last night… I can’t go through that again. I haven’t been that bad since the funeral, and I’m tired of being scared of what I’ll find when I open a cupboard, or what happens when I don’t get to the phone on time,” she explains as she bravely fights more tears. Dean nods again and takes her hands in his.

“Okay. Then let me help. And when it’s a less ungodly hour,” he playfully scowls at her. “I’ll call dad and Jody. You shouldn’t do this alone and without the support of family around you. Alright?” He checks, and when she nods, he smiles at her.

“Alright,” he rubs his hands together and picks up a pile of papers. “Wanna tell me what I’m supposed to do with these?”

Y/N’s POV

Sighing, you look around the room and smile softly at Dean and Jody laughing and joking over a beer in the kitchen. Your house is almost empty of all of your husband’s belongings now, and yet, somehow, it looks exactly the same. You’d let John and Dean take what they wanted and there were two boxes to go up to the attic. You’ve kept a closer hold on his wedding ring and your wedding album, his Stanford mug, t-shirt and hoodie, and some of his other most prized possessions, by putting them in a box in your closet. Everything else is either going to goodwill or in the trash.

“You doing okay, honey?” Jody asks, placing her arm around your waist.

“Yeah, m’okay.” You’re not really, but you don’t have it in you to talk about how you feel right now.

“Liar!” Jody chuckles but thankfully leaves it at that. “How about we go for dinner at the Roadhouse? We’ve earned a decent meal and should have a drink to reflect and remember. It’s not necessarily a celebration, but I think we need to mark this occasion somehow, Y/N.”

“Yeah, that sounds good. I could do with a decent home-cooked meal and the biggest glass of wine they have!” You smile sadly.

“Darlin’,” John says as he comes back in from a trip to the recycling centre. “You deserve a damn bottle! C’mere,” he opens his arms and invites you into his embrace.

“I did the right thing, right?” You mumble into his chest.

“It was time, Y/N,” John reassures you. “Ain’t no doubt about that.”

Next Chapter>>

@deans-spinster-witch @muchamusedaboutnothing @kazsrm67 @twinkleinadiamondsky @waters-2567 @leigh70 @waynes-multiverse @jesllianaquilesrolonsworld @chriszgirl92 @stoneyggirl2 @marilynnlew @ilovedean-spn2 @deans-baby-momma @acitygrownwillow @xxsovereignsarayaxx

[bijouxcarys]

𝐓𝐨 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐒𝐨 𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐲 (𝐑𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐭 𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐅𝐚𝐧𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧)

Masterlist

Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four

Description: Sometimes the pain of what should have never been, opens your eyes to what can be.

Tag list: @celestial-dragoness @whothefuckisanja @chromations @firethatgrewsolow @tangerine1969 @callmethehunter @m-faithfull @strsmn @angrychicksposts @ourshadowstallerthanoursoul If you'd like to be added to the list, just let me know!

Elena’s heart pounded with an urgency that defied control.

Not a single utterance pierced the air during the entire journey with John, the car navigating a path all too familiar—an unwelcome route leading to a place laden with memories she fervently sought to avoid.

The nauseating grip tightened, every palpitation threatening to dislodge the contents of her stomach. Tranquility seemed a distant prospect, and the turmoil within her hinted at a precarious tipping point.

Endless scenarios paraded through her mind, a relentless procession of possibilities. She longed for simplicity—an in-and-out, a resolution neatly packaged and concluded. That’s all it needed to be. Yet, a deep-seated intuition whispered that simplicity would elude her. It would stretch, twist, and linger far beyond necessity. 

In no way, shape, or form, would David entertain brevity. Not today.

Beyond the apprehension surrounding David’s reaction to this clandestine mission, to merely collect clothing and cherished mementos, there lingered a reluctance, a hesitant acknowledgement of John’s presence. Despite the depth of trust she held for him, a trust entirely unparalleled, it failed to nullify his actions when under the influence of either one of two things—alcohol, or emotion.

Elena had yet to divulge the whole truth about her tumultuous relationship with David, and wouldn’t until she never had to see the man again. John, though privy to odd reactions to loud noises and sudden movements, remained unaware of the intricate web of torment. If John learned the full extent of David’s malevolence, he wouldn’t be accompanying Elena to retrieve her belongings; he’d be behind bars.

In their childhood, it demanded every ounce of Elena’s energy to sway John from the precipice of violence. Those boys, stationed defiantly across the courtyard, seemed hell-bent on making it their life’s mission to underscore the fact that Elena wasn’t as thin as the other 14-year-old girls at school. A relentless daily reminder that required her utmost effort to dissuade John from unleashing a physical retribution that, in her eyes, wasn’t worth it. Every. Single. Day.

In a lot of ways, she would have preferred to relive the secondary school taunting than experience another 30 minutes of David. What John would do in light of knowing the whole story was a scary thought, and one Elena wasn’t prepared to even prosper.

“El?”

John’s voice brought her out of her head for a moment, and she realised they were pulling up outside the block of flats she hadn’t returned to in a fortnight. Swallowing thickly, she willed herself to look at him.

“Are you alright?” his brows narrowed, eyes gleaming into her soul. She gave him a pathetic nod. “Y’know I can always go in myself, if ya just tell me what to pick u–”

“No,” she shook her head. “I… need to do this.”

“‘Kay…” he reluctantly accepted, but quickly added, “I am comin’ in with you though.”

“John, you don’t have t–”

“I’m not arguin’ about this, Elena, I’m coming in.”

Before she could make any further comment, John was already opening the door and stepping out into the road. A whimper left her mouth, her hand a foreign entity as she, too, pushed the car door open. It wasn’t even that hot out, but the sun felt like lasers burning right through every inch it touched. Sturdy trainers felt flimsy, the gravel beneath her feet as blatant as it could get.

She felt she was walking The Mile to her death.

“Hey…” John stopped her as they reached her floor, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder to turn her towards him. Their eyes met, and his stomach dropped at the fear looking back at him. My God, she’s terrified… “It’s gunna be alright, El. I promise.”

“You shouldn’t make promises you can’t keep…” she mumbled, her foot moving to take another step.

“I mean it.”

Looking back at him, she mustered up a grateful smile, and nodded slowly. “I know,” she whispered.

The air was thick as they reached the door marked ‘13,’ a feature she had once found excitement in—living in a flat with the same number as your birthday. Now, it just reeked of a hapless existence; a far cry from what used to be her sanctuary.

Do I knock? No, Elena, this is your home—oh, shit, it’s locked. Where’s that fucking spare key? She flipped over the doormat with her foot, expecting to see the familiar metal looking back up at her. Nothing. Fucking prick…

With bated breath, Elena lifted her hand and gave three experimental knocks to the door, each one ringing deeper and deeper through her ears. Please, don’t be home… What am I talking about? I need to do this now, I keep wearing the same two outfits, you idiot…

She daren’t look up as the door swung open. Instead, she fell eye-level with that stupid striped, skin-tight shirt that became a daily choice of clothing. In and out. Please. God, if you’re up there, just let this be simple. Please…

John stood by, arms folded, as the door opened, revealing the man he hadn’t seen since December. A tall fucker. Can’t have been any shorter than six-foot-four. And there Elena stood, a measly five-foot-seven in comparison. Shaggy dirty-blonde hair that bordered on a light brown, straight and perched just below his jaw. Parted at the side. Twat.

“Elena,” David sighed, instantly taking note of John’s presence behind her. “Where the fuck have you been? I’ve been worried si–”

“I don’t want to talk,” she told him, as sternly as she could. “Just came to get my things…” Without looking him in the eye, she squeezed past him. He looked over at John, his green eyes calm, before they narrowed as he turned to follow Elena.

“What the fuck are you talking about, ‘just came to get my things’?”

Elena sighed and spun to look at David, accidentally catching his eyes. The eyes that commanded her every move. Eyes she felt too worthless to meet. That’s because you are.

The click of the door shutting reverberated through the room, drawing their attention like a sudden snap of a whip. John, his gaze fixed with unwavering determination, stood his ground, sending a slow nod of reassurance to Elena.

“Did I invite you in?” David’s voice sliced through the tense silence, his words laced with thinly veiled hostility as he locked eyes with John.

“Nah, mate, you didn’t,” John replied with a nonchalant shrug, his gaze flickering past David to Elena. “I’ll be here, go get your things, El.”

David’s movements were swift, a blockade forming as he positioned himself to bar Elena’s access to the hallway. “Hold on a sec, darling,” he muttered, his voice a deceptive whisper as he edged closer to her, a somewhat predatory gaze fixed on her.

Elena shook her head, her eyes dropping to the ground as she struggled to maintain her composure. “Let me through, David. I’m getting my things, and I’m leaving,” she pleaded, her voice strained with emotion. In the charged atmosphere, she could sense David’s growing agitation, a palpable tension thickening the air around them.

John, alert to every subtle shift in the room, edged closer, ready to intervene if necessary. He noted the tightening of David’s fists with a sense of grim satisfaction, silently grateful for his own presence in that moment.

“Oi,” John interjected sharply, his voice cutting through the unease like a knife. “She said let her through, mate. You’re not makin’ this any easier by being a dick.”

Elena’s heart pounded in her chest as she braced herself for David’s reaction, her shoulders instinctively hunching in a familiar stance of self-protection. A heavy breath escaped her lips as David begrudgingly relented, allowing her to slip past him and into the bedroom.

In the sparse living room, devoid of any personal touches, John and David locked eyes in a silent standoff, each sizing the other up with cloaked animosity. David’s gaze raked over John’s form, his mouth twisting into a snarl of disdain.

“I don’t know what she’s been telling you,” David began, his voice dripping with forced calmness. “I don’t know where all this has come from, either.” He ran a hand through his hair, attempting to regain control of the situation.

“She’s not told me anything,” John replied evenly, perching himself on the pine table behind the swamp-green sofa that was most definitely not of Elena’s choosing.

“Bollocks!”

“Now, now, no need for the language,” John retorted, a hint of sarcasm colouring his tone.

David’s frustration simmered beneath the surface as he struggled to maintain his composure. “Look, we both know how she can get rowdy, and mouthy–”

“Naturally. I have known her since we were kids,” John interjected, his patience wearing thin as he pushed back against David’s attempts to deflect blame.

“You clearly don’t know her very well, then,” David shot back, his eyes narrowing in defiance as he locked eyes with John. “Now… I don’t want trouble with you, chief. But I think it might be best if you just leave our relationship alone.”

“What relationship?” John scoffed, his anger bubbling to the surface. “All I see is a controlling arsehole that, for whatever reason, has made it almost impossible for a girl to come and go as she pleases… Is that enough for your theory on why she’s getting as far away from you as possible?”

John watched as David’s face contorted with a mixture of disbelief and indignation, his resolve wavering under the weight of the drummer’s accusations. Taking a step closer, John met David’s gaze head-on, refusing to back down.

“She’s not going anywhere, Bonham,” David growled, his voice dripping with venom.

With a resigned sigh, John shook his head. “I think she is, actually, Henning…”

Elena emerged from the bedroom, a large bag slung over her shoulder and a cardboard box tucked under her arm. She glanced briefly at David, her expression a dangerous mix of determination and apprehension.

“What the hell are you doing, Elena?” David demanded, his tone laced with desperation. “You can’t just walk out like this. I’m all you have. Remember everything I ever told you? You’ll have nobody.”

Elena’s jaw clenched as she fought to keep her emotions in check. “I’ll figure it out, David,” she replied, her voice firm despite the tremor of fear running through her. “I can’t stay here… with you, anymore.”

David’s eyes narrowed once again, the mask slowly slipping from his facade. “You’re making a mistake, Elena,” he insisted, taking a step closer to her. “You need me. You need us.”

Elena recoiled instinctively as David reached out to grab her wrist, her heart pounding at an instant. “Don’t touch me, David,” she snapped with a panicked tone.

But David refused to release his grip, his fingers tightening around her wrist. Digging into her skin. “You’re not going anywhere,” he growled, low and menacing.

With a surge of adrenaline, Elena wrenched her wrist free from David’s grasp, her movements quick and decisive—just like the night she fled. “Get off!” she spat, her eyes flashing with anger.

John stepped forward, a protective stance as he positioned himself between Elena and David. “Touch her again, and your jaw will be on the back of your fuckin’ head, you piece of shit.”

David’s face contorted with rage, but he held himself back, his fists clenched at his sides. “Fine,” he seethed. “Go then. But don’t come crawling back to me when you realise you’ve made the biggest mistake of your life.”

“No, the biggest mistake of my life was saying ‘yes’ to a drink 3 fucking years ago,” Elena squared her shoulders, her resolve unwavering despite the trepidation coursing through her veins. With one final glare at David, she turned on her heel and headed for the door, John following close behind.

As they made their way down to John’s car, Elena’s steps faltered slightly, her composure fluctuating with every passing movement. John cast a concerned glance her way, noting the tension in her shoulders and the haunted look in her eyes.

“You alright, El?” John asked softly, his voice tinged with worry as he took her things and secured them in the backseat.

Elena forced a tight-lipped smile, her facade inevitably crumbling as they settled into the car. The tears she had been holding back finally spilled over, streaming down her cheeks in silent torrents.

John reached out to comfort her, his hand hovering with uncertainty over her shoulder. “El, it’s okay, you did it,” he murmured.

But Elena recoiled from his touch, her eyes flashing through an uncharacteristic anguish. “J-Just… drive, p-please… I need to get… get away,” she panted, burying her head in her hands.

“Okay, yeah, okay…” he rambled, immediately pulling away from the block of flats. 

On their journey back to the Bonhams’ house, John couldn’t shake the nagging feeling at the back of his head that Elena still hadn’t been entirely truthful regarding David. Seeing him grab her the way he did, her instantaneous reaction. There had to be something more. The Elena he knew would have spun around and clobbered the cunt in the face. Except, he reminded himself, this wasn’t his Elena. This was a shell of the girl he grew up with. And he vowed to himself that he would do whatever it took to coax her back.

Elena felt sick to her stomach. Why do I feel guilty? There was nothing in the world she wanted more than for the ground to open up and swallow her whole. She couldn’t understand why she was finding this moment so difficult, so distant from what she expected to feel. Shouldn’t she be joyous, over the moon? To finally be free of that monster that controlled her entire life?

David’s attempt to physically restrain her back at the flat was the furthest thing triggering her uneven emotions in the car. No, she’d learned to deal with that by now. Above all else, above everything she should have been upset over… she was angry. At herself.

Thankfully, the drive back to John’s was long enough for her to get a majority of her emotions out. Crying as hard as she needed. As loud as she needed. John was the only one she would let see her in this state. It had to come out now.

When the erratic breathing and sobbing had worn her out, leaving a red and puffy face in its wake, she was able to regain her bearings somewhat. As much as she enjoyed hearing John ramble on for what seemed like hours, she was glad he chose to stay quiet this time. He knew her well enough to know when’s the time to shut the fuck up—when to give her her space.

Upon passing the familiar petrol station, she knew they were almost back. All she wanted to do was pass out. Sleep forever—at least long enough to erase any memory of the past couple of years.

“‘M sorry…” she murmured, staring out the window, her eyes still glassy.

John glanced at her, checking in, before scoffing lightly and shaking his head. “You’re the last person who needs to be apologising right now.”

“No, I mean…” she turned her head in his direction, but kept her eyes on the steering wheel. “I’m sorry for snapping at you… earlier. And that you got caught up in–” her breath caught in her throat, “In all that.” 

He chuckled airily under his breath, a somewhat amused smile on his lips. “And like I just said… You’re not the one who needs to apologise.” Stopping at a red light, he had the chance to look at her head-on. “Seriously. It’s okay. Everything’s gunna be okay, El.”

Upon looking up at his eyes, those warm, trusting eyes she’d found solace in for so many years, came the first wave of relief. A sudden realisation. Instead of David’s nagging voice in the back of her head, reminding her of her shortcomings, she heard a different one. A distant whisper from a fragile conversation she’d only ever had with one person.

You’ve done the hardest part… 

No idiot would do something so brave…

With a shaky sigh, she nodded, smiling almost painfully at John.  “Yeah…” she whispered her agreement. “Everything’s gonna be okay…” she repeated, almost as a self-assuring mantra as she looked ahead. “The light’s green,” she nodded her head towards the traffic lights in front of them.

“Shit,” John pressed down on the gas pedal, a comically panicked look on his face that made Elena stifle a small laugh. A laugh. A real laugh…

It’s gonna be okay. I’m gonna be okay. 

The air was lighter by the time they pulled up to John’s driveway, and it seemed the sun wasn’t as menacing as it was before. Catching a glimpse of Pat in one of the windows put yet another smile on her face, as if another reminder that there is life outside of David. He’d damaged her mind. Tainted all of her thoughts. It wouldn’t go away overnight, but being with the Bonhams was a refreshing prompt along the road to understanding she was free.

And she never had to see David Henning ever again.

“‘Ere, let me get that,” John offered, pulling Elena’s bag from the back of the car and slugging it over his shoulder. “Fuck, what do you have in here, the kitchen sink?”

Snorting, Elena lifted the box into her arms, nudging the car door shut with her knee. “It’s the jeans and those jackets, Bon…”

“Oh, those fuckin’ jackets are massive!” he gasped, as if he had forgotten.

