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#yes i think the pasta mafia got her
agawilder · 5 months
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The moment when u suddenly click a filter on your work and it looks better than org (0_--)
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She belives in pasta monster from now on i guess... I think its the italian filter making ppl so hot
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nynxhaswritersblockk · 5 months
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Just a little something I was thinking of while looking through my old Wattpad account and the library I had on there 🙂
TW: Guns, italian Mafia, threatening, kidnapping, yk the drill :3
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You always made fun of those cringy Y/N fanfics, "I put my hair in a messy bun and didn't put on any makeup" - It made you laugh. "Sold to Harry Styles, "Sold to one direction", etc. Ofcourse as a teen you read them, typical stuff that a middle, or even Highschooler during your time would do. You remember sitting in your bed when you were 13, it was 2012 at the time, you were reading those "Creepy pasta/ Jeff the Killer x Y/N" stories; Thinking back on it it was a good time, you were young and practically innocent, if not a little dirty minded due to the smut you read, but does it really matter now? Your favorite genre had always been something else though, not being sold to Harry styles or running away from home and joining the creepy pasta; a phase you got over just a few years ago, no it was something else, "Being sold to the mafia." Thinking back it's more cringe than the rest, considering that no mafia boss is a good looking, tall and muscular italian man that would buy you off your parents and call you "Amore", no, the mafia is cruel and if they were to own you, you'd just be a toy to their old, grumpy, ugly and overlooked by wrinkles boss.
You're twenty-four now, wow big age, huh? You have a loving partner and a stable job, engaged even, planning the wedding and all. Currently your husband is on a work trip, it's November third 2023 (remember this date very well), your birthday was just a few days ago and sadly you had to celebrate without your loving fiancé. The couch has become your comfort space, the chocolate lab you own laying next to you, snorting in his sleep. "Lil trashcan" is what you call him, though his actual name is "lucky"; The nickname came from him eating everything, not eating, more like inhaling.
"Lucky," You whistled after, making sure to get his full attention as you turned the TV off. He looked at you with his big brown eyes, blinking stupidly. "wanna go to bed, big guy?" You ask sweetly, scratching that specific spot on his back, the one that make his leg twitch slightly and tail wag faster than usually. You get up and pull his blanket away, he gets up, stretching on the floor and yawning, a loud high whine. You blink a few times, confused as to why your dog was always exaggerating everything.
A quick stop in the kitchen to grab your phone from it's charging station, stupid to put in the kitchen you may think, but useful when your phone is on 5% and you need a Recipe to cook something. You check it, three missed calls from "Mom", one missed call from "Dad" and four missed calls from "Liam", your brother. "Jesus" You mutter out and dial your mom's number, as she is the most calmest when you miss her calls.
"Sweetie?" Her voice calls out over the phone, slightly shaky, you're concerned now. "Hey mom, is everything alright?" She is still for a moment and you can hear your brother say something from behind her. Liam is your older brother, he's twenty-seven and even though you got the usual younger sibling treatment from him, you love him to death. "Mom?" You call out again, snapping her back to the call, "Yes, sorry, sweetie!" She quickly says and begins speaking before you could, "How fast can you be over at our house? We have something to discuss with you" She says, sounding concerned and nervous. You look at the time, it's 1am, why is she still awake? "Uhm.. I can be there in ten?" You offer and she sighs in relief, weird. "Good, see you then, sweetie!" She doesn't say anything, instead hangs up and leaves you just as confused as you had been before.
"Guess we're not going to sleep, huh? Wanna visit granny?" You say to your dog, smiling a bit as you pat his head. You put his leash on him, put on your shoes, grab your coat and pocket your phone, then you head out. After a good five minutes of trying to get your dog in the car, finally managing it, you sit in the drivers seat and start driving. A calm drive in the rainy night, a million thoughts raced your mind though. What could be stressing your mother out so much that she asks you to come over at one in the morning?
When you arrive at her house you spot a black car with a strange License plate on it, it's not an US one, neither is it from any other countries on the continent called America. You shrug, thinking it probably belongs to your mom's neighbour. You get lucky out of the car and head for your mom's door, before you can ring the doorbell it opens and you're met with a man in a black suit, he looks to be in his late thirties, early forties, maybe even older.
"Uhm Hi? Is my mom he-" *He pulls you in the house, your dog being pulled in with you as he shuts the door loudly, grabbing the leash from you and pulling the dog with him. "Living room." He says harshly and pushes you forward. Goosebumps make it's way on your skin, a lump in your throat and the hairs at the back of your neck standing up. Heavy steps lead you to the living room, your brother is sitting on the couch, a gun held to his head by a similarly old looking man, his pointer on the trigger and ready to press it at any moment. Your parents, old and frail people that devoted their life to raising you properly, stand across your brother, looking stressed out. Tears pricked at your eyes at the sight. "M-Mom?" You mumbled out, looking at her nervously. You hear the gun at your brother's head cock and your gaze snaps to the sound. "What is going on?" You whisper quietly, seeking eye contact with your brother, but he avoids it. "My my, what a sweet young woman, mh" A voice says from behind you, you turn around, your breath caught in your throat. He looks old; wrinkles around his dark brown eyes, a strong jawline, bushy eyebrows, prominent cheekbones and full lips; A creepy smile on his face. "To answer your question, your brother here has given us a slight bit of trouble," His italian accent is thick, not something you would enjoy though, "and I'm giving you a choice now, either you come back with us to our beautiful, sunny italy and I'll marry you to my son, because he's looking for a wife or your brother gets his brains blown out right infront of you and your parents." Time stops around you, you feel dizzy, a weird feeling in your gut that makes you want to throw up. Then everything is gone, the last thing you feel is your head hitting the floor and your mom's shriek as you faint.
A few hours pass by, atleast you think so, then you wake up. Duck tape over your mouth, eyes covered with a blindfold, ankles and hands tied together with rope. Where ever you're sitting is a moving vehicle, your best guess is the car you saw outside your parents's house. You want to cry, tears pricking at your eyes as you breathe heavily, the tape over your mouth restricting your breathing and stressing you out; you feel like fainting once again.
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timomaraus · 1 year
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May 9, 2023
CNN Lionel Richie's performance at the coronation concert had the King on his feet (Editor's Note: Nothing says "Charles is an old white man" quite like that headline.)
CNN Dancing royals, 'The Muppets' and Tom Cruise: The best moments from the coronation concert (Editor's Note: Those are the best moments? Really?)
CNN Why did someone dump hundreds of pounds of cooked pasta in the woods? (Editor's Note: "If you give a bear a meatball, he's going to want some pasta to go with it...")
CNN Italy wants to build the world's largest suspension bridge. The Mafia might make that difficult (Editor's Note: "That's a nice-lookin' bridge you got there. Be a shame if somethin' happened to it.")
CNN Sam Bankman-Fried wants his case thrown out of court (Editor's Note: Yeah, I'll bet he does.)
CNN 'Brad or Ben': Gwyneth Paltrow compares sex with her famous exes (Editor's Note: If you're inclined, you can watch the video and get the scoop from the Queen of Goop.)
Washington Post You can trust these 5 AI chatbots. Be wary of everything else. (Editor's Note: Yes, but was that story written by a chatbot?)
