#c:greta

[laikynparrish]

TO: @chefgretamorrison

LOCATION: Their home.

Lake had been on cloud nine for so long, that she almost forgot what this felt like. Almost. She could honestly say she didn't miss it, and that fact that it was the woman she deemed the love of her life making her feel this way was truly the cherry on top of a weird week. She sat with her legs crossed underneath her, one of the frilly throw pillows rested on her lap, as she mindlessly played with one of the white tessles that hung off it. Her attention was forward, her eyes never leaving the front door, as she stared; the last two hours had replayed in her head. Over, and over, and over again. 'I know you're mad at me, and I got kind of carried away the other day, but I think there's something you really need to see...' Her editor, Tim, who unbeknownst to him, would be her former just as soon as this book was done; said to her over the table at Lucile's dinner. She wasn't particularly in the mood for whatever he had for her, but whatever disdain she had for the man who was supposed to be her friend took a back seat when she looked down at a yellow envelope, and on top was a smaller white one that had her fiance's name scribbled across it. Confusion had laced her features, only for him to tell her to open them. What she'd find within both would've bought her lunch back up had she had any. A front and back love letter had been written to the woman she was supposed to be marrying, and underneath were pictures of her fiance and another woman at a restaurant. Both looking awfully too comfortable with one another. If it wasn't for the rapid beating of her heart, and the way she continued to swallow as if to keep whatever food she had in her system down; she may have been more concerned about how he got these. Apart of her was, until he told her he had been in New York the week of valentine's. Suddenly things started clicking, and her mind had been racing ever since. Surely Greta wouldn't, she knew her soon-to-be wife. But she couldn't shake the questions. Or the nagging in the back of her head, the nauseous feeling, nor the verge of a her heart breaking. She had been cheated on before, she had been left before, she most definitely had her heart shattered before; but she never expected Greta of any of those things. Not only was she feeling sick, but she was also feeling stupid. The confession at the beginning of their relationship; when Greta said she didn't do serious relationships. Was that her warning, and she chose to ignore it? It couldn't be. Why would she ask her to marry her then? Before she could keep running theories and questions through her head, the front door opened, and there before her stood what could very likely be her beginning of the end. Without formalities, Lake simply eyed her fiance. Doing her absolute best to remain calm, before she said, "I'm going to give you one chance not to lie to me." There was a pause, then a scoff, "Again." She paused once again, mainly to remind herself to remain calm because she wanted to start screaming. But they weren't there yet, maybe this wasn't what she thought it was. Just... maybe. "The week of valentine's, when you went to New York. What were you doing?"

[tatumxking]

@greta--goulding​

“I still can’t believe I talked you into coming here tonight.” He chuckled, looking over at her. “I am a bit scared about what you’re going to make me do to make it up to you though.”

[dcvidpark]

Compared to the few days where he had been out in the forest, GRF felt considerably... tamer. Before he had days where he struggled to sit still in an office, now he felt it worse than before but of course, as with everything he felt, these emotions he repressed till he could do his job. Perhaps he did appreciate the safety some of the walls gave, at least here he did not need to be fully alert. With the virus gone too, he had to once grow accustomed to weaker senses both a crutch and a virtue. His wounds had healed fine. Occasionally he still noticed a slight sense of warmth that emanated from the scars, a lasting after effect of magic or the lingering slight sympathy he had for the Fae that day he could not tell. Either way, he had no intention of speaking of this event to Greta but he would of course tell her about the other two Magicks he had encountered. 

Knocking on the door to Greta’s office three times he waited briefly before he entered. She had called for him and a catch up was long overdue. After his days hunting in the forest he had returned to some queries in email, maybe she had been worried but he highly doubted it. Hands behind his back he stood by the entrance, the door closing behind him. “Good evening, you called for me, Doctor Grimm?” 

@greta-grimm

[twistedxreality]

antonin & greta ψ explain

@margaretacatchlove

      Fingers wrapped around his knees to feel rough fabric of black pants in an attempt to ground himself as electric blue eyes studied words written in hasty scrawl across his and Greta’s shared notebook. His mind literally buzzed, the edges fuzzy and thoughts distant as he tried to comprehend meaning. It was but a few moments after her final message came through that her heavy fist rapped against his door. He could feel her confusion, her irritation through the thick wood of his house that stood alone and secluded in the woods. He opened the door and Antonin whisked her in. 

      “Don’t say anythin’ yet. Jus’-- bear with me. Tell me exactly what happened over brownie sundaes an’-- fur coats.” 

[twistedxreality]

oliver & greta ☫ maybe he’s born with it

@margaretacatchlove

       “Oliver Winthrop?” 

        Finally! 

       When he’d first entered, the salon had a thirty minute wait which turned into nearly an hour, but at last his name had been called for a good and proper waxing. It was time to have his outside match his inside and fucking Antonin, the aloof little bastard that he was, barely so much as trimmed his chest hair. He’d never done this before, and when hot wax was applied to his chest and his bits it felt almost nice. That was until strips of thin fabric spread over every area and then ripped hair free from his body. 

       Nevertheless, he found himself back in Wizarding London with his newly-purchased v-neck barely covered by his fur-trimmed jacket showing off his now hairless chest. He had the salon trim up his eyebrows and shave around his neck, too, and gods did he feel more confident. Jeans hung low on his hips and he had to admit, without all that distracting hair, Antonin wasn’t horrible looking. He certainly wasn’t his taste, but he’d do. 

       A sudden, ravenous need for a brownie sundae consumed his belly and Oliver hopped into line at Florean Fortescues. Even in the coldest of winters, the place was packed. In front of him was a girl with dirty blonde hair with bright purple tips. 

       “Oh-- my--- Gods! Your hair!” he exclaimed. “Honey, whoever did that sure knows what they’re doing. Don’t tell me. Did you go to that swanky new place that does those upscale fashion cuts over near Trafalgar Square? Ugh- WHAT is the name of that place? Never mind, it looks gorgeous.”

[coliincorrect]

Greta, quietly: Don't tell my dad about us having sex. He'll freak out about me getting pregnant.

Kangjoon: Hey Jihoo, you coming inside?

Jihoo, eyes wide: What? No, I would never..

[littlepotterdoe]

—¿Te confieso algo?— expresó la chica sonriendo mientras se acercaba a Greta —James se echa muchos gases en las noches y ya no lo soporto— no pudo evitar reír @msscatchlove