“Yeah, but they look good on,” she smirked, watching her steps as they made their way to the front door. John’s face dropped a little when he tried the handle, finding it locked.

“The fuck’s goin’ on ‘ere…” Turning around abruptly, he almost collided with Elena. “Back door.”

“Jesus, do you mind not body slamming me in the process?” she mumbled, spinning round in the direction of the gate that led to the Bonhams’ back garden.

As they closed in, the familiar laughter of Jason could be heard, along with some clumsy clapping.

“Do it again!” The sound of someone’s shoes coming into contact with a football followed. Jason cheered again, his adorable cadence putting a smile on Elena’s face.

The smile, however, seemed to widen when she heard familiar laughter—and it definitely wasn’t Pat.

Rounding the corner of the house, the heartwarming scene of Jason kicking his football towards a carefree Robert unfolded.

“Again!”

“Can only do a single trick so many times, Jason,” Robert chuckled, but humoured the three-year-old, performing a brief dribble with a concentrated face. Far from a trick, but enough to mesmerise Jason in his innocent joy.

“Well if it isn’t Bobby Thomson,” John called out, catching the pair off guard.

Robert’s eyes went instantly to Elena’s, and he flashed that charming smile her way, before swiftly giving John attention. “Nah, mate, Thomson’s a left backer. I’m more of a Derek Dougan,” he said, attempting an Irish accent in the process.

“Who tha fuck’s Derek Dougan?”

Jason gasped, his presence momentarily subdued. “Mummy!” He ran inside, all whilst shouting, “Daddy just said a bad word!” Elena stifled a laugh, watching over her shoulder as his small form disappeared.

The blonde froze, giving his band mate a dumbfounded expression. “I don’t trust you anymore, Bonzo.”

Elena, with an amused smirk, glanced up at John. “Dougan’s a midfielder,” she let him know. John just simply let out an exasperated groan, shrugging his shoulders. “He’s also Irish…” She looked at Robert. “Hence the terrible accent,” she teased lightly. Her eyes still felt heavy from the car journey, but jesting with Robert came as naturally as breathing.

“I didn’t know you were into football, Elena,” Robert tilted his head to the side, hand on his hip. The small gesture and placement caught Elena’s attention, just like he had done at rehearsal. Everything about the man screamed appeal, in every sense of the word.

“I’m not,” she simply responded with a shrug of her shoulders. There was a pause between the three of them and it didn’t take very long for the two men to understand why Elena happened to know so much about football. She may have not been the one in her home—ex home—watching football, but she sure got a lot of it from David.

“Uh, I’m gonna take this inside before it cuts off the circulation to my brain,” John quipped, patting Elena’s bag. “Ya want a cuppa, Rob?”

Great, Elena, you’ve made it awkward now… Fucking idiot. You can’t say anything without fucking it u–

“El?”

“Hm?” she snapped her head to John. “Sorry, what were you saying?”

“I asked if you wanted a cuppa,” he repeated gently, a sympathetic gaze matching his tone. She gave him a passive nod, turning to follow him and Robert inside. Her fingers were starting to lock up from gripping onto the bottom of the cardboard box, so she instantly dropped it down on the kitchen table once they’d entered.

“What’s with the box?” Robert nodded towards it, casually nosing about in the kitchen with, yet again, his hands settled on his hips. The poor lad didn’t even realise how beautiful he looked as he inspected all the photos and magnets on the Bonhams’ fridge. Eyebrows all narrowed as he focused his eyes, a subconscious curling of his mouth that naturally stretched over his strong jaw.

Elena, pack it in. It’s Robert. Stop.

“Um,” she cleared her throat, resting a hand on top of the box. “It’s just got all these photos and random things in it that are important to me. Memories, I guess…” she trailed off.

“Oh, fantastic!” Robert chimed, hair bouncing about as he turned to look at her. “Got any embarrassing photos of Bonzo in there?”

She chuckled, glancing at said man, who was busy preparing tea. “None that don’t also embarrass me.” She carefully lifted the lid halfway off the box and strategically fished out a small stack of processed photographs that were a little worn by now, tied together by an elastic band. Robert’s footsteps came closer, until his presence was right next to her, the warmth radiating from his body.

“What happened to the corners?”

Elena pulled her lips into a tight line, eyeing the damaged corners of the lid of the box, darker than the rest of it, and requiring the utmost of care. “Nothing, just an accident…” she shrugged it off.

He peered over her shoulder, feeling a small jump in his heart at being this close to her again. He had to suppress the idiotic grin that tugged at the corners of his mouth. Her hair… Nothing appealed to him more in that moment than to run his fingers through it.

“Oh, this was when we went camping,” Elena smiled, holding up a photo labelled ‘Bon-Bon + El, Lake District, July 1964.’ “Bon had just finished school, so we decided to go up North for a couple of days.”

Robert tilted his head down to get a better look, snorting at the boyish expression on John’s face, equipped with the adolescent beginning stages of growing out a moustache. But the 15-year-old Elena made his smile soften. She looked happy there. Wrapped up in an earthy orange cardigan, stray blades of grass stuck to her legs from pitching a tent.

“Not that fuckin’ photo,” John whined, glancing over at them. “I look like a right knobhead!”

“Well, you always look like a knobhead, Bonzo,” Robert fired back with a smirk, looking back down at the photo. “It’s a lovely photo.”

“Eh…” she squirmed a little with a shrug. “It’s cute. John looks good in it, at least.” She carefully slipped it back in with the rest of the photos.

“You do, as well,” Robert gave her a gentle nudge with his elbow.

“Pfft, I look fat in it.”

John’s hand stopped mid-milk pour, eyes diverting to the side as he overheard Elena’s comment. Since when does she think she looks fat? Scrunching up his eyebrows, he finished making their teas. Even the comments from schoolboys didn’t influence her own perception of herself. Weird. But then, it hit him. Fuckin’ David…

“No, you look nice,” Robert refuted, shaking his head. A glance at her showed she didn’t believe him. “Seriously, yer cute.”

At the counter, John’s eyebrows raised, and a shocked smile appeared on his face. Well, shit, just jump right in, Percy…

Elena raised an eyebrow, looking up at Robert, who was still looking over her shoulder. Panic briefly flashed through his eyes and he chuckled airily, shifting back.

“It’s a cute photo, that is…” With a somewhat subdued smile, he went over to John to take his tea. Elena was left to mull over the minute interaction. Seriously, yer cute… No, it didn’t mean anything… Can’t have.

“‘Ere y’are,” John appeared next to her, offering her cup of tea. She gave him a smile in gratitude, immediately sipping at it, the fresh heat of it snapping her out of the overtime her brain had unwillingly subscribed to. “Anyway, why’re you here, Rob?”

“What, I can’t just come and see how you’re doing?” Robert squinted his eyes, shielding half of his expression with the mug of tea in his hand. 

John stared at him, trying to gauge his intentions, totally unconvinced by his response. “You’ve just seen me every day for months, mate…” He watched as Robert came up with an unnecessarily detailed reason for his visit, claiming he wanted to see how Pat and Jason were doing, and how the house was… the fucking house. But when all was said and done, John wasn’t passive enough to miss the plain and obvious reason for Robert’s presence.

Elena.

But he’d let it slide. No need to embarrass lil Robert Anthony… 

Besides, how could John ruin this moment? It wasn’t a foreign sight; Elena’s eyes often lit up in the presence of Robert, whether she realised it or not. He was a mere observer to a natural conversation about Robert’s hair. She commented on how it had grown out since she last saw him. How much it suited him. Shamelessly, yet subconsciously, lavishing him with small compliments as if they’d never parted. 

Unlike his response to the hoards of girls who usually gave him such praise on the road, Robert seemed to reduce down to that teenage boy who saw Elena for the first time, as bright and radiant as any sunbeam dancing across the lilypad of an oasis. He’d take what he could get. 

“Oh, there is a reason I’m here, actually,” Robert remembered, pointing his mug at John. “Uh, Jim and I are gunna head down to Snowdonia for a couple of weeks to work on some new material. Just thought, with us three being back together ‘n’ all, we could go out for a few drinks before I go?” He let the question hang in the air for a second, looking between the two of them in a patient standby.

John and Elena exchanged glances, as though telepathically asking each other’s opinion. Eventually, like clockwork, they both shrugged and nodded.

“Don’t see why not,” Elena softly accepted Robert’s offer, smiling up at him with a cadence akin to restrained excitement. “I mean… I don’t think I’ve actually been out for a nice drink in a… long time,” she huffed with a chuckle, attempting to conceal her melancholy recollection of the last time she’d had a good time with anyone at all. 

Robert’s gaze softened as he picked up on her implication, sending her a sideways smile that ignited a warm buzz in her stomach.

“Well, this is your new beginning, El,” John started with his usual grin of reassurance. “What better way to kick it off with a drink with two of the finest men you’ve ever known?” He paused, glancing at Robert. “Well, one and a half.”

Robert sent him a jesting glare, but his mind, as prone to addiction as it was, stayed adhered to Elena, and the excitement it brung to accept his offer for a drink. 

Even if it was dressed up as an innocent gathering of friends.

[qqueenofhades]

I'm about halfway through my History BA and I have a question (I pinky promise I'm doing more research than just asking tumblr academics their opinions), but this is also me assuming you did college in both the US and the UK so forgive me if I guessed wrong and am confusing you with someone else. How does graduate school in either country compare? I'm still stuck between whether I want to go for my master's or straight to PhD so obviously I'm quite a ways away from making any important decision, but considering that I'm studying British history (primarily), it felt natural to consider getting my degree(s) abroad. Are there like, any major differences you're aware of that made university vastly different, or are they more similar than I'm thinking?? Was one situation flat out preferable to the other?? If you even have strong opinions about it at all

That is me, yes. BA in the US with one year in the UK; MA in the US; PhD in the UK; now the co-director of a US MA/PhD program, so I have an appreciable amount of experience with graduate and postgraduate education in both countries. Here are the main ways in which they compare/what the experience is like in both:

In the UK overall, the experience is much more self-directed. I only had taught coursework for the first year of the PhD; the rest of it was spent in research and writing. So compared to the American system, where you take 3 years of coursework first (such as the PhD program that I currently manage) and then write the dissertation in the last year or two (hence the designation ABD, or All But Dissertation), you're thrown into the deep end from the start. I didn't have comprehensive exams, which might be a plus if that's something you have anxiety about, but the tradeoff was that I had to complete the dissertation proposal and first full-length sample chapter in the very first year, rather than waiting for year 3, and to have that be the basis on which I was evaluated/approved to continue to the full PhD degree. If you know what you want to work on and have solid supervision, this can work out and it certainly allows you to develop your topic in depth from the start, but if this is the kind of thing that gives you heart palpitations, there is that. The bright side is that you will come out with a thesis that will need less revision to be suitable as a monograph, because you've done a higher and longer amount of work upfront. I.e. I published my PhD thesis as a monograph with a major academic press within a year of graduating, which is generally rare in the US system.

As such, the US PhD experience is overall more directed/structured and leans toward more coursework than research. The research is obviously a big part of it in a way that American undergrads rarely train in (unless they go to a fancy liberal arts writing-intensive school for undergraduate, like I did), but as noted, the dissertation is central in the UK PhD system in a way it isn't (or at least not as much) in the American system. You have pros and cons for both systems, and sometimes I wished that my intensively research-centric PhD, where it was all on me to do the research, write the research, and have something to present to my supervisors on schedule for each meeting, had more taught coursework or formal/structured contact time. You have a committee in the American system, i.e. three or four academics who will oversee your defense, whereas in the UK, at least in a history program, you only have two aside from your degree supervisor: an internal reader (within the institution) and external reader (from outside the institution). While this means fewer people whose approval you need to wrangle, my viva (final defense) ended up being a Goddamn Ordeal because my external reader, despite being a friend of my supervisor, was really not suited to read a dissertation on the subject and I don't think should have been picked for it, then was extremely unprofessional about her notes/reviews/suggestions. (My supervisor likewise apologized to me for that, so yeah, It Was Bad. Academic Trauma Ahoy.)

Master's programs in the UK are also incredibly intense; they are generally one year compared to the usual two years for most US programs, and you have to complete the coursework AND write a thesis in that time, which is not something that I really recommend for maximum sanity. (Then again, if you're getting an advanced degree in history, that might be out the window.) However, if you are working on British history, then yeah, it makes the most sense to be based in a UK university, since the archives that you will need to consult will be, obviously, far easier to access than if you need to try to cram it all into one overseas academic research trip on a postgraduate student's budget. In that case, it might make sense to just apply to a master's/PhD program in the UK upfront, to smooth the transition/amount of moving around/financial misery you will have to endure. However, word to the wise that there WILL be financial misery, especially as an international student at a UK university. The Tories have yet again jacked the visa and NHS application fees (which you will have to pay upfront for every year you intend to be there) through the roof; your tuition will be much higher (though as noted in previous asks, don't go anywhere unless they pay YOU to do it) and it is difficult to get any part-time work outside of teaching or other opportunities directly related to your degree, which are subject to the uh, totally great pay rate for junior academics. (Sarcasm. That was sarcasm.)

Basically, yeah: it depends on what kind of student you are, how much initiative you like to take, how much structure you need or don't need, what sources you anticipate needing to consult and how you're going to do that, if you're comfortable starting the dissertation right away and being ready to present a finished chapter at the end of year 1, and whether you want your graduate/postgraduate experience to focus primarily on independent research or taught courses. There are no exactly right answers to these questions and you will obviously have to think about what suits you best (along, of course, the money aspect). Good luck!

[braveclementine]

Chapter 17

Warnings: None. However, future chapters will contain sexual content so readers that are under the age of 18 may have to skip those chapters (However they are very few so those under the age of 18 can still read a majority of this book. However please keep note of the warnings).

Copyright: I do not own any Wizarding World characters that J.K. Rowling wrote. I do however own Elizabeth Kane (main character) and Trang Nyguen (best friend). There should be no use of these two names without my permission. I also do not condone any copying of this.

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𝕴 𝖜𝖆𝖘 𝖘𝖙𝖎𝖑𝖑 a cat in the morning. A hand kept running over my head in soothing motions and I twitched an ear. "Morning." Severus whispered in my ear. I rolled over onto my back and stretched, my paws reaching up towards the ceiling and then I flopped onto my side, all four paws on the right side of my body and mewed, closing my eyes again.

He chuckled. "Tired?"

"Meow."

"Figures." He said, sounding amused. "You were up late last night."

I meowed again, standing up on his chest, and stretching. Then I walked across his chest and licked his cheek with my tiny tongue. Then I hopped off the bed and became human again.

"Oh good." He said, standing up too. He pushed me against the wall and kissed me roughly. I closed my eyes, welcoming everything.

He moved his lips to the side of my neck. "Careful." I whispered. "You already left one mark on me and Umbridge is still poking around." But I was shivering with excitement.

"You don't seem to want me to be careful." He whispered gently, his lips touching my neck. I could just barely fell the tip of his tongue.

"It's your head. . ." I muttered weakly.

He bit me gently and I let out a little moan of ecstasy, trembling with anticipation. I moved my hand so that I could lift his face to mine and I was so rough in my kiss that I accidentally bit his bottom lip- it really wasn't intentional. He wrapped his arms around me so tight I thought he was going to break something and I could feel my back pressed up against the wall.

I could feel his long hair against my face, I could feel one hand on the small of my back, the other wrapped underneath my ass. I could feel his lips and his tongue on mine. I felt everything. Goosebumps rose up on my arms and I tightened them around the back of his head.

"Fuck. . ." I muttered softly.

"How bad you are." he whispered, his lips a quarter of an inch above mine. I had another heart palpitation at those words. "You really should be good. . ." and he pressed his lips to mine again.

🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡

"𝕳𝖎 𝕳𝖆𝖗𝖗𝖞." 𝕴 said brightly, joining him and Ron in the Great Hall for lunch. He looked very downcast and kept shooting looks up at the teachers table. "What's wrong?"

"Umbridge went to the Minister again." Harry spat out. "Fred, George, and I still got the life time ban and she took our brooms."

"What!" I asked, my smile dropping off my face and I sat down. "She can't. . . I guess she can. . ."

"But the Minister said you did nothing wrong apparently." Hermione said soothingly to me. "So you're still Captain. She can't do anything about it."

"And Draco?" I asked through gritted teeth.

"Still on the Slytherin team." Ron said bitterly. "His father probably bribed the Minister or something."

Hagrid reappeared at the teacher's table at that moment. Fred, George, and Lee ran up the aisle, roaring with delight to shake Hagrid's hands. I saw other students, however, exchange gloomy glances, especially at the Ravenclaw table.

"Tuesdays going to be a nightmare for you guys." I muttered. "At least I get him tomorrow morning."

Monday morning I trooped down to Hagrid's cabin along with the Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws. Hagrid was waiting for us, a dead cow slung over his shoulders. Many of the Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws exchanged nervous glances with each other.

"We're workin' in here today! Bit more sheltered! Anyway, they prefer the dark. Right, well, I've bin savin' a trip inter the forest fer yer fifth year. Though we'd go an' see these creatures in their natural habitat. Now, what we're studyin' today is pretty rare, I reckon I'm probably the on'y person in Britain whos' managed ter train 'em. Now then, if yer all ready, let's go an' see 'em."

Hagrid turned and strode into the forest and I followed behind him quickly. The others came after me.

