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#it was this idea of 'the poor italian kid needs to know his place'
bella-goths-wife · 24 days
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Angel and Charlie talk about pet reader
Warnings: mentions of abuse, mentions of SA, mentions of death, mentions of drug use, mentions of body image and starvation
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“Heyyy angel” Charlie said with a try hard nonchalant tone that only showed her clear desperation as she sat next to him at the bar “how’s it going?”
Angel dust raised one questioning eyebrow before giving a subtle look to husk with the clear intention of getting him to leave for a moment. The barkeep let out an annoyed huff before placing angels drink in front of him and leaving to lock himself away with a bottle of whiskey for the night.
“You wanna talk ‘bout her” angel asked but his tone made it sound more like a statement “about pet”
“Whattt” Charlie exclaimed with an overly exaggerated disbelief “noooo”
Angel narrowed his eyes at Charlie with a very clear unconvinced look before taking a swig of his drink.
“Okay, maybe I want to talk about her” Charlie admitted with a sigh before looking at angel dust with a more hopeful look “will you tell me about her”
Angel thought it over before sighing and taking another drink.
“Okay” angel said hesitantly “what do you wanna know?”
“Is her name really pet?” Charlie asked quickly, glad for the opportunity to satisfy the curiosity that had built up in her for a few days now since she met you
“No” angel answered with a shake of his head “that just what the Vs call her”
“What’s her real name?” Charlie asked curiously
Angel goes to answer but something stops him as his mouth hangs open for a moment before closing and opening again.
“Y’know, i actually don’t know” angel realises with a confused look “no one does I think, we all just call her pet or kid”
Charlie has a look of disbelief at the lack of knowledge of your basic information before asking a question.
“What’s she like?” Charlie asked carefully, treading carefully after angel dusts fragile realisation
“…..quiet” angel answers after a few moments thought “but not in like the usual introverted way, more like a scared child way”
“Scared?” Charlie questioned with a confused look “scared of what”
“The Vs, Charlie” angel answers with a sigh “she’s scared of the Vs”
Charlie thinks about it for a few moments before her expression turns somber
“What do they do to her?” Charlie asks carefully “do they hurt her?”
“That and more” angel answers with a scoff “let’s just say their preference for her doesn’t make them less cruel”
“How do they hurt her?” Charlie asks with a concerned tone “is it similar to what happens to you”
“No thank fuck, their relationship with her stops her from going into my situation” angel says with he a grimace “Vox and velvette stick to the usual slappin’ around and so does Valentino, but let’s just say he doesn’t let her being only eighteen stop him from bein’ gross with her”
“That poor girl” Charlie sighs out with a sympathetic expression “how does she cope?”
“Rumour has it round the tower that every time she has a breakdown, they lace her food or drink with something to ‘relax’ her” angel says with a scoff “I’ve seen Valentino pop a few pills in her drink whenever he’s feeling like she’s due a punishment”
“Is there anything we can do to help?” Charlie asks helplessly
“Unless you can figure out how to break soul contracts, there’s nothin’” angel states with a shrug “they have eyes on her all the time, the girl can’t even go to the bathroom without tellin’ one of them”
Charlie sighs and leans her head in her hands as she thinks about the situation before having an idea pop into her head and turning to angel dust with an excited expression.
“She could come here” Charlie says with an excited smile “like you did”
“And how you gonna do that?” Angel asks sarcastically “go into the tv station and ask Vox to pretty please let his pet move here?”
Charlie stays quiet but her excited smile gave all the conformation angel dust needed. He turns to Charlie with a desperate expression
“No, no, no, no” angel dust said desperately, his Italian accent becoming more prominent in his tone “you can’t Charlie”
“Why not” Charlie asks stubbornly
“That’s only gonna make things worse for her” angel tried to explain with a worried expression “you don’t understand Charlie, they have these rules in place for her-“
“I’m sure I can convince Vox to at least let her stay here at night and work during the day like you do” Charlie states, but she’s so far in her own mind concocting a plan that she might as well have been talking to herself “I could assure Vox that she would be safe here, and then they couldn’t hurt her”
“Charlie your not listening-“ angel dust tried to reason with her but is cut off
“Angel I can do this, I’ll be able to convince Vox” Charlie stated with a sure of herself expression “I’m gonna go there tomorrow! And who knows, she might be able to be redeemed”
Angel dust threw his hands up in defeat before finishing his drink and leaving for his room, he knew there was no getting through to Charlie when she had a plan in her head and she was determined.
But god did he hope you wouldn’t be punished to severely for her actions.
———————————————————————
Unbeknownst to either of the two demons, a certain radio demon had been listening to their exchange for some time now with a tight lipped grin.
He knew that the princess’s plan was foolish and could only end up with more severe isolation for you, it was extremely difficult to believe in the possibility that Vox would place you in the same facility where his nemesis was staying.
But he knew Charlie was blinded by her own desperate need to help and fix the demons around her problems, and while it was a lovely trait to have this was a delicate situation.
But no matter, the radio demon had already begun planning his own act of helping you escape the Vs thumb and place you under his instead.
He just needed time to figure out the logistics, and then you would be all his.
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Tag list so far
@the-faceless-bride @lilyalone @repostingmyfavs @buttercupfangirl @corvid007 @fandomaddict505
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zedortoo · 1 year
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Pizza Autism: the novella
Pizza Tower autism and/or ADHD headcanons go go go!!!!
warning there is. So much under the cut. I go off about everyone's tism
Peppino:
-Middle aged man autism. Ohh my god this guy is so autism we're starting off strong
-Most of his stims are physical and are probably. Not the most healthy (biting, banging wrists together, hair pulling etc)
-He has arfid frfr! Despite being a chef he's very careful about what he eats, however most italian foods are safe foods for him.
-Struggle showing empathy, even if he feels it. Yall saw how he reacted to Gerome mourning John he was out of his depth 😭
Gustavo:
-gnome autism.
-poor dude can't understand sarcasm to save his life. Also really bad at comprehending deeper meanings and stuff... Honestly me too Gustavo. Me too.
-actually gets overstimulated really easily. he grew up in a place similar to the gnome forest in the tower, where the air was always somewhat humid. If there's a dehumidifier running anywhere he can practically sense it and will immediately get upset bc he is too dry 💔
-His stims are mainly vocal (i.e. "I'm going to kill you") but he also likes to bounce on the balls of his feet and rock back and forth!
Mr Stick:
-French autism
-Hes not actually a huge asshole all the time, SURE he can be blunt and come off as rude but most of the time the mean persona is a mask. His really close friends know he's just a weird dude
-(stole this idea from Olympe) He is a routine lover!! Has his entire day planned out as soon as he wakes up. If you get in the way of his routine you will be turned into an ambiguous ball of meat. He was SOOOO pissed off when he got stuck in the tower bc it's wasn't in his routine so he robbed the whole damn place out of malice
-Innapropriate reactions to sensetive situations. If he had to comfort someone it would be Joever for him.
-Represses most stims because he thinks he's embarrassing. When in private though he'll spend ages examining textures and smelling paper (I do this all the time it's so fun). Occasionally when he's tired or comfortable he'll let out a high pitched squeak that noone can believe came from that middle aged man.
-I could go on with more. I love talking about this cunt.
Pepperman:
-Capsicum autism.
-Also has inappropriate reactions to things. Has no vocal control either half of the time he doesn't realize he's yelling
-Has a habit of chewing on/wanting to taste everything. Ate several wardrobes worth of Polly pocket clothes as a kid probs. Has to physically stop himself from giving his art supplies a taste. Occasionally eats an eraser still.
-If someone reorganizes his shit they WILL be killed this dude knows exactly where everything he needs is he has his own fucked up system
-Mainly uses stim toys. Has a collection of high end custom made ones but is too afraid of wearing them out so he chews on a toy dog bone instead and it's mangled to BITS
Vigilante:
-Cheese autism.
-This dude has know idea what autism actually is. He knows he's different compared to a lot of people, but he's never had the right word for it.
-Strong sense of justice. If something is wrong he WILL set it right. He got super upset when he realized Peppino wasn't actually an outlaw and he had tried to kill an innocent dude
-HATES HATES HATES processed foods. says he can taste the chemicals.
-Doesnt really stim in public. He'll tap his boot or spin the barrel of his gun if he gets really overstimulated but he much prefers to just pet some of his farm animals until he feels better
Noise:
-Rat autism!!
-This dude constantly needs to be overstimulated he loves it. If things are too quiet he gets super upset and starts bouncing off the walls and shit
-HATES the texture of carbonated drinks but forces himself to drink them because the flavour is worth it.
-Hes has like, three masks on at all times. There's the feral showbiz fella we all know and love, then beneath that is a more controlled businessman type, and beneath THAT is another, slightly less feral rat man.
-goes semi verbal sometimes. Everything just gets tangled up in his mind and he can't spit out the words he wants. He hates it when this happens during a show.
Noisette:
-Bunny autism!!!
-classic weirdgirl type. Would totally read warrior cats and roleplay as a cat on the playground as a kid.
-Also really bad with understanding emotions. You have to tell her specifically if she's upset you or something otherwise she just will not realize.
-makes a lot of vocal stims. Mainly just little beeps and stuff (I like to think she'd make that one jerma substitute teacher noise. Does anyone know what I'm talking about) Also loves to rock back and forth!!
-Has texture issues. She personally disposed of all the Sherpa fleece in the tower.
Fake peppino:
-autism supreme.
-like fr this dude is just the embodiment of autism. it eats vaccines to get more autistic/j
-cant understand when it's making someone upset. Actually, similar to Noisette, is bad at perceiving negative emotions overall.
-mirrors a lot. I mean that's like an integral part of their character. They mainly take after Peppino but will start acting like someone if he's around them long enough.
-melts into a puddle when overstimulated. Honestly? I wish I could do that too.
-Mainly mirrors stims from friends. It freaked everyone out when they started repeating Gustavo's catchphrase.
Pizzahead:
-PIZZA AUTISM!!!
-horrible moral compass this dude will do anything she wants and genuinely won't see what's wrong with it. Case in point the whole of pizza tower
-used to mask her true silly self a lot to be considered more 'normal' but decided normal ppl were boring as hell and dropped the charade
-arfid haver!! Loves pastries and breads and stuff, basically refuses to eat anything else. Has a personal vendetta against cantaloupe and has vowed to destroy it all bc he hates it soooo much
-taps his foot as a stim!! Also likes to jump around and the like, will rapidly shake their fists if incredibly excited
Gerome:
-Rock autism
-This guy loves his own company. Sure, he'll happily be social, but drops the mask as soon as he's alone. Just likes to be alone!
-Also not big on touch. The only person who's allowed to lay a finger on him is John, if anyone else just like. pats him on the back he will freeze up.
-loves being a janitor because the job is mostly repetitive. He cleans each floor in his own order, he has it all sorted out!
-loves bath bombs and stuff. Really likes the smells and just the fizz and the way they crumble in his fingers. Sometimes he'll just throw one in the sink and watch it for ages
-makes this weird clicking noise in the back of his throat as a stim. It's a rather unsettling noise but it's really the only way he stims in public. When alone he likes to feel textures of different things
John:
-hivemind autism!
-I feel bad for this dude man imagine having your being spread out through several different pocket dimensions and all of them have different textures and shot this poor bugger must've been overstimulated for years
-very blunt. Says what he wants with no remorse. Also doesn't have any volume control so often doesn't realize he's yelling
-I imagine when he was resurrected and was no longer a hivemind he had to take a long time alone just being himself. Duuuude imagine having to mask for YEARS because you were never ever alone I would lose my fucking marbles
-opposite of his brother, he doesn't understand personal space. Will often accidentally get I'm ppls faces because he doesn't realize how close he is to them. This also makes him somewhat clumsy and he has a habit of running into things
-Mainly has facial/expression stims. Will pull a big ol' grimace if something goes wrong and grin like an idiot when happy (see: when he got revived)
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misslavenderlady · 8 months
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Love at First Bite 💞
David/Female!OC & Male!OC/Female!OC
Summary: David and the Lost Boys always have their eyes out for new brides to claim. However, when the vampire queen becomes smitten with a sweet redheaded boy, it may lead to the first time a groom is added to the coven.
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This was inspired by @ghoulgeousimmaculate and her characters from the series Party the Pain Away and the various fics that take place afterwards. Ghoulie and I discussed the possibility of having another boy join the coven after so many girls were brought in. So everyone meet the new kid on the block! We hope you like him as much as Sis does~
WARNINGS: Fic contains mentions of fear, emotional manipulation, power dynamics, toxic relationship dynamics, PDA, mentions of blood/murder and alcohol. This has references to Ghoulie's stuff, and takes place in the modern world, not 1987. Part 2 HERE credit to hellobeautiful.com and artmoda.by for the pics of Daniil Kalinin and Chloe Bailey for face claims of Oliver and Sis.
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Oliver was no stranger to working hard. From a very early age, his father taught him the values of an honest day's work and the appreciation of those who took on the most challenging jobs. Things like sanitation, customer service and food preparation were to be respected, as they were thankless jobs with poor compensation.  
He kept this in mind as he got settled into his new job after moving to Santa Carla. Not too many places were hiring as much due to the tourist season dying down for the year, but he was able to get hired at a local Italian restaurant. According to the manager, they had recently lost a waitress and needed to fill the position as soon as possible. 
After seeing the ins and outs of the restaurant himself, Oliver could see why it had a lot of business, even after the summer rush. It was a gorgeous place, and he was quite impressed with the quality of the food. Putting on the server uniform made him feel quite proud of the work he was going to do. 
His first few shifts went well. Oliver got settled in with lunch services and was sure to always work with a smile and a positive attitude. The customers enjoyed his friendliness and dedication to making sure their meal was perfect. Even if he was still very green, he had plenty of potential. 
That's why his boss made him a very particular offer. 
"Hey, Oliver," the middle-aged owner said to him. "Now that you're getting more comfortable, I'd like to get you set up for a dinner shift. We could really use the help during that time."
"Oh yeah! No problem!" the redheaded boy agreed. Little did he know that around the corner, his fellow servers were looking at one another with a shared sense of nervousness. Oliver had no idea he was getting into. 
The night shift brought quite a lot more customers to the restaurant. Oliver was working twice as hard as before to make sure everyone had full drinks and hot plates of food in a timely manner. He wasn't perfect by any means, but his hard work and dedication was clear to everyone. 
He was so focused on putting orders into the POS system that he didn't notice a new couple being welcomed in by his boss. 
"Saluti signore e signora! Your usual table is all set up. Right this way!"
By the time Oliver turned back around to see who had walked in, they were already out of sight. 
"I'm not taking their table. You go take it."
"Fuck you! I took them last time! You do it!"
Oliver couldn't help but overhear two waitresses bickering quietly off to the side. They had been more casual around other tables during all the other shifts they worked together. It was a surprise to see them so adamant about not serving the couple that had walked in. 
He'd dealt with his fair share of nasty customers in past jobs. There was one elderly woman at a cashiering job that had threatened to beat him senseless with her cane over an expired coupon. If he could handle that, he could handle anything.
"I can take their table!" 
The two girls turned toward him, looks of shock plastered on their faces. 
"Really? You WANT to take them?"
"Yeah! It's no big deal, really."
They didn't look entirely convinced, but they were still appreciative of Oliver's offer to take the burden off of them. They handed him a pair of menus and silverware before each giving him a soft smile.
"Your funeral, bud."
Oliver played it off as a harmless joke, snickering playfully as he headed off to the new table. Little did he know how serious his coworkers were with such a warning. 
He'd never served anyone in the space behind the curtain before. He didn't know what to expect when he pushed the black velvet fabric to the side in order to step forward. When he got a good look at one of the diners, he nearly dropped all the items he had in hand. 
Sitting pretty in the booth across from the entrance was the most stunning woman that Oliver had ever laid eyes on. Her beauty was enhanced by her long locs, brown eyes, flawless makeup, plush lips, and glowing skin illuminated by the candles. 
Oliver could practically feel his jaw hanging open at the sight of the mystery woman. If her looks hadn't caught his eye, then the bold dress she wore certainly did. There was barely any fabric on the top half, just mere straps crossing over her curvy figure. 
If he wasn't careful, he'd start chubbing up before he could even take her order. That would be embarrassing enough if it were just her. But there was also a tall, blond, and handsome gentleman cozied up next to her. Clearly her date. 
Oliver was just grateful for the thick fabric of the apron and his notebook covering up the area. 
He finally mustered up enough courage to step to the front of their table. When the lady looked up at him, her eyes shimmered. It was as if she were admiring some kind of precious gem or a beautiful flower. Still, Oliver wasn't confident enough to believe she was as amazed by him as he was to her. 
"Good evening!" he greeted the two. "My name is restaurant, welcome to the Oliver." 
Immediately, the boy's skin flushed to a deep shade of red when he realized he got his line backwards. He slapped a hand over his mouth in embarrassment, wishing he hadn't screwed up like that. 
"I-I mean…my name is OLIVER. Welcome to the RESTAURANT. I cannot believe I did that…"
"Aww, you nervous, sweetheart?" the woman cooed, clearly amused. "This your first night? I haven't seen you around here~"
Her voice was as warm and sweet as fresh honey. The sound alone made it feel like his heart was pumping faster and faster and his blood growing hotter with every moment. 
"Well…kinda," he admitted, smiling sheepishly. "It's my first dinner shift. I've been working lunches for a couple of weeks now."
The lady nodded, seemingly understanding of his situation. While she was warm and welcoming, her date seemed to be cold as ice. His frosty blue eyes were staring directly at Oliver, scanning over him carefully. It was like he was trying to figure out his entire personality with just a look. 
It really put him on edge. Oliver wouldn't lie to himself about that. 
"Well congratulations! You picked the best place in town to work!" she smiled. "We're regulars here! You'll be seeing us quite a bit. My name's Sis!"
She held out her perfectly manicured hand to the boy, happy to introduce herself. Oliver smiled right back as he slipped his hand against hers. He was a bit surprised to find it chilled to the touch, but not to a point of discomfort. After all, with hands as soft as hers, nothing about the experience was unpleasant. 
After a good shake, the two let go. Not even a second after she released his hand did her date push his own hand in, grabbing hold of Oliver. The man had a much stronger grip, squeezing the fresh rather tightly as he shook. 
"I'm David. Her husband."
Oliver felt his stomach drop as if he were riding on the world's steepest roller coaster. This wasn't some random date. This was a man she was in a committed relationship with. 
"Oh my God, stop drooling over a married woman, you idiot. Dad raised you better than this!" Oliver scolded himself inside his head. 
"Well, it's really nice to meet you! B-Both of you!" 
David seemed to tone down his icy demeanor, giving Oliver a slick smile as he leaned back against the fabric of the booth. He tugged his wife to his chest, letting her cuddle up to him. Even with their intimate embrace, she still watched Oliver with big doe eyes. 
"So! What can I get you started off with for drinks?" 
Sis opened her mouth to speak, but wasn't able to get a word out. David deprived her of that.
"Bottle of Pinot Noir for the two of us to share. Red is the best. Right, doll?" 
To Oliver's surprise, Sis didn't look happy with that choice. Her lips were stuck in a pout and she was looking down at her lap in disappointment. 
"David, I've told you a thousand times, I don't like red wine. I want Chardonnay!" she whined. 
"Hush, darling. Daddy knows best for you~"
That didn't sit right with Oliver. Seeing her uncomfortable made him uncomfortable too. Did her husband have a habit of forcing choices she didn't want? He seemed pretty pushy. Not to mention condescending as hell. 
He nodded as he made his way past the curtain and down the hall to where the wine cellar was. While he was able to find the Pinot without issue, he couldn't help but let his eyes wander to the wall of white wines. 
It wouldn't be very fair to not at least offer the lady a choice. 
When he made his way back into the private area, Oliver held out the two bottles he had grabbed on his way out. David raised his eyebrows in surprise when he noticed the Chardonnay label. 
"I hope you don't mind! I wanted to provide some options so everyone could get what they wanted."
The blond didn't like the decision to bring out the white wine, but it thrilled his wife to have her favorite drink as an option. Oliver couldn't deny she looked extra beautiful with the look of happiness on her face. 
He popped open both bottles, carefully pouring each drink into their glasses. While David stared him down with deep focus, Sis was more relaxed with her expression. She mouthed a 'thank you' when she had her wine prepared. Oliver gave her a polite nod, but little did she know that on the inside, his heart was getting quite fluttery from the way she looked at him.
"Now then! What can I get the two of you for tonight?"
"Oh? Did they not tell you our regular orders?" David asked, raising an eyebrow. His lips were curled back into a smirk, taunting Oliver with a deep smugness. "You seem to have a long way to go in this business, kid."
He wanted to tell the guy off for mocking his newness to the restaurant, but Sis beat him to the punch. 
"Oh David, be nice! You're gonna scare the poor boy off!" 
David turned his gaze from Oliver back to his wife. There was a deep, intense focus in his icy blues. It was as if he was trying to speak to her without speaking out loud. The way Sis slunk back into the cushion of the booth made it seem like whatever message he was attempting to give got to her. It was like watching a small bunny cower under the intimidating stare of a wolf. 
Oliver gripped his pen and notepad tightly, fighting back the anger boiling within him. He still remembered how, when he was a little kid, his father taught him that men who tried to control and hurt women were cowards. Pure Scum of the Earth. This guy was no different if he thought it was okay to act that way with his own wife. 
"She'll have the chicken parmesan and a Caesar salad."
"Actually, Sir," Oliver spoke, not bothering to write down the order. "I would rather let the lady speak for herself, so I know for certain she's getting what she wants."
David didn't like that one bit. It positively baffled him that someone would talk back to him in such a way. Oliver stood his ground, not breaking eye contact with him for even a second. 
Though David was furious at such treatment, Sis was elated by it. She appreciated the respect the redheaded server was granting her. The smile on her pretty face was all Oliver needed to know he did the right thing. 
"Well! As a matter of fact, I was interested in trying some New York strip. I've been hearing really great things about it from my girlfriends!"
Oliver was more than happy to write that down for her. He eagerly scribbled away as she told him how she wanted the steak cooked and what kind of veggies she wanted for a side. Oliver even made a note to bring her extra potatoes as a way to show her extra care. 
"I'd be happy to get that for you, Miss."
"Oooh! I haven't been called 'Miss' in quite some time. Aren't you a charmer~"
His cheeks were positively flushed with redness from her sweet coos of praise. It was worth it, even with her husband staring him down with a burning hatred. 
"And for you, Sir?"
"The same. But make my steak rare. I have quite an appetite for something bloody."
Now Oliver wasn't feeling as confident in himself. Normally he would dismiss these comments as coming from someone trying too hard to be tough after listening to too many podcasts on being an "alpha male". 
This was not one of those times. Something about the way David looked at him made it seem as if that was to be taken as a genuine threat. That he better mind his business or else he would be the one to become a bloody piece of dead meat. 
Any confidence Oliver had before was promptly shut down. With a quick flick of his pen, he finished writing out the order and gave a nod before scampering off back to the kitchen. The sooner he got out of David’s sight, the better. 
“How’s it going back there?” one server asked Oliver while clumsily put in the order. She must have sensed his nervousness from all the way back in the kitchen.
“It’s interesting…” he admitted. “That woman is really nice, but her husband looks like he wants to bite my head off.”
Oliver had been exaggerating when he said that, but when he glanced over at his coworker, she had a look of genuine concern on her face.
“Listen to me, Ollie. Just play it safe. David is not someone you want to mess with. Just be quick, respectful, and get out of his way so he can spend time with his wife. It’s your best chance at surviving the night.”
The redheaded boy let out a deep sigh as he passed the order along to the chefs. She was right. He couldn’t let his budding crush on a random customer cloud his judgment. All he had to do was work hard, and not let his emotions get the better of him. If everyone was happy, then he would be happy too.
“Okay. I can do that,” he said. “I appreciate everyone looking out for me.”
“No problem,” she replied, giving him a pat on the back before turning to leave. However, she didn’t get far before thinking of one last piece of advice to give. 
“Oh! By the way! Don’t be shocked if those two are…heavy on the PDA. David’s quite wealthy, so Giuseppe lets him get away with more lewd stuff. If you see something, don’t say anything.”
That certainly wasn’t something Oliver was expecting to hear in terms of advice. He wasn’t even sure to what extent she meant by that. It wasn’t until he grabbed a basket of fresh bread for their table and made his way back to the area behind the curtain that he finally understood.
And boy, did he get an eyeful.
David had Sis firmly perched on his lap, letting her straddle him as he feverishly kissed her. Her hands were holding onto both sides of his face, stroking his beard lovingly. They both moaned into their kiss, pawing at one another as if they hadn’t experienced a sensual touch in ages. Tongues dancing together and bodies moving.
David had pulled down the fabric of her dress, letting the girls out for anyone coming by to see. It wasn’t a surprise that she didn’t have a bra on under such a skimpy piece, but it was still quite a shock to see a half-naked customer going at it with their lover without a care of who came their way. 