Washington Post Google's behind in AI. Its big event this week could change all that. (Editor's Note: Google's parent company is Alphabet. The company hopes to leapfrog AI entirely with the new product it will unveil this week: AEIOU.)
CNN Woman survives 5 days in the wild on wine (Editor's Note: Without wine it's estimated she would have been missing for approximately 10 hours.)
Washington Post The rich don't dress like you think they do (Editor's Note: That's right. They put their pants on two legs at a time. It's quite thrilling to see, actually.)
Washington Post Biden's nursing home staff mandates expected soon (Editor's Note: Wait, Biden has his own nursing home staff?)
Washington Post Tinned fish is the best travel gift (Editor's Note: Not for me. Do not ever think that is a travel gift I would appreciate. Tinned M&Ms, however, are just fine.)
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agustdakasuga · 4 years
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Between The Bloodshed | Chapter 14
Genre: Mafia!AU, Angst, Romance, Fluff
Pairing: OT7 x Reader
Characters: Doctor!Reader, Gangster!Namjoon, Gangster!Seokjin, Gangster!Yoongi, Gangster!Hoseok, Gangster!Jimin, Gangster!Taehyung, Gangster!Jungkook
Summary: Being a freelance doctor, this was just supposed to be any other job, helping a private client and taking care of him through his recovery. But you were not expecting to get caught in something so much darker that would change your life entirely.
Going to Florida on vacation also seemed to be the perfect time to find out where the other boys came from and their pasts. 
Warning: This story is fictional and has nothing to do with real life events or the actual members of BTS. It may contain depictions of violence, blood shed/ gore and mentions of abuse. Please read at your own discretion.
Chapter warning(s): The boys share their pasts, which can be rough. Mentions of suicide, past abuse, PTSD. There’s also quite some drinking in this chapter.
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“He’s fine. Just a little bit too much sun.” You chuckled in a whisper, tucking Jin under the blanket. With that, you exited the room with the 6 others. The oldest had felt a little faint after playing in the sun, which led to his current state.
“We should-”
RINGGGGGGG
“Ugh, one minute.” Jimin took his phone out of his pocket, walking away to answer his call. You and Jungkook looked at each other, shrugging. You headed to the living room, with you draping your legs over Hoseok to watch television, not that Hoseok minded.
“Jin hyung is asleep... That means his snacks are unguarded!” Jungkook shot up from the couch, running to the pantry.
“Nothing stand between him and food.” Taehyung raised an eyebrow. Namjoon shook his head and chuckled, bidding all of you goodbye before leaving with a book tucked under his arm.
“What’s for dinner?” Yoongi asked.
“I think steak and pasta.” Jungkook said, mouth stuffed to the brim with cookies. The staff that worked here had the same schedule as those back in Korea.
“What shall we do tonight?”
“I don’t know. We should stay in on our first night. To just... chill.” Hoseok shrugged and everyone nodded in agreement.
“Even when we put a vacation notice out, work doesn’t seem to stop coming.” Jimin stormed in, complaining. Taehyung raised an eyebrow at his best friend, shifting to let him sit on the couch.
“That’s what you get for opening a new place 2 weeks before the vacation. And a big place, with a lot of manpower needed.” Jungkook scoffed. Jimin sighed, full of regret. He had opened a new male host lounge for ladies 2 weeks ago and safe to say, the business was booming. His phone was ringing non-stop from wanting business partners.
“I’ll just leave it to the others to handle.” Jimin said.
“Yeah, put the phone away. You’re here to relax.” You put your hands behind your head.
“I’m guessing you did the same?” Yoongi faced you.
“My family knows I’m on vacation. There’s an emergency number if they really need to reach me, which I doubt they will. It’s my last vacation before I have to hear my mother start nagging me again.” You rolled your eyes.
“Nag you?” Taehyung tilted his head.
“My brother’s, her star child, is coming into town with my very pregnant sister-in-law for the birth of her second grandchild.” You explained and the boys all nodded, understanding. At the ball where they met your parents, there was a brief mention of your older brother.
“I was an only child. Never had siblings. Omma was worried that if she had another, he or she would come out sick like me.” Jimin forced a smile.
“I’m sorry, Chim.” You reached over to hold his hand.
“It’s okay. Fortunately, Yoongi hyung was there to break me out of the hospital.” He turned to the older, who was sitting on the adjacent couch, sipping from his red wine glass.
“You broke him out of a hospital?” Your eyes widened. Yoongi let out a long sigh, placing his glass on the table.
“Since she couldn’t figure out the reason why Jimin was always sick, Mrs Park thought the only way to provide Jimin the care he needed was to lock him in a hospital.” He explained. Jimin cleared his throat.
“I first met Yoongi hyung at a martial arts convention. Since I used to train in kendo, omma let me go but I couldn’t participate in the demonstration. When he found out that omma checked me into the hospital, he got me out and brought me to join the family. Even when I was sick, Yoongi hyung and Namjoon hyung took care of me.” Jimin gave a small smile.
“I mean, since we’re telling our family stories, my mother abandoned me when I was younger, at an amusement park. I joined an orphanage after.” Hoseok said.
“Yoongi hyung’s father adopted me to be hyung’s playmate but that was it. We could only see each other during playtime. Other than that, I stayed in the small hut in the backyard.” Hoseok continued.
“It was practically a tool shed with a mattress.” Yoongi said bitterly.
“Yoongi, so your father...”
“He was rich, powerful, as was Namjoon’s father. We had been friends for a long time since our fathers were friends. After our fathers died, we dissolved their associations and formed our own.” Yoongi explained.
“I see... I didn’t know both your fathers were also... in the same line of business.” You tried to speak.
“With the way my father treated Hoseok and my mother, we don’t bring him up. Same with Namjoon.” Yoongi said but there was a warning tone in his voice.
“I-Is it, my turn?” Jungkook lifted his head.
“You don’t have to if you don’t want to.” You comforted. Jungkook took a deep breath, shaking his head. If anything, he trusted you and wanted you to know his background.
“I was quite a small kid, so I was generally quite quiet in school. I had one older brother. Mum and dad worked a lot so it was mostly my brother and me. At first, hyung was the best brother I could ever ask for. He took care of me, protected me, everything.” Jungkook gulped.
“Then one day, he started treating me like I was invisible, at school and at home. That progressed to him hitting me and bullying me, hurting me.” He said sadly.
“Jungkook...” Jimin said sadly.
“Namjoon hyung was passing by an alley when my brother almost beat me to death. He brought me to the hospital to get treated. Since then, I’ve been living with him.” Jungkook finished.
“Did your parents come find you?” You asked.
“They never believed me when I told them hyung hurt me. He must have told them I ran away or something since he thinks he left me for dead.” 
“But you’re stronger now.” Taehyung patted Jungkook’s head. Considering Taehyung didn’t start his background story, the others assumed that he already told you about him.
“Dinner is served.” The butler informed, breaking the thick tension in the air from all the heavy conversations. 
“I’ll get the others.” You said, going to head upstairs. The first person you checked on was Jin, he was still fast asleep, which you let him be. Namjoon was standing in the hallways, outside of Jin’s bedroom.
“I heard what the boys told you.” He said. You nodded your head in acknowledgement.