We walked for about ten minutes and we came to a place where the trees stood so closely together that it was almost as dark as though it was twilight. Hagrid dropped the cow on the ground and turned to face the class. His face was a mess but it was well hidden here.

"Gather roun', gather roun'. Now, they'll be attracted by the smell o' the meat but I'm goin' ter give 'em a call anyway, 'cause they'll like ter know it's me." He turned and cupped his hands around his mouth and made some sort of shrieking call. He did it twice more.

I saw them first. Their eyes were blank, white, and shiny. It was hard to see anymore of their body considering they were black in color. The class didn't see them though and from the looks of it, I was the only one who could see them.

"Oh, an' here comes another one!" Hagrid called out and with a shock, I realized that Hagrid could see them. It had never occurred to me before that he could. And I wondered briefly who he had seen die. His father perhaps? But I was sure he'd been at Hogwarts when that happened.

"An' another!" Hagrid said excitedly as a third showed up. "Now put yer hands up, who can see 'em?"

I was the only one in class who raised my hand. I saw some of the Ravenclaws murmuring.

"Yeah. . . I knew you'd be able ter, Elizabeth. Tha' it?" Hagrid asked, looking around. "So these creatures are called Thestrals. Hogwarts has got a whole herd of 'em here. Now, who knows why one of yeh can see it, and other's can't?"

I raised my hand again.

"Go on Elizabeth."

"Only people who have seen someone pass away can see Thestrals." I said, putting my hand down. "That's why people associate them with bad omens. But they aren't really a bad omen, it's only because of the death situation."

"Tha's exactly right." Hagrid said happily. "Ten points ter Hufflepuff. Now, Thestrals usually come as large herds. This particular herd started with five females and one male. This one, name o' Tenebrus, he's my special favorite, firs' one born here in the forest after the male mated with one of the females." He was putting his hand on one of the horses but to everyone else, it looked like it was floating in midair.

Hagrid continued to give us a rundown of the facts about Thestrals and when class was over, I eavesdropped on some of the Ravenclaws.

"That wasn't a horrible lesson." Terry was saying to Anthony, "In fact, as standards go, it was a very interesting lessons. I wonder who Kane watched die."

"It sounds horrible when you put it that way." Anthony said, frowning. "But her parents passed away when she was a baby, maybe it was them."

"Maybe it was Cedric." Terry said and looked over and saw me looking and blushed. I rolled my eyes as they sped up towards the castle.

The next day in Herbology, I saw that Hermione's face was absolutely livid and I assumed the worst.

"You were right." Hermione snapped before I could open my mouth to say anything. "She was absolutely horrible to him."

I kept my mouth shut because Hermione seemed very pissed at me though I wasn't sure why. Then she confronted me after class and I was quite aware about why now.

"You should've told him!" She said angrily as we headed back into the castle. "You should've told him what was going to happen."

"Bloody hell, I'm sorry." I muttered. "But I already tried warning him and you did too and he didn't listen."

There was so much to be done as we entered December too. Hufflepuff played Ravenclaw and though I had foreseen us losing, I caught the snitch in under 17 minutes. I checked the scores and saw that we had won. I wondered why that was but I wasn't going to complain.

There were things to be done as a prefect as well. We had to supervise Christmas decorating, watch first and second-years during their breaks inside classrooms, and also patrol the corridors more often.

I was going to be going home for Christmas. Well, not home home. I was going to Grimmauld place. I hadn't told Sirius but I assumed he'd be happy when I showed up on his doorstep regardless.

I was spending a lot of time in Severus' office when I wasn't doing anything else. I hadn't been back in the forest and I was getting angsty and liked to get rid of my pent up energy by wrestling with him.

"It's freezing in here." I said, my robes draped over the chair. I was sitting in the chair, my feet propped up on his desk while he graded homework and I graded tests. It was cold in the dungeons- I could see my breath misting in the air. "How do you stand it down here?"

"Practice." He said simply. "You get used to it after a while."

I shivered, marking an answer off on the test because it was wrong. My hands started grow numb with cold and I kept putting the quill down to rub my hands together to warm them up again.

Once I was done with the tests, I put them back on his desk and sat down on his bed, wrapping myself in his warm blankets and closed my eyes. I could hear the brief scratches of his quill on the parchment. I dozed briefly until I heard the quill scratches stop and the sound of shoes falling onto the floor.

The bed creaked and he pulled me down so that I was laying next to him. I pressed my feet up against his leg. Somehow, he was still very warm.

"You are cold." He said, sounding immensely surprised and I giggled.

"I did tell you." I said, amused.

"I think your lips are blue." He said seriously.

I pressed my face into his neck. He shivered now. I hesitated for a second and then, blushing, gently bit him. He jumped, not expecting it.

"Did I hurt you?" I asked, pulling away quickly, a worried expression on my face.

He looked at me like it was the first time he was seeing me. "Bloody hell Elizabeth." He said weakly. My hand was on his chest and I could feel his heart was pounding twice as fast as it normally did.

I grinned and lowered my lips back to the same spot, teasing him. He let out a shuddering breath, his hands on my waist. He wasn't pushing me away or pulling me to him, it was more like he was trying to steady himself.

I'd never done this before, but as his heart started to beat faster, I knew I must be doing something right as I ran my tongue down his neck slowly. Then my hands were on the front of his shirt, undoing the upper buttons. He had completely frozen as I finished unbuttoning the last button.

I'd often wondered what he looked like underneath. Sometimes I imagined abs. Sometimes I imagine a smooth stomach. I knew he wasn't fat. I was, however, incredibly impressed with what I saw. He had a full six pack of abs. They weren't the ridiculous kind either that body builders had. He was just. . . solid.

He started to laugh, a low laugh. "You look surprised."

I didn't answer, just trailed my fingers over his abs. I had a mental image of me running my tongue over his abs and blushed beet red. He put his hand on my face and asked, "What are you thinking about?"

I blushed even redder and shook my head, looking away. "Nothing." I said softly.

He cupped my chin in one hand so that I was looking at him. "Really?" He asked softly, amused.

I blushed darker. "Er-"

He pulled my face down lower so that our noses were touching. "Really?" He breathed, his breath tickling me.

"Um-"

He pulled me down so that our lips touched and I was filled with a sudden energy and gripped his waist with my legs, tightening them on either side of him. There was a sudden urgency within me that made me feel that if I didn't kiss him, I was going to die.

He received me eagerly and he rolled over so that he was on top of me, pressing himself down on me. My hands were in his hair, I didn't know where his hands were because all I could think about were his lips on mine.

"Stay for Christmas." He murmured suddenly against my cheek.

"I can't." I said. "I already said I was going home- well, not home- but you know. I don't want Sirius to be alone for Christmas."

He made a sound that might've been out of disgust in the back of his throat and I tried to resurface to glare at him. "Be nice." I stressed.

"I am nice." he murmured, his lips on the right side of my neck.

I giggled. "Besides, why would I stay? I'm at least able to escape Umbridge for a couple weeks."

He groaned. "Fair point, but you could spend Christmas with me."

I smiled at him. "I would but you're not going to be alone here. Sirius is."

He frowned down at me. I stuck my tongue out at him.

"What a child." He muttered, kissing me. I pouted. "Still being a child." he said, amused. I stuck my tongue out again, touching his lips, and he pressed his lips to mine again with renewed vigor.

⬅️➡️

[darklydeliciousdesires]

Runaway - Chapter Sixteen.

Sorry to keep you hanging on this guys! Here you go, though, looking forward to your thoughts as ever, thanks for being such a beautiful audience! As usual, 30 notes unlock the next chapter :)

Previous chapters - Prologue  One  Two  Three  Four  Five  Six  Seven  Eight  Nine  Ten  Eleven  Twelve  Thirteen  Fourteen  Fifteen

Taglist - In the comments, please DM to be added/removed

Words - 1,943

Warnings - 18+ content throughout, minors DNI!

“I did a bad thing.”

The force of the sigh that came from Shonda could have sent a lone vessel over a hundred miles out to sea as Hannah sat down with her on the couch in the bar they were at, wondering what on earth it was this time.  

“White girl, when I need to start taking beta blockers for all the fucking heart palpitations I regularly receive from your antics, I’m sending you the bill!” Lifting her ice-cold beer to her lips, she took a good, fortifying glug, Hannah sipping at her vodka and cranberry before placing the glass down.  

“I had sex with Manny.”

Shonda’s eyes widened, reaching to place her beer down on the table, Hannah having to guide her there when her attempts only made the glass come into contact with the thin air. “Pumpkin!”

“I know!”

“He’s engaged!”

“I know! But if it counts for anything, he isn’t happy with her.”

“That doesn’t make it right!”

Hannah groaned, hiding her face behind her hands for a moment. “I’m aware, and I know this is me being me, again.”

“Imma need this beer back, shit.” Lifting her glass, Shonda all but drained it, burping discreetly behind her hand. “Excuse me. Right, back to Manny. Oh, I swear for lord, your impulsiveness is going to be your ruin one day, Hannah Elizabeth Gray. You get yourself into these situations every time, because you just can’t stop yourself.” She took a breath, realising that the time for admonishing her had come and gone. “So, how was it?”

Hannah closed her eyes for a second, and it flashed through her mind, the night of sexual perfection they’d enjoyed, the aftermath even sweeter when after she’d fed Lola in the early hours, they’d all lain in bed together, the baby between her parents, looking between them as she played with her feet. It had been beautiful, just the three of them. A little family.  

“It was amazing. I swear, maybe if he wasn’t so criminally good in bed, it might not have happened, but he is, and he’s gorgeous, and he told me that he’d missed me, and he made me feel beautiful again! And then we just lay there with the baby a few hours afterwards, and it was perfect,” she explained, resting her hand beneath her chin. “And I can’t have it, because he still went back to Carmen.”

Shonda was puzzled. “Were you expecting it to be something else, then, rather than the bad thing you alluded to?”  

“I don’t know, no... yes... I mean...” She paused to gather her thoughts, taking a swig of her drink, the alcohol helping her focus. “I didn’t think to begin with, I just went with it. We wanted one another and I didn’t go into it with any expectations, but he kept telling me he missed me, and it was so fucking... it wasn’t just a mindless, brutal fuck. It was beautiful. And then lying there with Lola afterwards, I felt like something had shifted. Something significant.”  

“So, how did you guys leave it?” She felt this was the next most pertinent question to ask.  

“Well, it wasn’t awkward, but we made no mention of it. He left at 6am and I won’t hear from him now until he comes to pick Lola up on Thursday. I don’t really know what to say to him about it, how to tell him, that I think I want it to be more with him. Because no matter that he told me about how he isn’t happy at the moment, and I heard why, she called him when he was at mine and gave him hell for deciding to be there with me instead of going home to her, I still don’t know if that definitely points to him wanting to be with me. It was on the night of that huge storm, that it happened,” she explained.

“Right, right,” Shonda nodded in interjection.

“And so yeah. Everything she feared would happen actually did, he ended up cheating on her with me. I do feel lousy about that, I do. He’s someone else’s fiancé, and it was wrong for us to just fall so easily into bed with one another, but, but, oh, hell...”

Shonda rested her hand on her shoulder, softly stroking her skin with her thumb. “He’s the father of your child, someone who, no matter how briefly your first coming together was, you have a connection with.”

She nodded, feeling a little teary, Shonda quick to pull her into a warm hug. “Yeah, that’s it. And now I’ve messed it all up.”  

“Just talk to him,” she advised, stroking her back fondly. “Because if he feels the same about you, then you might be doing exactly what he did for you; saving him from marrying someone he shouldn’t be.”  

Meanwhile, across town, someone else was settling in for afternoon drinks. Except his weren’t a precursor to lunch and an afternoon out shopping with his bestie.  

“Any particular reason you’re pounding ‘em back at 2pm?” Taza asked as Manny poured another shot of Patron.

He straightened, lifting the glass to his lips, sinking the contents. “Shall we just say because I’m a fuck up and leave it at that?”

The elder man nodded, leaving it there. “Here, take him for me. I gotta go head down to Vicky’s with Riz.” Lowering his shoulder, Charlie scampered off onto Manny’s arm, giving himself a little groom as his new human perch rested his head back down on his fist with a sigh. Whereas Taza was content to leave him to it, the same could not be said for the bird.  

“Sad. Why sad?”  

“I ain’t sad, Charlie,” Manny began, watching him come into his line of vision as he hopped down his arm onto the bar, Charlie nudging his hand until he rubbed his feathers. “I’m just stupid, is all.” Charlie clicked his beak a few times, shaking his head before scampering off down the bar to where a small bowl of bar snacks sat, picking up a pretzel and bringing it back, placing it next to Manny. He then returned, bringing another.  

“Snacks. Manny snacks.”  

He smiled, throwing them into his mouth. Snacks always made Charlie happy, so when he sensed that someone he liked was feeling down, he liked to offer the same. “You’re an awesome dude, aren’t you?”

“Charlie’s a good boy!”

“Yeah, homes. You are.” He snorted softly then, sighing. “I ain’t, though.”  

For the last two days, all he’d had on his mind was his indiscretion. He’d never truly cheated on anyone before, save kissing other girls back in high school when he’d been with someone else, but that was all kid stuff in relationships that had only lasted a number of weeks. It wasn’t this, having sex with his baby mama behind his fiancée's back, the very thing Carmen had feared he’d do.  

The very thing he’d been incensed over her even hinting at, and he’d done it without a second thought. What made it worse? He felt bad because he didn’t feel bad at the time, when he was having sex with Hannah. Why? It felt right. He felt like he should have been there with her. It was returning to Carmen that felt alien.  

She wasn’t speaking to him, again, because of the fact he’d only arrived home at 6:30am on the morning following the storm. All he could think was how difficult she had to make everything, how she couldn’t be more like Hannah, which he knew was wrong to do. Him and her, though, that ship had sailed, because surely if she felt anything more for him than just having another one-night stand with him, she’d have spoken up?  

Wouldn’t she?

“Mama!” Charlie’s shout roused him from his thoughts, Manny turning to see Lily enter the clubhouse, her beloved bird beginning to bob and dance in welcoming of her.  

“Hello, baby boy!” she cooed softly, holding out her arm, Charlie scampering up to snuggle against her neck, preening her hair. “You being Manny’s drinking buddy, huh?”

“Manny sad.”

“Aw, hell, homie. Giving away my secrets,” the man himself spoke, turning to softly prod Charlie’s chest with his finger.  

Lily cocked her head to the side, reaching to stroke his arm fondly. “The bird didn’t need to say anything for me to see that, honey. What’s wrong?”

If there was one woman he knew he could reveal anything to without worrying what her response would be, it was Lily. Angel was his closest friend, and by extension, so was his wife. “I might have been a bad man.”

“Might?” she questioned, thanking Yasmine, one of the newer girls working behind the bar when she placed a vodka rocks down in front of her.  

He smiled thinly, scratching his short beard. “I had sex with Hannah two days ago.”

Lily’s eyes widened in an instant. “Oh boy. Yasmine, keep the drinks coming, pretty girl.” She duly did, Lily finishing hers with another swig. “Well, that’s a, ah, a... predicament you’ve gotten yourself into.”  

“I sense you’re holding back from telling me like it is,” he observed, knowing with Lily, that would be exactly what he’d get. She was kind and sweet, but she always cut right through the bullshit with her advice. Although adopted, she was very, very much like her dad in that respect.  

“Tell it! Testify!”  

They both erupted at that, Charlie’s assessment of the situation, beginning to dance on Lily’s shoulder before he looked towards the door. “Creep! Creep! Playtime!”  

“Alright, homie, I’m coming,” Creeper spoke, arriving with them and lowering his shoulder for the bird to hop on, taking a beer passed to him by Yasmine. “I gotta go head out and see to a pile of cars being crushed before I’m finished, and he loves that, so I’ll take him.” Taking his leash, he threaded it through the buttonhole of his shirt, leaving with the celebrity of Romero Brothers on his shoulder, jabbering nonsense into his ear.  

“So, the telling it like it is,” Lily began, deciding to treat herself to a seldom enjoyed cigarette. She’d quit completely after getting pregnant with Willow, but allowed herself one on occasion, keeping a pack behind the bar that she reached beneath to locate. “You know it was bad, I don’t have to hammer that point home to you any further. But to be truthful, I can see why you did. That girl you’re engaged to, Manny I’m sorry, but you can do so much better.”

He began to nod. “Never did like her, did you?”

“Oh, hell no,” she revealed with a soft snort. “She isn’t exactly personable. However, it doesn’t matter what I or anyone else thinks of her. If you love her and want to be with her, then what you did with Hannah can’t happen again. You have to be better than that.”

Be better. He knew her words made all the sense in the world.  

“She’s asleep,” he mouthed, carrying Lola in her car seat into Hannah’s apartment the following late Thursday afternoon, placing her down and turning to her. Be better. The words burned through his head, but from the moment he met Hannah’s gaze, they soon burned themselves right out of his brain before he picked her up, pressed a kiss of raw heat to her lips, and swiftly fucked her against her apartment door while their baby slept on.  

Be better. God, if it was that easy to go from nought to a thousand with the mother of his child, being better would take significantly stronger willpower.  

[literaryfandomangel]

Time after Time - Chapter Five

As the next few weeks went by, my routine remained consistent. I found myself spending most of my days sleeping, often being roused by Mom to administer another bag of food. Throughout this time, the guys would take turns staying with me, ensuring I was not alone in the house.