Oliver kept his mouth shut, still very much shocked by the lustful display, but now knowing better than to say anything. Even if this wasn’t normal for the restaurant, he would still be a bit too shy to ask them to stop. All he did was silently move to place the basket on the corner of their table. They could take the basket whenever they finished..
His green eyes glance up just for a mere moment, moving without his control. He didn’t mean to, but even in that split second, his gaze locked onto the lady. Sis’ eyes opened, catching Oliver in her peripheral vision. The poor boy froze in place, hand still on the bread basket and eyes widening as the beauty watched him. Meanwhile, David’s eyes were still closed, his mouth now on her neck to nibble and kiss at her soft-looking flesh. Only Oliver and Sis were watching one another.
Oliver was certain she was going to scowl at him. Tell him to beat it so she could continue getting frisky with her hubby. But she didn’t. In fact, she did the opposite. 
She smiled at him. 
A smile that was a perfect mix of sweet and spicy. Something that showed she liked having him nearby for company, but also a hint of desire from him watching them. Her beautiful brown eyes were shimmering in the light, while her long lashes fluttered in a playful manner. She puckered her lips to make a kissing motion at him. 
Was she….flirting with him? All while riding her husband?
Oliver was far too overwhelmed to even consider the idea. He scampered off out of the room, leaving the couple be in order to rush back to the kitchen. Better to let them be before his face went full-tomato in color. Even still, while he tried to keep busy with his tasks, his heart was beating a mile a minute. 
By the time the dishes were ready to be served, he had managed to pull himself together enough to bring out their food with complete professionalism. 
Sis and David looked more than satisfied. All snuggled up with one another. They had dressed up again, and their hair was a bit messier and faces flushed compared to the last time Oliver had popped in.. All he had to do was act like he HADN’T just seen them in a romantic embrace.
“Here you are! I really hope you enjoy the meal!" 
The excited grin on Sis' face as she watched him set her plate of food down was all too sweet. She really was a beautiful lady, and every moment he made her happy ended up making Oliver happy, too. 
Still, he wanted to make sure both of them were satisfied with their service. With the same friendly smile on his face, Oliver turned to David to set his own dish down, too. Unfortunately, he didn't get the same expression of delight that Sis had shared. David kept his lips pressed tight in a grimace. His entire body was in a tense form. Eyes of crystal blue were watching him with unblinking focus, like a hawk stalking its prey. 
Everything about David was making Oliver nervous, but it wasn’t the intensity that finally made him stumble. It was how, for a split second, the color of his irises seemed to flash to a bright yellow right before Oliver’s very eyes.
Oliver jumped as he was setting the plate down, knocking into David’s glass of wine in the process. A sea of dark red wine sloshed outward, cascading onto the table, the cloth on top of it and down onto the lower half of Sis’ dress.
“Ah!!” she gasped. “SHIT! No! I just got this from Italy!”
The boy’s eyes widened in shock, tearing away from David and focusing just on the lady whose dress he had just ruined. She looked so upset, and it made him feel deep shame and fear, overwhelming his senses with panic. The blood in his face drained, leaving him completely pale. 
“O-Oh! I am SO sorry, Miss!” Oliver stammered.
“Now look at this mess,” David tsked, crossing his arms and shaking his head. Unlike Sis, who was showing worry over her beautiful gown, he had an aura of disappointment. He was acting like a parent getting ready to give their child a firm scolding. 
Unbeknownst to Oliver, David was already planning how he would teach him a lesson for ruining his wife's belongings. He would make the poor server boy realize just who he had messed with. Really make him sorry for his actions. 
But he didn't get the chance. 
"Please let me fix this!" 
The redhead was quick to jump into action, first grabbing an unused cloth napkin and dunking it into an untouched glass of ice water to soak it. He kneeled down in front of Sis' seat and began gently blotting at the stain on her dress. Even with the dark fabric hiding the redness, he wanted to prevent any discoloration on the garment. All the while Sis watched with a worried expression. 
"Don't worry! I know some tricks to help with this."
In between dabbing with the wet, cold rag, Oliver grabbed a nearby salt shaker and sprinkled some salt into his palm before rubbing it evenly over the red stain. 
"Let that sit for a few minutes," he explained, getting back up to his feet and moving the items on top of the table around so that the soaked tablecloth could be removed from their sight. "After I toss this into the laundry pile, I'll grab some more stuff to finish cleaning!"
Oliver was off like a shot, racing against the clock so that the stain wouldn't set. He wouldn't possibly forgive himself if he ruined their night by his clumsiness. He wasn't even thinking about the odd moment with David's eyes. All he remained focused on was getting all the necessary supplies from the cleaning closet. 
With his tools in hand, Oliver returned to the dining area, kneeling once again by Sis' side. The salt had come in handy for pulling a good amount of the red color out, but the next part would add an extra kick for help. Oliver's hands moved in a blur as he poured dish soap and hydrogen peroxide into a spray bottle. With the liquids measured to his liking, Oliver sealed and shook up the bottle to a sudsy consistency. 
"Wow! Aren't you an efficient thing?" Sis smiled, holding out the fabric so that he could evenly spray the stain. "Where'd you learn this trick, honey?"
"Oh, my dad knew a lot about preserving clothes whenever they got stained, ripped, or worn out," Oliver explained. "Growing up, we had to make our stuff last as long as possible. Didn't have money to burn on new clothes all the time."
That's the understatement of the year, he thought to himself. Piles of bills and his father's restless nights worrying about being able to feed his child weren't something to take lightly. Still, he didn't want to burden the couple he just met with his life story. All he wanted to do was to fix his mistake so their date wasn't spoiled. 
"Listen, I do feel bad about the mess. If the stain is still there by the time you're finished with your meal, I'd be more than happy to pay for any other cleaning you get done for it."
As much as Oliver wanted to offer to pay for the dress itself, he could not possibly afford the cost of a luxury brand dress straight from Europe. Not unless he saved his money for the next 50 years. Still, Sis' kind smile told him the offer he had given flattered her. 
"Don't you worry your sweet head, hun," she cooed, tucking a finger under his chin and tilting his head up a bit more. Oliver softly gasped at the gesture, cheeks flushing red once again. 
"Yes. She's right," David spoke up. Oliver nearly jumped out of his skin when he remembered her husband was right next to them. "Thank you for cleaning her up. It's good to know Giuseppe knows how to pick the best and most competent people to work here."
After a dinner of going back and forth between smugness and fear-inducing intensity, it was a relief to see David actually pleased with his work. Oliver quickly scampered back to his feet so he wouldn't push his luck with being so close to the guy's wife. Even if it was nice being around her, he wasn't a home-wrecker. 
The rest of their night went off without a hitch. Both of them got to enjoy their delicious steak dinners in peace, and Oliver managed to keep their glasses topped off without spilling another drop. By the time he delivered the check to their table, it was safe to say he had redeemed himself. 
"It was a pleasure serving you both tonight! How's your dress looking now?"
"Good as new all thanks to your quick thinking, hun!" Sis beamed, showing off the bottom half of her dress. Sure enough, Oliver's work had left it spotless once again. "I want to properly thank you for doing that for me."
Oliver wasn't one to take on acts of service for any rewards. He simply liked to make himself useful and ease the burden of others. But with the excited glint in Sis' eyes as she nudged her husband, he couldn't bring himself to decline such an offer. 
That was until David dug into his pocket and pulled out the most massive wad of cash Oliver had seen in his entire life. He was practically bug-eyed at the sight. David reached out to place the stack of bills in his hand, but he shook his head 'no'.
"Wh-Whoa! That's very generous of you, but I can't possibly accept that much money from you!"
David was already intimidating enough. Having the ability to throw money around like it was nothing didn't help that feeling. Besides, he was just doing as his father would have done. Not accepting charity for basic decency. 
"It's nothing! I haven't had such amazing service in a long time!" Sis insisted. "You worked hard and I can already tell you're gonna be our favorite server here. Let me show my thanks, Oliver."
Sis plucked the cash wad out of David's hand and reached her hand out to tug at Oliver's apron. He softly gasped as she tucked the money into his pocket, giving his chest a light pat afterwards. He felt like his head was going fuzzy.
"Besides…I have a soft spot for cuties with freckles~" 
Oliver's heart was practically doing backflips in his chest. The couple smiled playfully as they put their arms around one another, ready to leave together. By the time they had moved past the curtain and exited the restaurant, he was still standing in place with a bright red set of cheeks and a pocket full of hundreds. 
He would definitely be asking his boss for more dinner shifts going forward. 
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"It's amusing he put in all that work fixing the stain, considering you're gonna get it covered in blood for our hunt later."
David and Sis were enjoying the remaining moments of their date night together. With the light of the full moon illuminating the path of the Santa Carla streets, they could enjoy each other's company and keep their eyes out for a victim or two.
"He was a sweet guy," Sis sighed, nuzzling against her husband's shoulder. "Very polite, dedicated, hardworking. I overheard his thoughts, too. Poor thing struggled when he was growing up. He comes from humble beginnings."
"Yeah, and he thought I was being an asshole."
"You're just soooo intimidating, Daddy," Sis cooed, stroking his ego. "And he backed off when he found out we were married. He's a respectful boy."
Little did Oliver know that David was one of several partners that Sis was romantically involved with. Humans and their ideas of monogamy were all too amusing to vampires. 
David smiled kindly down at his wife, noticing the substantial amount of bliss she was experiencing. 
"You really liked him, huh?"
"Yeah. I did," she sighed dreamily. "He was like…a loyal puppy"
Little did she know that the gears in David's head were turning. He adored seeing his queen so happy, especially after the recent traumatic events she had gone through. She was a fighter to the end, and she deserved to feel safe again. 
Perhaps the pup would come in handy to his queen. 
end of part 1
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Tag List: @britany1997 @michael-after-hours @6lostgirl6 @kurt-nightcrawler @bezinful @american-idiot-jpg @vampirefilmlover @legal-lost-boy @crustyraccoon @ghoulgeousimmaculate @crustyboypix @oceansrose2002 @desoolate @palomam18 @themarginalthinker @bloodywickedvamp @vigdys @charlizekkelly
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jackiequick · 1 year
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A Character Study 📖 on our Original Characters ✍🏼 (Part 1)
Amelia Parker 🍕
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Full Name: Amelia Rachel Mary Parker-Morris
Date of birth: July 14, 1995
Nationally: Italian-American
Place of Origin: Queens, New York
Age depending on the year: 14–24
Gender: Female
Height: 5’2
Sexuality if anyone cares: Straight (until she meets Agent Piper) realizes she might be Bi with a male preference??
Specie: Human with a genetic mutation
Genetic mutation: Classified as an empath. As in she can sense, change, manipulate and control others emotions. If she senses your emotions, she’ll embrace them and use them to press on others. Her eyes tend to glow shade of orange when she does uses her powers.
Jobs: Agent, Bartender & Seamstress
Rank: Level 4 Agent. Field & Tech.
Any Heath Conditions & such: Amelia had anxiety, insomnia, not the best eye sight, low levels of vertigo and a tendency to stay quiet to herself during any episodes. She also has a lot of scars, bumps and bruises from missions. Plus a bit of traumatized and stressed from some of the experience she seen happened before her very eyes.
Relationship status: Has gone a few dates and had a few relationships back then. Currently she’s in a pretty nice stable relationship (2015- now 2018)
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The Family ~
Mother: May Parker 🧸
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Father: Arron Morris 🧳
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Aunt: Bobbi Morris 🐦
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Step Father/Uncle: Ben Parker 🧩
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Little Cousin: Peter Benjamin Parker 🕸
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—>~<
Early Years 👨‍👩‍👧‍👦🪁🪀
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Amelia Parker grew up in New York City, traveling between Queens and Manhattan. Her family members mainly involved her, Ben Parker, May Parker and Peter Parker. Her father Arron Morris wasn’t around much due to work and travel but he always had family like his sister Bobbi Morris nearby.
Mia was always a creative child and very sweet, as much she seemed very strong, sassy and stubborn—in reality she was a big softie at heart! A big softie who always had big dreams and was never one to stay in one place. The girl wants to do it all!
From a young age she was always into designing clothes (little did she know that skills comes to help her later in life) and shaping her views on the world. She would dance and perform with baby cousin Peter in her small 2 bedroom apartment making Aunt May & Uncle Ben laugh.
The small family didn’t grow up with much, to society standards they were considered poor or middle class people. A small apartment in Queens, children having to bunk together for warmth in the colder months, crime nearby the area, always making sure to not waste food and making sure to get enough money to pay off the bills. However they were happy people and always trying to help out others who need it most.
However one day Uncle Ben surprised the family with tickets for vacation to Miami! Arron was against the idea due to his job working in SHIELD and guessing something might happen. May agreed with her husband Ben, instead of her Ex-boyfriend Arron taking the family to that nice vacation. It was greatly enjoyed and surprisingly since they were able to visit The Stark Expo (2010)! Peter being a huge fan of Iron Man was super excited about it and Mia enjoyed the whole idea of traveling to the Expo to experience the new things.
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Until a week later, The Stark Expo backfire and a fight broke up causing people to go running. Arron was off doing a mini Mission for Fury during the week before so he wasn’t there to protect them from the danger.
Uncle Ben and Aunt May lost the kids in the rush of everyone running. Peter and Mia were searching for shelter, when a Justin Hammer Iron Suit was ready to attack both of the children.
Mia was protecting the boy, when she toss a few feet across from Peter onto the ground as he tried to stand protectively in his Iron Man mask, pretending to the hero. Suddenly Iron Man swooped in front of the kids blasting the Metal Suit away from both children. “Good job, kid!” Said Iron Man checking on the both of them, before flying away. Soon enough Aunt May and Uncle Ben found both children bringing them to safety of the hotel.
After the fight with at The Stark Expo was over and the family was spending their last days in Miami everything was fine. Until Arron had argument with Ben and May about the incident, how SHIELD could’ve been careful about the situation and the safety of the children. Peter was playing video games on his Nintendo so he wasn’t listening but Mia was. She heard the word of SHIELD being tossed around from the adults plenty of times, along with the tales of Iron Man & The Hulk on the news.
As the years went on the young girl was stilled bruised up from the accident and every conversation between the adults in her life but grew up curious about SHIELD. Finally confirming the identification of SHIELD with her aunt Bobbi, who she assumed worked at The Bank, but actually worked for SHIELD herself as a spy. From that moment onwards, Amelia wanted to become an agent to protect and provide for her family, especially after that scared accident that happened in the 2010 Stark Expo. She didn’t care if she was too young, she would still try…
The SHIELD Years 🛡��💡
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Amelia has been Agent Of SHIELD since 2012–2018. Studying from a young girl in Queens New York to reach the chance to be accepted into The Academy. It took plenty of failed attempts, angrily reports to Aunt Bobbi Morris and regret applications, causing her one night after work to go street racing and ending up in behind bars. When suddenly Agent Grant Ward and Agent Phil Coulson appeared on the other side of the bars to recruit the young girl.
Amelia stayed in the beginning of working in the back of SHIELD ends Level 1-2, eventually working her way in 2014 to become more involved with SHIELD’s work. Getting to meet The Avengers and the future Young Avengers, who would become her friends later on. They were friendly to say the least, some not so much..
First television appearance in Agents Of SHIELD season 2 episode 5, as just a simple agent tasked for Coulson’s crew and family members. Discusses the possibility of Mutants and Inhuman living among them, finding out that she’s actually one herself while on a mission with Daisy Johnson to find out more about the people who they’re investigating.
Amelia is smart, sweet and caring. Definitely a goofball a times! However she can also be snarky, curious, weirdly cunning depending on the mission and very stubborn. Often leads her to situations and end up with making calls she wasn’t willing to take.
She went on a few dates here and there with a few agents, such as Agent Piper, Daisy Johnson, Commander Darren, Baker and etc. However Amelia fell in love with Agent Grant Ward’s friend and fellow agent, Nick Wilder. She spend months living in cloud 9 training with him, going on dates, happily in love and eventually having him met her family.
Little did she know, Nick was actually a Hydra and later turned HIVE Agent undercover. He was sent to use her information and get close to SHIELD, use her powerset for their own dirty work figuring out who they’re really working with. However Nick really fell in love with Amelia, wanting to protect her but his cover was blown by Jemma Simmons. The couple broke it off soon enough.
Amelia goes on mission with the crew and they eventually all become family though the pain, discovery and suffering. Stays on the show from season 2-4. When the Sokovia Accords and The slow fall of HYDRA hits SHIELD deeply, it meant they no longer needed to operate under the shadows, causing the team to have different tasks taken places.
This meant Amelia moved up ranks and was able to explore her landscape. Building suits, remodeling the offices, going on more research and rescue mission, discovering older cases and become more efficient in recruitment center of SHIELD.
Eventually and sadly meant she taken being part of the beginning of Agent Leonard Fitz little project. The FrameWork. Everything turned out fine in the end but it was a rocky escape from it all. On the bright side, the effects of the experiment cause her powers to develop a bit more.
The New York Spider Years 🕷🗄🍟
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Then she leaves shortly afterwards midway later in 2016 for family business. As in, she really missed her mother May Parker and cousin Peter Parker! They welcomed the Amelia back into the small apartment with open arms. Mia stayed closer than never to her family, spending plenty of days with her mother and Peter. Even meeting Ned Lees who had a crush on the older girl and Mia found it funny.
The trio would spend night needing out watching Action movies and Sci-Fi movies as well. Star Wars fans for sure, having a lightsaber and a few themed shirts and socks as well. Mia tends to watch Rom Coms and dramas with her mother instead.
She didn’t have many friends, Mia never tended to have friends in the first place in general. But she did make friends like Melissa, Cole, Meira, Stark, Rick, and a few more.
Her mother encouraged her to go dating and go see New York City. So she did, meeting a nice guy name Quinten Beck for a while. But it was a bit hard for her though. Specifically if she’s gets a bit of heavy anxiety and nerves may rise up around people, especially when she has her full guard down and she’s just normal Amelia Parker.
Speaking on normal Amelia Parker, with her life spending it in Queens New York, Mia took up multitasking. Working at her father’s bar once again with her old pal Jeremy, sewing fabric pieces in actual pieces of clothes and jumping off to smaller missions for SHIELD. It was tiring and caused a lot of sleepless nights, raising her anxiety levels a bit and her senses rising back up. However with her years of training for SHIELD, she’s able to hide all that from her friends and family. Even if, they can see the cracks shining though.
During those years, Amelia grew near The Avengers, Young Avengers and saw her own little cousin want to become a hero himself. SpiderMan. He didn’t tell her or Aunt May at first due to reasons and stuff of his own work, even though Mia suspect something was clearly up. Especially when Peter grew closely to The Stark Family. She waited a extremely long time until Peter finally told her one night on the rooftop of a building, after they both spotted each other during a robbery accident in The City.
To say it was a long night teary was a understatement. Amelia was heartbroken that Peter didn’t trust her with this secret, instead telling Ned and his friends. Especially since his job meant he skipped class, stayed up late nights and risking his life for the greater good. But she couldn’t be too mad exactly, because she took a similar very job as well and the fact that she tends to a bit nosey sometimes.
They talked about Peter’s next steps and his job with Tony Stark and the rest of the Stark Family, Amelia’s position in all of this and how she might help. Soon enough they helped each other out. Mia took it upon herself to become a seamstress for the heroes. As she designed and sewed Peter a few new suits, keeping tabs on him and their family.
It was very long and busy time for The Parker family. Aunt May even joined in on the mini team they had going on with The Young Avengers. Even though Amelia didn’t become a mother hen type of role for Peter’s role as SpiderMan and let him live his life. She watched Peter and let him fall, knowing he will rise up again.
Amelia’s life came a bit crazy and busier with The Young Avengers (+The Original Avengers) as she recruited more heroes and pulled back the layers to SHIELD’s secrets, as she took it upon herself and the crew to rise up and grow the next generation of heroes. It became tricky but they did it.
But she remembered a simple phase from a song and said it every time, “So take it all, the city’s yours. It’s worth fighting for, it’s all mine. It’s all yours.” She even tend to tells this to Peter and his friends, plus a few family members.
As of the year 2018, Amelia Parker-Morris is in a stable position and feels very loved. Yes she is still stressed, has anxiety and acts overwhelmed with work due to her being a woman who wants to do it all. But she’s working on it slowly! Running her small fashion company with friends, assistant manager in SHIELD Academics and part-time owner of the family bar. Now she watches in the wings of her office over the Young Avengers and having new discoveries everyday to build a better world.
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Hope you loved it! I’ll be happy to hear your thoughts on this. Keep the chain going if you like 👍
Tags: @meirafireshield @sherlkore @gaminggirlsstuff @drspencereidhotch @blueboirick @mandylove1000 @t-nd-rfoot @msrochelleromanofffelton @yetanotherwells @gcthvile @eliohasmyheart @halesfavoriteharlot @rooster-84 and etc
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Coach (1)
Fandom: Dylan O'Brien
Pairing: AU Dylan x Fem!Reader
Mini series summary: Being a newly single mom of two kids wasn't exactly easy. And love wasn't exactly part of your agenda. So, should you avoid lusting over your son's baseball coach? Absolutely. But with a man like Dylan, could you really resist? Probably not.
Warnings: nothing major yet, small sexual innuendo, mentions of cheating and divorce
WC: 1.9k
A/N: a yes, to those who have been following me for a while may recognize this title, it's my old Dylan AU fic. Yes I decided to continue it. Updates will come periodically, because I write spontaneously and I cant guarantee quick updates. But I do promise I wont wait a whole year to update. And since I did some slight updates in the first 2 parts I decided to archive the old ones and repost them again. So yeah, if you've read them before great, give it another read, my writing is much better now I promise and if you're new welcome, I hope you like this mini series.
(You are here, part 2, part 3)
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Dylan stood by the side of the large field, near the home plate, occasionally yelling out suggestions and pointing out mistakes to the young boys. 
"Ezra! You have to watch the ball! C'mon! I know you can do better!" He called out to the blonde boy standing on the home plate with a bat in hand. Dylan then turned his attention to the dark haired boy with the baseball mitt and ball in hand.
"Roman! What's going on, buddy? You gotta focus, alright? You gotta work on that throw!" Dylan called out to the young boy, who half nodded and sighed heavily in response.
Not long after, Dylan signaled the young boys scattered throughout the large field to gather around. He spoke some encouraging words to the boys before allowing them to disperse and gather their equipment which meant practice was over.
Your son, however, stayed behind for a minute. There was an inaudible conversation happening between Dylan and your ten year-old, Roman. You watched from the bleachers as your son made some tired gestures at his coach followed by a small pat on the back from Dylan. You couldn't help but follow them with your eyes as they made their way to the bleachers, your eyes lingering a bit too long on the brown haired coach. An action that wasn't taken lightly by the female sitting beside you.
"You're staring at him again." Your best friend, Ezra's mother, Eliza -or just Liz, commented.
"I'm not." You muttered out quickly, tearing your eyes away from the handsome coach, your mouth hanging open for a couple of seconds. "I wasn't staring." You stated matter of factly and shrugged as you looked down at the small six year-old sitting on your lap, making sure she wasn't paying attention to the conversation.
"Really? The drool coming from your mouth says otherwise." Liz playfully ran her finger across your chin, pretending to wipe away at it. You slightly glared at her, an eye roll going her way.
"I'm not drooling. I wasn't even staring." You tried to defend yourself, making a small sassy gesture to her.
"Hey, I don't blame you. If I wasn't married," she took a pause as she eyed Dylan as he removed his baseball hat to run a hand through his messy chocolate locks, you couldn't help but stare as well. "I'd jump on his bones any day."
"Hey, there's young ears present." You said quietly to Liz as not to disturb the young girl in your arms.
Despite your attempt not to, you couldn't help but allow your eyes to fall once again on the field, following the handsome male that was the topic of your conversation. You had to hide the infatuated sigh that left your lips at the sight of your son's coach running around the field, talking to the kids and picking up equipment.
"Well he is handsome, I'll give him that.." You admitted quietly, "and he's really good with the kids."
Your friend smirked slightly at your words and wiggled her eyebrows at you.
"I bet that's not the only thing he's really good at." She eyed you suggestively and slightly nudged at you with her shoulder, "You should find out what other things he's good at."
Your mouth instantly fell open and your eyes widened at the insinuation.
"Eliza! Oh, my god. Don't say that." You slightly shook your head to brush off the embarrassment and hid your face on your hands to cover the crimson on your skin.
"Mommy you're warm!" Athena, your six year-old giggled as she grabbed your warm, sweaty hands. Even your daughter noticed the nervousness that crept up on you when it came to Dylan, even if it was just the topic of him. Truth was, you had been shamelessly crushing on your son's baseball coach ever since he joined the team a couple of months ago. 
Get it together, you should not be crushing on your son's baseball coach.
"I know baby, it's just hot out here." You tried to brush it off, but the knowing smirk on Liz's face wasn't exactly helping. "Thena, why don't you go get Roman and Ezra? They're over there." You pointed to the field where Roman and Ezra were talking —or more like just Ezra was, to the other kids on the team. She quickly nodded and bolted off the bleachers, somehow not tripping over the steps as she went down. You sighed heavily the moment the young girl was far enough and slightly turned your head in Liz's direction.