“(y/n), I think you know that with such backgrounds, it’s not all black and white for them. On top of always falling ill, Jimin lived with a fear of being a burden, like how his own mother treated him. Yoongi hyung lives with the guilt of how his father treated Hoseok. He feels the need to make it up to him with his life.” Namjoon started.
“Hoseok is afraid of abandonment. Taehyung dealt with meltdowns, panic attacks, so much trauma. You’ve seen it, he’s still not over what happened to him.”
“And Jungkook, I can’t tell you the number of times I had to stop him from taking his own life. He was afraid of being hurt by the one he loved, just like before.” Namjoon sighed.
“I know, Namjoon. It must have been a lot for you and Yoongi to face, along with your own fears. But look at who you saved. Where would they all be now if you and Yoongi didn’t help them?” You placed a hand on his shoulder.
“Everyone comes with their own battle scars. But that’s what makes us human and survivors, right?” You smiled.
“You always know what to say, doc.” Namjoon chuckled.
“Of course. I’m the best, am I not?” You nudged him, making him laugh even more. With that, the two of you headed downstairs to the dining room, where the others were seated around the table. Namjoon sat at the head of the table while you sat between Jungkook and Yoongi.
“Let’s eat.” Namjoon waved for the wait staff to bring in the trays of food and pour the drinks. Even if the dinner was quieter than usual, it wasn’t suffocating. You’ve reached a new level of understanding with the boys. 
“What shall we do tomorrow?” Jimin asked. 
“I wanna go look around the city. If possible. Maybe buy some things for myself.” You shrugged.
“Yes! Shopping! We’ll come too!” Taehyung and Jungkook cheered. You smiled, somehow knowing that it was going to be chaotic with the boys. Hoseok clapped his hands in excitement. 
“What if I wanna go on my own?” You raised an eyebrow. 
“No way! It’s not safe for you to be on your own.” Jungkook shook his head, putting his arms in a cross. 
“Are you saying I am not capable to defending myself?” You asked him with a smirk.
“Ooh, you’ve done it now, Kook.” 
“Yeah, even I don’t go there.” Yoongi decided to join in on the fun of teasing the maknae. Jungkook’s eyes widened when he realised what he did, immediately facing you and rubbing his hands together in an apologetic matter.
“I’m sorry! You are very much capable of defending yourself! Even better than me or anyone else because you’re a strong, independent woman! I would never doubt your strength! Please don’t kill me!” He rambled on. You threw your head back in laughter, reaching over to pat his head. Even the others just looked on in amusement. 
“Alright, let’s stop teasing, Koo.” You said. 
After dinner, everyone was gathered back in the living room, watching some show that was playing on the television. 
“The night is young! We should party!” Hoseok declared. 
"This is not going to end well.” Yoongi clicked his tongue with a shake of his head. It was obvious he had to deal with his drunk brothers multiple times before. 
“I brought drinks and snacks!” Jungkook brought two big trays out, one with different alcoholic drinks and the other filled with snacks, courtesy of Jin’s stash. You took a bottle of beer. Hoseok and Namjoon did the same, clinking bottles with you. Jungkook grabbed some soju.
“Hyung? You want one?” Jungkook offered a filled shot glass to Taehyung. Taehyung, who doesn’t usually drink, shrugged and accepted it. Yoongi stuck to his whiskey like always.
“Honestly didn’t think the drinking was gonna start on our first night here. But I’m not one to complain.” You shrugged. 
“We’re on vacation. It’s always drinking time.” Hoseok said. 
“I agree!” Jungkook grinned. You snorted in response. Jimin decided to have soju with the other two, taking an empty shot glass. Jungkook happily filled it up for him. 
“Hey...” Jin stood at the stairwell. 
“Hey, Jin. How are you feeling?” You asked as you stood up to head to him. Jin gave a small smile and a thumbs up. 
“Are those my snacks?!” His eyes widened as he marched over. 
“Shot?” Jungkook offered as a consolation. Jin glared at the maknae but took the tiny glass, glancing over at you. You shrugged, nodding your head in approval. Hoseok and Taehyung shifted to give Jin space to sit down. Everyone with their drinks, cheered to your first night on vacation, taking a swig. You leaned against Jimin’s side. 
“Do you want dinner, Jin?” 
“Nah, I’m fine with the snacks and drinks.” He waved you off. 
“Alright but if you feel dizzy again, stop and rest. And tomorrow, please remember to hydrate yourself when out.” You lectured. The boys all groaned, even if you were only directing your words at Jin. 
“Now you’re nagging.” Taehyung boxed his ears, whining. You rolled your eyes, reaching to smack him. 
That night, when all the boys retreated to their rooms, passed out drunk, you were in your room spending some alone time. There was a knock on your door and you stood up from your bed, shuffling over to see who it was. 
“Hobi?” You were shocked. 
“C-Can I come in?” He rubbed the back of his neck. You nodded your head, stepping aside for him to enter. 
“Can’t sleep?” You asked softly. 
“Just a lot on my mind.” He admitted with a soft sigh. You sat on your bed, legs dangling off the side. You patted the space beside you and Hoseok gladly accepted, sitting beside you as the moon shined in. 
“Bringing up the past isn’t easy. It opens a lot of scars you thought were healed, memories that you thought was locked away, feelings that you thoughts were gone. It’s okay, Hobi.” You whispered with a soft smile, wrapping an arm around him. Hoseok placed his head on your shoulder. 
“It’s okay.” You comforted. 
“She left me there, all alone. For strangers to take me. And I probably will never know the reason why until the day I die.” He said aimlessly.
“I’m sorry you had to go through that, Hobi.” You squeezed his hand. 
“Yoongi hyung still feels so guilty for what his father did when he adopted me. But I always think that even if he did treat me badly, I still got to leave the orphanage and meet Yoongi hyung.” 
“And then you met the rest of the boys. Look how inseparable you all are now.” You stroked his head. 
“I also got to meet you.” Hoseok added. 
“I’m just there to clean your cuts and take care of you when you’re sick.” You laughed. 
“That’s not true. You mean a lot to me and everyone else, more than you’d think, (y/n).” Now, it was Hoseok holding your hands, looking into your eyes, his full of honesty and sincerity. 
-
You woke up the next morning, rubbing your temples, feeling the slight effect of the alcohol from the night before. Hoseok was still passed out beside you, sleeping soundly. You got out of bed quietly, washing up before heading downstairs. The house was quiet, signalling that maybe no one else was awake, still sleeping the alcohol off. 
“You’re up?” You nearly jumped when Yoongi appeared, drinking a cup of iced coffee, his hair slightly damp and messy from his shower. 
“Yeah. I need a hangover cure and a coffee.” You went to the kitchen. The maid brought you a cup of water and the small bottle of hangover cure. You downed the bitter liquid following that with water.
“Here.” Yoongi fixed you an iced coffee of your own. 
“Thank you.” You sipped it.
“Hoseok... he’s with you?” Yoongi cleared his throat as he asked. You nodded your head with a hum. 
“Yeah. He came over to talk then we just fell asleep after.” You explained. Yoongi gave a nod, moving to sit out on the deck. You trailed behind him quietly, taking the seat across him. All you heard were the crashing of the waves and the strong wind rustling the trees. 