Unfortunately, my memories of Christmas day are quite fuzzy, but one thing that stands out is the comfort of the new pajamas my Mom gifted me. It was our first official Christmas at Grandpa’s cabin, and I wished I could have been more lucid for this cherished time of the year. Despite struggling to make ends meet, what mattered most was the ability to spend time with family and friends. We decorated the pine tree with homemade ornaments made during Sam and my childhood, sang carols while decorating cookies, and savored the smell of spices filling up the house. I cherished those moments so much that I wore the pajamas until Mom insisted on taking them away to be laundered during one of my showers. As I was still feeling weak, I had to depend on Mom or one of the guys for a lot of help and support.

I was deeply appreciative of their understanding and patience during that time. Whenever I nodded off in the middle of one of Marko's stories, he would kindly pause and then calmly reiterate it once I was awake again. I was overwhelmed with guilt and found myself apologizing profusely throughout those few weeks as I worked tirelessly to regain my cognitive abilities.

The experience of malnourishment often leads to cognitive challenges that may not be immediately apparent to those who have never experienced it. Individuals affected by malnutrition often find that their mental faculties are slowed down, making it difficult to process information and engage in conversations. It can feel like constantly lagging, struggling to keep up with the pace of interactions, and having delayed response times. This cognitive impact serves as a reminder of the profound effects of malnourishment on both the body and the mind.

In mid-January, as the winter days grew longer, I noticed a significant improvement in my ability to stay awake for longer periods. It was a milestone moment when my mom drove me to a necessary appointment in town, where the nurse was genuinely thrilled with the progress I was making. The results from my lab tests showed marked improvement, and I was overjoyed to learn that I had gained approximately one pound since my return to Santa Carla. It was a relief to feel that my heart wasn't palpitating as frequently as it had back in Phoenix, indicating a positive shift in my overall health.

The medical team recommended that I incorporate solid food into my diet alongside the feeding bags, which were still necessary as I was on a liquid diet. They suggested to my mom that I should initially introduce broths and then gradually move on to soups. After successfully tolerating soups, I could then progress to a pureed diet.

I was informed that if I could tolerate the puréed diet, the medical staff would begin to reduce the number of feeding bags I received each day. Their goal was for me to be weaned off the feeding bags as long as I could maintain my weight and continue to gain. I was in agreement with this plan as I was eager to be free from the feeding tube and ready to reintroduce solid food into my diet. Fortunately, returning to Santa Carla had alleviated the intense nausea and pain I had experienced while in Phoenix. This change gave me confidence that I would be able to gain weight while there and effectively keep my food down.

When I arrived home with my mom, my four boyfriends were still sound asleep. It was unusual to see them sleeping during the day and being awake at night. I assumed that they took turns staying awake at night to watch over me so that my mom could get some sleep. However, it struck me that they had this sleeping pattern even before I left for Phoenix, so it seemed like it was just their usual routine.

“Aria, do you want a cup of chicken broth?” As my shivers wracked my body, I felt the weight of my mother's concern as she gently guided me to the cozy sofa. Pulling the soft blanket over me, I settled in, ready to follow her advice. The medical team's suggestions echoed in my mind, urging me to take this step forward. With a deep breath, I embraced the opportunity, knowing that there was no harm in giving it a try.

“Sure,” I winced as the sound of my own voice reverberated through the room. It was hoarse and deep, a result of weeks of neglect and lack of use of my vocal cords. As I sat in the living room, I watched my mom leave and make her way to the kitchen. The sound of pans and pots clanging against each other filled the air as she went about the task of heating the savory broth on the stove. The metallic clang echoed through the house, creating a bustling atmosphere in the kitchen.

I cautiously held my breath, fully aware of the fragile silence enveloping the house. After what felt like an eternity, with no stirring or disturbance from upstairs, it became clear to me that the guests' tranquil state could withstand even a nuclear explosion without so much as a flutter.

As soon as my mom returned, she was cradling a steaming cup of broth in her hands. Gently, she set it down on the table in front of the sofa, warning me about the heat that had transferred from the contents to the glass. I waited for a few moments, allowing the temperature to cool slightly, before attempting to lift the weighty glass with both hands. As I strained to raise the cup, my arms quivered with the effort, and I focused intently on preventing the scalding broth from spilling onto myself or the sofa.

The initial sips of the broth sent ripples of discomfort through my stomach, causing it to churn and protest against the intense saltiness. I found myself repeatedly placing the glass on the table as I fought to maintain control over the rebellious contents in my stomach, striving to prevent any possibility of it being expelled forcefully across the room.

I managed to drink only a quarter of the cup of broth my mom had made that afternoon. The warm aroma of the broth filled the kitchen, and as I sipped it slowly, I could feel the comforting warmth spreading through me. Mom, ever understanding, wasn't upset about the small quantity I drank; she just hung another bag to infuse more flavor into the broth. As the sun dipped below the horizon and the night settled in, I found myself savoring another cup of the nourishing liquid. The stillness of the evening was broken only by the sound of my boyfriend's slow, deliberate footsteps coming down the stairs, and my heart quickened in anticipation as I waited for them to join me.

“Looks like good news, Princess!” Dwayne was the first to notice my attempts at eating food. When my mom confirmed the prognosis, the four males cheered, giving me attention and positive reinforcement. With their presence, I was able to finish about half of the cup of broth, to everyone’s astonishment.

[the-new-ribbon]

I’ve Been Loving You For Quite Some Time (and it’s about time we do something about it)

synopsis: Gwyn Berdara and Azriel Night have been friends since their senior year of college. Years later they find themselves both working at Moonlight University. They've strictly stuck to being friends, but when they travel to Nesta and Cassian’s elopement, the last thing they ever expected was to wind up drunk and standing at the altar of a drive-thru wedding chapel.

word count: 1825

read here:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/54767785/chapters/138810226

or below the cut!

Gwyn

The hot and dry air welcomes Gwyn and Azriel as they step out of the airport. There is also a tension between her and Az that was stronger than before. She wonders if his heart beat is as fast as hers. Heart palpitations from a crush wouldn’t be the worst way to do, but it would be just a tad embarrassing. Unrequited love because she couldn’t get it together and tell Azriel how she feels.

Nesta and Cassian are standing in front of their Jeep they rented for the weekend.

Gwyn’s bag is left behind on the sidewalk when she spots Nesta and runs at full speed towards her. “Gwyn, you made it!”

“Were you worried I wasn’t? You’re my best friend, I wouldn’t have missed this for the world. Plus my students love me since I canceled class today and Monday.” one of the many reasons why she is one of the most popular professors at Moonlight. Other reasons included that she didn’t give ridiculous homework assignments, rather they just read romance books and discussed them in each class. Az on the other hand is the grumpy professor who’s always giving out homework and never cancels class.

“No, I knew you would be here. I was worried you’d be bored with Mr. Grumpy Professor.” Nesta breaks eye contact and shoots a look at Az, who’s now holding Gwyn’s discarded bag.

He’s making it very difficult to just be friends. If he keeps doing stuff like this she’ll get down on one knee and marry him now. And being in Adriata, there’s a heightened sense of romance, making it only more difficult to be just friends with Azriel Night.

First it was the first class ticket, then it was their banter about her bag, him saying her name as he begged for her attention just so he could read one of her books, plus all the other things he’s done since their senior year of college.

“Good to see you, Gwynnie.” Cassian wraps his arm around Gwyn in a hug. His shoulder length hair is tied into a bun, a few small pieces have even fallen or were pulled out for some shaping. 

“Hi Cassian.” 

“We should get going. We have to get ready for tonight.” Nesta cuts it. “We’re celebrating my last night before becoming a wife!” 

Cassian clears his throat and tightens his hold on Nesta in a loving way, “Sweetheart, you’ve been my wife since the day I put that ring on your finger.”

“I know and I love you for it. But technically speaking, it’s my last night as a fiancee.” Nesta looks up and smiles at her fiance.

The four of them climb into the car, Nesta and Cassian grab hands as soon as they’re situated but there’s a weird tension between Gwyn and Azriel. The middle seat of the back seat is empty, Gwyn’s right hand rests in it and Azriel’s left hand is only a few inches apart. 

Without thinking, as the car gets closer to the hotel, Gwyn feels a warm hand cover her freezing ones. She looks away from the window and sees Azriel looking at her. His longing gaze makes her stomach fill with butterflies. A simple, beautiful smile spreads on her face and Gwyn feels like she could faint. Az never smiles but Gwyn learns that she might be more special than others around him.

While they were walking out of the airport, Azriel and Gwyn made a promise that when they got to the hotel, they’d immediately take Nesta and Cassian to get ready. Nesta was spending the weekend in the same room with Gwyn, and Azriel and Cassian would be in the same room. 

That’s exactly what they do. Gwyn’s hand intertwines with Nesta’s and begins to pull her to the elevator.

“Wait!” Nesta shouts, stopping in her tracks. She runs back to Azriel and Cassian, jumping into Cassian’s arms and kissing him. “I love you, I’ll see you in an hour. Don’t do anything stupid.”

“I’m going to do one stupid thing, I’m hanging out with Az afterall, but it won’t affect our wedding or you.”

She gives Cassian a look that makes Cassian smile. 

“Okay, okay. I won’t do anything stupid. I love you, sweetheart.” 

The white marble floors have a light blue undertone that matches the waves crashing outside the window. The large columns have seahorses carved into them. Gwyn and Nesta’s room is full of natural light and has a matching aesthetic as the lobby and the rest of the hotel.

The two of them each unpack; setting their toiletries on the pearl colored counter. Gwyn’s copper colored hair and Nesta’s golden brown hair reflect the sun as Gwyn rests her head on Nesta’s shoulder in the mirror. 

“I’m really happy for you Nesta.” Gwyn says.

“Thank you. I’m happy you’re here with me, Gwyn. I wouldn’t be here if you didn’t set me up on that date.” Gwyn and Azriel met before Nesta met Cassian, but with Gwyn being best friends with Nesta and Azriel being best friends with Cassian, the two worked tirelessly to get them both at the same place at the same time. Nesta protested since Thomas broke her heart just weeks before, but with Cassian’s charming smile and personality, it worked. Even if it hasn’t always been easy.

“I think Cassian would have gotten your attention sooner or later, he’s very in love with you and has been for a very long time.” 

A cherry red blush covers Nesta’s cheeks.

*~~~*

Gwyn applies eyeliner to her freckled eyelids, and a light pink gloss to her lips. Nesta applies a dark red lipstick to her lips and steps away from the bathroom counter to the full length mirror on the adjacent wall.

“So are we going to talk about the elephant in the room?”  Nesta asks, adjusting her black, skin tight dress in the mirror. She spins to look over her shoulder at the back of her dress.

Gwyn finishes tying a white ribbon in her hair and looks at Nesta, “What are you talking about?”

“Gwyneth Berdara, Azriel has eyes for you and has a giant crush on you.” Nesta says loudly. Gwyn’s stomach drops and she feels her cheeks warm. 

Her arms go behind her back as she thinks back to what happened on the drive here and the flirtiness on the plane. The teasing in the gate at the airport about her bag. 

“I think he was flirting with me on the plane, he even asked to read one of my books.” Gwyn says with a huge smile on her face. “But I’m not sure, maybe he was just being friendly.”

“Two things. One, “just friends,” don’t look at or act like you two. You two are basically dating. Two, which book did you give him?”

“My favorite book, A Dance of Shadows, of course!” with plenty of post-it tabs and notes in the margins, even highlights of her favorite quotes and scenes. 

“Good choice, Berdara. He’ll definitely like it.” especially because it’s your favorite, Gwyn, is unsaid but Gwyn can see it on Nesta’s face.

“There’s one more thing.” Nesta’s head shoots up and she steps closer to Gwyn. “Heheldmyhandinthecaronthewayhere.”

Nesta’s jaw drops and Gwyn’s hands move from behind her back to her face, covering her smile but it’s so big that smile lines form around her eyes. 

Azriel 

To say that holding Gwyn’s hand changed his entire life would be an understatement. It changed his entire universe. New stars formed in the sky and the world is suddenly brighter than it was just hours ago. He used to think that he never had a chance with her but these past few hours proved that he might have a chance. Her freckled hand against his scarred hand that once made him shudder in unworthiness and flood with insecurities. But with Gwyn, those feelings and insecurities aren’t there anymore. He just felt something that feels a little like something like fondness. With Gwyn, a new sense of intimacy he’s never felt before comes to light.

“Az!” Cassian slams his hand on Azriel’s back. “This is my wedding weekend but why can I feel that you’re keeping something a secret? You’ve been different since we picked you and Gwyn from the airport.”

“I flirted with Gwyn on the plane and then I held her hand in the car on the way here.” He confesses, feeling like a weight has been lifted off his shoulder but still feeling a smaller weight on his heart. Why can’t he just tell Gwyn how he feels? It’s been years, small flirty comments here and there but it’s finally caught up to him. It’s taken over his thoughts.

“Well it’s about time. I’ve seen the way you two look at each other. You’ve been in love with her for years, I’m surprised it took you this long to finally say it out loud.”

Cassian has this ridiculous smile on his face and ruffles Azriel’s hair. Azriel elbows him in the stomach. “You’re an ass,’’ he says even with a smile on his face.

“Correction, I’m your best friend.” Cassian says, holding his pointer finger up.

*~~~*

Azriel changes into a black button up shirt and black slacks, and a pair of dressier, but not too fancy, black shoes. His silver chain around his neck peeks out from behind the couple of undone buttons. He runs his fingers through his inky black hair and fixes all his ringers on his fingers before grabbing his glasses from the table, sliding them back on his nose.

Tell her how you feel, Az. You can’t keep going down this path of avoiding your feelings and continuing to flirt with Gwyn if you aren’t going to do anything about it. She doesn’t deserve it.

Cassian strolls out of the second room, a red button up forms around his defined biceps, his hair tied back. 

“Ready to go? We should get down there before Nes and Gwyn.” Cass says, fixing the black leather bracelet Nesta gave him last Christms.

There aren’t many people in the lobby – a few hotel workers walking around making sure everything looks good while a few guests talk at the bar across the way. Az and Cass find two empty chairs with a view of the elevators to wait.

When the elevator door chimes a few moments later, the two males stand up, tucking their hands into the front pockets of their pants. Gwyn and Nesta walk out of the elevator, Gwyn’s arm looped through Nesta’s, and giant smiles on their faces.

Gwyn's attention leaves Nesta and focuses on Azriel. She smiles at him from across the lobby, waving at him, and contrary to everyone else, he smiles and waves back. It isn’t a small, toothless smile either, it is a full on smile that makes his dimples pop and his cheeks hurt.

His smiles are reserved for Gwyn only.

[beefromanoff]

Going Under Ch. 21

summary: a whole 21 chapters in…they finally go on a first official date. it’s only fitting that this is the longest chapter yet. enjoy 🖤

characters: Bucky Barnes x OC

soundtrack: i can see you - Taylor Swift

warnings: fluff, pop star fantasy x love story, set in an AU where the Avengers reunite after Civil War, pre-infinity war, slight angst, hurt/comfort, lonely reader/OC.

author’s note: longest chapter yet WOOOOO! i know it ends on somewhat of a cliffhanger, but next chapter will have some flashbacks and fill in gaps. thanks for reading, xo!

chapter list

_________________________________________________

The sun was barely beginning to peek over the horizon, but Gianna was already out at the lake. She couldn’t sleep. All night, she’d tossed and turned and played the previous night over and over in her head. Finally, around 4:00am, she just got up. Luckily, the shift change for the night crew was around 4:30, so the grounds weren’t completely empty. She still felt a little spooked from time to time, and wandering around alone in the middle of the night didn’t do much for her nerves. 

She scrawled lines in her notebook, having written almost a whole song in the time since she’d been up. Looking over what she’d written, she sang softly to herself. 

And we kept everything professional

But something's changed, it's somethin' I, I like

They keep watchful eyes on us

So it's best that we move fast and keep quiet

You won't believe half the things I see inside my head

Wait 'til you see half the things that haven't happened yet

But what would you do if I went to touch you now?

What would you do if they never found us out?

What would you do if we never made a sound?

'Cause I can see you waitin' down the hall from me

And I could see you up against the wall with me

And what would you do, baby, if you only knew?

“Let me guess…it’s about Sam.” 

Gianna jumped as Steve’s voice interrupted the quiet morning. She turned to see him walking down the dock towards her, grinning. 

“It’s about Natasha, actually.” She rubbed her forehead, heart pounding. “You scared me.” 

“Sorry, I don’t mean to interrupt. I was just finishing up running. I can leave you to it.” He smiled sheepishly.

“No, no, this was good. I usually don’t have heart palpitations until my third cup of coffee, so you’re saving me time.” She stood to her feet as he chuckled. “Speaking of which, cup number two is calling my name.”

“I’ll walk with you. Long night?” Steve always found the balance between teasing and being kind, which Gianna appreciated. 

“Couldn’t sleep.” 

“Something tells me you weren’t the only one.” 

Gianna glanced up at him, eyebrow raised. 

“Bucky passed me an hour and a half ago, he was finishing up right when I got started. Which isn’t exactly late in the day. I’m guessing he’s in the training room now.” 