"You should totally ask him out." She said out of nowhere with a shrug and a smirk on her face. Your eyes widened for the hundredth time, and you instantly shook your head frantically, the idea alone giving you a headache.
"Ask Dylan out? No way. I.. No.. That's just.. No." Your cheeks slightly heat up at the preposition. But you quickly turned it down with a vigorous shake of your head, not even giving the idea a minute to sink into your brain. "No, he's Roman's coach. It's just wrong."
"Why? I mean, you're single, and as far as I know, he's very single. Soo," she dragged the 'o' as she wiggled her eyebrows and she nudged your shoulder, pushing you over a little in a high school girl manner, "Why not get ready to mingle with the hot coach?"
"First of all, I'm technically not single, not yet." You groaned with an eyeroll. As much as you and your husband —or ex-husband or whatever were no longer living together, the divorce process had been unnecessarily long and dreadful. So as much as you wanted to be legally single, you were still married to that piece of shit. 
"And second of all, if I were to date someone, which is a big if, I can't date Roman's coach out of all people. He already has enough as it is. It'll just confuse him and probably upset him more." You sighed heavily as you looked over to the side of the field, where all the boys were having a conversation about elementary boys' things. And there you saw your son, trying, and ultimately failing at joining said conversations. And with little Athena tugging at his side, all he got from the other kids was laughing and rejection.
Seeing your son's sad and hurt expression when the other boys laughed at him or even told him to go away broke your heart. You wanted him to be happy again. You wanted him to be the energetic and loving kid he was before your waste of a husband left. Ever since Ryan —your waste of a husband left, Roman hasn't been the same. 
For the past six or so months, he has been distant and seemingly unhappy. All he ever did was lock himself up in his room and play video games. He barely ever interacted with you and Athena anymore. He barely interacted with anyone, period. Once Ryan left, it was up to you to support your kids financially. Of course, their father still paid child support, but he sure as hell didn't pay your bills or everything you needed to spend on your children. Which meant you had to take him out of the fancy school he went to in order to still pay the monthly expenses of your home. And he just didn't quite fit in at school, especially now. 
So, you hoped that him joining the baseball team would change that, that it would help him open up again and that it would help him make new friends. But so far, it's worked just the opposite.
"So, I'm making dinner tonight. Do you want to come over with the kids and get drunk? Luke will watch over the kids." Liz spoke, interrupting your train of thought.
"That sounds a-mazing," you spoke in a song-like tune, a sigh of contentment leaving your lips. "But I can't. I told Roman I'd take him to that Italian place he likes."
"Tomorrow then. I'll have that Chardonnay you love so much waiting for you." She winked at you as you both stood up, ready to greet your children.
"Thank God for your alcohol stash." You joked, flinging your arms up in praise. 
You both laughed and smiled in your children's direction, but your smile dropped as your kids and Ezra approached you. Ezra was holding Athena's hand, while Roman walked behind them, with a certain heaviness on his step and an annoyed look on his face. And Athena had a small pout on her face.
"Hey, what's wrong?"
"Rome doesn't want to hold my hand!" Athena whined with a pout of her lower lip. She released Ezra's hand and exchanged it for your own. Ezra going to his own mom. While Roman simply stood there, with a hand stuffed into his pockets and the other messing with the strap of his bag, his gaze stuck on the ground.
"Roman, baby," you sighed softly, not wanting to give the poor kid a hard time. You understood he didn't exactly fit in, no matter how much he wanted to, and that upset him. You didn't want to add up to that. "Your sister just wanted you to hold her hand."
"She was embarrassing me.. I'm already the kid without a dad, I don't need to be the kid with an annoying  baby sister." He muttered, his gaze not once leaving the ground.
 His words were harsh, but lacked emotion. And it broke your heart. But as much as you wanted to tell him that it wasn't true, that he did have a dad, you'd be lying if you did. Ryan was already absent in your children's lives before the split, but at the same time he was there, and Roman felt as if he was. But now, his father really wasn't there, at all. And there was nothing you could do about it.
You sighed softly, gesturing your free hand out for him, "Roman, come here," a heavy sigh left the young boy's lips as he took a few steps closer, standing in front of you with his head hanging low and his eyes stuck to the ground. You used your hand to hold the side of his face, his eyes meeting with your own. "Baby, Thena just wanted to show you that she loves you. She didn't mean to embarrass you, right Thena?" You turned your attention to the small girl that hid behind your arm, her eyes glistening with tears.
The small girl sniffled and shook her head, "No.. I'm sorry Rome.. I won't do it ever again, I-I promise."
You exchanged looks between your children, your eyes finally landing on Roman as you waited for a response. You raised an eyebrow at him, your eyes speaking a silent 'and' to the boy. He eventually signed, almost too heavily, and nodded. 
"It's okay, I guess.. I don't really mind all that much." He half smiled, shrugging slightly.
Athena's expression quickly lightened, the small girl detached herself from your hand and hugged her older brother. And as much as he hated to admit it, he didn't mind the affection. He returned the hug and smiled, for a moment at least.
After a second or two, Roman slightly pushed Athena off him, signaling that that had been enough affection for a day. You breathed out softly, turning to look at Liz, who gave you a sympathetic smile in response. 
"Well my loves, off we go. Say goodbye to Auntie Liz and Ezra." Both your children did as you said. Athena hugging both of them, and Roman simply waving at them. Good enough.
And at last, you gave Liz a quick but tight hug, "I'll call you tomorrow." You said shortly before you grabbed a hold of your daughter's hand and your son's bag, and eventually parted ways.
Today was gonna be a long day.
《Here's an edited version of part 1. As always I hope y'all enjoyed it. I'm trying to get back into writing after a long year, hopefully this will help me get back on track. Let me know your thoughts. And let me know if you'd like to be added to my dylan/coach taglist which I do have》
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write-orflight · 3 years
Text
Settle Down: Prologue
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**Gif Not Mine**
Prev -  Next
Pairings: SpencerXReader (kinda enemies to lovers) 
Rating: M
Words: 2.5K
Warnings: None, will be smut in eventual chapters
Request: OPEN/CLOSED
Summary: Y/N and Spencer don’t get along but turn to each other for the one thing you need someone else for... A baby. You can plantonically start a family, right?
A.N: this is a bad bio but idk how else to put it. it’s a baby fic! I wouldn’t say this is enemies to lovers but they certainly don’t like each other at first so it kinda is. comment on this chap or message to be on the taglist. much love, Cia
                Prologue:  A Powerpoint, Really? 
If you had told 16 year old Y/N that she’d be working at the FBI, she would’ve called you batshit. 
Not only, did you not have any respect for authority or any inclination for rules in that matter, working for the FBI was never in the forefront of your mind. But when given the option of Jail or a full time job with benefits, it was fairly easy to make a choice. You remember the first day when you met your work partner and now best friend Penelope Garcia or specifically the day she caught you. 
You were waiting tables like you did every weekend to stay afloat. Today was unreasonably slow so you were just finding small things to do. That’s when she came in, an extremely brightly dressed woman, sat at the bar of the diner. 
“Hi, how can I help you?” You smile at the woman who looks up at you and smiles. 
“Yes, I’m looking for the Emerald City.” She says, smirking at you. Your face drops, you knew what she was talking about. 
When you started hacking it was only supposed to be a one time thing. You grew up poor, spent most of your life poor so when you saw your childhood home was set to be demolished to build a fancy new headquarters for Scotty Realins, an upcoming asshole tech CEO, without a cent going to your parents.  Something in you snapped. You had already been pretty decent at code and you flirted with a couple of guys in your STEM classes to learn how to hack so you would say you were pretty good at this point. So you hacked into the website and made sure all the Revenue for that day actually was wired to lower-income housing. At the end of the day, it was only a couple hundred thousand dollars but what was pennies to Scotty Realins changed some people's lives. 
So you started doing it more, to different companies under the pseudonym OZ. The money always went to different places that needed it whether it was paying the rent for a bunch of families or anonymous large donations to food banks or soup kitchens. You gained a bit of fame in the hacker community as a modern day Robin Hood. 
All good things come to an end though. And the end was standing in front of you in clunky, rainbow colored jewelry. 
“You don’t look like a cop.” you say, crossing your arms. 
“I’ll do you one better.” She says, pulling her FBI badge out, showing it to you briefly. You curse under your breath. “I’ve been following you for a while, OZ. Though I wasn’t expecting the man behind the curtain to be a woman. I will say, having my computers route back to a loop of “We’re not in Kansas anymore.” everytime I tried to track your IP was impressive. I couldn’t even be mad about it.” 
“Clearly not that impressive because you found me.” 
“Still took me longer than usual, which is saying a lot.” 
“This is a really long winded conversation if you’re just here to arrest me.” You say, taking off your apron. No use in keeping it on if you were going to be in handcuffs soon. 
“That’s because I’m not here to arrest you. I’m here to offer you a job, to work under me as a Tech Analyst in the Behavioral Analysis Unit of the FBI.” Penelope says. 
“And if I don’t want to?” 
“Then you’re going to want a lawyer and my very good handsome friend outside is going to arrest you. You’re smart and you have a chance to help people which is why you started hacking in the first place, right? Please don’t make me do that.” She looked at you pleadingly like she really cared and didn’t want you to go to prison. You didn’t say anything but something told you she’d been in the same boat as you before. 
“Hmmm…. I’m tired of waiting tables anyway.” 
So you uprooted your life and moved from Philadelphia to Quantico. Garcia took you under her wing and pretty soon the two of you functioned in her batcave like a well oiled machine. You could do without the constant gore that filled your screens but at the end of the day, you loved what you were doing and you wouldn’t change that for the world. 
The team was an added bonus, it was nice to have your own little found family. Garcia, of course, taking on the role as best friend mere days after your first meeting. You met Derek Morgan right after you agreed to take the job, he’d been there to arrest you and was very glad he wouldn’t have to do that. He told you often about how you reminded him of his sister and he regarded you in the role of younger sister from that day on. The next person you met had been Aaron Hotchner, your new boss. It took him a couple of weeks to warm up to you, you guessed he had a difficulty trusting new people and when he would call you guys for information he would always ask for Garcia instantly instead of you, not very trusting in your skills yet. Though that changed when you had been the one to track down the Unsub once. 
Rossi was easily won over when you told him about your Italian side of the family, specifically your grandmother who loved to cook and left you a lot of recipes. You and him often went back and forth in sharing dishes. Emily and JJ had also been easily won over with one bottle of tequila and a regrettable girls night. 
Then there was Dr. Spencer Reid.     
You had a lot of opinions on Dr. Reid, most of them weren’t good. It wasn’t like you hated him in fact, you’d consider him a friend but the two of you seemed to butt heads on well, everything. Both of you needing to be the smartest in the room and neither of you wanting to admit when you’re wrong will do that though. You still respected Spencer though, he was an extreme asset to the team and he was your best friend’s other best friend so you couldn’t really hate the guy. 
You also didn’t have to like him. 
So you had a good job, good friends, a nice house to live in. You were finally happy, content even. So why did it feel like something was missing? 
The something missing came in a stroller pushed by JJ the next week. 
The last case had been rough. Really rough. So while the team was on their way back you and Garcia hatched a plan for JJ to come visit from maternity leave and surprise everyone with the baby. While you guys were waiting for them to land, Garcia wanted to show JJ something she had gotten her godson so JJ asked if you could watch him and feed him until she got back, which you obviously agreed to. As you were feeding the child his bottle, and his ravioli sized fist wrapped around your finger you realized what had been missing. 
Fuck, you wanted a kid. 
---------------------------------------------------------------------
You told Garcia first, it slipped when she noticed how off you were being. You wanted to have a kid bad now and you knew you didn’t want to wait. Penny tried to convince you that you’d “find the right person” but let’s face it, with this job, long term relationships were few and far inbetween. Plus you didn’t need a man, you had a good job and insurance, you knew you could provide a child with a life full of love it deserved. So you made an appointment at a fertility clinic. As the doctor was talking to you about your options, you felt yourself feeling more and more down about your decision and that only increased as you looked in the book of sperm donors in front of you. You looked at too many serial killers daily that it made you uneasy, carrying a stranger's baby. Maybe Garcia was right and your best bet was to wait for ‘the right guy.’ Even though you really didn’t want to. 
You walked into work later, a little sullen. Heading immediately towards the coffee machine. Penelope, who had been at Derek’s desk, makes a beeline towards you.  
“So how’d it go?” She says, smiling. “Did you make an appointment to be baby-fied?” 
You sigh. “I couldn’t do it, Pen.” You say, frowning. “I just-- We see so much here that I don’t want to accidentally end up with a sociopath’s baby because I couldn’t wait.” 
“But you don’t want to wait, do you?” She says softly, empathizing with you. 
“No, I don’t.” You sigh again, finishing making your cup before walking back out into the bullpen. JJ had brought Henry again for the others to see on the slow paperwork day. You tried not to look bitter but it was like she was flaunting the one thing you couldn’t have, even if it was unintentional. You watched as she handed the baby to Spencer, who instantly smiled and made faces at the laughing baby. 
“Spencer is actually a surprisingly good godfather.” Garcia says, smiling at the exchange in front of you. “Kinda makes you wonder what he’d be like with his own baby geniuses.” She says before walking over to the group and scooping her godson out of Spencer’s arms, Spencer still held on to his fist with his pinky, smiling down at the child. 
“Yea…” You say, to no one in particular. 
You had an idea. A probably bad one. 
-------------------------------------------------------
You were sitting in the coffee shop, nervously fiddling on your laptop while waiting for Spencer. You were surprised he even agreed to meet with you for coffee though you were sure he was just doing it out of curiosity because you told him you had something important to talk about. You weren’t even sure if you were going about this the right way. Hey Spencer, I know we’re not even friends but how would you feel about fathering my child? God, this was going to be terrible. 
You looked up when you heard the tell-tale bell on the door indicating someone walking in. Spencer gave you a small wave before going to the counter to get a coffee. You took that time to nervously sip yours. Your heart was beating a mile a minute, it was now or never. 
“Hey.” Spencer says, when he finally gets to the table, coffee in hand. “Why are you all the way in the corner?” 
“This isn’t really a conversation I want overheard.” 
Spencer tilts his head confused at that. “So what is the conversation we’re supposed to be having. I asked Garcia but she seemed to also have no idea.” 
“Yea, I didn’t tell her on account of this maybe going extremely bad.” You say, before sighing and turning your laptop around so Spencer could see the Powerpoint screen you have on it. When he reads it,  he chokes on his coffee.
“A Powerpoint, really?” He chokes, still coughing around the coffee. “Y/N, what is this?” 
“This is Reasons Why You Should Make a Baby With me.” 
“Yea, I got that from the title, Y/N.” He says, still shocked. “Is this a joke?!” 
“I wish it was, Reid.”
“Can I at least ask why you thought a Powerpoint was the best way to ask?”   
“Because I felt you’d be more inclined to consider it if you knew I spent time on a presentation.” 
“That’s true.” He leans back, taking a sip of his coffee, gesturing for you to continue. You hit the next slide. 
“Ok, reason number one is we both want kids.” You say, looking at him. “Garcia told me the other day that you were talking about how much you wanted a kid and I also want a kid.”  
“I did tell Garcia that.” He muses. 
“Reason two, an offspring between us would probably result in another genius. As you know, you are smart.” 
“Yes.” 
“And I am smarter.” You say, Spencer opens his mouth to protest but you keep talking. “A child between us could probably be the next Einstein.” 
Spencer nods and you continue. “Reason three, I’d be a great mom.” 
“That’s a debatable fact.” 
“No, it’s not. You’ve seen me around kids, have I ever given an inclination that I wouldn’t be?” You ask, he shakes his head. “Plus, I happen to think you’d be a great father. Which brings me to Reason 4.” You say clicking through the next slide. “If you don’t want to be involved in raising that’s fine. I’m perfectly fine raising the child myself an--” 
“What?! No!” Spencer says, sitting up. “If I do agree to have this baby, which I’m not completely doing yet. I want to be involved, I want them to know I’m their father and that I didn’t abandon them because I know what that’s like.” He says, seriously. You nod, already knowing this about Spencer. 
“Reason 5: I’d be the perfect platonic co-parent, I won’t ask you for anything unless it’s pertaining to the child and if you decide that later down the road you want your own family, I’d be supportive and help you along the way.”
Spencer nods. “We’re never home enough for a baby.” 
“That’s where you’re wrong because I’ll be here. I mainly stay here anyway and if there’s ever a case where you need a tech analyst to fly out, Garcia’s already agreed to have it already be her when I floated the baby idea around last month.”  
Spencer hummed, silent for a second. “You really want a kid, huh?” 
“Yes.” You say. 
“So much so you’re asking me?” Spencer says, matter-of-factly. “A Coworker you barely speak to?”
Well, when he says it like that. 
“Yes. I’m asking because while we don’t get along the best you are still one of the most compassionate, understanding men I know. And I know that if I have to raise this kid with somebody, you would love them just as much as I would.” You say, Spencer nods at that. “So, please?” 
Spencer sighs. “When’s your next appointment? At the fertility clinic?” 
You didn’t even want to ask how he knew about that. “Next tuesday.” 
He nods. “I’m going with you.” He says, standing, pulling the strap of his messenger bag over his shoulder. “This isn’t a yes.” 
“It’s not a no, either.” You point out. 
“No, it’s not.” He says, leaving you behind in the coffee shop with a huge grin on your face.
Taglist: @moonshinerbynight​ @crimeshowtrash​
Message/reply to be tagged!!
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barnesbabee · 3 years
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ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ꜱᴇᴠᴇɴ - ᴡᴏɴᴅᴇʀʟᴀɴᴅ
WONDERLAND MASTERLIST ⇜ ᴘʀᴇᴠɪᴏᴜꜱ - ꜱᴇᴠᴇɴ-  ɴᴇxᴛ ⟿
CHARACTER LIST: White Rabbit - Choi Jongho Absolem (Blue Catterpilar) - Kang Yeosang Cheshire Cat - Kim Hongjoong Mad Hatter - Choi San Haigha (March Hare) - Jung Wooyoung Tweedle Dee - Song Mingi Tweedle Dum - Jeong Yunho Bloody Red King - Park Seonghwa
ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ: @myunvillage @mirror-juliet @jess-1404 @earth-to-leiki [Send me a DM, an ask or comment to be added to the tag list]
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"Teach you what?"
"How to be a better man, how to have mercy, and compassion."
Unbeknownst to you, a little purple and pink cat watched every step you took. Of course, it wasn't because he cared. Cheshire (unlike many other Wonderland villagers) genuinely wasn't affected by your presence, or lack there of, but the Hatter had asked him, in exchange of a hefty reward, of course, to keep an eye on his beloved Y/N.
While watching over you Cheshire just did a whole bunch of growling and nose scrunching. He hated the sight of the King, and even worse, was the sight of such a man in love.
"Such a shame to be the bearer of bad news dear friend," Cheshire said, not at bothered by the fact that he had bad news to tell "but it seems as if Y/N will be our new Queen."
The cat twirled a strand of his coloured hair around his index finger, as he fell down onto one of the many chairs along with the Hatter's never-ending table.
The Hatter's eyes widened and so did his toothy smile.
"She's carrying on with the plan! She will decapitate him herself and become our Queen! Oh but I'm so happy I could dance the Futterwacken again!"
He clapped feverously and suggested a toast, clearly missing the meaning of Cheshire's words.
"I'm afraid you missed what I meant, Hatter. She will be our Queen, because she will be marrying the King."
The atmosphere suddenly became silent, eerie even. The Hatter's green, sparkly eyes transformed into an ugly, rage-filled, yellow. The man gripped the teacup on his hand so hard it broke, but the rage, disappointment, and growing heartbreak fogged his brain to the point where he didn't even notice the pain, nor the blood trickling down his palm.
The Hatter was rarely angry, but when he was, it was enough to scare poor Cheshire, who didn't hesitate in disappearing into thin air. Or he tried to. Before every bit of his body could be gone, the Hatter grabbed Cheshire's hair, making the cat groan in pain, and threw him on the ground.
"What has he done to her!? Was it a curse!?"
Cheshire caressed his head and stood up to look at the Hatter.
"It wasn't a curse Hatter, she fell in love. After you deceived her and the King showed her nothing but truth and love, the choice was pretty evident."
The reasonable explanation seemed to calm down the Hatter, whose eyes morphed back into their greenish colour. However the dread and panic in his face were still evident. Cheshire, still quite upset at Hatter's tantrum, could see on his friend's face an expression of someone about to spew a terrible, terrible idea.
"We must get her away from the Palace. It's gotten into her head. Let's get her back to us!"
The man-like cat floated back to his usual place in the air, twirling in the process. He chuckled audibly, showing his sharp canines in the process.
"Hmm yes, let's steal her away from the man she's come to love, so she could be with us, the people who lied to her for our own benefit. Sounds like a party if you ask me..."
"A party!?" Haigha exclaimed, his left eye twitching as he smiled widely at the mention of his favourite hobbie.
"That's where the King's behaviour comes in our favour," the Hatter said, patting Haigha's head so he'd sit back down "once he sees her take her beloved Queen away, he will show his true colours, Remember how scared and freaked out she was last time we saw her? She said he seemed really sweet while talking to her until he eventually snapped. Once he snaps, he will freak out and bring out the tyrant's behaviour and scare her away."
It was hard for Cheshire to admit, but his mad friend's plan wasn't so mad after all. It was possible to accomplish what the Hatter suggested, and there was nothing to lose, you already hated them anyway.
The Hatter slapped his thighs and stood up, fixing his big top hat in the process.
"Shall we go?"
Haigha was already standing up from his seat when Cheshire stopped them.
"Perhaps we should discuss the plan further... Something tells me we might need some help from Absolem and Bayard..."
Sneaking you out past the Card Knights would take a lot of help, and Cheshire had already worked out in his head the escape plan. It would take a little pressure on Absolem, as he managed to care even less about the people around him than Cheshire did, but the cat was sure he could get a shrinking cake out of the blue catterpillar. After shrinking you and hatter down to the size of a strawberry, Bayard (the loyal dog friend of Hatter's, that Cheshire tried his best to keep a distance of) would bring you to the White Rabbit's house, as it would be too obvious to come back to the Hatter's cabin.
The cat had no intention to help you, but he did like to see some drama and commotion in Wonderland once in a while, and this was his chance.
Whilst all of the furious planning went on on the greenlands of Wonderland, in the Palace you and the King sat opposite of each other on his bed, gossiping like two high schoolers.
"And then my best friend at the time, Anna, slept with my boyfriend and said it was 'because of a dare'. I forgave her because we had been friends for so long but then she told my crush that I smelled so I stopped being her friend."
The King nodded along and listened attentively (trying his best to cross his legs just like you, but failing miserably) to your story.
"Hm yes, yes, I understand. My best friend ate one of my tarts so I cut off his head."
You couldn't help but scoff at the way he compared the situations, although you reprehended him right after for the heartless act.
He had asked to know of your previous life, how it was back in your world, and so you sat there reminiscing your past for hours on end. Most people in Wonderland came from other places, but Seonghwa had never been elsewhere, as he was born in the Kingdom.
"So this establishment you call 'school', was it like a club you went to where you reunited with your peers?"
"No, no. School was a mandatory thing for all kids, we went there and a bunch of teachers taught us about different things."
"Hm, but all you've told me so far were anecdotes about these friends of yours, what were these classes like?"
You blushed slightly, realizing that in fact, you didn't remember shit from school, aside from past dramas.
"Well, they told us many things about earth, about what makes the world move, about how society works, and what makes things work. We learned about gravity, about numbers, about stars-"
"Stars!?"
The King's eyes lit up as if he was a child whom you had promised ice cream to.
"Yes, stars. Why?"
Seonghwa stood up from the bed in such a violent manner, he nearly fell. The man ran over to his closet, from where he retrieved an old book. The hard cover was beginning to tear, and the once white pages had become a weird mix of brown and yellow, but you took it in your hands nevertheless.
"This book once fell into the Wonderland when I was a child. I was alone most of the time, so it kept me company. I can tell from the images it talks about the stars, and I think I learned a lot from it since I stared at them a lot, but I cannot comprehend the alien language."
The King leaned against the headboard, and you laid beside him, placing your head on his chest, so you could hear his now nervous heart beating fast from the contact. Out of instinct, the King placed his arm around you and pulled you closer, as you opened the book.
You chuckled slightly, after seeing the author of the book and opening its pages.
"Seonghwa this isn't an alien language, it's Italian. Well, I guess it's an alien language to you, but it was funny that you said it that way... The person who wrote it was very influential back where I'm from, he taught the people of Earth many things about our space."
The male listened carefully as you tried your best to explain the things in the book as best as you could.
"This here is what we call the Solar System. It has nine planets, but only one of them has people, this one, where I live." You told him, pointing towards Earth.