“I’m part of the reason he’s like that.” Yoongi spoke. 
“Why do you burden yourself with that?” You asked back. Yoongi blinked, seemingly surprised by your words. 
“You know it’s not true, you know that Hobi doesn’t think that, and yet you force yourself to live with the guilt. You know that you’re not like your father, whatever he did to Hobi was out of your control.” You said. 
“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” Yoongi said with gritted teeth. 
“Exactly, I don’t. But what I see is you feeling sorry for yourself and Hobi being worried about showing his emotions because he doesn’t want you to start feeling guilty again.” 
“He said that?” 
“Not exactly. It’s pretty obvious to a bystander.” You shrugged. 
“Yoongi, I have better things to do than to stand here and taunt you. The only people there were you and Hobi. Will anyone ever understand what each of you went through? I don’t know. You and I both know that Hobi holds whatever happened close to him. But he sees the light, even in a dark situation. If he can do that, I don’t see why you can’t.” You said. 
“I know.” Was all he could reply. 
“I’m going to check on Jin, okay?” You stood up. But you were yanked back by your wrist. Yoongi wrapped his arms around your waist, pressing his face into your middle. 
“I hate that you’re right.” He mumbled. You let out a soft hum, patting the top of his fluffy hair. When Yoongi released you, you looked down at him. 
“You saved so many of them, Yoongs. Give yourself more credit. They all look up to you for a reason.” You laughed. 
“Go check on Jin hyung.” He said, patting your hip. 
“Right on it, sir.” You saluted. That made Yoongi break out into a small smile as he watched you leave. You hummed a random tune as you headed upstairs to see how Jin was doing today. 
“Doc? You’re here.” He slowly opened his eyes, squinting to focus his vision on you. He gave you a sleepy smile. You smiled softly as you nodded, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear as you placed your hand on his forehead. He wasn’t warm to the touch. 
“How are you feeling?” You whispered. 
“Okay. Sleepy... Hungover.” He chuckled, a little embarrassed. 
“I’d bet. You can come down later to get some hangover cure. Luckily I told the butler to stock the house when we arrived yesterday.” You patted his shoulder, making him laugh. 
“(y/n)!” When you exited Jin’s room, you saw a shirtless Jungkook barreling down the hallway, headed straight for you. You jumped back but he caught you.
“Good morning, Koo.” You said in amusement as he hugged you. He mumbled something in his sleepy stupor. 
“What are you saying? I can’t understand you.” 
“I went to your room to look for you but you weren’t there. I thought Hobi hyung was you but it wasn’t. Why is Hobi hyung in your bed? Where were you? Ugh... I have a headache and I’m hungry.” He rambled. 
“Alright, alright. Slow down. I went to get some coffee to help my hangover and was with Yoongi on the deck. Then I went to check on Jin. Hobi just stayed the night after we talked. I have alka seltzer to help your hangover and I think the chefs are cooking hangover soup for all of us. Would you also please put on a shirt?” You answered all his questions, ending with one of yours. 
“I’m sleepy.” 
“I thought you were hungry?”
“I don’t know! My head hurts.” He whined. You sighed, patting his back as you led him back to his room. 
“You stay here. I’ll bring you a hangover cure then you can see how you feel after that.” You instructed. He nodded his head like an obedient child. You went downstairs to get a small bottle and a glass of water.
“Thank you.” He received the two, drinking one after another, cringing slightly at the bitterness. 
“It should help your headache and funny stomach. I’ll go check on the others to see if they need help.” You told him, tucking him back into bed under the blanket. 
“Will you come back?” He held your hand. 
~~
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ddarker-dreams · 3 years
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New Days. Yan Machi x Reader
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Warnings: Yandere themes and unhealthy relationships. Note: this is based off the fantastic mafia AU from @conflatemochi​ !! please consider checking out her content for it if you are 18+, i love the dynamics a lot.
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Routines are something you can work with.
Technically, you could just laze around all day, now that you no longer have to worry about rent or looming bills. Which is what you found yourself doing when you were first brought here against your will. That is, until the lack of having something meaningful to do started to wear down on your mind. It took months of carefully timed begging, promises, and gaining her trust; but you finally managed to convince Machi to let you cook.
She only relented once you agreed to cook in a public area, where bodyguards could interfere should you get any ideas. Not that you had any intentions of doing that after all the work it took to gain this privilege in the first place. Tensions run unbearably high when another member’s darling steps out of line, causing a ripple effect that intrudes on your life even if you weren’t involved. It’s the least you could do not to infringe on the other darling’s already miserable lives by lashing out.
“Well? What do you think?” You tentatively ask, clasping your hands together and holding your breath expectantly. This would be the first dinner you’ve made in many months. What you used to consider a troublesome chore in your normal life felt amazing to do after being taken care of for so long. You felt like you were slowly gaining a piece of your independence back, farfetched as the thought may be.
Machi sets the fork back onto her plate. The dish you made was a simple one, you wanted to keep things easy until you got used to cooking again. Pasta with a marinara sauce you’d been taught growing up, seasoned with fresh herbs and sauteed vegetables, all items you had requested in advance for this special night. If it weren’t for how dire the situation you were in was, you might have laughed at the sight of burly men in tuxedos and sunglasses approaching you with grocery bags.
“Hm. Not bad,” she finally speaks up, sending waves of relief over your frazzled person. It’s not so much that you want her approval — you just don’t want this opportunity to somehow get stolen from you — a fear that was in the back of your mind every time you taste-tested the sauce and made adjustments. A touch irrational, yes, but how could you not grow a little paranoid considering your unorthodox lifestyle?
You sway back and forth in place, your heart practically soaring. “So you like it?”
“What’d you expect?” Machi takes another bite, her standard rough attitude not enough to dampen your high spirits. It had been nerve-wracking to cook with bodyguards who had gun holsters visible on their person hovering just a few feet away. In the end, it looks like you were worried about nothing. This has been a major success in your books.
“I’m just a bit out of practice,” you freeze after the words tumble out and she raises an eyebrow. Rushing to defend yourself, you quickly add, “And you’ve never told me the food you like.”
“You’ve never asked.”
Ah, well, she’s got a point there. When you’re kidnapped, the last thing on your mind to ask is what kind of cuisine your captor favors. Machi’s cool demeanor is a double-edged sword. In situations like this, where the other members would get riled up over their darling mentioning their past life, it wasn’t unusual for them to blow up. She doesn’t take offense over made-up transgressions and you’re grateful for that much. Unfortunately, that also makes it more difficult for you to gauge her mood, given her almost constant poker face.
She finishes the meal you made in silence, something there’s a lot of between you two; though you’ve grown accustomed to it. You reach out to take her now empty plate, but she sends you a stare. Before you can ask what’s wrong, she stands, walking over to the sink to rinse it off herself. Playing with your fingers, you follow after her, feeling akin to a kicked puppy. Machi has to say something more, right? This is a big deal for you both, isn’t it?
Machi turns the faucet off and sets the plate down to dry.
“Here,” she reaches into her coat pocket and pulls out a pen and paper. “Write down what you need for tomorrow’s meal.”
You gratefully accept the offer, gushing out your gratitude for her benevolence.