“Is that a good sign?” 

“Let’s just say he hasn’t been on a first date in…a while. He’s just nervous.”

“He has nothing to be nervous about, we spend every single day together. Literally. Every day for the past four months, with the slight exception of me being unconscious in the hospital, we’ve been together.” 

“He was there, too. In the hospital.” Steve smiled. “He left before you woke up. But he was there.” 

Gianna frowned. “See? I don’t want him to feel stressed, I feel bad, this shouldn’t be something upsetting.” 

“No, trust me, he’s not upset.” Steve laughed, waving her concerns off. “He just gets in his head. For a guy who doesn’t get too enthused about much, he actually cares quite a bit about doing things right. It’s endearing, once you get past the grouchy exterior.” 

“If you say so,” she smiled. “The last thing a semi-stable one hundred year old man needs is added stress.” 

“Hey, watch it. Age is just a number.” 

“Now you sound like Tony.”

“Don’t insult me.” 

_______________

For the rest of the morning, Gianna followed her normal routine. Get coffee, make herself slightly (only slightly) more presentable, chat with whoever happened to be in the common area (today, it was Sam), and then head down to watch Bucky train. With their evening plans hanging in the air, she felt a strange flurry of nerves in her stomach as she walked down the trail to the training building. 

Since it was a Friday, they’d be going over weapons out on the range. After a week of getting their asses handed to them in combat training, Steve and Bucky liked to end the week on a more positive note. Rounding the corner to the shooting range behind the building, Gianna spotted the duo standing near a rack of weaponry. The recruits weren’t set to begin for another ten minutes. 

“Good morning, Buck! Good morning, again, Steve!” Her voice was cheery as she greeted the super soldiers. 

“Good morning, again.” Steve smiled, stepping off to the side. 

“Morning, sunshine.” Bucky’s smile had a hint of orneriness to it. “You look cheerful this morning.” 

“I have a hot date tonight.” She winked. 

“Oof,” Bucky put a metal hand over his chest. “Don’t make me jealous.” 

“Don’t be too upset, I’m just planning on using him for his body.” Gianna kept a straight face as she shrugged. 

“Ah, I see.” He grinned. “Something tells me he won’t mind.”

The activity around them picked up as the group of SHIELD agents began to file around the corner. Gianna stepped back and began to walk towards a shady tree a few yards behind them, the perfect place to watch without being in the way. 

“Oh, Gianna,” Bucky called after her. “Be ready at 7.”

She did a mock salute as she slunk down at the base of the tree. Suddenly, her mind filled with questions about the logistics of the evening. Where the hell would they go? What should she wear? Was she even allowed to leave the compound? She whipped out her phone.

Gianna: WANDA. SOS. 

Wanda: ???? what’s wrong?

Gianna: Bucky asked me to dinner. TONIGHT. 

Wanda: omg - it’s about time! i still need deets about last night!

Gianna: deal, but I need help! I don’t have any clothes here that aren’t sweats! I don’t even know what he’s planning! 

Wanda: meet me at my room in an hour. 

Gianna: my hero!

Looking up, Gianna went back to observing the class. The gentle fall breeze provided a welcome calm in contrast to the butterflies in her stomach. She sat, hazelnut latte in hand, and focused her attention solely on the training area, not all her questions about the evening. She admired how effortlessly Steve and Bucky moved as they demonstrated each technique, their years of experience evident in every precise movement. Seeing Bucky at work, channeling years of horrific experiences into something good, it couldn’t be beat. 

Especially since his training attire was more on the snug side.

As she watched, Gianna couldn't help but marvel at Bucky's rugged charm. His dark hair was tousled from the wind, his large frame commanding even in a group of elite agents. His focus was unwavering as he instructed the recruits, his voice calm and authoritative. Ever so patient, he took a pistol from one of the recruits and demonstrated proper hand positioning before handing it back. She smiled to herself. 

I am a huge Bucky Barnes fan. 

However, Gianna's admiration was interrupted when her gaze landed on a dark-haired female agent among the recruits. The agent seemed to be going out of her way to catch Bucky's attention, a subtle flirtatiousness in her actions as she showcased her skills with the weapons. Every time she’d hit a target, her eyes flicked back to see if he was watching. Gianna couldn't deny the twinge of jealousy that washed over her. Narrowing her eyes, she tried to see if she recognized the girl. 

She was taller than Gianna, which wasn’t saying a ton, and had a long, lean stature. Gianna made a mental note to ask Nat who she was. 

Bucky, to his credit, remained focused on the task at hand, offering equal attention to all the recruits. He provided constructive feedback and demonstrated techniques, his professionalism unwavering. But even he couldn't help but notice when the female agent made a particularly daring move, doing a front somersault into a defensive position, firing the gun straight into the center of the target. 

When she inevitably glanced towards him, he gave her a nod of approval. Not exactly a warm and fuzzy reaction, but it made Gianna’s stomach turn just the same. 

As the training session continued, she shifted her focus back to the demonstration as a whole. She watched as Bucky effortlessly disarmed one of the recruits, his movements fluid and precise. There was a deep sense of respect and admiration in the way the trainees looked at him. 

Except for this bitch. I know that look. She’s undressing him with her eyes. Gianna recognized it because it wasn’t exactly unfamiliar for her. She set her jaw, reminding herself who he had the date with that evening. Pulling out her phone, she sent Wanda another text. 

Gianna: def gonna need something sexy. 

As the training session came to a close, most of the new recruits filed off to the side, discussing their progress and exchanging stories. The brunette agent, however, hung back, her gaze fixed on Bucky, determination etched across her features.

He was gathering his training materials, unaware of the lingering presence nearby. He tucked his hair behind his ear, oblivious to the brunette's intent. She took a step closer, her smile just a touch too friendly as she spoke, 

"Sergeant Barnes, that was an incredible session. You really know your stuff, not that anyone’s surprised. I’d love to get some follow up instruction sometime, maybe after class next week? I have a few techniques I’m having trouble perfecting."

Before Bucky could respond, Gianna decided it was time to make her presence known. With a confident stride, she approached the pair, fueled by the little ball of envy in her stomach. She stopped right in front of Bucky, a warm smile gracing her lips as she tilted her head to look up at him, her back to the brunette as if she didn’t exist.

"Bucky," Gianna purred, "I can't wait for tonight."

She stood on tiptoe, her lips finding Bucky's in a sweet, lingering kiss. Her hand wrapped around the back of his head, feeling his soft hair in her fingers. Bucky was taken by surprise, but as their lips met, he felt a rush of warmth that left him momentarily breathless. He smiled into their kiss. 

The brunette agent, however, was far from pleased. Her eyes widened in shock, and she took a step back, clearly annoyed that her moment had been so abruptly interrupted. She cleared her throat and shot Gianna a rather icy glare.

Pulling back, Gianna turned to the agent as if seeing her for the first time. “Oh, I’m so rude! Hi, I’m Gianna.” She held her hand out to the agent who reluctantly shook it. 

“Agent Allison.” 

“Nice to meet you.” She gave her most innocent, America’s Sweetheart smile before turning back. 

Bucky, still somewhat dazed by the unexpected kiss, managed to find his voice. "Tonight. I can’t wait.” He had that adorable half-grin she adored. 

Gianna's smile widened. "Great! See you later, Buck.” Turning, she let her hips swing just a little more than usual when she walked away. Fully aware of both sets of eyes on her, she smiled to herself. I got a little territorial, so what?

As she walked away, Bucky barely glanced back at Agent Allison, who was still standing there, fuming and forgotten. “Yeah, uh, good work. See you next week.” 

He walked back toward the training building, catching Steve’s eye. He raised his eyebrows and shrugged as Steve chuckled. 

“I think Gianna just marked her territory.” He clapped a hand on Bucky’s back.

“I guess so.” Bucky shook his head, still grinning.

_____________________________________________

Gianna sat cross-legged on Wanda's bed, surrounded by a sea of outfits that had been meticulously pulled from her wardrobe. Clothes were strewn across the bed and even scattered on the floor, creating a colorful and slightly chaotic scene. 7pm was rapidly approaching, and she hadn’t even brushed her hair yet.

Wanda, perched on the edge of a chair, regarded Gianna with a knowing smile. “I don’t want to brag, but I’m kind of a fashion connoisseur. Just about anything in here would knock Bucky off his feet, especially with you in it."

“Ugh, thank you so much, seriously. I haven’t even had to think what to wear since I got here, it’s basically just sweatsuit city. I didn’t think I’d need date attire.”

Wanda raised an eyebrow. “Really? You didn’t think this would happen?” 

“I don’t know…I guess I hoped it would. I just, I didn’t know how he felt. We worked together, then I kissed him at the party, then everything went to shit, and now I’m here.” 

“Well,” Wanda stood to her feet, pulling three outfit options from the bed. “I’m glad you’re here. Until we can have an official shopping spree in the city, what’s mine is yours. Try these.” She thrust the clothes into Gianna’s arms. 

Gianna nodded as she examined the options. She wanted something that would look pretty, sweet, but also sexy. Especially after the encounter with the brunette agent who had been eyeing Bucky a little too closely.

As she slipped on the first dress, Gianna couldn't help but vent her frustrations to Wanda. "You won't believe what happened earlier during the training session. Agent Allison, the brunette one, she was practically throwing herself at Bucky. I mean, I could practically see the hearts in her eyes!"

Wanda smirked, a hint of amusement in her expression. "Really? What did you do?"

"Well…I kissed Bucky, told him how excited I am for our date tonight, and then shook her hand.”

“Damn, subtle. You're not one to hold back, are you?"

Gianna grinned. "Nope. Not when it comes to something I want."

Wanda giggled. "I can see why. But remember, Gianna, you don't need to compete for his attention. Bucky cares about you, and he's chosen to be with you. Girls have been fawning over Mr. Dark and Mysterious since he got here a few years back, I don’t even think he notices."

Gianna sighed, smoothing the fabric on the dress as she looked in the mirror "You're right. It's just hard not to feel a little possessive when someone’s basically throwing themselves at your…well, I guess he’s not my anything yet.”

“Oh, shut up.” Wanda looked over her shoulder in the mirror and fluffed Gianna’s hair. “Have you seen the way he looks at you? He’s yours.”

Blushing, Gianna fought back a smile. “I’m really glad you’re here. It’s been nice to have a friend. Like, a real girl friend.” 

“Don’t make me emotional.” Wanda waved her hand. “We have work to do.” She winked, handing another dress to Gianna to try on. 

___________________________________________

6:55pm. 

That was the time Bucky knocked on her door. 

He’d waited as long as he possibly could. Living with Natasha and Wanda, and having grown up with a sister, he knew it was a severe offense to rush or interrupt the getting ready process. But here he was, standing outside her door with flowers in his hand, a whole five minutes early.

After training, he’d struggled to find ways to kill the rest of the afternoon. Gianna was nowhere to be found, Steve could only handle his nervous energy for so long before he made Bucky go for another run, and it took less than an hour to set up for the date he’d meticulously planned. Even though he’d only officially asked her last night, Bucky had asked the girls to help him round up some supplies as soon as he noticed Gianna’s favorite place at the compound. 

He ran a hand through his hair, taking a deep breath as he heard her footsteps approaching the door. “Hi.” The door opened and there she was. Gianna Cruz, waiting for him to come retrieve her like she’d done so many times over the past few months. Except this time was different. This time, he wasn’t working. He wasn’t here as her security, ready to escort her to her real life obligation. He was here as her date. Finally. 

“Hi,” She was grinning from ear to ear when she opened the door, eyes crinkling even more when she saw the flowers in his hand. Her hair was loosely braided, a few imperfect curls falling into her face. She’d kept her natural hair, something he’d always loved but couldn’t remember if he ever vocalized. “Two days in a row? James Buchanan Barnes. Ladies’ man extraordinaire.” 

“You ready?” He smiled and held out his arm for her to take. 

“Mmm, you could give me another two hours and I’d still be changing my hair. So it’s best just to call it.” She brushed a curl out of her face. 

“I don’t think you should change a thing. I always liked your hair like that.”

“Messy?” She looked at him sheepishly. 

“Natural.” He reached up and touched one of the curls hanging beside her face, sending a shiver down her spine when his fingertips brushed her ear. “It’s so pretty. You don’t even have to try.” 

“I try really hard, actually.” 

“You don’t have to. Not with me.” He pressed the button to the elevator button and let her step in first when the doors opened. “Do you know how amazing you look tonight, or should I go ahead and tell you?” 

Her face contorted as she fought back another smile. “You should probably go ahead and tell me.” 

“Ah, okay,” He grinned, putting a finger beneath her chin and looking straight into her eyes. “Gianna Cruz, you look so unbelievably good tonight. I cannot believe I get to call you my date.” 

The smile broke through, her face warming under his touch and attention. Just as the proximity started to cloud their minds, the elevator doors slid open. Bucky offered his left arm to her, the flowers still held in his right. Wrapping her hand around his bicep, she felt the cool metal through his long sleeve. They crossed the lobby and stepped out into the cool evening air. The sun was beginning to set, casting a golden glow across the entire compound. 

It was suspiciously empty on the grounds, but that was the last thing on Gianna’s mind. The path before them was sprinkled with rose petals, illuminated by single floating candles spaced every few feet along the way. Looking up, she saw that it followed the oh-so-familiar walk down to the dock. 

Wordlessly, she looked up at Bucky, her face showing a kind of happy he’d never seen before. She still fought back the full smile, so much so that her cheeks ached. They walked down to the lake in comfortable silence as Gianna took in every bit of the scenery and Bucky took in every bit of her reaction. The trail took a short curve through the thick woods before opening up to the clearing where the dock began. It made for a more private setting, mostly shielding it from the rest of the compound. Tonight, the element of surprise was exactly what Bucky had been counting on to help with the final reveal. 

They turned the final corner, warm sun hitting their faces as the trees cleared. 

“Bucky,” Gianna breathed, eyes widening. 

“Come on.” He slid his hand down to hers and led her to the end of the dock. There was a table with two chairs, complete with candles, wine, and full dinner setting. 

Gianna could hardly believe the moment she was living in. Mouth slightly open in awe, she didn’t even know where to look as they reached the end of the dock. Bucky pulled the chair out for her to sit. 

“I don’t even…Bucky, I…” She looked from the table to the sunset and back to him. “I don’t even know what to say. You did all this? How did you -” 

“I had a little help.” He half-smiled, pouring wine into both glasses. “After the first few days here, you kept saying how much you liked the lake. I knew you came down here as much as you could. I told Wanda what I had in mind and she found all this stuff, had it shipped to the tower. They brought it with them when they flew in a few days ago.”

“But, we just made this plan last night…?” She felt at a loss for words in the best way. 

“I know. I thought I was going to have to hide 500 candles in my closet until I finally got the balls to ask you out.” 

Gianna grinned. “I’m glad you got the balls sooner rather than later.”

“Me too.” Bucky passed her a wine glass. “To you never realizing how far out of my league you are.” 

She raised her glass to his. “To you, having the balls to ask me out.” Their glasses clinked together and they both took a slow sip of wine, neither one breaking eye contact until the glasses were back on the table. 

A low hum filled the air. Looking up, Gianna saw a midsize drone hovering across the lake, carrying silver serving platters. 

“I didn’t know there was room service at the Avengers’ Compound.” She raised an eyebrow. 

“There is if one of the programming agents in the robotics division is afraid of you.” He shrugged. 

“Ah, I’ll keep that in mind next time I go to intimidate a SHIELD agent.” She laughed, faltering when she remembered the run in from earlier. “Bucky…about earlier.” Her eyes were wide, equal parts embarrassed and amused. 

“Mhmm?” He took the dishes from the drone and set one in front of each of them, lifting the lids off to reveal the most incredible looking pasta Gianna had ever seen. 

“Oh, my God…this looks insane. Bucky! How did you do this! Last time I checked, the cafeteria doesn’t serve gourmet food.” It smelled heavenly. 

“Tony’s here for the next week, he usually flies his chef out when he’s here for too long. I just asked for a couple extra servings.” He tried to hide his grin, seem casual, but her excitement was contagious. 

“I can’t even think straight.” She took a sip of her wine. 

“I hope that’s a good thing. It’s been a while since I last went on a date, so I’m a little out of practice.” 

“It’s a good thing.” Gianna leaned forward, resting her chin on her hands. “A very, very good thing.” 

As the sun slowly sunk below the horizon, dinner conversation flowed effortlessly. Bucky told stories from the past few years as an Avenger, including how Peter’s first words to him were about how cool his metal arm was - during a fight, no less. Gianna gushed about all the situations she’d been stuck in throughout her stardom where she wished she had someone to share it with, someone who saw it all and could laugh about it on the drive back to the hotel every night. It was easy. It was natural. 

Laughed lulled as Bucky finished a story about how Tony had once gotten way too drunk at a party and announced to the entire crowd he’d peed in the Iron Man suit. 

“Oh my gosh, ow.” Gianna leaned back in her chair. “My stomach hurts. I laughed too much. I definitely ate too much.” 

“There’s no such thing.” Bucky leaned forward, splitting the last of the wine between their glasses. 

“Mm, yet another reason I like you.” She winked, raising her glass towards him before taking a sip. 

“So,” Bucky grinned. “How am I doing?”

“Are you seriously asking for feedback in the middle of our date?” Gianna giggled.