Seonghwa noticed how your posture changed, after you remembered once more that you would never return home again, and panicked for a second. He disliked many things, but your tears had definitely gone up to his number 1 on the list.
"How about I ask for a picnic to be arranged in the garden, and at night we can watch the stars."
You turned to face him and smiled as you nodded. Seonghwa's thumb caressed your arm, and you couldn't help but to place a soft kiss on his lips, as a 'thank you'. No matter how many times you did that, the King never seemed to get used to it. He would always feel butterflies in his stomach and fireworks exploding on his chest. Sometimes you felt perverted, thinking of how he'd react if one day you decided to take it... further. You imagined how pretty he'd look... But you decided to take your time. Baby steps...
The King couldn't wait for dinner time, and you could tell from the number of times he had gone up to the window and pushed away the blinds to see if the sun was finally setting.
As he was staring out the window, you came behind him and wrapped your arms around his figure.
"Can I tell you a secret?"
Seonghwa looked around, to make sure no one was nearby eavesdropping. He wouldn't want your secret to being known.
You tiptoed so your lips could be leveled with his ear.
"You're adorable."
Once you got back down and looked into his gleeful eyes, you smiled.
"Let's keep this secret between us!" He joked along.
"Yes, I wouldn't want the other ladies to know and steal you away."
Seonghwa held your face and lovingly placed a kiss on your forehead.
"The other ladies don't stand a chance next to you princess."
Your cheeks heated up and you slapped his chest out of embarrassment. The King's face grew worried and confused.
"Why did you hit me? Have I done something wrong? It was meant to be a compliment I'm sorry I compared you to-"
You grabbed his face and squished his cheeks, making him form an adorable pout with his red lips.
"Seonghwa, it was a good thing. I slapped your chest because I was embarrassed, I was really touched by your compliment."
Once you let go of his face, the King tapped his chin with his index finger, in a pensive manner.
"I have much to learn about our future interactions, I do not understand many things."
You just chuckled and took his hand in yours.
"We have many years ahead of us, you will learn someday."
The small acknowledgment of your future made Seonghwa very happy. Never in his pitiful life had he even thought of being this happy over small actions... Last week the only thing that brought him joy was the sound of a traitor's head hitting the concrete floors of the palace's main area, but since you arrived, a smile was all it took for his cold heart to start beating again.
It didn't take long before one of the frogmen knocked on the door to inform the picnic was ready. Seonghwa didn't let go of your hand as you walked outside, to sit among the red roses.
You had finally come to terms with Wonderland's weird food. You had no choice really...
"Have you never been attracted to anyone, Seonghwa?" You asked as you munched down on a sandwich of... whatever it was.
Seonghwa's expression faded a little.
"Once. I had just become King and I thought that the next step would, logically, be the find a Queen. Every woman displeased me. All but one. She was beautiful, hair as dark as the night sky, tanned skin from the sun, and a beautiful mole under the eye. But she was cold, evil... I thought that it was a perfect match. After all, I wasn't the most caring person. But she would treat me like a servant. Our relationship was purely to serve a purpose to the Kingdom, nothing else. We slept in separate rooms and spent the day apart. We only dined together, but since I saw the same behavior from my parents I thought that that was love. Our wedding had been scheduled long before she moved into the castle, we were simply waiting for the preparations to be finished. Everything was custom made, from the clothes to the flowers on every table. The day before the wedding I walked to her bedroom and found her laying with a servant of mine. You know, back when they weren't... Frogs. I had them both decapitated, of course. And I swore off love forever. That is until you came along."
You flashed him a sad smile and set down your food. He looked awfully confused as you climbed onto his lap, but he didn't protest.
You brushed his dark hair away from his eyes. Both of them. He suddenly felt very exposed and insecure, but you kissed his cheek, reassuringly.
"Ever since I came down here you've shown me nothing but love, and honesty. You didn't try to sugarcoat who you are, or what you've done, and I appreciate your honesty. My place in Wonderland is with you."
The male smiled, and kissed you, a little more passionately than all of the previous times. The male's hands trailed down your ass, and pulled you on top of his growing erection.
"For someone who has never been with anyone you're quite good at this."
"Well I... I lied. I had a fiancé after all, and we laid together but we didn't get far. There was no kissing involved, she just wanted to get it over with since I was the one who suggested we should... do it. But she made fun of me for not being good at it and I became... insecure. I was insecure and for the longest time I've wanted to try it with you, because you give me those special butterflies but I was afraid I'd disappoint you."
"What a cold, heartless bitch!" You thought to yourself. No wonder he was so bad at human interactions, every relationship he had was a trainwreck!
You grabbed his face and placed a long kiss on his lips.
"Well then, let me lead at first. If you start feeling more confident, you can take the lead, if not, I'll stay in control, okay?"
The King simply nodded and kissed you once more. This time deeper than he had ever kissed anyone. Tongues fighting so intensely the King nearly missed the way your hand expediently undid his trousers. Your hand slipped inside his boxers and took out his length. You looked down at the dick in your hand and widened your eye.
"Well aren't I a lucky girl."
You spat in your hand and kissed him again, as your hand worked up and down his shaft. The King was surprisingly very vocal, and he didn't try to hide or suppress any of his pretty moans (and for that you were thankful.
You stopped your hand, right as he was getting riled up.
"Ready for something better?"
The King watched you strip from your panties, and he cursed the frilly dress that covered your womanhood, but as soon as you sunk down on his cock, all of his worries and anguishes washed away. It was automatic, the way he gripped your hips and made you bounce on him as he snapped your hips against yours was something he did naturally as if he truly knew what he was doing. You brought out something different in him, and the King was simply doing was his body was telling him to do.
You gripped his shoulders, overwhelmed with the feeling of having him inside you.
"S-shit Seonghwa, you're good, r-really fucking good."
"Oh yeah?"
He flipped you two around, so he could pound into you with all the strength he had. Your words of encouragement were all he needed.
Your consistent (and loud) moans got him on the edge quickly, and he knew he wouldn't last long.
"Y/N forgive me, but I don't think I can last much longer."
Your hand reached down and began circling your clit, so when he came inside you, filling you up with his cum, you came right after, with a loud cry for his name.
Seonghwa laid on top of you, his face nuzzled on the crook of your neck, trying to regain his breath. You ran your hand through his hair as you did the same, looking up at the sky.
"The stars sure look beautiful today."
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Note
Imagine if the suitors went to the beach for a whole day in the modern world...what crazy crap do you think will happen
Here are a handful of crazy and/or cute headcanons that came to mind! :D
-Mozart swatting away seagulls because HE IS TRYING TO EAT IN PEACE
-Jeanne watching him, MC offering him two water guns with a silent nod (sunglasses on, we’re going full meme)
-Jeanne then proceeds to shoot at them (no gulls were harmed in making of this promotional video) and his aim is impeccable it would be disturbing if the thwarted squawking wasn’t so funny
-Little kids start swarming around Jeanne asking how he’s so amazing and wanting to play team battles, inviting him to join
-Napoleon encourages him, and even Mozart joins in despite not liking getting wet very much (he wants Jeanne to have some positive fun times bc he BIIIIIIIG depressy)
-In the end they both admit to having fun, and one of the kids even teaches Jeanne a special ten step handshake (Jeanne has no idea what that was but the kiddo was smiling so he figured he’d go with it)
-HE AND MOZART STILL SECRETLY USE THE HANDSHAKE FOR FUNSIES BUT TELL NO ONE BECAUSE THEY DON’T LIKE F U N DON’T LOOK AT THEM
-Dazai, alternatively, gathers the fallen gull army and becomes their god with a singular cylinder of Pringles. No I will not elaborate--THE SEA GULLS GOT HER!!!!!!!!
-Spends most of the beach day wetting his feet in the tide pools and talking very earnestly to the gulls about this new thing he learned about called tax evasion while people pass by this fucker in full kimono at the beach and are convinced he’s lost it
-Dazai is very much not sane but we knew this already, offers sea shells to little kids that ask him what he’s doing and tells them to listen to the secrets bird friends can tell them
-If Dazai sounds like an Animal Crossing Villager, that was entirely by accident but remains no less true
-Surprising absolutely no one, Arthur suggests volley ball after watching people play and invites some pretty ladies to join him
-Arthur ends up needing two more people to play, so he invites Vincent and Theo (Vincent is so excited about trying something new that Theo can’t say no despite wanting to make a volleyball-shaped crater in Arthur’s face)
-The funniest part about the volleyball game is that not only is Arthur a shit player (CANON WEAK ARMS FOOL) Theo destroys with his spikes, and Vincent’s reach is insane--the two brothers end up becoming the talk of the beach
-I just laugh imagining Vincent sincerely complimenting people around him and the ladies swooning because he’s just so nice and pretty is he even real
-Men aren’t happy about that^TM but at the sight of Theo’s defensive glower they keep their malicious traps shut--which turn on whichever girls weren’t interested in Vincent jahkslgjh
-**Kaguyasama narrator voice** Today on Arthur Shenanigans: Arthur loses
-Poor Isaac is hiding under the umbrella clutching sunscreen bc HE IS A PASTY BOY HELP HIM
-MC brought a few of the newest Maths/Physics books in her time for him to read, and while he doesn’t enjoy the intensity of the sun--not like vamp weakness, it’s just the strain on his body (too many stimuli too many people too much noise) that makes him tired and ultimately thirsty bc aberrant. But the change of scenery's not so bad.......
-MC laughs when she gets out of the water and the salt dries visibly on her skin, Isaac’s eyes bug out and he asks if it hurts (startles when Leo flicks sea water at him and asks how on earth they got in the water when it’s so cold!!!)
-Leo chats with him and he likes being able to draw theorems and the like in the sand, it’s like one big chalkboard (until a kid tramples across them in the middle of writing, POPPYCOCK!). Isaac ultimately has fun but prefers to stay inside poor bub
-Leonardo, surprising no one, falls asleep in the sand the second he gets there HE IS HOME (Italian beaches, amirite)
-MC decides to, after a point, bury him fully in the sand for shits
-Comte notices and aids in her shenanigans from his beach chair, snickering the whole time
-When the two are satisfied they go for a swim together, trusting Leo to look after Isaac if need be (even if he’s a mummy rn)
-Comte is relieved to hear that she knows how to swim, but also watches carefully and doesn’t let her drift out too far by keeping closer to the shore himself (riptides!!!! can be!!!!!!! dangerous!!!!!!!!!!) if he had his way (he would never impose but he worries ;-;) she’d be wearing floaties SAFETY FIRST
-They splash at each other like maniacs and chat amiably until they start swimming away as fast as possible when Leo wakes up, laughing
-How do we know that Leo woke up?
-Because he sat up ramrod straight and a tower of sand fell. He then proceeded to jump up and sprint to the water despite Isaac’s startled cries about being careful, and swam after them like a shark to get his revenge (it was like something out of an anime s2g)
-Mostly just tugs on MC’s leg, picks her up in the water, and yeets her across in retaliation; really harmless, she’s cackling the whole time
-Dunks Comte’s head in the water while he’s being scolded, and MC has to de-escalate their increasingly dangerous shenanigans before the life guard comes after them LMFAO
-They concede only bc MC looks sad/worried abt being kicked out, and agree to keep things fun FIGHT TO THE DEATH LATER TONIGHT
-Napoleon goes for a nice long walk along the shoreline and climbs the rocks if he finds any til he gets to the top (he does not go to his happy place HE GOES TO HIS HIGH LONESOME PLACE) wishes that Jupiter could be here to enjoy the brine
-Our boy Napoleon is simply just vibin he loves the beach. A little further off the sound of people is p muted, it’s just the crashing waves and crisp smell of salt, the light breeze ruffling his hair 
-Sebas is absolutely watching through binoculars and writing down how majestic Napoleon is while making sure no one gets lost/wrecked as he takes notes
Bonus: since volleyball games can often happen back to back on a sizable beach, the boys^TM were playing and Arthur called out “Theo duck!!!!” and just as Theo was saying “Are you fucking kidding me did you really think I’d--T H W A C K” Theo gets nailed in the back of the head (Arthur later died after being put in a headlock)
Shakespeare didn’t feel like playing volley ball and didn’t have much else to do (can’t swim and has no interest), so he just sat back and tried to throw Theo off his game as much as possible 
Por ejemplo: Theo misses a serve and Shakespeare just “For never was there a story of more woe; O bard Alexa, verily, play us Despacito” “SHUT THE FUCK UP”
Jeanne also gets hit by a stray volley ball, but when Vincent said “Oh no, Jeanne, duck!” he has one of either two reactions: 1. Boulevard of Broken Dreams plays obnoxiously loud as he dodges inhumanly fast 2. he quacks, gets nailed, and doesn’t react because he doesn’t have any brain cells to damage
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fafulous · 4 years
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Take Me Home (4/5)
Andy Barber x Reader (Post!Defending Jacob)
Summary: After the unfortunate events of the trial and after, a depressed Andy Barber decides to call it quits and start a mundane life far away from Newton. He decides it is best to have a fresh start away from prying eyes and alone, but he never thought his caring neighbor (and her son) would change all of that.
Chapter Warnings: MAJOR D.J. SPOILERS (BOOK Ending), Reminiscing the Loss of a loved one.
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Andy soon came to realise that walking out on you was never ever really a solution. In reality he knew with his current state, without you he was doomed.
He needed you because he has no one. He needed you because it was his chance at something new; something no one would understand.
He needs you because in between all those shenanigans in these few months, he was falling hard for you.
But he did what he had to that day because he just wanted some space. In his head it seemed to be fine, but alas it hurt like a bitch.
On the other hand, Nikolai had no idea what was going on. It only took him minutes to fall in love with his new room. The lights, the colour of the room made him so jubilant, later on only to see you a bit unhappy. You were able to deflect from your son’s questions, but how on earth were you going to tell him that Andy won’t be meeting him anymore.
It hurt. So hard. All you needed was one conversation with him to settle things away but he wanted his space and so you half heartedly respected it.
Nikolai on the other hand was hitting a real low seeing you unhappy the whole day sporting stuffy red eyes. Like any other kid, Nikolai jumped to the conclusion that their mother is crying because she got a boo-boo or lost her favourite toy.
But that little brain of his pieced it slowly once he realised Andy never visited them for any of the dinner nights.
“Mommy pwese don’t cwy” his nimble fingers wiping your fat tears rolling down your cheek.
“I know peaches. I’m trying so hard to get Andy back okay. I’m sorry for crying around you like this baby.”
“B-but Wandi pwomised he neva gonna hurt you mommi…”
“Oh Niko,” you wiped the cookie crumbs around his tiny lips, “Your little brain won’t get it. It’s okay.”
“No. Not owkay. Wandi hurt you. Wandi bad. I don’t wike Wandi cahr now.”
You couldn’t help but surpass a giggle. “Niko. Andy is never bad. Never. He is just feeling sad and lonely. We just need to tell him we have him and love him okay?”
Love? Too soon. Maybe it’s more than like but it was too late to change it for your son and for yourself. You always saw how Niko’s eyes sparkled whenever Andy was around; he was soon accepting him to be a member of the household.
“Owkay,” he dug his head to your neck, “I wike Wandi and his cahr.”
The following week were hard for you and him. From sharing couches to kisses, now the only thing you both shared were small talks.
Yes. Small Talk. Or texts rather.
Andy told you he finally found a therapist to speak to and slowly expressed his wish to still visit Nikolai till you both figured out what was happening between you two.
Why did this have to get so complicated?
You on the other hand replied he was free to do so because to be real, the little kid missed him too. So, the next day he asked you for permission if he could take Nikolai on a car drive.
You had no idea what would go on in his head at times. From seeing Andy’s perspective, he was denied of the choice of telling you his story. It was his fucked-up childhood, his story that he wanted to tell you. Not a pity tatter-tale gossip story that was to be heard from your characterless, ex-husband.
Andy later in the evening sent a message that he was ready, and you saw the man your heart so longed for.
His eyes were back to being sunken, those blue irises not having the guts to meet yours. His hair was ruffled like he just woke up from a nap. Looking at him made you realise how much your hands were twitching to just hug him. You were reminded of the first night you spent at his house; that blue sweater he gave you while you two made out on his couch for the first time was now worn by him.
You walked towards him as you held Nikolai’s convertible baby seat to be fixed in his car and he was kind enough to open the door for you.
Andy on the other hand knew he had to- no, wanted to strike a conversation with you; but didn’t know what to say.
Hey long time huh?
Y/N. Hey, how are you?
Hey listen…
Nope nothing came out of his mouth while you fixed the seat.
He took in your appearance too; that ray of sunshine that beamed from your smile was non-existent; replaced with a forlorn look that he hated to see on you. The past few days were definitely much harsher on you than it was for him. Andy knew he couldn’t get any more foolish. He had to get back to what you two had before.
He needed it.
“Have we gone back to square one? Because of what? My ex-husband?”
Andy came out of his tiny reverie and focussed back on you. He didn’t pay attention, but he did realise you said something bitter that meant to sting him.
“Honey listen-”
“Oh, don’t you honey me Andy. How could you? How could you be so- so-“ you tried so hard to not break into a stream of tears.
How could you be so hateful to yourself Andy? Did you not trust me?
“How could you just desert me like that? D-did you think I was going to throw away my second chance at life for something you father did? Did you want to throw away your second chance at life because of your father who has no role in our lives right now?”
He sighed dejectedly, disappointed with himself. Hearing your voice break wrecked him, “I know Y/N. I was an asshole that day, leaving you without an explanation.” He found himself taking steps towards you and cupping your cheek, tilting his forehead onto yours, “I am so sorry hon- Y/N. I am sorry.”
You bit your lip and looked up at him, his eyes still closed; now content that he and you could just touch each other after a very long time.
Any other situation, you wouldn’t let a man walkover you so easily after fucking up. But this was Andy. The man who made you believe in second chances. You gave him a first chance already, and now it was again your turn to give him one more.
“You weren’t an asshole Andy,” you held on to his hands, “Its just, I don’t know…”
“I know you know exactly what you want to say Y/N. Just say it.”
You could hear Nikolai running around his circles with his unicorn plush doll behind you, “I was angry when you left, but at the same time I tried to understand your point of view, your emotions and your feelings about this whole situation. But I think or- or I know that I didn’t deserve to be ghosted like that Andy, because I liked you for you, not what your father did, especially when we had something so good going on.”
He removed his hand from your cheeks and looked down like a disappointed child. He knew he was at fault and so he didn’t say anything; head hung in shame looking at the little, carefree boy that he loved so dearly.
“It’s only had if you want it to be,”
“What do you mean?”
You saw a glint of that eagerness that Andy always had with you before, “I told that we had something good going on? It’s only had if you want it to be…“
Andy took some time to find his words. Again. It was the second time he fucked up so bad and here you were, taking him back even after he exploded like a mine. Was this woman for real?
“Of course, I want this honey. I always want us. You’re always so good to me.”
He reached out to graze your cheeks, but he was blocked by your squealing son.
“Cahr Wandi! Can we gooo?”
You were surprised that you weren’t interrupted by your son sooner, but nevertheless your son’s new founded patience was found to be a blessing in disguise.
The cutest sight unfurled before you as Andy made grabby hands at your son, only for the latter to be scooped into Andy’s arms like a cocoon.
“Come on Y/N, join us wont you? For a drive?”
You shook your head, “I think I’ll pass.”
“Y/N. I want to really make it up to you. Like real time. Please come with us?”
“I know Andy, but who will make dinner if I come along with you boys?”
Andy slowly grinned at your implications. He never ceased to be impressed by your gracious generosity and the small acts of kindness.
“I’m not mad, not as much as I was before I promise,” you dared to but tiptoed to place a kiss on his cheek, “We can talk over dinner today.” You saw how his cheek sported a cherry red tint, slowly creeping up till his ear. A teenager in a old man’s body.
“Peaches,” you turned to your son right now jumped into Andy’s arms, nuzzling his face in that soft sweater, “Be good and behave okay peaches? Don’t trouble Wandi- I mean Andy for anything on the way okay?”
Everything drowned inside a chorus of laughter when Andy realised how you had called his name. Niko had no idea what the humour was for but joined the chorus when he found his two most favourite people in the world giggling.
Were you forgoing all that pent-up sadness that this man gave you this week? Yes. Yes you were.
And you would soon realise that it was the best decision you made.
Hours passed by and the boys came back home. Nikolai was gleefully pulling onto Andy’s beard and curiously asking him when he was going to get a ‘bweard’ like him and heard both the boys animatedly inhaling; the smell of aromatic food that stirring their tummies.
“MOMMY IS MAKING PAWSTAHH!”
Andy was so confused. You always made the best Italian food for your child.
“Let’s just say after that episode we had with Chad, I was cooking boring greens and ordering takeout for the little one and me. I lost the will to cook. Thought I’ll revive the poor kid’s taste buds.”
It was always these small gestures that pulled you towards Andy; like this one. He tugged you by your shoulders and placed a soft kiss on your forehead and then cupped your cheeks so lovingly.
“Sorry Momma bear.”
“Shhh. It’s okay grumpy cat,” you winked.
Dinner on the other hand did go relatively smooth than you expected it to. Andy explained himself, his feelings and what he felt that day when he left you and tried his level best to process your emotional state that day.
The baked pasta was licked clean by your two boys and you while Andy also spoke about his past few days with his therapist, who seemed to help him more than he possibly could ever think of. Over a glass of wine, Andy held your hand promising you that he wouldn’t do any more foolish stunts that ended up hurting all of us in the process.
But as you and Andy were doing and drying the dishes, you felt that he was holding back something.
“You’re doing that thing.”
“What thing.”
“That thing you used to do when I used to pick movies that you don’t like.”
His grin could make your whole body mushy and soft like a teenager having their first crush “So? Is that my fault honey?” he feigned hurt, glad that he could now call you back with his favourite sweet name.
“Nah,” you playfully tapped his shoulder. “You give me that look so prominently so that I understand that you want something from me, or you want me to do something for you.”
Andy looked so lost and you knew something was biting his thoughts because he enjoyed doing domestic chores with you; his favourite being you washing the dishes and him drying them out and keeping them inside the cupboards. He didn’t reply until the last wine glass was kept inside the cabinet
“It’s just-” hesitated Andy. You waited patiently for him to find his words.
“It’s about Jacob.”
“Oh.”
For a startling few seconds, you held your breath; thinking about Andy’s son was something wrecked your thoughts and heart every single time.
“My therapist says that I haven’t, you know, fully processed Jacob’s death. Like I’m holding on to something. But parents don’t, right? They can’t move on from their child’s death right? It’s practically impossible.”
You weren’t sure what to say but you nodded, gripping on to his arm and gesturing to sit with you to the couch where little Niko dozed off with two of his stuffed dolls clenched in his hand.
“But she did say one statement that made sense to me, I don’t know. It made sense about how we can’t forget our children who are no longer with us but we can learn to accept the fact that they are no longer with us.”
Oh bub, how much have you been through? “Do you agree with this Andy?” You asked him to keep yourself strong during this conversation for him, and you did.
“Of course, yeah. Maybe. But the thing is I think I haven’t accepted it honey.”
You took both of his hands and squeezed reassuringly, “I have no idea what you are going through bub but I’m glad you are talking to me about this. Take your time; its going to be hard, but I’m right here okay? Whatever you need, I’ll do within my best ability.”
He hummed, but still hesitant.
“Andy its okay, tell me. Talk to me bub.”
He squeezed your palms even more tightly, turning towards you completely. “C-can I ask you a favour? I mean you can say no, I will understand.”
I’m ready to give you all the happiness in the world to you bubba. “Anything for you Andy? Tell me now.”
He didn’t meet your gaze, but instead shifting his focus to trace your knuckles, “My therapist told me to visit Jacob’s grave whenever I was ready, to mourn him, to accept he is no longer with me and you know…talk to him I guess. To process my emotions. And um…Oh god I am a bubbling mess Y/N.”
“Hey its okay baby take your time. There is no pressure.”
“I can’t do this alone honey…I need you there with me. Can you come with me to the graveyard?”
How could you ever say no to this solemn situation?
“Of course, honey. Absolutely anything you need.”
And what seemed like after ages, Andy Barber enveloped you into his signature bear hug. Both of you left a huge sigh of breath, relief washing over that both of you were slowly getting back on track.
Until you heard a rugged whimpers from the little boy beside Andy.
You didn’t want to tell Andy about this, but Nikolai’s nightmares were back and the little boy was finding it difficult to sleep at night. The new nursery still did not work for him, so he ended up sleeping on top of your chest; your heartbeat probably soothing him to sleep.
But Andy the experienced father he was, quickly scooped him into his arms and started cradling him, rocking him side by side with his arms protecting him, humming a familiar soft tune that seemed to calm you in the process too. You saw how Niko’s head was cushioned between Andy’s pecs and muscles, slowly relaxing and nuzzling into his touch.
Niko’s scrunched up face was now back to a peaceful baby lost in slumber. 
Andy met your gaze and blinked at you with a smile and it conveyed so much than you think.
We got this baby. We all gonna get through this.