What would your past self think of you now? Would they judge you for how you practically trip over yourself to keep Machi content and happy? Whatever the case, you can hardly bring yourself to care anymore, you’re just trying to keep yourself sane.
If this is what it takes, then so be it.
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lovesanmotion · 3 years
Text
Light - Jeong Yunho
summary: cool uncle by day but mafia boss at night, jeong yunho is ready for anything; except for falling in love.
tags: @couchpotatoaniki (yes i am tagging you bcs you blossomed this idea to me hihi)
A deep sigh left Yunho's lips, lighting up his cigarette and sticking it between his lips before releasing pearly white smoke. His once neat suit was now covered in sweat, dust and a trickle of blood from earlier events, singlehandedly killing a mafia group from the neighboring city. He lifted his wrist watch and checked the time - 10:01pm. Sandwiched between his middle and index finger, Yunho raises his cigearette stick onto his lips and puffed out a smoke.
His once cool composure broke when around the corner, the slim but curvy figure of his neighbor - y/n y/l/n came into view. She had her head hung low, shoulders drooping down and walking gloomily home. But Yunho stared at her. Around y/n, he felt like a high school boy who has a crush on her. He didn't also missed the fact that it was too late for y/n to go home. Work hours ends at 5-6pm, but 10? Yunho wondered if you took an overtime.
As y/n passed him by, he couldn't help but smile to himself. Feeling his face heating up. Getting up from the bench, he dropped his stick and stepped on it before following you home. With his hands tucked inside his pockets, Yunho wondered why you ever chose to live in a dangerous city like this. Was it because the rent's cheaper? Or to live close to your office?
He stopped his tracks and hid behind a pole, watching you get inside your home building safely. Watching you get home safely is what Yunho's been doing ever since you moved into the area and with a smile on his face, Yunho walks back home.
As the sun sets into the blue sky, Yunho packs up a lot of candies in his pocket before leaving his home and strolling to the neighborhood park. Clad in a bright red and white striped shirt and pants a bright smile on his face, Yunho would never be mistaken as someone who killed a group of guys last night. The cool breeze swept past him, causing his bangs to fly away.
As he found the children playing merrily and happily in the park, his heart swelled with an overwhelming feeling. How he wished these children would grow up into kind and humble adults. When the children saw him coming up to them, a chorus of "uncle Yunho!" greeted him, followed by all of them running up to him for a hug, some even hugging his legs.
Sitting down on the wooden bench, he gave each child a piece of candy and chocolate. Their little smiles upon tasting the fruity and sweet treats brought a smile on his lips too. However, Yunho mentally did a head count on the children.
1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9. One was missing, and the one missing happened to be his favorite. He was about to open his mouth and ask them where y/s/n when a small but cheerful "uncle Yunho!" greeted him from behind. Turning around, his eye's widened.
His neighborhood crush, holding an ice cream cone with one hand and the other holding hands with his favorite child from the playground.
"Mommy this is uncle Yunho! He's the one who always watches us and gives us candy when we play here!" A deep shade of red plastered on Yunho's cheeks. Slowly he turned away and sunk a bit lower on his seat, feeling himself getting shy. But he was a little surprised to know that y/n has a son.
Yunho watched as y/s/n joined the other kids in the slide and on his left side became occupied by you.
"Doesn't it get a little sad when you watch them slowly grow up? One day they are only crying for attention and the next thing you know you walk with them to preschool." Y/N spoke, taking a lick on the vanilla cone.
"Do you have kids at home?" Yunho shook his head. But he would very much like to have one with y/n.
"I'm y/n by the way!" He looked at the hand extended out for him to shake before looking at your smile. Yunho's heart beated loudly inside his chest, not missing the sight of the ice cream on the corner of your lip. He slowly leaned in and raised his hand, wiping the cream away with his thumb.
"Nice to meet you, y/n. I'm Yunho." He smiled at you, seeing that pink tint across your cheeks. Yunho thanked the gods that this might be the chance for him to properly talk to y/n. He turned to his side and striked up a conversation with you, slightly getting distracted with the way how you lick your ice cream.
"Uh..hello? Earth to Yunho?" Yunho snapped out of his trance and shook his head, batting his eyelashes. Yunho stared at you. "What was that again?"
"I was asking you earlier if you wanted to have lunch with me and y/s/n. Think of it as a thank you for watching over my son." Turning his head, he saw the children leave one by one until it was your son left sitting in the swing.
"I-I would love to!" He blurted out, maybe a little too loud. Yunho suddenly backed away, suddenly feeling shy but he only found y/n chuckling at him.
"That was cute. Anyways, let's me show you where I live." As Y/N got up, so did he. He took the pleasure of carrying y/s/n in his arms as he followed you to your place, he had to pretend he didn't know where you lived. How was he going to explain that he has been following you for months already?
"Welcome to our place!" Spoke Y/N in a cheerful tone. The place didn't look half bad. As he sets y/s/n down and removes his shoes by the doorway, he took in the appearance of your place. It isn't big nor small, perfect for two people living, light wooden floors, cream colored walls, yellow and green cupboards and a mini bookshelf thats occupied by books about numbers, letters, alphabets and story books.
"This is a nice place you've got" Yunho says, sitting down on the couch only to be sunk lower as he didn't noticed how the couch was small.
"I guess I was lucky to find this one. More greenery in the province than just seeing buildings in the city." Y/N spoke, Yunho watched her enter the kitchen. He got up and excitedly followed her like a high school boy following his crush around school.
"What are you going to make there?" He asks as he stood behind Y/N making her jump a little. Yunho didn't realized how close he has gotten to her, but he felt like his heart would burst at how small she is close to him.
"Does pasta sound nice?" Y/N tilted her head to the side. If only his mornings were spent this close to y/n, Yunho would be in heaven already.
As Yunho was about to say something, in came little y/s/n holding his school bag.
"Mommy, can you help me with my homework?"
Two heads snapped to look at y/s/n who stood by the doorway of the kitchen.
"Your mom would love to!" Yunho smiled at y/s/n, held y/n by her shoulders and pushed her out of the kitchen despite her many protests against it. Yunho opened the fridge to check what ingredients were available, he grabbed whatever he needed and placed them on the counter and started cooking.
It was only like last night, he was using the very same knife to slice throats and now he's slicing meat with the same knife. But Yunho was only occupied by the merry thought of cooking for his crush.
After half an hour passed, Yunho beautifully plated three pasta bowls on the table. He gave himself a pat in the back for doing an excellent job and was about to call y/n and y/s/n to eat when he heard some talking.
"Mommy do you like uncle Yunho?" A small voice, y/s/n, as Yunho thought. His heart raced upon hearing this kind of conversation. There was a moment of silence, Yunho was fidgeting to know your answer.
"Mommy can uncle Yunho be my dad?" Yunho clutched his chest dramatically, pretending to wipe a tear from his eye. But there it was again, that silence.
"Let's see, y/s/n. Want to see uncle Yunho if he's done?"
Yunho started to get up from his spot but hit his knee in the process, an inaudible sound came out of his mouth and suddenly the door swung open. Y/N and Y/S/N stared at him with a blank yet confused looks on their faces.
"Uh..lunch is ready!" Yunho smiled and instantly stood up from the ground. As he lead them to the kitchen, he was proud to see their expressions and sat down, paying attention to y/n's reaction before eating.