“Hey, like I said, it’s been awhile. I just want to make sure I’m on the right track.” He put his hands up defensively. “Plus, Wanda may or may not have shown me photos of your last few dates. Tough acts to follow.” 

Rolling her eyes, Gianna set her glass down. “Which photos did you see?” 

“Helicopter ride with that football player?” 

“We were paid by the helicopter company. We’d only spoken twice before that and once after.”

“Dinner on a yacht with that actor?” 

“Horrible. He only talked about himself. I’m also pretty sure he thought I was someone else. He told me I was shorter than he expected and then asked me if I was allowed to eat dessert since the Victoria’s Secret Fashion Show was coming up.” Gianna groaned. “I thought it was a really weird thing to say, but when I thought about it later I realized he definitely didn’t think I was me.” 

“His loss.” Bucky gave her a half-smile. “Okay, last one…what about the guy who rented that restaurant out for you? Didn’t you…weren’t you pretty serious?” 

“No.” She smiled, but it was somber. “That was a PR stunt. He had a big movie coming out, they used two of my songs on the soundtrack, it was supposed to be big for both of our careers. And it was, I guess. It’s just, sometimes it can be hard to pretend without forgetting what’s real and what’s work. It gets messy.”

Bucky watched her, spinning the stem of his wine glass between metal fingers. 

“It was also a long time ago.” Gianna continued, giving a reassuring look. “I was very young. I didn’t really know how things were done in the industry and that made me vulnerable. That’s why I haven’t really dated over the past couple years…I wanted something real.” 

She reached her hand across the table, replacing the wine glass in his grip.

“I still do.” 

“I’d assure you that this is real, but truth be told, I’m still waiting for someone to pinch me.” Bucky squeezed her hand ever so lightly. If she ever felt strangely about his vibranium hand, she never showed it. 

She met his eyes, relaxing in his gaze. “You and your lines, Sargeant.” 

He stood to his feet, still holding her hand. “Is it too old-fashioned if I ask you to dance?” 

“Maybe,” Gianna slid out of her chair, letting him guide her to the center of the dock. “But that doesn’t mean I want you to stop.” 

The soft music that had been playing throughout dinner was paired with the quiet creaking of the dock and the crickets as they swayed slowly. 

_________________________________________

“Shh!” Wanda hissed. “You know sounds carry across water!”

Peter shut up and retreated to the back of the balcony. The group had gathered on the patio, claiming to want fresh air after dinner, but secretly all hoping to catch a glimpse of the date they’d all helped facilitate. 

“See anything, Rogers?” Natasha called, taking a sip of her drink. 

“I told you, I don’t condone spying.” He looked up from his chair. “They’re dancing.” 

Grinning, Nat stood to her feet and walked to the railing where Wanda and Sam stood. 

“You think they’d notice if I sent Red Wing over there? I could get us some live footage.”

“Sam, if you give Bucky any excuse to rip that thing out of the sky, he’s not going to hesitate.” Steve reluctantly joined them, thankful the dock was far enough away that it took super soldier vision to really see what was going on. 

“They’re hopeless.” Wanda said. “So in love.” 

“Are you saying that as a mind-reader?” Peter asked, wide-eyed. 

“I’m saying that as someone who talked to them both today.” She rolled her eyes. “And as someone with eyes.” 

“Okay, alright. Let’s give them some privacy. If you want to watch someone on a date then put on that trashy show you’re always watching.” Steve ushered them inside. 

“Steve, you know the Bachelor is only on Monday night.” Sam elbowed him, walking through the door. “What, a man can’t enjoy quality reality television?!”

When he was the only one remaining on the balcony, Steve took one last glance down at the dock just in time to see Bucky raise Gianna’s hand and spin her around. Grinning, he stepped inside and shut the door. 

[yanderu-deredere]

drawn.

★ they've just been so lonely, all by themselves in this abandoned little factory town. it's hard not to be attracted to someone so wonderful, so glittering and beautiful, someone like you

a/n: sorry i ended up not posting anything the past few days. ive been really struggling with chronic pain flare ups and general bullshit but you guys really encouraged me to come back! so here i am with the latest chapter of the cannibals!

minor changes with part three where i made it so that none of the friends come down to dinner hehehe wonder why? neway, you can go back and reread that if you'd like but it's not that big of a change.

finally, after teasing it for so long, it's the gore chapter ive been waiting for forever to write! with that said, please mind the warnings!

i feel like this got really long so i didn't really do as much as i wanted to... you'll see when u finish reading. if you think i should keep going, send a couple asks and maybe i'll write another extra chapter?

part one (hook.) ★ part two (line.) ★ part three (sink.) ★ extra (captive.) ★ part four (here) ★ part five (quartered.)

pairing: casimir fiala x reader x emmaline fiala word count: 3612

warning: gender neutral reader, mentions of throat knife violence, mentions of coroner's and mortician's equipment, descriptive head injuries, descriptive eye violence and gore, mentions of drugging someone nonconsensually, mentions of medical and recreational drug use

Casimir knew as soon as the white van pulled up into the factory town that his entire life would be completely turned around, that this group of rule breaking idiots would be different from the usual.

When he saw your cute little face peek out of the window, he knew exactly why.

Casimir always believed himself to be a man of science and he had explained away his fascination (or rather, attraction) to Emm by just acknowledging that the two of them were polar opposites and evolution simply made it so that human beings were attracted to their polar opposites.

Opposites attracted simply because it gave their offspring better survival chances.

But then, of course, you threw a wrench in all of that, didn't you? Because he knew nothing about you except that your entire face made his heart palpitate in his chest for no reason.

He didn't even know if your personality was good with his or if you would even irritate him with your small habits. But, still, he found his eyes attracted to you like a magnet to metal and he wanted more.

Emm felt exactly the same. Unlike Casimir, she believed in love at first sight. It's what she felt when she met Casimir after all.

She knew as soon as she saw the man that she wanted to ravish him and she knew as soon as she saw you that she wanted to ravish you too.

She loved Casimir; the two of them have been together for years now. The only reason they were able to enjoy those years together was because Emm followed those instincts of hers.

Emm wasn't going to let Casimir use his science mumbo-jumbo talk to get her out of keeping you.

Thankfully, the two of them were on the same page. They didn't even have to communicate verbally. They shared a look; Casimir from the road and Emm from her binoculars.

So, despite the rules that they'd agreed on (not to kill the people who weren't breaking the rules, to try and stay inconspicuous, to be polite and nice just in case), Casimir couldn't find it in himself to stop Emm from using a silenced gun and popping your friend's tire.

The both of them only felt more and more justified the longer they spent time with your friends.

They pretended to be polite but whispered about how weird Casimir was. They tried to take photos of Emm's burns (and you were the angel that prevented them from doing it). They even went so far as calling you a freak.

It made both of their blood boil. Emm's more than Casimir's but Casimir's head had always been more level headed.

So, really, the group dug their own graves.

The first one that had to go was that damn bimbo.

Casimir didn't like her at all. Chloe was it? She just didn't look at Emm the right way and don't even get him started on the whole 'taking a photo of Emm' business again.

Plus, she kept sneering at you and whispering about how stupid you were to her boyfriend.

So, when you went upstairs to go change right before helping Casimir out with cooking dinner, he went to work.

"Hey, by the way, you guys wouldn't mind it if Emm smoked a couple of joints, would you?" He mentioned off-handedly to the bimbo as he sharpened one of the knives at the kitchen counter.

His sleeves were pulled up to his elbows, his muscles flexing as he clenched and unclenched his fists, trying not to get annoyed.

It was odd since both he and Emm usually didn't let them last this long but, he supposed, for your sake, he would put up with the disrespect.

It just really got at his nerves that she was treating the entire place like it was hers, looking into their fridge like she owned the place. They said 'make yourselves at home' but that wasn't exactly what they meant.

The ditzy blonde didn't even have the decency to hide her emotions when she looked at him, all wide-eyed with wonder "Oh? You guys smoke?"

"Yeah, some strong medical stuff." Casimir shrugged as he kept his eyes on the smooth metal of the knife and the rough grey of the whetstone, his knuckles turning white as he gripped it harder and harder "You know, because of--"

"Oh, of that whole--" She finished for him, making a gagging sound from the back of her throat.

It took everything in him not to just run the knife in his hand through her face.

He could imagine how satisfying it would be. It would meet some resistance when going through her nasal cavity but the crunch of it as it met bone would feel so good.

Before he completely lost it, though, the sound of the other three idiots in the living room convinced him fully that he needed to keep it together.

This needed to be their cleanest kill yet.

Not just because the four of them were a big group but also because they needed to get away with killing three of them without letting you know.

"Yes, she smokes all of it downstairs in the basement." He nodded his head towards the main hall and he watched her face turn blank, her eyes obviously confused.

She definitely looked like she was turning an idea carefully in her head. Casimir wished she'd hurry it up since she still had the fridge open and it was using up electricity.

Then, as if he could literally see the lightbulb above her head, he saw her expression brighten. She closed the door and gave him a bright smile that grated even harder on his nerves before flouncing away.

Casimir glanced at the knife in his hands, giving her a few seconds, before rinsing it off and wiping it with a dish towel hanging on the oven handle.

Then, he sheathed the knife, grabbed a meat tenderizer, slipped it into his pocket and unfurled his sleeves. Of course, the other idiots paid him no mind. Probably just like they paid their friend no mind as she slipped past them.

They looked deep into a conversation about something, all their backs turned towards the main hallway.

The realistion that hit the bimbo was probably the fact that there was a door at the very end of the main hallway. Normally, people mistook it for a cupboard under the stairs.

Casimir could at least give her credit for being smart enough to realise that it was most likely the steps to the basement he had been talking about only seconds ago.

He quietly followed her down, locking the door behind him just in case.

Casimir was nothing if not careful.

He would've paid big bucks to have seen the look on her face when she reached the bottom of the stairs.

He saw the way her steps faltered (he was right behind her, after all) so he knew she must've been surprised. Plus, she gasped too, which seemed a bit much but she also seemed like the type to overdramatise.

It probably surprised her to see that it wasn't a wine cellar or a man cave in their basement but a clean and proper butcher's dream.

It was Casimir's hard work after all. Emm helped a little but she was a bit too messy to really take care of a lot of the detailed work. Instead, she helped weld things together and fix some things up.

Before the bimbo could turn around or freak out, of course, Casimir shut her up.

She crumpled like soggy paper when the meat tenderizer hit the back of her head.

The crack of it was so satisfying, honestly. The splatter of blood was less so but it still felt good to see the crater of gore in the back of that bitch's head.

Surprisingly, he could see a brain in there.

As he watched her crawl on her hands and knees, trying desperately to get away, Casimir tested the hammer in his hand and frowned.

He wasn't usually one to use such bulky tools. Though the sound of it was music to his ears, the feel of it wasn't right. It really was better to stick to knives and the like. Leave the more brutalizing ones to Emm.

Before the little worm could get too far, he stepped forward, accidentally stepping on her ankle as he scooped her up, his arm wrapping around her torso and his free hand gripping her chin, his fingers digging into her cheeks.

He lifted her easily enough, despite the fact that she was so top heavy.

Unfortunately, he wouldn't get a lot of breast meat from this one since it was probably all plastic but he'd need to get rid of her regardless.

"Now, what are you doing here?" He whispered against her temple, relishing a little bit in the way she struggled against him, her well manicured nails trying to claw at his clothed sleeves.

She was barely making sense before he'd whacked her with the meat tenderizer but, now, her voice was slurred and stuttering beyond recognition.

She was concussed then. He would've been more surprised if she hadn't become concussed. In fact, he had to give her credit. That blow would've knocked most normal people unconscious.

Maybe she was particularly hard-headed?

In any case, her blabbering was entertaining at first but then it eventually got too annoying.

With barely any care at all and completely ignoring the way her feet dragged on the cold concrete, Casimir brought her over to his special autopsy table and plopped her down.

It was his own invention; not exactly his life's work but certainly one if his more brilliant ideas.

It wasn't entirely made from scratch, of course. He built it off of a second-hand autopsy table but he made it tilt one way so that the blood would pool better. He liked collecting it in case he wanted to use it for blood sausage or something.

He also added some restraints for the really shitty visitors that really pissed them off. Sometimes, the couple really liked to take their time with their kills, really carve them up, slice and dice them and hear them scream--

Plus, sometimes, Emm liked putting him in there too and he could be a little too wiggly for her tastes.

In any case, when he slammed her down on the cold metal table, Casimir couldn't say he was taking the usual care with her.

She was sprawled across the cold metal, her body locked into the restraints with a little distain, even his initial incision of her jugular was sloppy at best.

He didn't have any respect for people like her who couldn't even take care of people like you. You had trusted her with your friendship and she betrayed you. She didn't deserve any kindness from him.

She couldn't complain anyway.

Mostly because she was finally knocked out cold.

Anyway, Casimir left her down there. If she bled to death, good for her. If she were still alive when he got back down there?

Well, he wouldn't enjoy her screams in the usual way but he'd definitely get some sort of sadistic glee out of them.

He'd flay her skin open, watch her muscles twitch as she struggled to move away, see the life ebb out of her; he'd make sure that every single thing you'd suffered through, she'd feel but a hundred times worse.

Hopefully, enough, she'd be alive.

Before he left, of course, he had to wash the stupid meat tenderizer. Surprisingly enough, fragments of her skull stuck to the spikes of it and chunks of her scalp clung to the metal.

Then, he obsessively cleaned the blood splatter off the walls, taking care to wash himself and any wash cloths he used with the sink in the room.

It was easy enough to wash everything since the entire basement was made like an embalming room; the floor sloped slightly to the middle where there was a drain.

Lastly, he changed his clothes because he got a little messy in his anger-- No, irritation. He didn't want to accredit such a strong emotion to such an insignificant ant.

He and Emm kept spare clothes down in the basement just for situations like this.

Honestly, the entire thing was so easy that it disappointed Casimir. He had hoped the blonde idiot would've struggled a little bit more, at the very least.

Maybe the others would prove to be a challenge.

Speaking of the others, Casimir knew that the boyfriend would notice the fact that his girlfriend was missing the fastest.

Unless, of course, he was a piece of shit too.

So, Casimir's next objective was to get rid of him.

The very last thing he did before he left the basement was he grabbed a little baggy of weed. It was a specific one they used to drug some of their more troublesome victims.

Seeing as his girlfriend was interested, it was possible that the boyfriend would've been interested too.

The drug wasn't anything deadly. Just something to help them get a... better high. Which didn't just distract them but it also affected their short-term memory and their attention span.

Casimir just had to make sure that he mentioned where his girlfriend could be before the dumb idiot started smoking the stuff.

Finally, when Casimir emerged from the basement, he was met with the boyfriend. He kept saying 'the boyfriend' in his head but, truly, it was because he didn't recall what his name was. Dick? Rick? Something along those lines.

Casimir would mentally refer to him as Dick just because that's what the guy was.

Hell, even the one thing Casimir knew him for (being that bimbo's boyfriend) he couldn't do properly.

When the ditz wasn't paying attention, Dick? complained about how annoying his girlfriend was, about how much of a drag she was, how he was tired of her.

It was a surprise to Casimir since he had pretty much been singing her sonnets since he first met them when she was around to hear his compliments.

Though, it made sense when Casimir noticed the sleeze bag's eyes always seemed to be glued to her chest.

It just showed how two faced this entire group was, Casimir supposed.

"Hey, did you see where Chloe went?" Dick? asked, looking suspiciously at the door behind Casimir and then suspiciously at Casimir himself.

Casimir doubted it was because the idiot thought he killed his girlfriend, though. The man didn't look that smart.

"She mentioned she had a migraine? I think she might have gone to her room." Casimir looked towards the stairs before glancing to the front door "Or maybe she went outside for some fresh air? I don't exactly recall what she said."

The boyfriend clicked his tongue but, before he could leave, Casimir placed a hand on his forearm "By the way, she mentioned she takes medical marijuana for her migraines so I mentioned to her that my wife took some too, for her burns?"

When the guy turned back to look at Casimir, arrogant confused expression on his face, it took everything in Casimir not knock the living daylights out of the guy.

He bet he could make the same crater in this guy's head as he did in this guy's girlfriend's head with just his fist.

"She ran out and asked me for some. Emm had some extra so I figured--" Casimir shrugged and then held up the little baggy with the drugged weed "She told me to ask you to pay for it but, between you and me, it's honestly fine."

"My wife goes through so much pain, I can't even imagine--" Before Casimir could finish, the idiot snatched the baggy up and nodded quickly, that confused expression completely taken over by his arrogance.

"Of course! I'll make sure to get it to her!" Dick-head looked like it took everything in him not to cackle at Casimir.

And it took even more in Casimir not to choke the man.

Before he could be further tempted, Casimir just gave a curt nod and left for the kitchen.

He rolled his sleeves up and went to get ready for you to come downstairs.

It was a shame you had a change of clothes. He had an odd highly illogical fantasy of you borrowing clothes from them, maybe something of Emm's or of his, and then decending down the stairs.

He could imagine you, looking so breathtakingly theirs.

It didn't make sense to Casimir but he supposed his love for you didn't make any sense in the first place either. He would just have to keep you by his side and study you.

"Did you go shopping?" Emm suddenly appeared at his side as he got out cling-wrapped meat from the freezer above the refrigerator, her arm brushing against his waist.