The decision to take Nikolai along with you and Andy was refuted by the latter saying that a young boy like him shouldn’t be visiting such desolate place.
“Children are the embodiment of new birth, new life. And graveyards, quite opposite.”
But you knew secretly he also didn’t was your son to see him in such a vulnerable position. You were grateful for the fact that the rough patch between you and Andy was solved; for the little boy saw Andy as his new father figure with Chad gone away with a new girlfriend.
Talking about Chad, he did not make efforts to meet his son; and you didn’t bother contacting him. Better off without him you wondered.
The drive to Jacob’s grave was a couple of hours away and ride in itself was a quiet one. Andy and you were informally dressed in dull colours, hearts dull too. You knew it was a big step for Andy and you were going to support him till he thinks he is over it. Car windows were rolled down, the fresh air making efforts to refresh you both.
You could also see Andy’s urge to interlink his hands with you while your drove and you did; Gripping onto his palm or occasionally rubbing his shoulders or thighs throughout the ride would help him calm down and relax his creased forehead.
When you both got down from the car it was so hard to read Andy’s thoughts. He came over to you and interlinked your palms and made way to the place where his son was buried.
Jacob’s grave was flowerless when arrived. Andy soon fixed that after leaving a wreath of Jacob’s most favourite flowers, daisies.
A graveyard, a place of death, sprouting trees filled with life here and there. The irony of life.
You didn’t know the boy but the aura of the graveyard, the impersonal feeling towards the dead even though you have no idea who they were beneath the stones made you heart sink. It then came to your senses.
The boy was just fourteen.
Both of you sat down near his grave, not caring about the grass and mud staining your clothes. He finally took away his palms from yours.
Andy spoke some kind words, rekindling memories of his son’s favourite pastime, his favourite stories and one of his embarrassing yet kind-hearted moments. He sought an apology on behalf of his mother, trying to make Jacob understand that his mother loved him so much, that it unfortunately ended tragically.
Another thought popped into your head, how couples these days separate over trivial matters, over materialistic matters, and infidelity. But Andy? He separated because his wife- No no. You didn’t want to complete that thought.
But after a while passed and you decided give Andy some needed space. He was probably going to be anxious, but it was for the best.
“Andy, you feel a bit better?” you whispered.
“You can say probably.”
Here we go. “I’m going to leave you two alone okay?”
“What? Honey. If I can’t-”
“You can Andy. He is your son, remember that. So, don’t hold back. I know you wanted me to be here with you and I did and I’m so proud of you, bubba,” you stroked his hair. “But unintentionally you may be holding back on expressing because I’m here and that’s normal.”
Why are you so good to me?
“I’m just going to be near the parking lot okay? I’m not going anywhere,” you reassured him with a peck on his cheek and made your way back.
You shed your tears while you sat inside his car, thinking about the little boy. It was difficult thinking of losing a loved one that you gave birth to. He was too young. Too fucking young.
Oh, this cruel world, how you hated it so immensely right now.
Half hour passed by and you saw Andy making his way towards the car. It was so strange to think of this, but he didn’t look red eye rimmed like you; he looked the same with much more solemnity. He didn’t cry and that slightly bothered you. Maybe you had to accept the fact that different people process emotions differently.
He got into the car and took in your red eyes. He knew you had cried. Seeing you like that made his pull your lips onto his for just a chaste kiss, the first time you two felt each other’s lips after an eon. All he breathed into your lips was that we are going to be okay and drove back home with no word exchanged. For the upcoming hours, the fresh air offered you comfort, drying out those spilt tears along with the lingering touch of his palms; interlinked like their souls.
After coming back, you took advantage of Andy’s silence and maneuvered him to your home. He seated himself on the couch pulling out his phone and wallet from his pants and placed it on the coffee table.; trying to steal a quick nap while you picked up Nikolai from your neighbour Mr. Arthur.
Andy sleeping gave you an immense sense of peace, but for the little boy in your hands; not so much.
“WANDI!!!!”
He groggily woke up thanks to Nikolai running towards him, lying on his chest like he does with you. “Hey buddy.”
“You home yaay!” Probably meant that he was excited to see the man in house like the usual dinner nights. Nikolai calling him and telling he was home pricked him and at the same time felt so right. As cliché as it sounds, he always has heard this quote where Home is never a place with four walls to cover your head; home is where the heart is.
His heart was with you and Nikolai.
After eating Andy, and you began to do your dish washing routine, this time he washing the dishes. He was slow, but that was alright, you had all the time in the world.
Niko on the other hand was singing all the rhymes he learnt from daycare in different pitches, earning a chuckle from the both of you here and there. He was also carelessly playing with Andy’s phone and wallet, both of you seeing that the little boy had dropped all the contents of the wallet on to the floor. Once they were done Andy picked up the falling things patiently without chiding the little one like any other adult would. 
He picked up his Dollar bills, receipts and then a forgotten thin strip of a photo roll.
It was him and Jacob.
The roll had four pictures of him and his son posing for the silliest pictures, the first three with their tongues sticking out in the goofiest angle possible. The last one however was so pure; Andy giving a  forehead kiss to Jacob because he was so proud of his son, remembering he had bagged the highest grade in English that term in school.
Minutes pass and he didn’t notice his waterworks brimming. A blink and they would fall down.
And they did, when he heard Nikolai nudging him by the thigh. “Why you cwyin Wandi?”
That startled you enough to stop whatever it was you were doing and went to see what was happening.
Oh bubba.
You sat near Andy, touching his thigh for comfort while your son got closer to the photo that was in Andy’s slightly quaking hands.
“Who that Wandi?”
“Th-thats my son buddy. His name was Jacob.”
“Can he play with me Wandi?”
Everything just pricked. The boy’s innocent questions and Andy’s realisation of his emotions. This was too much to bear.
“No buddy he can’t-“
A hand around his shoulder, it was you. When he looked up his eyes were blurry from the tears that were falling. He was so upset he didn’t even realise you were next to him. It was you. Only you.
It was then you realised it finally that it hit Andrew that his son was dead.
“You don’t have to answer that Andy. He’s just a kid. It’s okay.”
The little one feeling that he had said something wrong hugged his arms with his little arms. “I’m sowwy Wandi. Don’t cwy.”
“I’m not buddy, I-I’m not.” He reassured the kid, and falsely assuring himself too.
“Wandi, I’m feelin sleepy…” “Yeah, let’s get you to bed buddy,” he cooed with his quivering voice.
“Andy I’ll take him-” But he refused to and took the child. You took a few minutes to pull yourself together after witnessing Andy so vulnerable. Even in these moments, he took care of your son. When you reached the nursery, Andy was whispering a lullaby to a dozed off Niko for a good ten minutes. He even spoke to the little boy, telling him that the measly Audi car painting he did in the room was going to protect him and his nightmares; and the boy believed because Andy said so.
Few minutes later and Andy didn’t refuse to hold back.
“I held Jacob like Nikolai, put him to sleep like Nikolai. My sweet precious baby,  my innocent child Jacob. He didn’t do anything and he is away from me Y/N. Far far away-”
Andy let out a loud whimpering cry, the sound swallowed when he buried his head into your neck and your tears began streaming, him sobbing uncontrollably the next minute.
Andy and your tears began streaming; you pulled yourself together soon but Andy? He was weeping uncontrollably. You only could take him in your arms and offer him comfort. No words could heal his wounds instantly. He buried his face into your neck, his safe place, which made you remember the initial days with Andy when he lent a shoulder when you cried. Now it was your turn.
You whispered in ears how it was best not to do this near Niko and maneuvered Andy to your room. He held onto your arms as you took him to your room. You urged Andy to talk to you if the visit to the grave was still bothering him. He sought recluse in your safe place again, lying down on the bed, head tucked in your neck.
“Andy you can tell me anything. I promise it won’t affect whatever is between us.”
It was too twisted, he was distraught. He ranted about Laurie and how she unravelled into killing her own son. He slipped some details of how Laurie always kept bringing up past incidents of his son to prove that Jacob was the possible killer. He kept blaming himself that he was too weary with Laurie and that he should’ve seen her actions. Your whole body pricked; he was crying as he said all this.
You couldn’t imagine Nikolai and yourself in that situation. It brought tears to you eyes but wiped them off before he could see it. You let him talk as much as he wanted to, calming and soothing Andy in the process, running your fingers through his hair gently. You comforted him as much as you could and kept reminding yourself that this was the first time he came to his senses and realised he was crying out for his dead son; and so you were patient.
“My own wife murdered him Y/N. My Jacob. If I had been more attentive”
“Shhhhh Andy,” you cooed into his ear “Your circumstances were horrible. Don’t blame yourself bubba, none of this was your fault okay? Jacob’s death was out of your hands, it was an unfortunate accident Andy.“
Andy could stay all day in your embrace, his head on your gentle shoulders while your soft hair caresses made him doze off to sleep.
But his head felt like it was going to explode and he couldn’t let you see that.
“I’m going back home honey. I think I need to be alone tonight. I- I am not abandoning you okay, I promise, I’ll be okay tomorrow.”
“Andy are you sure? Stay with me, I don’t want to leave you alone.”
“I- I think I need to be alone for sometime you know? Please don’t be upset.”
“I’m never ever upset okay? As long as you are sure bubba; whatever you think is best for you okay? This house is always open to you.”
Kisses on the cheek were exchanged before he left your home. But you stayed awake, in the hopes he’ll be back because deep down you knew, he needed you.
You would give him space, and why not?
He was your home.
Andy soon realised he couldn’t. Staying alone was the worst decision he made.
Yes he did get the desired space he absolutely needed for like an hour and he did try to cease his crying, but his heart, oh his heart was pounding like nobody’s business. Anxious. Alone. Not cared for.
The walls of his room closed around him, his breathing becoming rugged, the laughter of his dead son echoing in his head. But he remembered he was cared for. By you. He had only you now.
He wanted, needed your soothing embraces, your kind words, your optimism, your affection. Everything.
He just wanted you now.
He had to forget.  It was a bit past midnight, but it was you. His reliable rock; soon to become the love of his life. He had to forget what he was going though and in a moment of desperation, he texted you. His thought was confirmed, you would always be there for him.
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Last and Final Part 5 on its way :)
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darklightmiwxo · 3 years
Text
Mcr history
[B]MCR HISTORY IN DETAIL:
This is MCR history it is long and in details. This is different since I'm adding many details that not many people know. Hopefully you will enjoy this. I worked hard on this. These I found in websites,videos,fandoms,MCR magazines,etc. From baby to today but by dates.
[B]Babies/young kids:
[I]Gerard way/Mikey way :
Gerard Way was born on April 9th 1977 in New Jersey. He is half Italian. He later on had a back problem that affected him for the rest of his life (scoliosis) Gerard is allergic to cats. Mikey way was born September 10th 1980. Gerard and Mikey were very close to each other. They became best friends. Gerard and Mikey couldn't go outside and play with other kids since new jersey was very dangerous with murders and kidnapping happening often so Gerard and Mikey would just play with each other. Ms Way said that when Gerard ran mikey try to learn to walk but instead he try to run but he fell on his face. Gerard and Mikey grandma help them get into art she would give them papers and markers for them to use.
Here is baby Gerard and mikey:
[IMG=STQ]
[IMG=KJ5]
[IMG=M8K]
[I]Frank iero:
[IMG=UBP]
[IMG=I87]
Frank was born on October 31 1981 in New Jersey. Who has Italian in his blood. Frank was a only child. His parents divorced when he was very young.Frank's dad and grandfather played drums in their own band. Frank went to the hospital a lot and had lots of health problems he had ear infections, broncadus and he has a weak immune system he also had asma. Frank became a vegetarian when he found out about animals getting killed so he decided to not eat meat anymore.
Frank visited his dad only in the weekends he would take him to bars so Frank would watch him play. Frank's mom was poor she couldn't even buy milk which was said by Frank.
[I]Ray toro:
[IMG=2LH]
Ray toro was born on July 15 1977 in New Jersey. He is Puerto Rican. He has 2 older brothers. Ray couldn't go outside to play with kids since new jersey was too dangerous.
[B]Kids:
[I]Gerard way/Mikey way:
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[IMG=LA9]
[IMG=40Y]
[IMG=PIN]
Gerard and Mikey went to the same schools. Gerard would often draw since he loved to draw. Gerard and Mikey often share music to each other. Gerard was bullied badly at school that he had to change school. Gerard joined to be part of a play at his new school he was Peter Pan. He sang his part on stage. Later on middle school started and Gerard and Mikey stayed in the same school but they both deal with bullying.
[I]Frank Iero:
[IMG=HHZ]
Frank was bullied often at school. He went to hospitals often still. He is very close to his mother. Frank's father made Frank try to plays some drums but he didn't want to play drums he wanted to play guitar so they gave him a guitar he played a few notes. frank self taught himself.
[I]Ray toro:
His older brother knew how to play guitar he would often give CDs for Ray to hear. His brother taught him how to play guitar and Ray learned guitar.
[B]Teenagers:
[IMG=ZJE]
[I]Gerard Way:
Gerard Way learned to play a little bit of guitar. he gotten really good at drawing. He joined a band in high school but he got kicked out for not playing a song they wanted. He also wasn't good at guitar. So Gerard and a friend of him made a comic book together. But some how they couldn't sell it in a comic book store. Gerard spread all summer copying another art style of another comic book but soon he made his own style. Gerard was still bullied at school.
[I]Mikey way:
he dreamed to be in a band and it was always his dream.
[I]Frank Iero:
Frank played guitar well he would often get beaten up at school. Frank created a band called pencey prep with his school friends.
[I]Ray Toro:
Ray toro became a pro guitarist he learned to play metallica songs.
[B]Young Adults:
[I]Gerard:
He went to art school after he finished high school. They taught him some things. Gerard met a friend who introduce him to Ray Toro. Gerard art did well that he worked for cartoon network to make a tv show. Gerard was drawing for a show He was working on a show called the breakfast monkey show. Gerard and Ray made a song together for the show. The intro of the song. On September 11th 2001 Gerard went to New York for a final meeting for the tv show. On his way to the meeting he saw a plane hit a tower. Then another plane hit the other tower. Gerard watched people around him cry and with fear but Gerard said he didn't sad. He was afraid of what was going to happen to the world he though are you happy where your life is right now. Is this really important. So the meeting was canceled. Gerard went home and wrote the first MCR song "Skylines and turnstiles". Gerard met Oliver who worked at a bar he was his friend and he often chatted with him. Gerard asked him if he could be part of his band he was making.
[I]Ray toro:
Gerard called him. Ray haven't seen Gerard for a while since Gerard was always in his house avoiding human contact. He asked Ray if he could be part of his band. He told him to come over to check out what they were making he didn't have to join but he wanted him to come over. So Ray went over to Oliver's house. Gerard showed him the song he was making Ray joined the band.
[I]Mikey Way:
Mikey heard of gerards band. He heard their music and he loved it that he took bass classes and joined the band.
[I]Gerard way:
The band created a few songs then they went to eyeball records they were outside their door and they asked them if they could be signed they gave them their music for the label to hear. The label loved it so they signed them. A radio host who was there heard of the band and he said he will put them on the radio which he did and it gain them fans.
The band didn't have a name.
Gerard and Mikey worked in Barnes and novel. Gerard worked in the music area while mikey worked in the book area. Mikey one day looked behind a book and the reviews said tales of chemical romance so mikey thought what if you put my in front of it. Mikey told Gerard his idea and Gerard loved it he thought it fit the band with their music and the band in general.
[I]Frank iero:
Frank worked on a album for pencey prep once he was done they sign with eyeball record and started to do tours. Frank once went to a party and he saw a woman fighting with another woman she punch the girls face. Frank fell in love with the girl that girls name was jamia.
Frank heard of MCR since the label would gave random CDs to the bands part of the label. Frank said we often hear Mcr demos in the car when we go around town to do shows.
[B]Bullet era:
Gerard went to a bar with mikey and Alex from eye ball. They went for a drink. Gerard saw pencey prep playing their show. Gerard Said he was amazed by Frank who was destroying the stage with the energy he had he looked like he was playing for thousands of people and that was what the band needed. Gerard knew they needed a new guitarist since he couldn't play guitar. He met the kid and they became friends.
Pencey prep would often travel to many states in a podcast Frank said that pencey prep would work on their music in each other's parents basement. They rented a building in a warehouse which was shared with other bands they knew mcr during this time. They would play music in a small room in that place even one of the band members live in that place with some other band member of a different band. One day one of the members of pencey prep broken down the wall of the room they played in to make it bigger since it was 2 separated room they made it to one big room and that is where mcr did their album and other bands pencey prep invited. Gerard and Frank painted in that room together at night and the chemicals of the paint had made both Gerard and Frank high. They later on blame that another band that run a party and made a big mess broken down the wall and lying saying that they didn't actually break it. They did get away with it.
*casual interactions on YouTube podcast*
Later on Pencey prep tour with Thursday and MCR. MCR was poor but Frank was nice enough to let them use the back stage room.
MCR played a few shows and gain fans. The radio host said fans were obsessed with vampires will never hurt you.
They often ask him to play it.
MCR were recording bullets but Gerard had a teeth problem and also anxiety. His tooth hurt him so much he would hit his head on the wall,bang his head on a car hood and he would cry and scream so badly that he often went to the hospital. He also had fear. He was going to give up he said "I can't do this anymore" the producer yelled and slapped his face to get his shit together and do the recording. Gerard later on got surgery on his tooth.
Pencey prep broken up
[B]I am a graveyard
Frank's band that didn't go as great as pencey prep. Only three members of pencey were in this band and one of the members of pencey left. They played a few shows but then they broken up.
Gerard asked Frank if he could join the band since they needed a guitarist and Ray couldn't play every guitar part. Frank said yes you guys are my fave band. MCR created have already created a few songs without Frank but 3 songs on bullets had Frank in it. Like early sunset over Manhattan for example. Ray and Frank said their ways are different Ray was more the metal kid while Frank was the punk rock kid but it worked. Frank could play parts Ray couldn't play and Ray played parts Frank couldn't play.
I brought you my bullets you brought me your love was released in 2002. The radio host played the album on the radio. MCR opened for Thursday,taking back Sunday. Fans loved MCR and they gain fans. Soon MCR traveled outside the state's Gerard and mikeys grandma brought them a van for tour.
The band went on tour as they played for fans in small venues. Even the place was too small for the fans since many people wanted to see them. Brian their tour manager made Gerard meet the used. He met bert and thought he was crazy but they later on became good friends
(Very good friends they became boyfriends)
Gerard started drinking and doing drugs with bert. Frank and jamia became girlfriends and boyfriends. MCR were poor they didn't have much food or clothes. They said they were used to a hungry stomach. But other bands were kind enough to give food and clothes to them. Their album didn't make it to record stores. So fans didn't have a way to buy the CD it was limited. MCR didn't even have merch to sell. Gerard made his own merch called thank you for the venom.
MCR became more popular.
Gerard was sexually confused
In 2003 there was a party mcr attempted. This was planned. It was filmed.
Frank was with Gerard and jamia next to him.
A guy was fighting Gerard. Frank fighted the guy to protect Gerard he ran after the guy but Ray stopped him.
Gerard and bert tour together and they made a song.
[B]Revenge era:
Gerard and mikeys grandma died. Which affected the band they made a song for her.
Warner brothers wanted to sign MCR but they rejected many labels they soon said yes to them. The band gotten a tour bus.
They had a producer named Howard who helped them create a album the band would create something and they think he will like it but he hated it he told them what is this going to be, what are you saying. They soon made songs he would like.
Once the album was done they kicked out Oliver when they finished the bullet tour. They kicked him out for not playing well he didn't want to use drum beats. He mess up often when playing so they kicked him out. They gotten Bob who he played in other bands as a dj and they didn't know he could play drums. Bob is from Chicago. He was all about tech and that is what the band needed. He joined the band.
Gerard was on his worst of the drugs and achohol that it made him sick he was very depressed and suicidal they were going to finish the album when Gerard was going for a walk and he wasn't seen for 2 days Frank was asking for help for people to find him.
Gerard was found.
Gerard said he did men favors for cocaine.
(Gerard and Frank started to be more than just friends they became boyfriends. Frank was a swinger so he had both Gerard and jamia. She seem ok with it because if she wasn't Frank wouldn't date Gerard. This is part for the frerard shipper)
Three cheers for sweet revenge was release they started touring. They went to Europe and Japan. While in Japan Gerard was getting worst he was throwing up so much. He once throw up for 45 mins then he said he was done.
Gerard became clean.
Their first music video was made it was I'm not okay and they gotten popular the shows gotten bigger they played in bigger venues and outdoor concert places.
MCR were always dirty they couldn't shower for many days and they smelled bad their clothes were always dirty. They toured with fall out boy for a while even Jimmy eat world and other bands. They were nominated in the vma.
The album gotten awards later on.
They did a world tour.
Gerard gotten a girlfriend named Ellie (aka the crazy fan)
[B]The black parade era:
The band were done touring they created some songs in the tour bus (I don't love you,teenagers) they wanted to stay in a cheap house. So they stayed in a haunted mansion. Mikey said he was feeling lost and depressed when they were on their way to L.A and the haunted house was making his problems bigger. The mansion name is called the paramour house. There were rumors of ghost and the place being haunted. Celebs would stay there often to make music or work.
[IMG=I4P]
They stayed there for 6 months.
Mikey didnt want to stay in the room upstairs so he stay on gerards floor. He often sneak from the bathroom to sleep on the floor next to Gerard. Some friends of theirs ask who had one of the rooms which was where Mikey was suppose to stay in and Gerard looked at Mikey in a joke kinda way but Mikey didn't want to say it. Frank stayed in a room away from the other rooms, Rumor said that the actor of friends ran out the room screaming. Plus a singer made a song with a ghost. Frank said the room was fine but he heard stuff that he thought was a raccoon and he said if it's actually a ghost she has a bad voice. Water would often suddenly start in bobs room. While they often hear door slamming and saw a few ghost around. Gerard was going crazy he was writing words on the wall. Ray was playing a random song that Gerard was mad at him for not playing a song for MCR. Ray played the song really fast since he was very stressed. Mikey left the house to see a therapist he was seeking help for his mental health. But he would come to the mansion to record songs. All the band had a problem with depression,anxiety,self doubt,and stress trama. The band often hear door slams and Mikey said he saw a few ghosts. Bob said in a interviews for the alternative press book that the band often had family breakfast. They played music in the ball room. Bob said we have a support room we would put up notes if we have a problem and we would talk about it. One day Bob went to rays room and he saw Ray brushing his teeth he was shaking. He asked him what happened and Ray said he saw a old lady ghost walking down the stairs.
Gerard gotten ideas he showed his idea to the band and they use it they recorded songs. One day they were trying to finish the last song. The band went to get coffee. Gerard was left alone thinking of ideas when they band returned Gerard created the song. They were inspired by his words. The band quickly left the mansion they were tired of it. They gotten a apartment that they stayed in for a while. The black parade album was made. Soon they started to tour. They first open up for muse in their concert in the U.K they were the first American band to play in that arena then they brought muse to tour with them in america.
They made a music video for famous last words but frank knocked Gerard which tore the muscle of his foot that he had to use a cane. There is fire in the video that Bob burned his leg he got a 2nd degree burn and the burn infected his face area that it enter his blood and he went to the hospital it almost went to his brain thankfully they saved him.
One day the band were in virgina with muse. Frank didn't go out for dinner since he is vegetarian and Gerard slept over that day (hmm it seems like something else huh)
Ray,bob,and mikey had dinner with muse matt,chris,and dom. They gotten food poison by the restaurant that both bands were sick for many days.
When they went to the U.K they gotten hate by the British people since the news said that MCR is a cult leader because one MCR girl ended her life. They treated MCR badly but they didn't care they won over them.
Frank often was sick on tour.
Then project revelation (Gerard broken up with his girlfriend) they toured with mindless self indigent,linkin park,blink 182,and the killers. (The most gay era for Frank and Gerard)
Gerard falling love with lynz. He broken up with Frank. A month later he married her. The frerard fight happened.
(Rumor said that Ray saw Frank sobbing in the bathroom)
Frank broken his toes that he had a cane.
Break:
Frank married jamia.
Ray married his girlfriend.
Frank created leather mouth.
While Gerard was making his comic books since revenge. The Umbrella academy comic book gotten awards. And Gerard was working on doom patrol while making more umbrella academy books. Ray had a kidney failure.
Frank had to remove his wisdom teeth since it infected his mouth that it made his mouth and nose bleed. He also had stomach pains that he would take pills for it.
[B]Danger days era:
The band had children (gerard,frank,and ray)
The band thought they were running out of ideas. They made a song for a movie then they try to make conventional weapons but they gave up on it they scrap it and they then made the danger days album. Basic off Gerard ways comic book series danger days the true lives of the fabulous killjoys. The band became superheroes. Once they finished danger days they kicked Bob out over drama something to do with mikey cheating on his wife with another girl that Bob bullied him. Gerard kicked him out of the band. They gotten Michael who they made him the new drummer.
The band went on tour around the world.