"So what do you do, Yunho?" Y/N asked while twirling pasta with her fork.
Yunho racked up his brain to think of what should he say. But he choked up in between.
"I'm unemployed at the moment" He says. There was no way he is ever going to tell that he kills people, raids warehouses and factories and regulates drug deals within in and out of the country. "What about you? What do you do for a living?" Yunho gulped the food down his throat before facing you.
"I, uh...I just work at, at a very boring corporate office. They don't pay much."
"Is that why you do overtime and get home late at night?"
"What?"
"What?"
Yunho stared at y/n wide eyed. That was wrong of him suddenly mentioning it to you. He shook his head and carried on the conversation by changing the topic.
For the whole afternoon, Yunho stayed with Y/N and Y/S/N, watching kids movies while having a snack. Y/S/N falling asleep in the middle of the movie. Yunho took the pleasure of letting y/s/n sleep on his chest, he could get used to being a househusband. With the sun setting, Yunho thought it was best for him to go home. But was stopped by y/n to join them for dinner. On the outside, Yunho thanked you. But on the inside, Yunho was giggling.
He cooked once more in the kitchen, clogging out y/n's protests. Dinner became a happy meal as all three of them became full. While y/n was cleaning up in the kitchen, Yunho asked permission if he could take y/s/n out for a walk, promising he'd be home by 8pm.
Yunho took y/s/n to the convenient store, handing him a whole bar of chocolate in his small hands. But the little boy stared at him.
"But mommy says I can't have too much sweets" the small boy pouted.
"But your mom isn't here right? This'll be our little secret. You and me." Yunho grinned at the small boy who flashed a toothy smile in front of him.
"Uncle Yunho do you like my mommy?"
"Very much." Yunho suddenly stopped as he looked back at the child with him, now grinning at him.
"Okay, that's another secret between us. Don't tell your mommy about that too okay?" The small boy nodded his head quickly, Yunho held his hand and walked back home with him. Unaware of two eyes following them as they head back.
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(gif is not mine! credits to the rightful owner!)
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c-c-cherry · 4 years
Text
Bucci Gang Headcanons!!!
I’m not really one to usually post this kind of stuff, but these are some lil headcanons my pal @jjadegreen and I have come up with while stuck in the same house during the quarantine!! 
These literally range from *probably would happen* to *fucking crack* so y’all have been warned...
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Giorno is one of those people that has a secret sweet-tooth. Like. An insane one where if he actually decides to indulge in it he cannot fucking stop. 
When he does go overboard, it’s usually because Bruno got his favourite ice cream flavour from the store and it’s always at some ungodly hour of the night.
He usually blames it on Mista somehow. Accidentally ate the entire tub of ice cream at 3am? No biggie. Just put the spoon on Mista’s bedside table while he’s asleep! 
Everyone blames Mista for it EVERY TIME and now he’s not allowed to eat any ice cream when they buy it. Mista thinks it’s the Sex Pistols because he swears he doesn’t remember doing it. 
Giorno just sits there like *sweats* “yeah uh no it had to be Mista, right? There’s definitely no one else it could be, right? Right??”
One time Abbacchio caught him in the act at like 4am and they have yet to bring it up.
He would spill Giorno’s big secret, but he really likes to see Mista suffer.
Narancia wears skirts sometimes and it’s not a big deal. He vibes, they all just vibe. No toxic masculinity here. 
Narancia is genuinely afraid of those “IF YOU DO NOT SEND TO 10 PEOPLE THIS WILL APPEAR AT THE END OF YOUR BED AT 3AM” emails.
One time he couldn’t do it because Bruno took his phone away and he sat in bed all night fucking trembling in fear of what chain mail monster would eat his face off this time.
Abbacchio hates geese. No one knows why. Not even Bruno.
Narancia’s real stand name IS Aerosmith, but he’s dead set on calling it Lil’ Bomber because “that’s his rapper name.”
Mista is lactose intolerant but he doesn’t know because he just thinks it’s normal to feel excruciating pain when you eat ice cream. 
“Like how pineapples hurt your mouth when you eat them.” -Mista probably
Bruno literally had to take him to the hospital one night because he inhaled too much ice cream and would not stop throwing up and Mista was like “wait this doesn’t happen to you??”
Trish hates butterflies because *fun fact!* butterflies often feed on not only nectar and fruit, but DECAYING CORPSES of animals! 
When she was a kid, she was walking in some alleyway and ran into a dead animal covered in butterflies. One landed on her arm and she fucking screamed. She will never look at them the same ever again...
Giorno loves to make things into butterflies when they all spend time together, and Trish literally has to suppress a shudder every time one goes near her.
Fugo is one of those people that is basically not afraid of anything, but when a fucking bee comes near him he will LOSE IT. He’s one of those people that will have to get up and run away from a bee when it flies near him.
If you tell him that it will leave him alone if he stops moving, he will punch you.
Giorno likes to make shit into bees sometimes just to fuck with him
Bruno does not like dogs. It probably stems from some childhood experience that went sour, but he does not care. He will be stone-faced during any mission or situation, but if a dog tries to jump up and greet him he will freak. The fuck. Out.
One time Narancia and Mista brought home a dog from the streets and mama Bruno was like “NOPE” and zipped himself out of existence.
Abbacchio found him locked in the closet under the stairs when he got home and made them get rid of it.
Leone was more of a cat person anyway.
Abbacchio eats raw pasta.
Fugo plays chess with himself. When Giorno joins the team he’s like “ugh finally an intellectual” but Giorno has literally never seen a fucking chess board in his life and is too scared to tell Fugo so he just keeps making up excuses as to why he doesn’t “have time” to play chess with him today.
Mista doesn’t shower but he has a BOMB-ass face-care routine. Even Trish is jealous. His face? Baby soft? Ten out of ten. The rest of him? Axe body spray out of ten.
Narancia went through a goth phase pre-canon. Abbacchio was not happy because Bruno kept referring to him as “little Abba” but he let Narancia use his good lipstick anyway.
Mista found his special hat in a street gutter on a rainy day and it matched his sweater so he decided to just keep it. Abbacchio does Trish’s makeup. They go to Sephora together. I don’t make the rules.
Giorno never really told anyone (besides Bruno) that he got his stand naturally so they all assume he got it from Polpo’s lighter and when he mentioned something off-hand about “when I was a kid Gold and I…” everyone’s just like “bitch hold up-”
Abbacchio wears coloured contacts and his ass literally cannot see without them. 
Yes they are expensive as fuck. He blows half his pay-check on them every month. 
One time he lost them right before a mission so he had to pull out his heavy prescription glasses from like 8th grade. They literally looked like this.
I think you can imagine the outcome
Growing up, Giorno only listened to three songs. 
The only reason he had access to these songs was because he found a really old Walkman on the side of the road when he was wandering around once. The tape only had three songs on it; Dancing Queen, It's Raining Men, and some song by Mozart. These were the three songs of Giorno’s childhood. 
He still has it and likes to listen to the tape when he gets sad
Narancia doesn’t know what a period is. Neither does Mista. 