Did you deal with one of them?

She was probably asking because she passed by the living room and noticed that there were only three of them.

"Yes, I did. But that meat is for next week." He pressed a kiss to her cheek, smirk playing on his lips as he closed the freezer door and opened the fridge "We're having the meat I bought last week. It will go bad if we don't have it now."

Yes, she's downstairs. I haven't cut her up into pieces yet. We're having that couple we killed from last week, the ones that tried to break into the factory to steal spare parts.

"You wan' me to take care of next weeks shopping since you've taken care of this weeks?" Emm tried not to grin too widely, excited by the victims that her husband had left for her.

"I mean, I have plans for next weeks shopping but, if the opportunity arises..." Casimir sighed like he was tired of the way Emm always seemed to go off script but, in reality, he was glad she always seemed to enjoy herself.

It was evident by the way that smirk on his face didn't even waver.

"I dun' know what I'd do without such a dedicated house-husband." Emm teased, mirroring Casimir's smirk as she cupped the side of his face and pressed her own kiss against his temple.

Casimir took the ingredients out one by one, bundling them into his arms "And dessert?"

The fourth one. The one best saved for last. That was, of course, you.

"We def'nitely have room for dessert." Emm pulled back enough to look Casimir in the eye and he knew that, from the expression on her face, she would take no arguments.

We're keeping them.

Casimir didn't want to argue with that. From looking at his face, Emm saw that.

"Good because dessert is the caramel flan I made last night." Casimir chuckled almost breathily as he finally pushed away from his wife and brought the food to the kitchen counter.

That one wasn't code at all but an honest fact. It took everything in Casimir to convince Emm not to scarf the six tins he made last night in one sitting.

"I'll jus' go move my bike into the garage." Emm sighed, her expression morphing to one of boredom as she stretched a little.

She didn't like the idea of having to go out into the rain but, if she left the bike just parked there, there was a possibility that it would rust.

It was just hard to go outside, to leave the house really, when you were inside, so close yet so far away. Emm had never felt so pained and lazy before until you.

Then, to make matters worse, while Casimir was getting the ingredients ready for dinner and Emm was putting on her work boots, that stupid boyfriend tried his moves on her.

Unfortunately, he didn't seem high at all.

Had he not smoked it yet? Casimir hadn't smelt anything so, perhaps, he was saving it for later?

Either way, it was stupid to flirt with Emm right there, where Casimir could obviously see them. Normally, Casimir would've lost it but he needed the night to be perfect so he figured he'd let Emm handle it.

"You goin' somewhere, gorgeous?" The idiot leaned against the wall, sleezy expression on his face as he eyed her up and down.

Emm tried her best not to sigh too loudly or even groan like she wanted to. Instead, she tied her boots and smiled politely at him "Yeah, jus' need't park my bike in the garage."

"Oh, you know, I know a lot about motorcycles." The guy didn't even wait to hear what Emm would say before he was putting his shoes on "Let me go with you."

At first, Emm's fist clenched and she felt her entire body tense. But then, she realised how good of an opportunity it was. She'd be able to get him alone.

So, she forced another smile onto her face as she nodded "Sure!"

"You know, my dad owns like five Harleys." He bragged as he stepped out of the house, that same smug look on his face as he walked with his hands in his pockets.

Emm wanted so badly to trip him into a puddle but, instead, she crossed her arms under her breasts and nodded, trying her best to look interested "Oh, I have a Harley in the garage."

"D-Do you?" The pervert didn't even disguise his staring "Why don't you show me that first? I can help you with your motorbike after."

Moron.

"Sure." Emm lead the way through a side door, letting them into the garage without triggering the loud garage door.

It was dark and, even when Emm pulled the string for the florescent lights, the entire room was still dimly lit.

The garage was kind of Emm's domain but she wasn't exactly proud of it. After all, though she could be a real genius when putting parts together, organisation wasn't her specialty.

Casimir had to come down every month or so and fix the place up for her. Even then, the entire place always ended up looking like a tornado went through in a week.

Basically, the clean look never lasted.

"Damn, you should tell your husband to clean up in here." The moron laughed as he stepped over some steel bars.

Emm tried not to cringe "Oh, Cas don't really come in here. The mess's mine."

"Yours?" He said, as if saying 'but you're a girl' and it wasn't the last straw for Emm but it was damn close to it.

She looked around, trying to see if there was anything fun to kill this guy with or if she'd have to go old fashioned and just fuck his head up with a wrench.

She knew she couldn't make too much noise, though, so no chainsaw or anything too fun. Even if splattering his guts everywhere would've been worth the clean-up.

"Sure, let's go with that then." The guy laughed one more time before caging Emm against one of the various shelves in the garage, his disgusting breath damp and putrid against her ear

Emm couldn't take it anymore. She grasped at something with her hand; it was smooth against her palm, dusty, something with metal and plastic.

Her arm was swinging before her brain could even connect the dots as to what it was.

The guy fell onto his back, screaming profanities as he clutched one of his eyes "You fucking bitch!"

Emm just straddled his chest, that grin she'd been suppressing for so long finally stretching out onto her face.

She looked down at her hand and noticed that she had grabbed a spare motorcycle headlight.

When she had swung, the entire thing had been a blur so she hadn't really seen what she had done to him. Even now, she couldn't see because he was covering it.

But the screw end of the motorcycle headlight was covered in blood and the ripped apart flesh of an eyeball. She could make out the veins against the whites, the chunks of it clinging to the grooves of the metal part.

It filled her with a rush to know that she'd jammed the entire thing in there in one try.

To prevent him from screaming any more, she grabbed his wrist and stuffed it into his mouth, essentially making him pretty much choke on his own flesh. Then, she saw a peek of it.

He was still trying to dig the heel of his palm there, as if putting it there would stop the bleeding. Which made sense, of course. But it definitely wouldn't make a difference.

In any case, when she had yanked his hand away, she saw that his eyeball was replaced with bloody indecipherable gore. There were torn parts of the whites of his eyes near the outsides but it didn't look like there was much of it.

She laughed and he continued to struggle, kicking and bucking, desperate to get her off.

"Oh, so you wan'o play with the bull but y'can't handle the horns?" Emm couldn't help but taunt him a little, relishing in the way his own teeth dug into his wrist as she pressed down on him harder.

Despite the fact that they were almost the same height, she was much stronger than him and holding him down wasn't even a contest.

Before long, though, the struggling and the gore started to bore her. She realised she'd gotten too messy and that she'd have to clean up before she could see you.

Which meant, of course, that it would take longer to go see you. Something that felt unacceptable in her eyes.

So, she bashed his face in with a motorcycle headlight. Over and over. Till his entire skull caved in. And the motorcycle headlight got crushed in her fist. Or till it got crushed against his skull?

Whichever one was stronger, she figured. Her palm would bruise but his head caved in so, she supposed, it was her fist?

It was unfortunate, really, but the anger had built up inside her and the way he had tried cheating on his girlfriend really rubbed Emm the wrong way.

It wasn't like they ever used the head or the brains for anything anyway.

Then, she wrapped his face with a towel she had lying around and she carried him to the basement using the back cellar doors.

If holding him down was pretty easy, this was a piece of cake. She just slung his arm around her shoulders and then wrapped her arm around his torso, holding him up entirely.

She would've fireman carried him but there wanted to stay as clean as possible so there was less clean up.

When she entered, Emm spotted his girlfriend and felt bad for her.

That feeling immediately vanished when Emm remembered how rude she was in the van, trying to take a picture of her like she was a freak or something.

The thing Emm really struggled with was putting him on the autopsy table. She always complained to Casimir about the things. She absolutely enjoyed the sausages he made and the soups too but it was so much work.

She had to put his upper body down first but, then, she did it wrong and accidentally hit his head against the edge. Not like he was still alive but it was still annoying.

Emm had to try again and then a third time. Finally, the third time worked but then she had to get his legs up which wasn't that much of a struggle but it was still time she wasn't spending upstairs!

Where the two loves of her life was!

To make matters worse, as she was doing that, the stupid bimbo woke up and started struggling and stuttering and freaking out. She was crying up a storm, begging and pleading for her life and her boyfriend's life.

Like his entire face wasn't caved in and bloody already?

Emm just left her be and went to go wash her own face, hide the idiots' things, lock one of the guest doors and change her own clothes again.

Hopefully, the bimbo would just tire herself and bleed out.

"You okay, my love?" Casimir cupped her cheeks, pressing their foreheads together.

Emm just sighed and rolled her eye before nodding her head "Jus'... wanted to ask you 'bout somethin'."

Casimir smirked at that and pressed a kiss to Emm's lips before continuing what he was doing with prepping ingredients "What is it, my love?"

"I d'no if I was p'ck'n up what you were puttin' down before." Emm crossed her arms and leaned her back against the kitchen counter "But you... you think they're real pr'tty too, right?"

Casimir felt his ears get just a little bit hot but, of course, he quickly nodded because he never hid anything from his wife "We'd of course have to get rid of the nuisances but..."

Emm quickly nodded and hugged Casimir from behind, pressing a kiss to the back of his ear "I love 'em so much and I don' know why but I just--"

"I know, dear, calm down." Casimir laughed a bit breathily, trying to keep an understanding expression on his face as he smiled at his rather nervous and bashful wife.

The two of them had been with each other long enough that they could have discreet conversations without having other people know about what they were truly talking about.

For Emm to outright ask him these questions, she must've been really concerned about this. So, of course, he wanted to reassure her as best as he could.

"I'm very interested in them as well. Don't worry." He sliced into the middle of a bell pepper with precision, his ears feeling a little hot from his confession.

Casimir wasn't the best at confessing his feelings but, still, he wanted to make his intentions clear to his wife so she wouldn't be so insecure.

"Y'think they'd go for it?" Emm bit her lip a little, frown gracing her lips as she tightened her hold on her husband "Go f'r me?"

"My dear, you are a mighty fine specimen of a woman. If they don't go for you, well..." Casimir thought on the plethora of drugs he had in the basement and smiled, his finger tracing the silver sheen of the knife in his hand "I have a plan for that."

"You an' your plans." Emm huffed, her breath ruffling Casimir's locks a little bit.

Casimir just laughed again, all airy and soft, before shrugging her off and returning to slicing and dicing the peppers for the steak dinner he was making "Why don't you go and fix the garage? I know you were in a hurry and you didn't clean up after yourself."

Emm groaned, burying her face into her husband's neck. He reached behind her and, for a second, she thought he'd comfort her somehow. Instead, he thread his fingers into his hair and gave a hard yank, pulling her head up so that her ear was right next to his lips.

"You know how I feel about messes right, my dear?" Emm couldn't properly see Casimir's expression but she could imagine what it was: that wide sadistic smirk he always had when people tested him or when something interested him a bit too much

So, she huffed and rolled her eyes "Fine, fine."

Casimir let go easily enough and she unravelled her arms from around his torso, pulling away from him but not before pressing a kiss against his cheek.

She'd go clean up as fast as she could and then, maybe, she'd go join you and Casimir in preparing dinner.

Casimir watched as Emm left to go deal with her mess, a fond smile on his face.

Unfortunately, the peace was interrupted when he was shoved from the side by that one guy who loved tormenting you.

He remembered this guy's name purely because he hated him so much: Bran. Like the cereal. What an idiot.

Casimir had heard the footsteps so he hadn't been surprised by the shove but he hadn't exactly braced himself either so, when he was pushed against the counter, the knife clattered out of his hand.

It didn't matter. If needed, Casimir had other things he could kill this douche bag with.

Hopefully, he wouldn't have to. Casimir was hoping to bleed this one out and torture him slowly.

Casimir and Emm both noticed the way Bran had stared after you, looking at you like you were an object to be lusted after, like you belonged to Bran, all while he already had a girlfriend.

It definitely disgusted Casimir and he knew that cheating was a sore subject for Emm.

"The fuck are you two talking about?" Bran tried to sound as menacing as possible.

"Nothing." Casimir just smirked as he turned to face the asshole, hoping this man would give him any reason at all to humiliate him "Can I help you?"

"I'm fucking on to you." Bran spat out which, of course, made Casimir feel especially disgusted. "You and your fucking freak wife."

Casimir felt a little bit of his sanity snap when Bran said that specific phrase but he knew he had to hold back "On to me about what exactly?"

"I don't know." The question made Bran back off and the admission made Casimir smirk mockingly at him.

Bran looked like he was about to punch Casimir in the face but, before he could, Casimir took him by the wrist and straightened himself so that he was easily taller than Bran.

"We have helped you, we have sheltered you and we are now about to feed you. I will not have you disrespect me in my own home." Casimir smirked from ear to ear, his eyes boring into Bran's "So, tell me what your problem is with your words, like an adult, or get the hell out of my face."

Casimir could at least give credit to the man: he was fearless. Bran didn't back down. "They're mine."

"Your girlfriend?" Casimir played innocent, all the while his grip on Bran's wrist tightened to the point of being unbearable.

He could see it in Bran's face; the man was wincing and flinching away but the feeble tugs he tried to make were no match for Casimir's grasp.

Still, stubbornly, Bran continued "You know who I'm talking about."

Casimir finally let go "I am quite sure I do not. In any case, neither my wife nor I have any interest in your girlfriend."

"Where is she anyway?" Casimir added, dusting himself off and wiping Bran's spittle off of his skin.

"She's high right now so she's in Chloe and Dirk's room." Bran growled, still as aggressive as before but unable to make a move against Casimir since he was cradling his wrist "Once Chloe and Dirk get back, we're fucking out of here."

"Have fun driving with three wheels." Casimir just turned back to the food, not at all worried about the idiot behind him.

Oh, but Casimir definitely stored this entire event in his mind, knowing for a fact that he'd get his revenge later.

Bran didn't respond but he could hear the moron's thumping steps as he ran up the stairs and slammed one of the doors.

After your dinner with the two them, Casimir watched as you excused yourself and went outside.

Emm looked worried but Casimir didn't have a single doubt in his mind. His plans were absolute and he wouldn't let you escape. He had planned for every single eventuality and he would make sure you were theirs.

"Wait a few minutes before going after her." He said instead, pressing a kiss against her forehead as he started putting the dishes away.

"What about you?" She glanced at him warily.

Casimir simply picked up one of the sheathed knives with a bored expression on his face "I think the other two got high so I better just chloroform them and bring them downstairs."

Emm seemed satisfied by that because she grinned, laughing at Casimir's expression "What kind'a fucked up freaks are we that we get both'red when the killin's all borin'?"

Casimir just clipped the leather knife sheath to his belt loop and stepped towards his wife, kissing her chastely on the lips "Why, my dearest, the best kind, of course."

[grayintogreen]

ROSEVERSE OST VOLUME ONE

Contains the inspo tracks for the first three fics in Roseverse. Also has liner notes under the cut because I have to explain some of these.

One Good Reason- Eric Stuart Band This is basically the song that inspired the things you hold most dear may not survive another day and kinda remains the main theme for Huskerdust in this first part of the series.

The River Won’t Flow- Songs for a New World So some of the songs on this playlist are not necessarily here because they fit moments, but because in my undying dedication to canon accuracy as close as I can manage, there’s moments where I’m like “SONG GOES HERE.” And in lieu of writing my own (because I can’t), I just flailed around until I found a song that fit the “vibe.” In this instance, this specific vibe this song offers suits a song about Lucifer reacting to the suggestion of sealing his powers and how this will showcase his humility (while hinting that he is EXTREMELY HUMBLED BY EVERYTHING).

Nobody’s Side- Scott Coulter I have so many covers of “Nobody’s Side” and not a damn one of them really fit the vibe I wanted here, so I just dropped the least offensive option. In an ideal world, a technoswing version of “Nobody’s Side” would be sung when Husk confronts Alastor about being Angel’s bodyguard.

Brave Face- Delta Goodrem Just a cute little song for the Chaggie moment in Chapter One.

Lithium- Nirvana I was going through a playlist of songs with sick guitar riffs and just was like “Yeah, Adam in the middle of a rage depression playing Nirvana on his guitar is fully what I wanted from that scene.”

Comfort Eagle- Cake This is simultaneously the perfect song to be playing in the background for the Adam and the Vees confrontation, but also god I want a musical number between Adam and Vox that is basically Comfort Eagle But Broadway.

The Fool- Ryn Carver Angel and Husk’s conversation as they leave the hotel in Chapter Two.

Kiss Quick- Matt Nathanson More Huskerdust pining, but now they’re at the porn studio.

VBS- Lucy Dacus Vaggie and Lucifer’s conversation in Chapter Two.

A Good Man Is Hard To Find- Bessie Smith Alastor at the end of Chapter Two in Eve’s domain.

Bottom of the River- Delta Rae Alastor’s flashback.

Hell on Heels- Pistol Annies Meet Eve! She’s awful!

The Lamb- Dessa Husk and Alastor’s conversation in the radio tower.

The Judgment- Elvis Costello Husk stands up for Angel.

Don’t Say Yes Until I Finish Talking- Christian Borle and the cast of Smash Another one of the “I just want a song here and can’t write one.” This song is actually specifically invoked in the prose even. In an ideal world, a song with this exact rhythm and sentiment would be performed by Vox (and occasionally Val trying to get a word in edgewise) during the confrontation at the studio. Bonus points for being sung by Vox’s VA.