Soon they finished touring they kicked out Michael for stealing in the band he was stealing band stuff.
Gerard decided to break up the band suddenly he didn't tell Frank
Frank didn't know about the break up so he was confused. Mikey divoide his wife.
[B]MCR broken up.
[B]During the break:
Frank created death spells in 2012 before the break up happened. Below I posted during the break wiki and Frank's band history wiki.
Frank created another band called Frank iero and the celebration.
Mikey was very depressed he taken drugs and he overdose in them that he was in a coma for many weeks. This also made Gerard depressed.
Gerard made solo music he created a album and was touring around places. He became a vegetarian.
Ray toro made solo music he created his own album.
Mikey joined a band called electric century.
Bob became a real estate agent also a plane flyer.
In 2017 Frank created another band called Frank iero and the patience.
Gerard worked more on his comic books.
Mikey married his girlfriend.
Ray was unknown in this era.
Frank was touring around the world. he went to Australia his band were in the car of the parking lot in the airport when a bus ran the car over it pulled Frank a few miles away from the car the band went to the hospital. Frank broken his arm while everyone else broken their legs and arm. Frank can't play the same again so he can't jump around stage and play guitar for a long time if not his arm will hurt he did not have surgery. Gerard,Ray, and Mikey went to Frank's show. Once a year mcr would bring their wife and kids and have a barbeque together to talk about plans.
In 2018
Gerard was working on the umbrella academy tv show and his other umbrella academy book. Plus more doom patrol stuff.
Mikey was making his own comic books also his wife had 2 kids by this time.
2019:
Frank created a new band Frank iero and the future violents his album barriers came out may 2019. Gerard release the umbrella academy tv show plus his other umbrella academy books.
Mikey release more comic books for collapser.
Ray collab with Gerard with 2 songs for the umbrella academy. They are cover songs.
On Oct 31 2019,
Frank's birthday was happening and fans said happy birthday to him. Frank then said it's raining outside today I can't do nothing today so we have to do something else. Then Frank tease a image he was the first one to say mcr returned then the other band members did it too. So MCR reunion happened MCR is back on Halloween
On Dec 20 2019,
It was the first MCR show since the break up in California 2019.
Now in 2020 MCR are touring now but due to the virus the band has to move some dates.
More dates will be added.
Gerard Way is working on season 2 of the umbrella academy tv show.
That's all of mcr history hopefully you readed all of this. Hopefully you enjoyed this. I will update this page if anything new happens. Check out the other wiki. If I forgotten anything I will add it here.
Here is info you can find for some of these.
[IMG=E5W]
[IMG=8BA]
[IMG=YCT]
[IMG=HRP]
[IMG=LAW]
[IMG=U2O]
[IMG=FJO]
There is another video I can't find but I saw it ages ago.
The other details I got them from the book in the first photo which you can get in the alt press website it's cheap but they got stuff in there about the band.
Please check out the wiki below they are part of mcr history too.
Thanks for having the patience to read this wiki.
Please share it.
I will add pictures later to this wiki. This took me hours to make this.
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lokilickedme · 3 years
Text
The Queen of Springtown
I’m going to tell you a story.  It’s a true story.  There’s a bit of conjecture here and there to fill in empty spots, but not a lot.  It’s a story about my grandmother - my paternal grandmother, not my maternal grandmother - I feel the need to specify who exactly it is because mom’s mom has a bit of a story too, but that’s for later.
This one’s about the one I’m going to call Elizabeth.  Elizabeth was her middle name, it was a family name, it belonged to her mother and her grandmother I believe, though I didn’t know any of those people so I couldn’t swear by it.  The family records are long gone if they ever existed.
Elizabeth’s last name was one of those romantically ridiculous names that still clung to old families at the turn of the century.  It had a lot of extraneous letters at the end, a handful of unnecessary and partially silent sounds that looked beautiful in the flowery handwritten script of the time, a noble sounding -eaoux that did little more than tag a fancy sounding o onto the back end.  A lot of fuss for such a little piece of sound.  And when Elizabeth’s grandfather moved his family from France to Ireland and signed the manifests upon arrival in the new old land, he dropped the -eaoux and shortened the family’s name to four tiny letters and a single syllable.  They were Irish now.
Elizabeth’s father carried the new name and the new heritage, and when he was of age he went and married an Irish beauty named - yep, Elizabeth.  They say she was redheaded and blue eyed and fair skinned, though no pictures exist to prove it.  All that exists is my grandmother, who supposedly looked just like her mama.  She didn’t remember Ireland...she was too young when her daddy moved his family to a new land just like his own daddy had done, and she never really told anyone she was Irish.  No one actually knew, once her parents were gone.
But you could tell.  She looked it - flame red hair, china blue eyes, fair skin.  She had the bones of whatever French nobility had been in her lineage from way back, but her colors were the Emerald Isle all the way.  A beauty like you’d see in the movies, petite and ladylike and perfectly put together.
But my god that woman had a wild streak that dated right back to the Celts whose blood made up half of what she was.
(continued under the cut because long story)
So Elizabeth grew up in America, the daughter of an Irish mother and a French father.  She had brothers and sisters, quite a few, though I never knew any of them.  I believe I met two of them when I was too young to remember much about the encounter, but I’ve always found it hilarious that one of her sisters was named Bill.  Bill, like the man’s name.  I never found out why and I’m not entirely sure there was ever actually a reason.  It was just one of those things.
The newly American family settled in Texas.  And when Elizabeth was very young - probably not yet in her 20′s, though nobody knows for sure just how old she actually was because it’s likely she tended to fib a bit about her age to get into places she had no business being - she got herself involved with the Texas mafia.
Now let me tell you a thing or two about the Texas mafia.  It wasn’t an official operation - not like the Italian Mafioso or the Eastern Syndicates or whatever the hell was going on between Florida and Cuba at the time.  But it was every bit as dangerous and vicious and bloody and corrupt as any of those bigger organizations, and it was led for the most part by a man I’m going to call Big Joe.
This was the early 1940′s or thereabouts.  Elizabeth was a party girl - up for anything, always out and about, girl-gang at the swing club, the works.  And Big Joe saw her in the club one night, it may very well have been his club she was dancing at, and the proverbial first-sight thing kicked him hard in the gonads.  This girl was a looker, and she was dancing with everyone in the place, whooping it up, living life like tomorrow it was all going to take a header into the sea.  He had to have her.
And he did.
Big Joe was likely in his late 30′s, maybe early 40′s.  There’s not a lot of information on him other than a handful of facts mentioned once and only once by my grandmother to my aunt - that Big Joe was a handsome man, big and tough and a snazzy dresser, and he always had enough money in his pocket to take Elizabeth anywhere she wanted to go and buy her anything she wanted to buy.  And Elizabeth, party girl extraordinaire, was all up for that.
So Elizabeth and Big Joe become a thing.  Everybody knows she’s his squeeze - and suddenly not a male soul in Dallas or the surrounding metropolitan areas will dare to lay an eye on her, not even a quick glance, because she’s Big Joe’s girl.  And that means something.  Elizabeth doesn’t know quite what it means because she’s likely not even 20 yet, but Big Joe is fun and romantic and he takes her on trips and buys her nice clothes.  He buys her a ring, a blood red garnet, a ring that I inherit many decades later.  He’s going to marry her, he says.  She doesn’t care much one way or the other, she’s having too much fun dancing every night in his club, traveling with him, going shopping, rubbing shoulders with the rich and famous of the Southwest.  She’s all but a star, protected and adored.  Big Joe’s men follow her everywhere she goes when she’s not with him.  And Big Joe starts going out of town without her a lot, taking care of business that he never tells her the details of.
She’s cool with that.  He’s a businessman, that’s what he’s always told her.  Things to take care of out of town.  The Boss.  He has a lot of operations to oversee, operations that make all that money he spends on her.
She has no idea what he actually does.
All she knows - or cares to know - is that when he comes back to town he ushers her around town in his big fancy black car, buying her furs and expensive dinners, showing her off to society.  When he isn’t slapping her around...but hey, that’s part of the deal isn’t it?  It’s the 1940′s, and Big Joe is very much a man of the era.  Women grew up knowing they’d have to take the back of a man’s hand from time to time, and Elizabeth knew which side her bread was buttered on.  She kept Big Joe happy, put a smile on his face, did the old grin-and-bear-it on the rest of it.
And then one night Big Joe comes banging on her door.  He’s frantic.  He pushes a set of keys into her hand - keys to the fancy black car that takes her everywhere - and tells her to keep it there, at her house.  Don’t drive it anywhere, just keep it there.  He’ll contact her soon and tell her what to do.
He leaves in another car with one of his men, and that’s the last time Elizabeth ever sees him.
A few weeks later she gets a letter from Big Joe telling her to drive the car into Grapevine Lake, on the far side by the shoals.  Don’t open the trunk, he says.  Put a brick on the gas pedal and put it in drive.  Do it at night and make sure nobody sees you.
That night Elizabeth picks up her best friend and they drive the car to Grapevine to do as Big Joe said, sinking it in the murky green water on the far side of the lake.  The two girls - just girls, barely even women yet - stand on the shore watching it disappear into the deep dark.
A week later Big Joe is shot to death.  A deal gone bad maybe, or a competitor moving into the territory.  Nobody really knows - grandmother never said.  Don’t think I haven’t done my research...I know what I know, and according to a nearly nonexistent little trove of newspaper articles microfiched in a tiny little library in Azle Texas that isn’t even there anymore, odds are very likely that Big Joe went down in a shootout with the Dallas Police Department.
Elizabeth never opened the trunk of that car.  At least she said she didn’t...it’s one of the many things that nobody ever knew or will ever know, because once she shut the door on that part of her life and moved on, it might as well have never happened.  Getting this much out of her was outrageously difficult.  Thanks to my very tenacious and very persevering aunt, what I’ve just told you managed to survive.  It’s very likely my aunt was the only person she ever told, and it’s very likely I in turn am the only person my aunt ever told.  And now my aunt is in her 70′s and in poor health, and this little unknown family story has started poking around at the back of my skull.  I don’t want it to be lost.  I don’t like the idea of soon being the only person alive who knows it.  It’s not a spectacular story, but it’s testament to the fact that extraordinary things happen to ordinary people, probably more often than you’d think - and that those ordinary people sometimes take it all to the grave with them.
Elizabeth - my dad’s mom, my grandmother, the one I look like and act like and laugh like, the one whose cheekbones and eyes and hair and size I was born with, passed away twenty-something years ago.  She lived through some extraordinary things.  After the demise of Big Joe she married an oil roughneck, one of the semi-transient oilfield workers that were prevalent in the Texas Panhandle at the time, and had two children with him - one of whom was my father.  The roughneck was the epitome of the James Dean romantic brooding bad boy type, handsome and manly, but unfortunately also a scoundrel who had a second family in another city that he went to every other month when he traveled to another rig for work.  She left him when she found out.  It was almost unheard of at the time, a young mother taking her two little kids and leaving her husband to be on her own, but she did it.  And when my father was 12 she met and married a very tall, very handsome, very Cary Grant-esque railroad worker who loved life every bit as much as she did.
They were together for the rest of her life.  I’ve never to this day seen two people more in love than Elizabeth and Jesse.  I spent many summers in Texas with them and not a night went by that I couldn’t hear them giggling in the next room after lights-out, talking and laughing quietly until granddad’s wallshaking snores echoed through the house.  It just about killed him when her heart gave out.  But she was old, and she’d lived a life worth living.  There was nothing in her face in those final moments that could ever convince anyone she wasn’t ready and willing to go when the time came.
I’d been married for a couple of years when she died, and my husband and I traveled to Texas for the funeral.  The first night there, as my aunt brought out grandmother’s jewelry box and told me to take whatever I wanted, the story was passed from her to me.  And when it was all told I opened a little drawer in the bottom of the jewelry box and pulled out an old garnet ring that I’d seen before, when I was a small child snooping in grandma’s stuff.  I’d always been fascinated with it...it just looked like it had a story to tell.  That’s it, my aunt said.  That’s the ring he gave her.  That’s all she ended up with.
It was the only thing I took.
The church was so full the next morning you’d have thought it was the final sendoff for some local celebrity.  Everybody loved my grandmother, everybody, but this was sort of astounding.  Some of them I knew from my childhood, from many many summers spent in the Panhandle, but people came from all over to say goodbye and nobody in the family knew who a lot of them were.  They just showed up, some of them cried, some just stood in the back of the church all stoic in black suits.  Some were very old.  And when it was over and I turned around to watch a group of distinctly important-looking old gentlemen quickly and quietly leave the building, I looked over at my aunt and pointed at them.  She arched her eyebrows in that way she always did, that way, the way that said What did I tell you?? - and I wondered if maybe all those years ago some of Big Joe’s men hadn’t pulled that car out of Lake Grapevine and found the trunk empty.
I mean...this is Elizabeth we’re talking about.
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unmaskedagain · 4 years
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Archenemies to Superfriends
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Do you know how hard it is to make Lila likeable? Do you know the struggle I went through to write this fic? I know I said I wanted a challenge, something unique. BUT WHAT THE HELL! This took me longer than my last two fics combined. Class salt but make Lila the good guy? Like seriously, do you hate me? I hope the Anon requester likes this. 
"I regret that we meet in this way. You and I are of a kind. In a different reality, I could have called you friend." — Romulan Commander, Star Trek: The Original Series, "Balance of Terror"
It turned out there was a line Lila Rossi wouldn’t even cross. Sure, she wasn’t the nicest person in the world. Far from it. She was a liar, a thief, a cheater, a bully at times, a social climber.
But she wasn’t a monster.
           As she looked the sketchbook in Alya’s hand, and the vindictive look on her face; Lila realized what was about to take place would push her over the line into monster status.
           The school day had just ended. Most students had already left. Lila had been about to leave when Alya stopped her.
“How? How did you get it?” Lila asked. Surely Marinette wasn’t foolish enough to leave it around.
           It was Alix who preened, “I snuck it out of her bag.”
“She’s been so mean to you, girl,” Alya said. “Marinette needs to learn a lesson.”
           No, Marinette hadn’t been mean to her. Lila never even implied the bluenette had been mean to her. Lila spun her stories to the class, and whenever Marinette called her out for lying (which she was), the class would gang up on the Bluenette and accuse her of being jealous, of bullying poor Lila.
           It was actually rather startling how fast the so call best friends had turned on the girl. Lila didn’t even have to push or instigate it like she usually did. No, a few promises of meeting famous celebrities, and they all rushed to do it on their own.
           Rose’s sleepover. Rose didn’t invite Marinette at the other girls’ insistence so Lila wouldn’t feel unease.
           Nino’s party. No one mentioned it Marinette. She had been acting crazily lately.
           Trip to the movie. Marinette would just ruin it for everybody.
           And so on and so forth. Until the class was going out of their way to avoid the bluenette. Some even went as far as verbally bashing the other girl and ending their friendships. It got to the point where no one, not even Adrien, would speak to Marinette; and ostracized her to the back of the class. Only Chloe defended the girl and sought out her friendship. To which Alya snorted, “Of course. Bullies belong with bullies.”
           Now the class had moved on to destroying private property. Great.
           Lila sighed. How was she going to get herself out of this one?
Lila prided herself on still being able to look at herself in the mirror at the end of the day. Despite all she had done and would be willing to do; Lila was firm on what she wouldn’t do.
           Destroying someone’s life work; something they had spent months and months on, something that had nothing to do with Lila, was going too far.
           Lila needed to move quickly. She eyed the sketchbook. It was a standard black sketchbook, nothing special. She owned a similar one herself that she used for quick doodles and to write down ideas.
           That was when Lila got an idea. She quickly put her school books on the desk and beamed at her moronic classmates. Then all it took were quick sad eyes, and a can I hold it first, please. For Alya to hand it over. Then Lila accidentally spilled all off her books on the ground, and when everyone rushed to help her. Lila switched the two sketchbooks.
           Then it took her classmates, not friends (never friends); Alya, Max Alix, Kim, Nino, Mylene, Ivan, all of ten seconds to destroy the book into as little pieces as they could. Never even bothering to look to see if it was actually Marinette’s work.
           They left the pieces scattered on Marinette’s desk.
           Just as they finished said girl rushed back into class, a frantic searching look on her face. It took her five seconds to notice the torn sketchbook on her desk. Pure devastation overtook her face, tears filled her blue eyes.
           Alya snipped a mean retort about Karma and left the class with the other students following behind her. Not realizing Lila wasn’t among them. Not caring that she had just hurt the girl she had sworn was her bestie not too long ago.
           Marinette stared quietly at the mess, not letting the tears fall. “Why?” She whispered.
“I didn’t have anything to do with this,” Lila told her. “You don’ have to believe me. But I swear I didn’t. This isn’t my m.o.”
           Marinette wanted to lash out at the other girl; scream about it being her fault, and her being a liar. But she couldn’t even find words to speak.
“Here,” Lila said as she handed over the sketchbook. “I switched it with mine before they could… you know.”
           Marinette blinked once, then twice, before she slowly reached for the book; hope filling her. And sure enough. Relief rushed through her. She thanked all the kwami. “Why?” She asked Lila. “You hate me.” That had been the basis for their relationship for months.
           Lila snorted, “I don’t hate you. I don’t hate anyone,” She shrugged. “Hate clouds judgment. You’re just my competition. No one likes their rival team.”
           Marinette stared at the Italian girl. Rival team? Competition? What? “We’re not even competing for anything! If it's about Adrien. He’s yours. I don’t want him.” It turned out, the blond was too cowardly for her taste. Not enough backbone.
“Of course we’re competing!” Lila snapped. “Since I got to this school.”
“Over what?”
           It was Lila’s turn to stare. Didn’t the other girl know? Hadn’t they been fighting for the top spot?
“Being the most popular girl in school.”
           Marinette just looked confused. “But I’m not popular. Especially not now.”
“Not popular?” Lila could’ve cursed. “Not popular! On my first day, I didn’t go more than a foot before someone mentioned the wonderful Marinette. She’s so smart. She’s so sweet. She’s so EVERYTHING. I knew from day one we were archenemies. You knew it too. Why else would you try to call me out so much!”
“…I just don’t like liars.”
           That time Lila did scream.
           Because it wasn’t possible. There was no way Marinette Dupain-Cheng hadn’t even realized they had been competing. This wasn’t just some delusional one-side battle on Lila’s side. No way.
“Why me?” Marinette asked, with a tilted head, reminded Lila of a puppy. “There are tons of more popular girls. Aurore; she’s the most beautiful girl in school. Ondine, she’s the best athlete. Ruby in drama was literally voted the most popular kid in school last year.”
“That’s different,” Lila waved it off. “Those girls are popular for one specific thing. Even Ruby was only voted because she throws the best parties. And even then, most only like them for that thing. Everyone likes you.” Or at least all but one class now.
           A class that had proven to be worthless. Lila was starting to realize that she had been playing against her most noteworthy opponent, who apparently never realized they were competing, in a less than worthwhile game to be the most popular girl in class to get the approval of the students. Students who, again, weren’t worth it.
“You’re the only one worth a damn in this school,” Lila admitted as she sat down at her desk. “That’s why you. You’re the best. I want to beat the best.”
She never attacked the weak. She attacked the strong. She went after the strongest of the strong. Lila thrived off competition. She just didn’t want to win. She wanted to be The Winner. Lila wanted the number one spot engraved with her name. To do that she had to beat the best.
Her motto: A hero is only as good as his villain. The reverse is also true.
Lila knew since was a little girl that she would never make it the big leagues if she only fought small fries. So in every school, in every class; Lila found what was most important to her fellow students and went after it. Some school was easy. A few classes valued music; Lila started a band, with her as the lead singer, and knocked out her competition. Sports freaks; Lila always had a knack for futbol. Everyone in class fought to have the best grades (It only happened once) but Lila said bring it on.
Even she had to cheat, sabotage, lie, or whatever else to get to the top she’d do it. And she did. And she was always won.
She was the most popular kid in school within the month. Always.
As for her competition. Some fell easily; too easily for her taste. Some took months to fall. One guy took an entire year. His name had been Felix, and he been Lila’s favorite nemesis. He had fought with everything he had; pushed Lila far beyond her limits and made her think outside the box every time they went head to head.
He had been the joker to her Batman. (Afterall, every villain is a hero in their own mind)
But eventually, even Felix fell.
It had been glorious. A high that Lila road all the way to her new school in France.
Looking back, Lila should’ve known better. She should’ve known that Felix had been preparing her for her greatest battle yet. The fight of her lifetime. Against the greatest opponent, she would ever know.
Marinette.
The Superman to her Batman. All good things good and pure Versus the big bad of the night.
           It had been a fight Lila had been waiting for her life. And yet it turned out, Marinette never even really noticed.
           And to think, Lila had thought she had been winning. The class turned again Marinette. Everyone loved Lila. Except none of it seemed to bother the other girl. In fact, she seemed to get stronger.
           For every friend Marinette lost, she found another; a better one. Aurore, Claude, Ondine, Marc, Luka, Bridgette; the list went on and on.
           Alya voted to have Marinette removed as class president. Marinette gets on the student council. The class loses its most organized student. Lila declines the role of feigning that she was too busy. To make it worse all the well-planned birthday parties, school trips, free costume designer, and the random sweet day where baked goods were brought to class on particularly stressful school days, (all of which Lila had enjoyed).
           Adrien no longer speaking to her. (Honestly, Lila never saw what anyone saw in the blond model besides the potential connection he offered. He was naive and a far too idealistic for her taste). Marinette gets twelve different boys, and three girls, asking her to the sweethearts dance.
           Without the class clinging to her and demanding her time, Marinette seemed to thrive. No longer stressed; rarely ever late. Lila, on the other hand, found her days busier and busier as her classmates tried to lean on her more.
           No matter the bad thing that happened, Marinette just stronger. And she never lost her positive attitude.
           Marinette shook her head. This one turning out to be one strange day. “If you want the class, you can them. They’re my friends anymore.” She glanced at the pieces of the sketchbook on her desk. “I don’t know who they are in anymore.”
“Fame seekers,” Lila answered. “More concerned with what someone can do for than actual friendships. You get used to them.” She paused. “I don’t want them either. They’re…”
“Taxing,” Marinette offered as she sat down next to Lila. “Emotionally draining. Opinionated. Users.”
“Bad friends.”
“That too.”
           It went quiet. Neither girl knowing what to say. Lila didn’t know what to do now that all competition was all but officially declared over. Marinette realized that her ex-friends' actions couldn’t be blamed on Lila. Everything they did was on their own. Forgiveness wasn’t going to happen. So what are they fighting for? What could they fight for?
“Truce?” Marinette offered. “I let the morons believe whatever you want. And you just leave me out of it.”
           Lila nodded, “You go your way. I go mine.”
           This was worse than Superman V Batman movie ending as far as Lila was concerned. At least no one died.
           That was it. They left school that day feeling a little shook. Each girl agreed to move on and avoid each other.
           Except that wasn’t what happened.
           Somehow, slowly, Lila and Marinette became friends.
           It started off small. Lila had needed a break from her groupies and hid in the art room. Marinette had been working in there.
“They too much again?” Marinette asked.
           Lila winced but nodded.
“I used to hide in the back of the library,” Marinette offered. “On the roof.  Any random classroom I could find. Sometimes, I even just left for my parents.”
“Seriously?” Lila asked. “They’ve always been like this.”
           Marinette snorted. “Worse. Wait until they start asking you for favors. Which will turn into demands.”
“…They are just the worst.”
           Then both girls laughed.
           After that whenever Lila needed a break, she sought out the presence of the other girl. Sometimes they hung out in the library, on the roof, wherever. It was nice.
           It wasn’t until Lila showed up in Marinette’s room, bitching about her mom canceling their plans together again. Marinette just listens to Lila’s sorrows and offered ice cream. They spent the entire night just bitching and watching reruns of Doctor Who. (It turned out Lila was a bit of nerd.) Lila slept over and slept easily for the first time in months.
That was when the two realized they were friends.
Marinette, Lila’s once declared greatest enemy, became her first real friend.
After that everything just fell together. Lila started showing up at Marinette’s and more.
Eventually, Lila being invited to Marinette’s girls’ night and being introduced to a new friend to Chloe, Kagami, Aurore, and Ondine.
Upon seeing her, Chloe snorted, “She got you too, huh. It’s the eyes. Don’t look her in the eyes.”
“Yes,” Kagami agreed. “I, too, had declared Marinette my rival. Now I wear bunny pajamas and adorn avocado oatmeal face masks.”
Well shit, Lila thought as she eyed Marinette’s former rivals, did I ever stand a chance?
           The answer was no.
           But Lila didn’t mind.
           After that Chloe found herself having more actually friends than ever before. In Chloe, she found a second-best friend. Someone she could always bitch with, and not just to. The blond had the presence Lila had always strived for. Chloe stalked through the hall like a model on the runway. People jumped out of her way. She was a phenomenal force to be reckoned, likened to Wonder Woman.