Bruno forces everyone into the living room after overhearing this and makes them all watch one of those really awkward sex-ed videos from the 90s (you know the ones)
It was one of the worst days of their lives
They still have the tape and Narancia sometimes slips it in the VHS player when they all least expect it just to fuck with everyone
Bruno once held a capo meeting at their house (biggest mistake of his life) and all you could heard blasting through the walls of the other room was “YoUr bOdy MiGht Be gOiNg tHrOuGh sOmE cHaNgEs, fOr eXaMpLe yOuR P-”
On that note, Giorno was definitely that one kid who took notes during Sex-Ed
Abbacchio listens to Avril Lavigne
Giorno shaves his arms. It kind of started by accident but now he literally cannot stop or else his arms will look completely fucked up
Bruno has sensitive teeth. He can’t drink water that’s too cold cause it hurts his mouth. Abbacchio makes him tea :)
Fugo plays piano to help him with his anger. He would say that he plays saxophone too, but it’s more like violently screeching into the mouthpiece instead of actually playing it.
Narancia thinks that lesbian is a nationality
Even though Giorno lived in Japan for just a couple years, he’s still pretty fluent in the language because his mother would only speak Japanese to him growing up
The gang has no idea that Giorno is Japanese and when a foreigner is struggling Giorno just swoops in with perfect Japanese and they’re all just really confused.
Giorno doesn’t cry during movies or TV shows, but he’s one of those people who fucking BAWLS during video game credits
Mista and Narancia beat Ocarina of Time together and Giorno was watching from the sidelines and AS SOON as the credits started rolling there were tears.
When KK Slider starts to sing in Animal Crossing New Horizons and your character is brought into a music void and the credits start rolling he tears up just a little bit
Mista is squeamish around dead bugs. Not live ones. Dead ones and solely dead ones
Mista and Trish go thrifting. Mista goes to check the pockets of clothes for spare cash (cause he’s a broke bitch) and Trish goes to buy clothes
Everyone thinks that Mista doesn’t change his clothes but he actually just buys like 7 of the same outfit
Mista sneezes like a white sports dad. You know the sneeze.
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Bonus Bruabba shit because Jade and I always go fucking HARD when talking about our local mafia dads:
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Bruno ties up the little strings on Abbacchio’s tiddy shirt every morning.
They got promise rings. Leone’s trying to find a nice time to actually propose but the gang keeps fucking it up every time they try to go on a nice date together
Bruno and Leone watch thunderstorms together
-The rest of the bucci gang stay inside and play monopoly or something when’s its stormy but these two bring out blankets and sit on the front porch and just be all soft and shit watching the lightning light up the sky and listening to the rain on the roof above them.
Bucciarati and Abbacchio have been mistaken as the following: 
Bruno as a woman and Abbacchio as a man. Abbacchio as a woman and Bruno as a man. Two lesbians. But never an actual gay couple.
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Yeah so I have no idea what that was. These were taken from a google doc we have together that’s just all these jumbled, crack-filled headcanons just for fun. I’m sure you can sense the pure chaos in this. 
Go give my dude @jjadegreen a hello, sis made most of these!
uhhh let us know if you want any more from any other parts. Cause y’all know we probably got some. <3
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lunariasilver · 4 years
Text
The Virtuoso - 4. Meteor City IV
Masterlist
Previous / Next
A/N I'm sorry guys, the ending of this chapter kicked my fucking ass. I've been sitting on it being almost done forever.
After the troupe left, I started composing a song for them. I wasn't sure why. It wasn't like I was going to be able to play it for them but...it provided me with some peace. It reminded me of them. It wasn't just them that playing my violin reminded me of, though.
Every time I looked at it I remembered my grandfather. My mother, my father...my brothers. It made me want to tear it apart.
I wouldn't, though. My father always told me I was a sentimental fool, and he was right.
The music it made was nice, at least.
Inspiration had struck me in the middle of the street and I was working on a random stanza. Eventually I was going to have to put all of these parts together, but for now I just kept coming up with more pieces. I couldn't help but wonder if they would ever fit together.
I was interrupted by a familiar face. I couldn't quite place it at first, though.
"Give me your violin!" She demanded, standing in a threatening manner.
I stared at her blankly.
"Now, or- or I'll kill you!" She continued.
Oh, that's right. Zara. The girl I made lead me into the part of the city that people actually lived in.
"Why?" I asked. I was still positioned to play as if her presence made no difference to me. It didn't really.
"I'm- I'm gonna sell it!" Zara yelled. The woman was practically shaking. How tedious.
I tilted my head to the side. "To who?"
"Um-"
"Nobody here would ever buy this. Nobody can play it." I paused. "Why do you want it?"
Zara faltered, lowering her fists and looking at the ground. "Y-your music is beautiful. I thought that...maybe I could make it."
It remained silent. She was still trembling. She probably thought I was going to kill her. I was considering it. She did threaten me, after all...
"Would you like me to teach you?" I offered, surprising even myself.
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After that, more and more people began approaching me asking for lessons. They started trading with me for them.
It was almost like I was an actual musician holding classes. After a while, people started trading violins to people. I assumed they bought them with whatever money they made working for the mafia.
I saw the mafia often. Well, their runners. It was strange how many jobs they were doing recently. They'd come to me a few times to ask me to handle a job for them. I obviously could never complete them, but I could at least point them in the direction of somebody who could. After the fourth time of me doing that, they started to come to me first. They even payed me. Jenny was no good to me, so I gave them a list of things that would work as payment.
I couldn't wait to discuss my new books with Chr-
Oh.
Right.
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I was in the middle of teaching a class when I felt a familiar presence. It had been two months since I had last felt it. I almost dropped my violin I whipped around so fast-
"Chrollo?"
"I hadn't even said hello yet." Chrollo said, seemingly amused by my quick response to his presence. "What's this?"
My class was unnerved, but seemed to trust me to protect them from the former resident. "I'm teaching them to play the violin."
"How domestic."
I pursed my lips, trying to hide how truly pleased I was to see him. "I have to do something while you're not here." I then turned to face my class. "An old friend of mine is visiting. Class is over for today. Your next lesson will be free. I apologize."
They grumbled a bit, but they knew better than to kick up a fuss. When they were gone I turned to face Chrollo.
He was still smiling. "I brought you some books and sheet music."
I wasn't quite sure what to say to him, and I think he could sense that.
"I also brought food."
And those were the magic words. "What food did you bring? Is it cake? Cookies? Pasta?" I asked, advancing on him quickly.
His smile seemed to grow warmer at this. "You'll have to find out."
I narrowed my eyes. "Let's eat now."
"So impatient."
"Come on!" I demanded, grabbing him by his free arm and dragging him with me. When we got to my "residence" I paused for a brief moment.
"I-" I started, staring at the ground for a moment.
"Yes?"
I shook my head before dragging him inside. "I'm gonna have to read the books before you leave. So we can discuss them."
I didn't think you'd come back.
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I was less sad when Chrollo left again. After all, this time I knew he'd be back. All of them would be back. They had no reason to, but they would. Just to visit me.
How strange.
The song that I had been composing with them in mind was so much easier now. I could hear how the puzzle fit together. It all started making sense to me. It had to be perfect, though. I couldn't count the amount of times that I had scrapped an entire section. Chrollo had given me a notebook that I was using to write it all down. I couldn't risk losing any of what I had already come up with. Maybe one day I would play it for them all. I knew Paku at least would like to hear it.