Doing the Best That I Can (Escape From Berlin)- Stevie Nicks Husk and Angel’s “not-a-date.”

You Are the Problem Here- First Aid Kit Eve and Adam at the end of Chapter Three

The Rhythm of Life- Sweet Charity ONCE MORE WITH FEELING. This song does not fit the moment, but it’s the specific energy I want from a Vaggie and Angel number about her training him to take charge in the escape room.

We Both Reached For the Gun- Chicago Honest to God, the Radio Duel between Lucifer and Alastor is supposed to be this, but I could not write it out in the way I wanted without being obnoxious, but trust me that is what it’s supposed to look like.

Secondary Characters- title of show Bonus track of Chance and Diana realizing they’re the main characters while Husk and Angel are trapped in the closet.

Work Your Way Out- Ani DiFranco If you want to give yourself heart palpitations, listen to this song while reading the scene of Husk and Angel in the closet. It’s great.

All For Believing- Missy Higgins More Husk and Angel pining at the end of Chapter Four.

Feeling Good- Nina Simone Casino Demon theme.

A Tisket, a Tasket- Ella Fitzgerald On the Sunny Side of the Street- Ted Lewis Wishing (Will Make It So)- Vera Lynn

These are the three songs playing when Husk visits Al in his room, chosen for specific reasons. The first is for dissonance since it’s a silly little song that starts us off on something that is meant to be intimidating and creepy. The second- also for dissonance- is a friendly, cheerful song to play over the tension of Husk and Al’s conversation. The final song is indicative of Husk’s mental state.

Shape of My Heart- Josh Groban, Leslie Odom, Jr. In my head the Huskerdust sex scene would turn into a more reserved fantasy as the two of them distance themselves from the fact that they are, you know, on camera by singing a duet. Honestly, this song works almost perfectly for it with the card motifs without having to just hold it up for vibes.

Gunning Down Romance- Savage Garden SONGS FOR HUSK RUINING EVERYTHING.

Two Evils- Bastille My DM once played me this song at a pivotal moment in the narrative we were running and it’s stayed with me ever since. It’s got the perfect ambiance for Alastor and Husk’s conversation at the diner.

This is Gonna Hurt- Sixx AM Angel in the limo at the end of Chapter Five.

End of the World News- Tom McRae I imagine this song playing over a montage of scenes at the top of Chapter Six in the aftermath of Angel’s defection.

Capital G- Nine Inch Nails Adam’s broadcast.

Don’t Scare Me Papa (Axeman’s Rag)- Squirrel Nut Zippers Song specifically invoked by Alastor because he’s a nerd.

Holding Out For a Hero- Bonnie Tyler SIEGE OF VEE TOWER LET’S GO.

Wreck- Mieka Pauley Eve at the end of Chapter Six.

Candleburn- Dishwalla Lucifer at the top of Chapter Seven. Everyone cry.

Someone to Fall Back On- Jason Robert Brown Husk and Angel, the morning after.

Eat Them Apples- Suzi Wu Jez, who is absolutely NOT Eve, even though her theme seems to have so much Eve related imagery. Cannot imagine that’s relevant.

bury a friend- Pomplamoose Alastor gets his shit dragged out in front of everyone and Charlie gets her feelings hurt. (Thanks Eve.)

Secret- Denmark + Winter Vaggie and the gang at the diner learning all the Unfortunate Things.

Sabbath Incantation- Thom Yorke Charlie and Jez and the seal.

Case of the Ex- Mya Eve’s ascension and Adam’s death.

Walk Through the Fire- BtVS Cast This is my “Charlie drags herself out of the ruins of her dream” song as the gang prepares to face Eve. Obviously it’s not beat for beat perfect, BUT IT’S THE VIBE.

Nothing Left to Lose- Jeremy Jordan, Eden Espinosa This on the other hand… Listen, I wrote that conversation between Lucifer and Eve with this song in mind. In my heart, it’s being sung between them in that moment, only with slightly different lyrics.

I Didn’t Know I’d Love You So Much- Repo! The Genetic Opera See above. Literally wrote Charlie and Lucifer after Lucifer gets STABBED with this song in mind.

No Return- Craig Wedron, Aanna Waronker EVE FIGHT TO THE TUNE OF THE TOXIC FEMININITY THEME.

Wings- Birdy Charlie’s ascension + the power of love.

Forget About the Blame (Moon Version)- Trans-Siberian Orchestra, Lzzy Hale Lilith returns.

Last Exit to Eden- Amanda Marshall Aftermath, which does include Alastor eating Eve so that’s fun.

You’ll Never Leave Harlan Alive- Kathy Mattea Six months later. I went through so many damn covers of this song for one that fit.

We’ll Meet Again- Vera Lynn And here we are in red, red roses and dead things. This is the Vera Lynn song Al plays for Charlie as he’s giving her the tour.

Weeping (w/ Ladysmith Black Mamba)- Josh Groban Lucifer trying to help and FAILING.

I Never Promised You a Rose Garden- Lynn Anderson Or “lyrical dissonance my beloved.”

Fingerbreaker- Jelly Roll Morton The Chicago Strut- Jelly Roll Morton, Gregory Hines, Keith David The two songs that Husk and Al perform while getting sloshed. I don’t think the second one has a sax in it at all but I’m Bad At Music. It does have Keith David though!

[showmey0urfangs]

Rating: M | Words: 4.0k | Chapters: 6/6 | Pairing: Loustat (background) | AO3

Summary: The night of ball

Excerpt:

The night of the ball, Claudia woke up to a hustle and bustle all over the house. From the confines of her coffin, she could hear muffled conversations, shouted orders, the clatter of furniture being dragged, the faint sound of the instruments being tuned at the back of the living room.

She got up and dressed quickly. Her heart was palpitating as she bounded down the stairs, knocking twice on the wood railing for good luck.

The house looked so splendid it was nearly unrecognizable. It was like she had stepped into a glimmering fairytale. In the living room, pedestal tables had been set up with four or six covers, and they sparkled with crystals, fine porcelain, and polished silver cutlery. Tall lush bouquets of white roses and gardenias had been placed on the tables and garlands of white bougainvillea and wisteria wrapped around the curtains and window sills, spreading their heady fragrance throughout the room.

Claudia quietly slipped past three waiters in white linen jackets who were busy arranging the chairs and setting up the food. She peeked into the dining room. The large table in the middle covered with delicate Venetian lace, was loaded with meats, sauces, caviar, oysters and other rare delicacies that she had never seen before, nestled on shiny silver platters. There was fruit, set into elaborate piles, and baked pastries, puddings and cakes. There were crystal champagne glasses, stacked in a precarious pyramid, empty for the time being. At the center of it all was the giant ice swan, glistening in the chandelier light.

Read the rest of the fic AO3

[seoafin]

imma be honest with you chapter four was probably my favorite chapter of anything ive ever read ever. you wrote magic that was sooooooo insane. i especially just loved how you wrote ripmc battling with her feelings over betraying or possibly ending such a long term friendship and relationship. the way she isolated herself and then tried sneaking around to not bump into geto…..oh lord it just made me salivate sadistically for when he would eventually pop up. and u fucking delivered truth be told i’m a gojo girlie through and through but when u write geto….u fucking write geto because holy. shit. your characterization of geto is probabaly my favorite thing i’ve seen ever. i’ve found good fics of before he dejected and after but never a middle ground of his best and worst characteristics all merged into one. you projected such distinct feelings when they were talking and geto closed the door…….i was scared horny nervous embarrassed ashamed like u do not understand i cried while he was going down on her😭😭 and the only reason why i can freely admit this is cause i’m on anon. it’s just like holy shit man your geto is soooo scary and hot😭 the way he had this certain jensequa this chapter like it felt like ripmc was exposed raw and he was looking through her. it felt like when you go up to tell a parent you ate from the cookie jar and they already know. it feels like he knows her better than she knows herself. “i kissed satoru” “i see” was so insane i was so nervous for ripmc cause it felt like such a vulnerable exchange like confessing to a priest all your darkest sins but he already knowns. it felt so intimate especially knowing that satoru and suguru share everything so he most likely already knew. it felt so. fucking. intimate. I CRIED especially cause suguru coming in and closeing the door the way you described that sequence alone was so claustrophobia inducing it was crazy my heart was beating out of my chest. and then the “How?” is sooooo hot don’t get me wrong the eating pussy scene was hot but everything that you wrote leading up to it and everything else he said during it and after. The. Dialogue👏🏻👏🏻 had me screaming. ur crazy. him pressing on your wound and asking if it was from satoru my pussy was having palpitations i thought i was gonna have to call 911. i think he wasn’t so against seeing that on ripmc i wonder what he would say to gojo wanting to get her a leash and collar🙈🙈🙈 he was so deliciously sweet and tender and so suffocating and intoxicating at the same time it cause my body to have a physical reaction like my heart ached made me wanna rip it from my chest and send it to you over mail!!! saying he wants to help you asking if anybodys been down there before knowing damn well he knows the answer he just wanted ripmc to say it. i hate him so much lord why isn’t he real. you know i read the first note where you left an obligatory geto warning and i was shocked cause i know u usually reserve those for gojo but holy fuck i had no idea how much of geto you would let him act out. bro had that dawg in him damn. the way you write him as the perfect balance of condecendingly sweet and tender and terrifyingly suffocating

while reading it felt like it was just you and geto and it made me understand how his ass started a cult. it’s funny considering gojo is the one with the six eyes and geto is the one i feel has such an insane ability to rip your safety blanket off and force such raw vulnerability from you. it’s cause i feel like he has such patience but when you fucked up you fucked up. it’s like the terror of disappointing a parent but you made it sexy? with gojo is more like he sees you and he understand you intimately but it’s also not like that matters much to him. because he wants what he wants. spoiled brat😭😭this is getting beyond creepy this paragraph is too long for me to seem even remotely normal but i must get this out!!! also geto in the end post munching asking you to tell him about your lil friend because he’s no longer insecure about the nature of your relationship he’s decided now and there’s no turning back woah……that was insanly hot and when ripmc asked him to get along and n u made his ass say “no i don’t think i will” i shit myself because not even gege could’ve come up with a most perfect geto response. like that sentence alone was SO SO geto it made me so sick like no i don’t think i will no i don’t think i will no i don’t think i will WITH A SMILE on his face you are soooo evil……i’m a gojo girlie why r u doing this to me😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 please i’m super sane don’t think i’m crazy off this message. also if it’s not too much trouble i don’t want this to come across as like i don’t appreciate the time you put into your stories or seem like i’m disregarding the fact that there’s a human being behind the screen and not fucking chat gpt and u deserve to rest!!! but i was wondering if u perhaps knew what turn the next chapter would take like the vibes for the next chapter?🙈🙈 AND IF U HAVENT EVEN BEGUN TO THINK ABOUT THEM THATS PERFECT TOO DONT EVEN WORRY im sorry im a child who grew up on old 2000s anime that after every episode would give u a preview for the next one i have so lil self preservation n patience😭😭😭😭 if not please ignore i even asked! i was also curious about when you mentioned geto spoiled gojo🙈🙈 in what way particularly cause i found that so interesting considering gojo is the richer of the too even tho geto is the most mature i would love to know what geto offered gojo that contributes as spoiling🤭🤭 that’s it i’ll take my leave it’s like 5 am and i just wanted to type this up before going to sleep! and ps congrats on that japan trip!!!!

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH god GODDDD i have so much to say so i'll put it under a read more

first of all THANK YOU FOR READING AND SENDING ME THIS it was such a pleasant amazing thing to wake up to i want to frame it and put it on my wall LOL but yes!!! this was probably one of my favorite chapters of this fic and one of the best things i've ever written for geto. okay ALSO ALSO let me just say that i love geto's duality so so so so so much. there's nothing better than a man who struggles between crazy delusion and sanity/moral responsibility and constraints/repression and to me geto is someone who embodies that. i think it's so fun trying to not only imagine geto in a world he didn't defect but characterize him. he is the jade that cracked too early!!!! he left before he could fully unlock his potential and we know from the kenjaku/yuki fight geto would've been an MENACE had he stayed (with gojo). i really think his two extremes and his potential make him soooo fascinating and trying to come up with ways to keep his grounded is just another great thing about writing this fic. i like to think he often reminds himself of ripmc's goodness and that makes him want to be a little bit better. if not for him but for her. he thinks about the kids the nice lady who owns the supermarket right in front of the kids' school and gives them free popsicles, the people who have thanked him for saving them, all the small things to remind himself it's worth it. like don't get me wrong i love his cringe girl failboss cult era too!!!!! but something about geto as the person he COULD'VE been. all his flaws and misgivings and condescension wrapped up into a less moral person still trying to do the right thing. still trying to undertake that responsibility despite it. AHHHHHH

i think the most interesting thing about writing that scene was writing it from ripmc's part. i definitely thought the audience was going to catch on pretty quick that gojo already told geto (why wouldn't he) and geto already knows. so basically you're reading from the POV of someone who is oblivious while ALSO knowing that geto probably already knows everything. i just think it adds an extra dimension to the scene and all of geto's dialogues and action. he was definitely hesitating on coming on too strongly and struggling with the morality of not letting ripmc experience things(tm) before taking everything. and obviously gojo doesn't understand it so gojo makes the decision for the both of them. there's no going back anymore!

SPOILERS FOR NEXT CHAP!

also to answer your questions!!!!! the next couple of chapters is like....the fall out of everything. but there's not really a fallout ripmc thinks the world is ending but it's just her LMAO they come to a resolution in the next 1-2 chapters and that's when their relationship kinda transforms into a fwb relationship because it's the only way ripmc can wrap her head around starting a sexual relationship with them. she actually agrees to it super quickly and gojo is like be fr rn WHAT. girlie needs to free herself from the prison of compartmentalizing everything! the next nsfw scene is gojo getting a blowjob and nearly blowing his load too early though i will say. if you thought geto's dialogue was crazy in this chapter just wait for that scene because that man is even more unfiltered than geto and more willing to say whatever it is on his mind. the two of them r truly menaces 😭😭😭😭😭

as for your second question i say geto spoils gojo by letting him get away with a little too much. geto is the one usually reigning gojo in but i do think geto is also somewhat emotionally indulgent with him at times. you know....gojo does or says something rude, he's being dismissive, he does a little more property damage than he should've. geto sighs gives him a kiss and lightly tells him not to do it again bc sometimes lecturing gojo gets kinda old. sometimes, it really isn't that big of a deal. which i think marks a very important turn or shift in geto's priorities as he gets older. less formed around morality more centered around gojo n ripmc n the kids....

once again AHHHHHH thank you for sending this in writing this fic has been the most arduous task of my ff writer era bc i've never written a multi chaptered fic before this but i am writing this for you and for every other person who has been reading/commenting!!!!!!

[xxpeppermintxx109]

Pep!!!! The latest chapter absolutely FLOORED me omg it was such a rollercoaster and gave me heart palpitations throughout. Loved how the sense of foreboding was there from the start (the way the "moon tea" was delivered? SUS.) and how you built up the suspense gradually before everything crashed and burned. I always cling onto every word in your chapters bc of how much attention you put into the details but doing that for this chapter almost had me puking blood (in a good way... or maybe not 😭) But either way I loved this chapter as much as I hated what happened; AND huge love for Rhaena, she's really Shaera's strongest warrior lol love that for her!! You've also successfully won me over bc now I believe the only place for Aegon is on all fours at Rhaenyra's feet worshipping her🧎‍♂️Also, something that has been nagging at me for a while- Shaera clearly has a lot of deep-seated insecurities (her parenthood, lack of a dragon, also her self-image) that go much deeper than her outward positivity and kindness. There always seems (to me) to be a darkness in Shaera despite how sweet she is, except it hasn't really festered yet. This has me jittery bc we haven't really seen her insecurities develop that much or be expressed tangibly so far, but I feel like they're gonna become much more prominent in this arc/when the dance starts?? Couple that with Shaemond probably being separated soon and I KNOW THE ANGST IS GONNA HIT HARD. I just want my babies to be happy :''( But I want you to know that I love you and your writing so much and I'll be waiting to read whatever comes next even if it means me ripping my hair out- uni's just started for me and this is the only thing keeping me sane fr <333 Take care and I hope your treatment's working better and that you're feeling much better now ❤️️

AHH THANK U FOR THE ASK AYA!! I didn’t wanna answer this too soon after the chapter released, but I think it’s been enough days hehe.

I’m so glad you enjoyed the chapter and the way I built the tension. It was a bit of a hard chapter to format but I’m glad I went with my gut feeling in the end! I love Rhaena so much, but I also love Baela just as much. Everyone always talks about Rhaena being a shaemond shooter (real of her tbh), but I think baela needs more love sometimes. She’s really just trying to look out for Shaera and I think people forget that in the context of their world and the situations of their families, Qoren is technically the safest choice!

Yes! There’s a darkness to Shaera that doesn’t get a whole lot of focus in her current life. It’s easy to shove it all down because it hasn’t had a need to resurface but I think that it’s certainly coming out and showing itself in different ways where it normally didn’t before. The dance is certainly going to force her to confront a lot of these issues in ways that might be difficult but it’s necessary for not only Shaera but everyone around her!

Uni just restarted for me as well, so I’m glad we’re in this together! Thank you for reading and supporting! It means the world to me and I hope this was a solid answer!! :)