           Marinette and Lila were two peas in a pod. They both strived to the best, thrived under pressure, and loved fashion. But while Lila wanted to model and be in front of the camera, Marinette wanted to design.
           Lila loved Marinette’s clothes and decided the girl need a bit of a push. So she reached out to Chloe, and together they teamed up to convince Marinette to start her own website. It took a bit of work but MDC designs were officially online. All designs, of course, were modeled by Lila, Chloe, and Marinette’s other girlfriends. Lila had never felt so glamorous. Marinette never looked so happy.
           Lila started being the one Marinette went to whenever she needed someone to cover for babysitting. Or had to have a random excuse as to why she wasn’t present. And Lila did both jobs remarkably well.
           Still, despite their friendship, Lila was a bit surprised to get Marinette’s birthday invitation. Marinette made her promise not to tell anyone. Even more so, when Marinette took her and Chloe, Kagami, Luka, Claude, Marc, Aurore, and Ondine to Clara Nightingale concert. They had backstage passed and Lila nearly died when Clara rushed over to hug Marinette after a song. Lila took a lot of pictures, even one of her and the superstar together, but didn’t post them.
           Which left Marinette happily surprised. Apart, though small, still expected Lila to boast in class about the additional celebrity she knew. But that never happened. Marinette felt relief and a bit guilty, she supposed some part of her was testing the other girl to see if she could trust her; and was happy to find out Lila had passed.
           Despite their Lila and Marinette’s friendship things at school didn’t change. The other students in class still froze Marinette out. Lila, though, did her best to keep them from doing anything mean to the bluenette. Though this only happened when the other students needed something Marinette used to do for them; like free babysitting, custom-designed dresses, stage design, and interview with Ladybug, it wasn’t going to happen. Or when the class trips were lackluster at best.
           Lila hadn’t realized just how much she and Marinette had grown to like and trust each other until Ladybug showed up in her room. She was prepared to send a barging remark to the hero who had nearly sabotaged her attempts to win over Adrien, thus the rest of the class, when Ladybug spoke.
“Marinette sent me,” The red hero said. “She said I could trust you; that you’d make a good hero.” And then Ladybug showed her the fox miraculous, a replica of the one Lila used to wear.
           Lila’s mouth dropped opened.
“As soon as the fight’s done, you’ll need to return it to me,” Ladybug stated firmly. “Do you understand.”
           And just like that Volpina was reborn. Her costume was darker than before, her tail a bit longer and curved. Her mask black.
           Ladybug and Volpina fought side by side against a Clown Akuma that turn people into balloon animals. During the fight, Volpina learned that Chat Noir had, once again, abandoned Ladybug after the hero turned down his affections. Lila never felt so much disgust. What kind of hero was that?
           After the fight, Volpina and Ladybug met back up in Lila’s room and Lila immediately handed over the miraculous.
“Thanks for the help,” Ladybug smiled as he pocked the necklace.
           Lila nodded, “Chat Noir was wrong. What he’s doing is sexual harassment. Like seriously, look it up. No means no. You shouldn’t have to take that.”
“He’s my partner.”
“He’s not acting like it.”
           The words seemed to affect Ladybug who visibly wilted.  She didn’t say another word as she left.
           However, not long after Lila found herself being called forth to fight as Volpina more and more. Chat Noir never showing up once.
           When both heroines were confronted by a furious Alya, live streaming, Lila learned something.
“What happened to Rena Rouge?” Alya demanded, hurt and anger in her eyes. “Why replace her with this faux-hero? And what about the rest of the new team Miraculous;  Viperion, BrightRoar, and Ryuko. What about the old team?”
           Faux-hero? Ladybug had to physically stop Volpina from ripping into the reporter.
“Rena Rouge has been retired,” Ladybug glared. “She proved herself to be untrustworthy. In fact, all former heroes such as Caraprace and Chat Noir have been retired. They have been replaced by permanent heroes like Volpina, here, Queen Bee, Viperion, BrightRoar, and Ryuko. They have proven themselves to loyal and capable heroes.”
           No one knew who was more stunned Lila or Alya. She was a permanent hero? Chat Noir had been replaced? What?
“What?” Alya asked. “Rena was amazing. A much better hero than some people,” She gave a dirty look to Volpina. “And You and Chat Noir belonged together. Everyone says so!”
“Rena was a good hero,” Ladybug said. “But outside the mask, she proved herself unworthy. As for me and Chat Noir. I’ve said countless times, I felt nothing but friendship for him. It was Chat Noir and tabloid sites like the Ladyblog that hyped up that nonsense.”
“Tabloid?” Alya shrieked.
“Yes, tabloid.” Ladybug hissed. “Why do think I stopped working with you?”
           In retrospect, Lila should’ve realized sooner the fallout that would happen not long after. Alya wasn’t the type of person to own up to her own mistakes. However, Lila had been so busy cheering at being a new permanent hero that she got a little distracted.
           After Ladybug called her out, Alya spent all every ounce energy to find out how she went from Ladybug’s goto to Ladybug’s no go. And then answer was in the comments to her videos of Lila. All calling out the Italian to be a liar.
           By Monday, everyone in the class knew. As soon as Lila walked into class, Alya tore into accused her of lying and ruining her blog.
           TO which Lila gave big crocodile tear-filled eyes, “I just wanted to make friends.” She tried to gain sympathy. It didn’t work.
           Soon all the class was screaming at her.
           It stopped when Bustier and Marinette walked into class.
           Bustier looked like a deer caught in the headlines, unsure of what to do.
           Marinette had looked directly at Lila, “You can sit in back with me and Chloe.”
“Girl’s, she a liar,” Alya hissed. “You were right.”
           Marinette scoffed, “And yet she’s a better friend than you ever were.” She looked at Lila again, ignoring the protests from her classmates around her. “Come on.
           Lila smiled as the two girls made their way to the back of the classroom to join Chloe in the back.
           Lila, Marinette, and Chloe sent matching Ice Queen looks to the rest of the students in class; daring them to say something, to approach.
           And just like the heroes: Batman, Superman, and Wonder Woman, Lila likened them to be; no one would even consider it.
           It wasn’t like anyone else in the class was worth a damn anyway.
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👀couldnt help but notice you talking about hannibal in your billy loomis imagine 👀 also couldnt help but to notice thats in your fandom list 👀 maybe you should shoot your shot with an imagine with hanni 👀
So over on my Naruto blog I did a little fluff piece called Morning Coffee that everyone seemed to enjoy so I thought I'd bring it here. It’s a simple concept, it follows your morning to the start of your cup to the end of it. Hope you enjoy! --- ☕ Morning Coffee ☕
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written in the mind-frame of a Female!Reader but there are no pronouns mentioned nor gender specific anatomical body parts.  Warnings: None, flirting with the idea of smut but no actual smut. Sexual longing maybe? Word Count: 1,155
--- Hannibal Lecter
   Having coffee with a friend shouldn't have been this stressful, being this stressed in the morning couldn't be good for you but it wasn't like you could help it. How are you supposed to dress for morning coffee with a man who practically lives in three piece suits? Formal? Business casual? Casual casual? Your clothing covered floor seemed to bare no answers as you stared at what you swore was everything you owned...had everything always been this ugly? God! Why did you even propose a breakfast together? Hannibal does dinner but no you had to pitch breakfast to be different and try to impress him, yeah you're sure he'd be impressed by the amount of clothing on the floor. If you'd been like everyone else and just gone for dinner you'd have more time to try on clothes but a look at the clock told you that you had to leave now or you'd be late and that'd be terrible, that'd be rude and Hannibal can't stand people who're rude. However messy your floor was it was worth it for the compliment you got when Hannibal opened his door to greet you. “I don't see you in colour often, red looks lovely on you.”     Well, guess you're wearing red for the rest of your life.     "Oh thank you.” Finds it's way out of your throat as your face is painted the colour that apparently looks lovely on you.     “Please, come in.” He welcomes stepping to the side to allow room.    You never gave much thought to what a foyer could be, yours is technically where you just kick off your shoes and put your keys but this, this was proper foyer. Just the entrance to his house was nice. God it was big too, he could probably rent it out to a poor college kid for like 500 bucks if he wanted not that he looked like he needed the extra money. Did you even know how to say Foyer properly? You bet Hannibal did, without a doubt he knew all those fancy French words--was that word even French? Oh no, what if you were stupid and it wasn't French? What if this wasn't even a foyer? How dumb were you? H-- hands came up to your shoulders jolting you out of your spiral. Hannibal gently pulls the edges of your jacket and you immediately understand. “Thank you.” You repeat once again.    He smiles with a nod as he slides your jacket off of you with your help and hangs it up on a beautiful wood stand you're sure costs more than half your rent. Thinking about how much money was within these walls could make your head spin but that spinning is halted by the soothing tones of his voice. “Lost in thought?” He inquired.    “Uh, just early morning brain fog you know?” You try to bluff.    It's not convincing but he nods anyway. “Perhaps some coffee would help.”     “Sounds good.” You agree.    Following him through his house only furthers your awe, you could spent a lifetime in here just looking at stuff. “I thought it'd be pleasant to make breakfast together instead of having it ready, eating together is one experience but preparing a meal is another entirely.” He explained    The idea of sharing an experience with Hannibal was one that filled you with butterflies, the more you thought about it you didn't think you'd heard of Hannibal cooking with anyone else, maybe the stress of this morning would pay off after all. “I'm not a chef but I'll do my best, what're we making?”     “Uova al purgatorio.” Which leads to a bit of a blank stare on your end, as pretty as it sounds you've got no idea what that means. “It's an Italian dish, eggs in Purgatory.” He explained.    “Sounds interesting.” You quip.    “It is, the name comes from the eggs sitting in a tomato base, the white of the eggs floating within the red sauce giving the illusion of souls trapped within the unknown of Purgatory.” He explains as he prepares the boiling water for your coffee. “Even at breakfast it seems we wonder where our souls go to lay.”     “Well makes sense for Italy home of the Pope, I'm sure there's religious overtones at most meals.”    He smiles a little and nods. “During my time in Italy it truly does surround you, it's an interesting feeling, almost euphoric to be encapsulated by it at every
turn.” He remarked.    “Wow, you spent time in Italy? It looks beautiful there.” You say, trying to stray a little further from the religious aspect, you don't exactly know where Hannibal falls on that spectrum and the last thing you want to do is come across rude or disrespectful to him. “Coffee smells great.” You add as he pours the boiling water into his very fancy looking French Press.    Your attempt to change subjects doesn't go unnoticed at all but he once again nods as he looks at you. “Yes, I traveled quite a bit in my youth, I called Italy my home for some time.” He explains.     “Do you ever miss it?” You ask    “I take with me what I relish in the places I've been, while I may no longer be surrounded by the Primavera or the walls of Santa Maria della Concezione dei Cappuccini they are ever present in my mind, reproduced with the utmost detail.” You could listen to Hannibal talk all day, it wouldn't matter what he said you just like the way he said things, the timbre of his voice. “Have you ever given thought to travelling?” He prodded.    “Course, who doesn't think about travelling? See far off places, experience new people, new things, different cultures.” You reminisce.    “What stops you?”     You shrug a little. “Funds mainly but I'd want to take the time to learn the language of where I'm going, understand the culture so I don't offend anyone. I don't want to be one of those tourists that makes an ass out of themselves.” You said cringing at the end.    “It's considerate to take the time to understand a culture you will not live in, many go on whims like they're visiting amusement parks.” He agreed. “Would Italy be a place you'd like to visit or would you find their taste for religion leaving a sour taste in your mouth?” He asked.    Did you really think you'd get out of a question Hannibal wanted answered? You shrugged a little once again trying to make sure you phrase things that wouldn't step on toes that were in shoes that likely cost more than your rent. “I'm unsure...I don't know if my broader and more open views would be welcome in the narrower scope of such a religious place and I wouldn't want to impose myself or my views upon anyone.” You slowly clamber out as he pours two cups of what smells like incredibly coffee. “Thank you.” You quickly add as you take it from his hands.    “While I do know you enough to welcome you into my home, I'm not sure if I know you well enough to know of the open views you believe would be scrutinized under the gaze of the Church. Do you speak a broader view of all religions? Racial rights? Sexual appetite?”     You stomach almost leaps into your throat at the last question, talking sexual appetites with someone who could feed that said appetite for the rest of your life? How were you supposed to talk about that? You didn't want to impose but you certainly didn't want to miss any chance of feeding that appetite. “All of the above, you know?” You pitch at first. “I'm a big believer in religious freedoms for everyone, from anywhere--just freedom for everyone in general.” You tackle first, that's the more important one and the one that won't get you into any trouble. “And um--yeah I suppose my sexual appetite wouldn't please the Church.” You say with a small laugh breaking your gaze from Hannibal and down at your coffee cup. “Not exactly a born again virgin.” Smooth. Great job. Wow. Fuck. Maybe you could drown yourself in this coffee? You take a sip and to spite being too shy to ask for sugar or milk this coffee is great, actually smooth. Unlike you. “This is great, what is this?” You try.    Why do you try? He always notices, you're luckier than you know that it endlessly amuses him rather than annoys him. “It's Peaberry Coffee from Tanzania, it's a rounder sweeter bean, almost tea like.” He explains, allowing for a moment for you to believe you've somehow fooled him into letting his prior question go thoroughly unanswered. “It can take a more refined palette to taste all the notes.” He remarks.    “I don't know how refined mine is, I just know it's nice.”
You admit with a small laugh.    “Usually our tongues know more than we think, close your eyes and allow the flavours to dance over your tongue.” He instructed.    Hannibal could tell you to jump off a cliff and if he said it nice enough you probably would. You take a small breath and take another sip and try your damnest to impress Hannibal if only even a little but as you swallow you know your guesses are little more than shots in the dark. “It's sweet...kind of like a berry...?” You weakly pitch.    You're not wrong but Hannibal can tell your guess isn't confident. “Do you know you have a habit of coming in on yourself when you're unsure of what you're saying?” He asks letting you know he's been on to you for much longer than you would have hoped. He comes around from his large kitchen island to stand in front of you and you fight the urge to step back and away which only adds to how hard your heart beats in your chest. “Coming in on ones self allows negative neurons to fire, by simply lifting your head you'll allude more confidence and though red looks lovely on you so does that.” That compliment alone made your head spin so his next action of bringing his warm hand up to gently lift your head? Your entire body felt weak. It was laughable that the simple touch of his thumb resting on your chin and his forefinger below it could have such an effect on you, looking up at him him with unsure eyes as to where this went next was laughable to him. You were putty in his hands, vulnerable in every meaning of the word. "Try again, close your eyes and when you take a sip allow it to work around your mouth, to explore every inch of your tongue.”    Was this porn? This could be porn, this might as well be porn as far as your body was concerned apparently. It took you a moment to actually get your limbs to move and grab your coffee again and it felt good to close your eyes, you liked Hannibal but being so close and having him stare back at you was overwhelming. And he knew it, there was something very satisfying about your kind of vulnerability, it was raw and open for him to touch and mold with his hands. You brought the cup to your lips and took another sip and once again tried to find a defined note in this coffee and maybe it was having your head tilted up, maybe it was having him so close but an answer did come from your mouth. “Cedar?”    Opening your eyes you knew you'd gotten it right by the contented look you were rewarded with. "I had a hunch your tongue knew more than you were letting on.” He teased.    He let his thumb trail back and forth on your chin before moving it away and your head felt like it was floating. “What does your tongue taste? I'm sure it's much more experienced than mine.”     You're sure if you didn't feel so floaty such a blatantly flirty question wouldn't have come out of you but it seemed to fly just fine as a small amused breath made it's way out of him. “Your assumption would be correct.” He let you know. “The notes in this coffee I've become very acquainted with over the years so it wouldn't be much of an exercise in taste for me to tell you them all. Perhaps another breakfast we could expand upon both our tongues.” Your entire body clenched and you had to practically drown out your whine of want by taking a sip of your coffee. “For now we'll be expanding on yours, come, wash up I'll show you how to make uova al purgatorio, a taste from my past.” He said walking back around the kitchen island.    You follow him around the island and with one last sip put your empty coffee cup into the sink. --- ~Admin Coral 🍒 Buy Me A Coffee?
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bbykpoper · 3 years
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Chapter 1 // Masterlist
GENRE: mafia au, fluff, a bit of smut, a smudge of angst if you squint your eyes hard enough, possible fantasy????
SYNOPSIS: A centuries old feud which kept itself silent suddenly ignites once again as two warring gangs face each other for the first time. A family of established immortals who came together after the war, a band of humans who began remembering their past lives and officials breathing down their neck threaten the world once again as fantasy and reality clash in the form of a young man hell bent on being in the lead and a young woman hell bent on ending this meaningless feud. A story will unfold before you now, questioning your morals as well as grinding your nerves to the edge.
“A princess turned assassin?”
“A coward turned prince?”
Who will survive the last wave of this war?
°˖✧
“My hands are stained with blood... yet again...” There came a soft whisper in the distance as droplets of red fell to the floor.
The strong stench of blood glided to the young man’s nostrils as he observed the scene before him. A body laid on the ground, it’s face unrecognizable as a young woman of short stature stood, her fists slightly bruised and bloody. Her strong willed eyes were trained on him and he extended his arm to beckon her towards him. 
“You’re becoming more vicious in your battles.” He spoke as the young woman moved towards him, jumping down from the ring in which two other men began cleaning the now deceased body. “What seems to be bothering you?”
“It seems our rivals have decided to invade our business inside the ring.” The girl let her companion clean her fists as she observed the body being thrown out. “The boy they sent was said to be a rising star in their ranks, his ego decided to challenge me and he ended up where he is now. It angers me how much they seem to refuse to stay in peace and in their own lanes.”
“It seems that they wish to take over the underworld.” The man’s groaning blue eyes met her dark ones. “Forcas calls for us all. It seems he has had enough of peace as well.”
With a small nod she went after the taller man, covering her face more with the black mask she grew used to. It was rare to see her without it, but today she decided to keep her face free, so that it would be the last thing her poor oponent saw before she beat him to death without mercy. 
“Would you like my jacket?” Her companion asked her as he noticed the attire she sported. A simple sports bra and leggings. 
Not exactly an outfit she would like to show herself in before the head of their family, but the meeting seemed urgent, and she didn’t have time to change.
“No, it’s quite fine.” She simply stated, climbing into the black SUV after him. “The meeting seems urgent, has he finally come to terms with what it is we are to do?”
“By his tone of voice, I would say it’s quite serious.” Her companion placed his hand on hers, his eyes trained on the clear night sky as the stars twinkled in his eyes. “The stars have shifted drastically. Our futures are in danger Fae. Yours more so than ours.”
The woman didn’t say anything as she kept quiet beside him, allowing their fingers to weave together. They both felt each others pulse through their wrist, something which calmed them down and finally the woman could breathe more calmly and freely. The car took a swift turn into the outskirts of town and headed down the road, getting further on the outskirts. Soon enough the car pulled up to a large mansion in the middle of nowhere, two large men opening the doors for the two passengers.
“Good evening Miss, Sir.” They greeted them and both nodded their heads in greeting. “Leader is waiting for you in the war room.”
The small woman rolled her eyes at the mention of the room but still obediently followed their guide. As they entered she felt a sudden warmth crawl up her skin and she moved to the left, evading the overly excited man-child that hit her companion straight on. 
“Why did you move?” He whinned turning to her. “I don’t want to hug Tae, I wanted to hug you y/n.”
“Stop whinning Jungkook.” Her companion spoke up as he helped steady him on his legs. “She did that to tease you.” He rolled his eyes along.
“Is that true?” He went over to her.
“A little bit.” She answered him with a small giggle. “You’re just super cute when you get frustrated.” She pinched his cheeks, laughing when he slapped her hand away.
“I’m a grown man, older than you not to mention and handsome.” He gritted out with a pout. “I’m not cute.”
The trio went further into the large mansion, small talk flowing between them with ease. The room they were going to was located on the first floor but deeper into the mansion, closer to the west wing. The interior was decorated like a European museum if you asked any person that came to visit. Golden chandeliers, paintings lining the walls, an elaborate statue here and there, and of course high doors and even higher ceilings. The young woman and her companion still kept holding hands as they were announced in the room and they took their respected seats at the oval shapped table housing 8 seats that were now finally full.
“Congradulations on your win y/n.” The tallest amongs them spoke up, a soft smile on his features. “I hear the young boy is unrecognizable.”
“Thank you. I tried to not let my emotions take over me.” She spoke up, swiftly taking off her mask. “But then he decided to open his mouth and I just didn’t have the strength to control myself anymore.”
“I’ve heard.” A small hologram began showing the file of the man who she had her fight with earlier this night. “Na Jaemin. The boy wonder of NCT who was supposed to quietly climb up in the ring but he just had to run his mouth next to our little y/n here.” The man laughed. “It seems he was favoured by their bomb expert Taeil.” 
“Does this mean they will retaliate by blowing me up?” The girl raised her eyebrow earning a hearty laugh from her left.
“No no, they aren’t that dumb.” The man who sat next to her had the widest smile on his face, bopping the girl’s nose with little to no force at all. “They don’t know he is dead. Well, not yet at least.” 
“They don’t know?” Tae asked from her right side.
“No. We made sure that people think that we just kindly locked him up somewhere.” A man next to Jungkook spoke up, drawing their attention to him. “For now, we made sure that nobody from that match says a word outside on the streets. We don’t need children on our doorstep seeking vengance.”
“I’m sorry.” She spoke up.
“Why are you apologizing?” The head of the table asked, visibly confused.
“I let my emotions take over and I killed him.” She sighed, slumping in her seat.
“Kid, your job is to kill off the pests we don’t need.” The man with distinctive red eyes spoke up to her, he stood up and walked over to her, earning Taehyung’s side eye. “Everybody that goes up against you in the ring knows what the fate is if it’s your bad day.” The man squated next to her, sliding his hand up her arm to cup her cheek. “Now I know you weren’t having a bad day, so what did he say to you that made you so angry?”
“He commented how he’d easily take me down and make me his little cock hold afterwards.” She said with an unamused facial expression, which had seven different men stare at her with wide, angry eyes.
“I say, we kill the whole den of idiots.” Jungkook said, already on his feet ready to leave.
“Take a seat Azazel.” The head of the table spoke up, silencing the whole room. 
“My poor baby.” The hand gently caressed her cheek, pulling back and standing straight. “What should we do Forcas? The NCT pests have been getting bolder. And now they are trying to take us out from the business we began?”
“I know, though I have this idea which I think you will like.” The head of the table, a tall man with sleeked back grey hair, smirked with danger in his golden eyes. 
°˖✧
On the other side of the city, deep in the abandoned district of Seoul, a group of men decided to come together this night, worried faces painting all of the newcommers. The two people standing guard at the front looked at each other when the final car pulled up and the two men walked in.
“Isn’t it weird that the big bosses are here?” One of the men spoke up.
“Yeah, but to be honest are you surprised?” The other sighed. 
The inside was fairly nicely decorated, the inspiration coming from old Italian mafia films, the distinctive arches holding up most of the structure. The dinning room was currently occupied with seven people, two of them standing and facing each other in a heated argument. The newcommers that took a seat at the table sighed as they calmly looked up at the two standing men in the middle of an argument. 
“Both of you, that’s enough.” One of the men spoke, his dark blue hair neatly styled as his eyebrow stood up in disapprovement. “Lucas, Baby. Sit down.”
With a groan the two addressed sat down with glares still present on their faces. 
“Is everyone present?” He added on, looking over to his right hand man, a tall, fair haired young man.
“Everyone that needs to be.” He answered.
“Good. Johnny you may take over with the report.” The blue haired man said, loosening the tie around his neck while the fair haired man stood up and went over to the head of the dinning table.
“Thank you Boss.” Johnny spoke up and looked over his notes, his eyes stopping at the picture of the masked girl. “As you all know, we’ve successfully infeltrated the underground fight ring of the Bangtan hold and I’ve recieved intel that Na Jaemin has progressed in the ring. Sooner or later he will be going up against their top fighters. However, he has not conntacted his superior so what’s the deal with that Taeil?”
“I don’t know, he had strict instructions to conntact me when he jumped ranks in the ring but he hasn’t.” An aggitated man answered his question, barely looking up from his laptop.
“I’m telling you, the kid is fine. He’s probably just shagging a girl or two. Typical Jaemin stuff.” One of the men who was standing and arguing earlier spoke up, Lucas to be more precise.
“No! He is not.” The other, Haechan cut in. “He’s dead. He was made and they probably killed him!”
“Calm down both of you!” The dark blue haired man, Boss, yelled out. The silence following becoming eerie. “Let Johnny finnish and then on your own time go and beat it out or shoot each other but not now!”
“Thank you Boss.” Johnny smirked, turning to the table and throwing down a letter and a few pictures. “Haechan was right about one thing. Na Jaemin was made and we got this letter delivered today.” The reactions to the news of one of their own being made had them all turn serious, eyes fixed on the pictures on the table. “These are the three Bangtan members responsible for the underground fight scene.” He pointed to the first picture. “Azazel, lead recruiter whose blessing you need to enter the ring or even be thought of participating.” His finger moved to the second picture and his breath withered a bit in his thorat as he said the name. “Fae, leader and fighter. She is the one responsible and the big boss down there. They say nobody survives a fight with her.” His gaze stayed lingering on the picture until Boss cleared his throat and Johnny moved on to the last picture. “And lastly Solas, Fae’s right hand man, always by her side.” Then he raised the piece of paper from the table. “This is an invitation letter to a race they are holding tomorrow night. It’s signed by Forcas, their leader and it states that if we wish to know more information about Na Jaemin’s situation we better show up.It’s addressed to you personaly Moon Taeil.”
“What is their game?” The person in question turned his head to face the taller boy. “Why address it to me?”
“They are aware that Jaemin was under you. Which makes me wonder what more are they aware of?” Boss spoke, glancing at Johnny. “Brain, Johnny and Bulls Eye. You three will visit the race. Take one of the cars if yoou have to. Find out what they want, but be careful. We may never know what awaits at those organized races they hold.”
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whynotwinnie · 3 years
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Timida part 3: Roger Taylor x OC
sorry it took so long college is kicking my ass rn but thank you for all the support y’all have given me i’m going to start writing the next part rn thank y’all - bennie <3
T/w: body dysmorphia, talks of anxiety and depression, cussing
MICKEY
Throughout the night you woke up a total of 4 times getting frustrated you sat up and stared at the clock 4:13 in the afternoon. You flopped back on the bed, you should’ve gone to bed earlier.
You swung your legs to the edge of your bed and hopped down popping your back as you made your way to your shower. You turned on the hot water and let it run while you stripped yourself of your clothes. You turned yourself toward the mirror staring at your body, oh it was going to be one of those days. You turned from side to side checking your figure and felt the tears start to form in your eyes. 
You stepped into your shower and started to cry while the hot water hit your back. You always got these weird mood swings where you felt like shit and wanted to hide from the world, you would say these mood swings happened at least once a week. You know you probably needed some type of help for it but as of right now you didn’t have the time or the funds to deal with that. 
You spent a little extra time in the shower resulting in the hot water running out and turning freezing cold. You groaned and turned it off grabbing a towel to dry your body, when you were leaving the restroom you made sure to avoid looking in the mirror. 
You grabbed a different big t-shirt to use as pajamas and threw on a random pair of house shorts and headed to your work area to finish whatever orders you didn’t start on last night.
Making quick work with the simple alterations you sat bored after folding the last article of clothing nicely. You got up from your desk and walked around your small apartment trying to find something to keep you occupied until it was time to call Roger.
Deciding you should make an early dinner you went to your kitchen area in your flat. The flat itself was small and the only way you could describe it was tolerable. It was one bed, one bathroom flat the only reason why you ended up signing your lease was that it was cheap and had an open living room area so you can set up all your work stuff there. But that also meant that your living room was always a mess with scrap fabric on the floor, 2 working mannequins plus the broken one being propped up by the wall, your huge old sewing machine that was way too loud, and a wardrobe that you found on the street that you cleaned and kept some spare fabric and clothes in.
You decided that you were going to make chicken and rice, you would’ve had beans but you ran out a week ago and never got the time to go get groceries. As you seasoned your chicken you made a promise to yourself that you would go get groceries tomorrow. 
Then your phone rang.
“Shit,” you said while you left your chicken on the stove, quickly checking the time before you answered 6:05 it seemed too early for it to be Roger.
“Hello?” you said to the phone wondering who it could be.
“Mickey?”
“Oh hey Roger, I wasn’t expecting you to call this early,” 
“Yeah, sorry about that.” he signed into the receiver “Remember when I told you yesterday how we had a really good practice, well today was shit.”
“I’m sorry about that Roger, what happened?”
“Well, Brian and I couldn’t get on the same page to save our lives he kept insisting that there needed to be a guitar solo in every fucking song when there really shouldn’t.” 
He kept his rant going for a few minutes talking about solos and songs you just tried to keep up with the names and strange vocabulary he was using. It wasn’t until you started to smell burning when you remembered your chicken on the stove.
“Fucking shit hold on Roger.” you dropped the phone and ran to the chicken taking the pan off the burner. The chicken was black on the bottom and stuck to the pan.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” you did your best to scrape the chicken in the trash but some stayed stuck you would have to deal with that later. You turned your rice off before that could burn too, you guess rice for dinner would do.
You threw the pan in the sink and turned on the water and watched the steam come off the pan, you never had this happen before you were a pretty good cook it came naturally after your mother made you help her cook for your whole family. But burning something if she could see you now she would be so disappointed, well she’s always disappointed in you nothing you could do to change that.
You turned off the water and went back to the phone.
“Hey sorry about that.” you sighed into the phone
“Is everything okay Mickey? You really had me worried.”
“Everything is fine now I had started making chicken right before you called and I didn’t keep an eye on it but now it’s burnt.” 
“This is all my fault, I bored you with all my stupid problems.”
“No, you didn’t! I should’ve known better.”
“You have to let me make it up to you.” 
You paused for a second. “Don’t be silly it’s just chicken.”
“Let me take you for dinner.”
“I- When?” you said softly
“Right now.”
You didn’t say anything, you weren’t ready or anything like that.
“Unless you don’t want to go that’s okay too.”
You panicked “No, I would love to it’s just that I look like a mess right now.”
“I bet you’re lying, I want to see you Mickey please let me take you for dinner. If not for me then for the poor chicken you just burned.”
You laughed. “Okay then.”
“Great, what’s your address I’ll pick you up.”
You stopped, was it smart to give him your address? No. 
“Or we can meet there Mickey. I’m fine with either.” 
You didn’t have a car, you knew how to drive and all that but after one time where your mom yelled at you for making too sharp of a turn you always got nervous when you got behind the wheel. So you walked or biked everywhere now. 
You decided to give him your address and in the worst-case scenario maybe Dayla would tell the police it was Roger who murdered you. But you doubt that would happen. He said he’ll be there in fifteen and that you didn’t live far from each other.
You rushed to get ready putting on black jeans and another t-shirt much like the same outfit you first saw him in except this time you decided to put on a little mascara and to fill in your eyebrows.
While you were tying your shoes you heard the buzzer “Hey Mick it’s Roger can you buzz me in?”
Your heart fluttered at the new nickname he had for you “Yeah Roger, I’ll meet you down there.” as you buzzed him in.
You practically ran to the elevator cursing it for taking so long and once it opened at the lobby you saw him there looking extremely good and with flowers in hand.
“Roger!” You called him over.
“Hey Mick, these are for you,” he said as he handed you a bouquet of carnation flowers.
“Thank you so much!” you said as you grabbed them he looked down at you and you leaned into him for a short embrace. 
“Would you like to come up for a bit so I can put these in water,” you asked hoping he wouldn’t get the wrong idea.
“Yeah of course.”
You both took the elevator back to your floor in comfortable silence and then you walked him to your door.
“It’s a bit of mess right now and it still smells burnt.” You said as you opened the door.
He took a look around as he walked in “I like it.”
“You don’t have to lie Roger.” you laughed as you filled a vase with water.
“I’m not I like it, it’s cozy even with the burnt smell,” he said as he grinned at you.
“Please don’t remind me.” You groaned as you set the flower vase on the small dining table you had.
He laughed and walked toward your living room “Oh wow.”
“Yeah, that was the mess I was talking about.” you cringed at how it must look.
“This is where you work?” 
You shook your head yes.
He walked to the dress you made last night hanging on the mannequin.
“Did you do this?” he asked eyes wide. 
“Yeah.”
“Like you made it made it, not like hemmed it or anything,” he said not believing you.
“Yeah, look.” you flipped the back of the dress to show the custom made tags your aunt had made for you when you lived with her. The tag said “Luci’s Attire” it was the best idea you had at the time.
“Wow, this is really good Mickey like for real.”
You grinned at him it felt good being seen. 
“Thank you, Roger.” You smiled at him.
“Hey, before we go is it okay if I use your bathroom before we go?”
“Yeah of course.” You led him to the bathroom and told him you would be in the living room.
You decided to crack open a window to help get rid of the burnt smell feeling less nervous about hanging out with Roger. 
You both left your apartment building shoulders touching feeling the cool September air blow through your hair. He opened the door to his car with a huge smile on his face. You gave a soft thanks and sat in his car. 
The car itself was really nice probably the nicest car you have ever been in. The outside was painted in a sleek black and the inside leather was all red. You were honestly scared to touch anything so you kept your hands on your lap. Roger got in the driver’s seat and turned to you.
“Is it okay if we go to this place I know they serve the best Italian food.”
“The best?” you said with an eyebrow raised.
“Well, the best I had, actually maybe we should go somewhere else.” He said while reversing.
“No, I would like to go actually.” You said laughing
“I don’t think it’s a good idea now Mick-”
“Please Roger.” You said with a pleading voice.
He did a quick double-take at you and gave a small smile.
He turned the dial of his radio to change the channel.
“What kind of music do you like listening to?” he asked
“Can I be honest?” you said low
“Yes please.”
“I like American music.” You said laughing.
“AMERICAN MUSIC! Mickey you have got to be kidding me!”
“I’m sorry Roger I don’t know why I’m just obsessed with America for some reason.”
“Mickey we are probably living in the best era of music in Great Britain and you choose America. It’s simply not patriotic of you.” 
“Well, I’m not from the UK Roger! Also, I could’ve sworn you put on more of an accent than you really have on ” you said laughing
“I did not! Don’t change the subject either!”
“Yes, you did you said ‘Amerikah’ like you were the Queen herself.”
“Ok maybe but come on Mickey!”
“I like music from here too, the first song I heard that was in English was the Beatles.”
“And you think American music is better?!”
“Just purely because I have this fascination with America. And I do like music from here and Spain and Italy it has nothing to do with-”
“Alright alright alright, but I’ll show you some real music.”
He pulled into the Italian restaurant and of course, it was named “Giovanni’s Italian Restaurant” You almost rolled your eyes. 
“Let’s go,” he said with a smile as he opened your door for you.
Taglist <3: @johnricharddeacy
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bitterlikesweets · 3 years
Text
Love Bites Ch 1
This is the first chapter of a modern/vampire AU ereri fanfic. You can also read it on AO3. 
Next
Eren doesn’t know why he let Mikasa and Armin convince him to come out tonight. 
As much as he would’ve loved to eat in a restaurant like Kuchel’s Kitchen a few months ago, he can’t help but be appalled as he stands like a traffic cone in the doorway, large and obviously out of place and in the way of everyone nearby. It looks nice enough from the outside—a little brick building squeezed between the local bookstore and a discount department store—but the inside smells like cheese and herbs and garlic, and Eren simply cannot believe his friends thought this was a good idea. 
His nose is already burning, but Mikasa has apparently grown tired of his hesitance and tugs on his arm.
“Come on, Eren, you can’t stand there all night,” she says, yanking him hard enough that he’s forced to stumble inside. 
“Can’t we eat somewhere else?” he asks, casting a wary glance around the restaurant. 
It’s close to closing, and most of the tables are empty. The white and yellow tiled floors even look freshly mopped. Eren winces when he makes eye contact with the red-haired waitress across the room and lowers his voice, quickly shifting his gaze away from her curious green eyes. 
“Anywhere else,” he hisses. “I mean, seriously, Italian?”
“You love Italian food,” Armin pipes up from behind Mikasa’s shoulder.
“I know, but—”
“You said you wanted to try being normal again, and this was our normal,” Mikasa says sharply, though her face suddenly twists and her dark-eyed gaze drops to the floor. “As close as we can get, anyway.”
When her grip on his arm loosens, Eren’s stomach painfully knots itself together, and he places his hand over hers. Armin comes closer, his hand coming to rest over Eren’s, and Eren heaves a sigh, squeezing his eyes shut as they begin to burn as badly as his nose, though for different reasons. He lets himself take a deep breath for a moment, and he allows the smells to really hit his sensitive nose. Though the restaurant seems fairly new—Eren’s certainly never been here before—there’s familiarity in the smell of freshly-cooked food. 
“Okay,” he says after a moment, “let’s try to be normal.”
The waitress who watched their strange display of affection comes towards them, menus in hand, when they finally settle down at a table. Her gaze lingers just a bit longer on Eren, and he stiffens, pulling up the collar of his turtleneck, wondering if something has given him away. Did his sweater slip down and she saw the scar? Is it the turtleneck itself? It is the middle of summer, but it’s late and beyond its covering aspects, the sweater helps him deal with the way his body now runs cold. Surely, the night time chill is a good enough excuse.
The redhead walks away with the promise to bring their drinks—waters all around—without a word to Eren, but that gaze has him pulling his long hair out of its bun, hoping to cover whatever he can.
“Eren,” Mikasa says, nudging his foot under the table, “relax.”
“I’m trying,” he says. 
Trying to be normal again. That’s what they were going for. Trying to pretend that Eren hasn’t upended his entire schedule, changed jobs, switched all his classes to their evening sections, dropping them when it wasn’t possible. Trying to pretend that his family was okay, that there isn’t something burning within him, something that he hasn’t been able to shake for months now. 
Trying to pretend that the smells don’t hurt his nose, that his teeth aren’t too big for his mouth. That he’s not thirsty in the way the water won't fix. 
Yeah. Perfectly normal. 
He keeps himself busy with the menu and tries to think. Tries to pretend that he doesn’t notice when Armin and Mikasa sneak nervous glances in his direction.
The red-haired waitress is back within a few minutes, and Eren makes a point to not meet her gaze; he instead focuses on her messy pigtails, her short stature, and the movement of her hands as she quickly writes down their orders.
He completely averts his gaze when it’s time for him to make his special request. 
“With the lasagna,” he begins, and he feels like his neck is burning, like she’s staring right where his scar is, even though he knows that it’s covered. “Can it be made without garlic? I have… an allergy.”
“Uh… I’ll ask?” 
Eren makes the mistake of looking up and catching the funny look she sends his way before she walks back to the kitchen. He drags his hands across his face with a sigh. 
“I shouldn’t have let you convince me to do this,” Eren grumbles, glaring at his friends between his fingers. 
“We didn’t want you to continue rotting in your bedroom,” Mikasa says. 
“When you taste the food, it’ll all be worth it!” Armin adds with a smile, but Eren just sinks down in his chair, sipping at his water with a frown.
They’re silent until the waitress returns with their orders, and the sight of the steaming dishes does allow Eren to perk up for a moment. He pulls himself up to sit up straight, inhaling the steam rising off of his plate of lasagna. He notices when Mikasa and Armin smile at the sight of his actions, and he smiles back at them, grabbing his fork. His nose is still aching and twitching, but he puts it up to being the scent of the restaurant, or probably because of the close proximity to Armin’s shrimp and pesto pasta.
That thought is what makes the instant burn in his mouth such a surprise. He feels it, feels the way the forkful of lasagna seems like its burning through his tongue, like the sauce is acid. And then he hears it, hears the unpleasant sizzle, and it’s his body's instincts that make his teeth feel too big, too long, too sharp in his mouth. He nearly swallows the thing before Armin practically lunges across the table and presses a napkin to Eren’s mouth, reminding him that he needs to spit the thing out, not attempt to digest it. 
Eren feels like a kid as he spits into the napkin in Armin’s hand, wincing as that little bite slides across the expanse of his tongue, leaving a burning, painful trail across his taste buds. He coughs and wipes his mouth with his sleeve, startling himself when part of his breath comes out in a puff of smoke. Even with the food out of his mouth, the pain lingers, and he hears the flesh in his mouth sizzling and popping, like his saliva is carbonated. 
So much for normal. 
Mouth aching, but the immediate danger decidedly passed, he finally looks across the table at his friends. Well, friend, Eren notices with some confusion. Armin has gone back to his seat, staring miserably at the little napkin that he’s folding around the lump of just barely eaten lasagna, but Mikasa is suddenly nowhere to be found. He twists around in his chair, about to scan the room for her and then—
“What part of garlic allergy do you not fucking understand?!”
And like that, he’s found her. She’s cornering the waitress by the door to the kitchen, towering over the red-headed woman. Her hands are clenched into fists, and she’s practically shaking with rage. Eren can’t see her face, but knowing her for as long as he has, he can imagine the glare, the murderous intent in her eyes. 
“Sorry,” Eren hears, but it’s Armin’s voice, not the waitress’s. “I… I wanted to… Because I thought it’d be a good idea to let you have something similar to Mrs. Jaeger’s cooking—” 
“It’s fine,” Eren says quickly, struggling around his injured tongue and enlarged teeth. 
He doesn’t want to talk about it. Not now. Not yet. Not on their failure of a normal night. 
So Eren is grateful when Armin falls silent. 
Desperate to distract himself—both from the pain and from Armin’s guilty expression as the blond continues to wrap the lasagna lump in napkins like it's a little gift—Eren hurries to his feet and rushes over to where Mikasa is still bullying that poor waitress, though she has at least bothered to lower her voice a bit. 
“I swear, I thought I wrote it down—” the waitress begins.
“Well, either you didn’t, or your chef’s a selfish asshole who doesn’t care about his customers.”
Eren watches as the waitress's attitude suddenly shifts, green eyes narrowing into a glare. 
“Don’t talk about Levi like that,” she says, her voice low. 
“I’ll talk about him like that if he’s the idiot who fucked up my friend’s order,” Mikasa snapped back.
“Mikasa,” Eren warns, reaching out to grab her by the shoulder, to pull her back. 
“I said don’t—”
Whatever the waitress was going to say devolves into a screech as the door she was leaning on is abruptly pulled open, sending her toppling to the floor. The man with his hand on the handle looks down at the woman now sprawled on the floor with a frown. His gaze slowly rises to Mikasa and then shifts to Eren. Something instinctual, something he doesn’t quite understand makes Eren straighten up once that gray-blue gaze settles on him. 
“What’s going on?” the man asks, his gaze dropping to the waitress again. 
“Levi!” she exclaims, “I can explain—”
“One of the two of you nearly killed my friend, even though we specifically told her that he can’t have garlic,” Mikasa snaps, shaking off the hand that Eren forgot he still had placed on her shoulder. 
“Nearly killed is a bit of an exaggeration,” Eren says because they’re already making enough of a scene, and he seriously doesn’t know how he’s going to explain that his garlic “allergy” nearly burnt a hole through his tongue.
The man—Levi—wipes his hands on his apron, and Eren takes in his appearance. He’s a short man, black-haired, and despite the situation, Eren is distracted by the fact that the man is also wearing a turtleneck. Eren's grateful that he’s not the only one, that the stupid worry that he was sticking out like a sore thumb because of his clothes was probably just that—a stupid worry.
“Isabel,” Levi says to the waitress, “I don’t remember seeing a note that one of the dishes couldn’t have garlic.”
“I wrote it down, I swear!” Isabel quickly gets to her feet, careful to keep her distance from Mikasa all the while, and then she quickly pulls a piece of paper out of her pocket, presumably what she wrote their orders on. 
She leans closer to Levi, pointing to a spot on the page that he gazes at impassively.
“Isabel, that’s says ‘no gar.’”
“Yeah,” she replies, frowning up at Levi. “No gar. No garlic.”
Levi heaves a sigh and pinches the bridge of his nose between his fingers. 
“You can’t just make up new abbreviations without telling me—”
“I thought it was obvious!”
“Well, clearly it wasn’t. Why didn’t you just write out the whole word?”
“It’s not my fault that—”
Levi silences her with a heavy hand on her head, forcing her to dip her head in apology, and Levi quickly does the same. 
“I’m sorry for the actions of my employee,” Levi says, and it’s robotic, rehearsed. Eren wonders how many times the man has had to say these same words.
“It’s okay,” Eren says quickly, taking the chance to step in front of Mikasa and gradually nudge her away from the two restaurant employees. “Sorry about the fuss.”
“How bad was it?” Levi asks suddenly, his head still lowered. “The allergic reaction.”
Eren immediately turns to glare at Mikasa, who grows pale. How the hell is he supposed to explain? He doesn’t have any real allergies. He has no idea what they’re supposed to be like, but he’s eighty percent sure the trouble usually starts after the food’s ingested, not right when it hits a person’s tongue. 
“Not too bad,” Eren says after a moment, even though his tongue still feels raw and when he’s not careful he brushes the sensitive flesh with the sharp points of his teeth, which are still too fucking big, goddammit. 
“We’re lucky we noticed quickly,” Mikasa pipes up from behind Eren.
“I’ll compensate you,” Levi says, raising his head finally, and Eren doesn’t miss the way Isabel tries to shift her head and get the man to meet her gaze. A silent question that the man seems to pointedly ignore. “Are you old enough to drink?”
The word “drink” makes Eren freeze up, even though he’s sure that the man doesn’t mean it that way. He knows that there’s no way the man would know. But Eren's body goes rigid, and Mikasa’s nervous fingers clutching the back of his sweater don't ease his suspicions. He tries to swallow his nerves, but his tongue is heavy in his mouth and now there’s too much saliva and it just feels like he’s quietly choking. 
“Drink…?” he asks hesitantly.
“Are you of age?” Levi asks.
“I-uh, yeah, I’m—” Eren clears his throat, trying to get his mouth to catch up with his mind. “I’m twenty-two. So yes.”
Eren isn’t sure what part of his answer makes Levi raise a thin black eyebrow at him, but he’s just relieved the man was talking about alcohol. 
“Head back to your table,” Levi says, and he glances sidelong at Isabel. “I’ll serve you myself.”
The man turns on his heel and marches into the kitchen without another word, and Isabel quickly follows behind him, though she throws a final glare at Mikasa before closing the door behind them. Eren rubs his eyes with his cold palms and barely holds in a frustrated groan. 
He’s tired and he’s frustrated, and his injured tongue is not helping his thirst. If anything the pain is activating his body's desire to heal, and it's realizing it has nothing to work with. 
“Sorry,” Mikasa mumbles as they walk back to the table. 
Eren waves his hand at her dismissively, no longer in the mood. He’s just grateful that the restaurant was practically empty; he has no idea what he would do if there were even more people around to witness that disaster. He wants to go home, but he sits at the table and buries his face in his hands. He doesn’t know what would be more suspicious at this point; staying after Mikasa was so clearly upset, or leaving without getting whatever drink Levi is offering as compensation. 
“What just happened?” Armin asks, and Eren reluctantly raises his head out of his hands. “I couldn’t really hear from over here. What are we doing? Are we leaving?” 
Mikasa looks at Eren, which makes Armin look at Eren, so Eren stares at the table. He notices that Armin has tidied up their table, piling their utensils and barely touched plates. He’s already laid out cash to pay for the food too. Knowing Armin, he probably already calculated the tip. Eren sucks in a breath. They could probably leave now, with everything prepped for their quick departure like this. 
He tentatively presses his tongue against the roof of his mouth, and immediately flinches from the pain. His mouth is still hot, and although he’s concerned that alcohol might aggravate the injury even more, he would love something to cool his tongue down. 
“We’ll wait for the drink,” Eren says, “and then we leave and never come back.”
Armin nods, and Mikasa pulls up a chair, and the three friends wait in tense silence. Levi arrives within a few minutes with a glass of wine that he places in front of Eren. 
“I hope it suits your tastes,” Levi said, but his tone is surprisingly cold in comparison to the polite words. 
Eren slowly reaches out for the glass, not at all thrilled to have waited just for wine, which he’s never been particularly fond of, but when he feels the cool glass beneath his fingertips, he quickly changes his tune. 
As he pulls the drink to his lips, he catches the scent, and he can’t tell if he’s been smelling too many herbs or if the wine really does smell as delicious as Eren thinks it does. He takes a greedy sip without another thought, at first surprised because it’s a bit thicker than he remembers—
He chokes.
Mikasa’s on her feet in a second, and Armin is hurrying to Eren’s side of the table to see what’s wrong, but Eren’s too focused on Levi because he can’t believe—there’s no way that this man, this stranger, has willingly handed Eren a glass of blood.
Levi doesn’t say anything, doesn’t move a single muscle in his face, even as Eren stares up at him incredulously. 
“You’re not going to finish?” the man asks after a moment of tense silence. “That stuff’s not cheap.”
Levi rolls his wrist, and Eren’s gaze is drawn to the movement, and he notices that there’s something beneath Levi’s sleeve, a lump that circles around the man’s wrist and extends a bit towards his forearm. 
Eren’s tongue is cool and his teeth are big and his mouth is dry even though that’s the first drink he’s had in months. He slams the glass down on the table, still half full with blood, and he gets up quickly, not even flinching at the screech of his chair dragging across the tile floors. He tries to wipe at his face with his sleeve but now that delicious smell is just smeared on his face and on his sleeve and Eren wants to down the rest of the blood in the glass but he also wants to vomit the amount that’s already in his stomach.
“Thanks for the food,” he says curtly, pushing past Levi. 
For the briefest of moments, Eren thinks he sees the man’s eyes widen, but it doesn’t matter because Eren is grabbing Mikasa by the arm and leading her out, and Armin is following and Eren never wants to set foot in this fucking place ever again. 
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