Time kept passing me by. Members of the troupe visited from time to time, usually by themselves. Sometimes they visited in pairs, but never all at once. That was fine with me.
Any time they got a new member somebody came to introduce them to me. Apparently Chrollo wanted there to be a total of thirteen members. I wasn't really sure why. (I mean, I had an idea, but he had never actually told me.) It kind of stung that I couldn't be a member, but I understood why. What use could I be to them if I couldn't leave the city?
Still, they clearly cared about me, and that was all I really needed.
Meteor City was starting to feel more like home. My thoughts didn't turn to Zoldyck Manor nearly as often as they used to. The people here were all fond of me. Or at the very least they knew better than to outwardly express their distaste of me.
I didn't "take care of people's problems" as often as I used to, since I was so busy with my classes, but I was still willing. Not to mention I had begun to serve as a liaison for the mafia. Honestly, aside from the complete and utter lack of modern amenities, Meteor City was quite comfortable.
I did miss having a chef, though. I still couldn't quite grasp the concept of cooking. Nobody had ever explained it to me. And it wasn't like I had an abundance of seasoning here.
....I missed good food so much.
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Apparently the Troupe had gotten pretty busy as of late, trying to establish themselves in the greater world. They didn't have the time to visit me like they used to. It was okay though, I knew they hadn't forgotten about me. They still sent me messages from time to time, so I at least knew that they were thinking of me.
I tried not to think about how much I wanted to join them in whatever it was they were up to. That line of thought was dangerous. It might make me do something reckless.
I was laying on my pathetic mattress staring at a scarf that Paku had gotten me. It wasn't the actual scarf, it was a copy that I had conjured up. It had been quite some time since she had visited me. I missed her. I really wanted to see her again.
I closed my eyes, sighing heavily. Suddenly, it felt like I was falling, which was impossible.
My eyes shot open and I was standing in an unfamiliar bedroom. It was opulently decorated.
"What the fuck?" I muttered, looking around before I spotted a familiar face.
"Paku?" I questioned. She didn't look at me. She was currently cooking.
"Paku!" I tried again. Still no answer. "Pukunoda!" I exclaimed. It seemed she finally heard me as she whipped around to face me. Her gun was already drawn. She lowered it upon recognizing me, a perplexed expression on her face.
"Ivela? How did you get here?" She asked.
I looked around. "I have no idea. I was just holding the scarf you gave me and thinking about seeing you and then I was here." I shrugged at her. I had no real explanation.
Paku paused before nodding. "Ah. It must be your specialist ability."
"I'm not a specialist." I stated, raising an eyebrow at her.
She furrowed her eyebrows at me. "But you are."
That is not what my parents told me. "I must have developed a specialist ability, I guess." I was a conjurer.
"...I suppose." She said, seemingly unconvinced. "You'll have to figure out its limitations yourself."
I nodded. "I wouldn't expect you to have any insight."
I stayed and talked with her for a long while, quickly discovering that it didn't seem to have any kind of time restraint. That was good to know.
I figured out that going back was done much the same way as getting here.
I spent a lot of time figuring out my ability, which I decided not to give a name to. It seemed to tie into my conjuration ability quite nicely. I figured I'd just call it a part of "Gift Box."
In my defense I named my ability when I was young.
I found that I had to have been given a gift from somebody in order to visit with them, and I had to have chosen to use that particular gift within my Gift Box ability.
All of my Gift Box restrictions applied. When I was visiting someone, they couldn't see or feel me until I said their name. Their first or last name would suffice, I discovered, but it couldn't be a nickname.
Only they could see or feel me when I was visiting them. And I couldn't attack them, just the same as they couldn't attack me. I hadn't quite tested the theory on how my ability differentiated between an attack and innocent touching. That required further experimentation.
It was nice, actually. I could still see everyone without ever having to leave.
I could even see Killua.
He thought I was an imaginary friend.
I even checked up on my parents and grandfather from time to time. They seemed to be doing well, but I wasn't expecting them to be suffering. I was always careful to never make them aware of my presence, however. They didn't need to know what I was capable of. My luck they'd forbid it.
The time between the visits from the troupe grew ever larger, but it didn't really matter since I could visit whenever I wanted! I saw them all the time! It wasn't quite the same as seeing them in person, though. Apparently I felt different to them. Every time I visited Uvo he would throw something at my head. It would always just sail harmlessly through me. It was usually a can of beer.
He always looked so disappointed that I hadn't caught it. I think he was upset because now he couldn't drink the beer. (Cause it was all shaken up.)
The last time he visited the city he brought a keg.
That was a good time.
I barely thought of returning to Zoldyck Manor anymore.
-
-
-
It was almost like no time at all had passed before it was the second anniversary of my arrival to Meteor City. It was strange. This place was supposed to be a punishment, but it felt like anything but.
Which, admittedly, didn't make me feel as good as it should.
It wasn't like I had been falsely accused. I deserved to be punished.
I shook those thoughts away. It was better not to focus on them. The present was so much more pleasant than the past.
I hadn't been expecting it, but...the entire troupe came to visit me. I couldn't quite figure out why. It seemed like a strange thing to do.
I appreciated it, though.
Everyone around me was talking and laughing. I didn't know what about. Try as I might, I couldn't pay attention. I was too busy wishing it could be like this all the time.
I was too busy wondering what it would be like to really be a part of the Phantom Troupe.
I was too caught up in the realization that sitting here with all of them felt right in a way being with my actually family had never.
"When is your birthday, Ivela?"
I blinked. Chrollo was looking at me expectantly. Actually, they all were. I assume they had been talking about birthdays before and I realized they had no idea when mine was.
I made a split second decision.
"Today, actually. July 8th." The day I came to Meteor City. I didn't know why, but the day I was born a Zoldyck didn't feel like the right answer anymore.
The troupe were immediately in an uproar.
"Why didn't you tell us?!"
That seemed to be a sentiment shared by them all.
"Sorry, sorry." I said sheepishly.
"It's just a good thing we had a gift for you anyway!" Uvo exclaimed.
I narrowed my eyes. "Gift?"
"Hey! You weren't supposed to tell her that yet!" Nobu yelled.
"Uvo!" Chrollo said harshly.
The others also admonished him.
"We were gonna give it to her anyway!" Uvo defended.
Paku sighed. "The plan was to give it to her when we left. But I suppose now we don't have a choice."
I was beginning to think they liked giving me gifts because they felt bad for me, being cooped up here. That didn't bother me as much as it should have, though. Maybe people should feel a little bad for me. I have to bathe in a dirty river.
"I'm waiting with bated breath." I said blankly.
"We're gonna wipe that look off your face." Machi vowed. "Close your eyes."
I did as requested. If it isn't food I'm gonna be pissed-
I almost snickered at my own joke.
A moment later, I was told to open my eyes. Chrollo was standing in front of me holding a violin. At first glance it was nothing special. I was confused. I already had a violin, I didn't need-
Wait.
My eyes widened as I carefully took the violin from him. It was a Strandivari Violin.
Back when the world was my oyster, (so long as I obeyed,) I had taken a particular interest in valuable violins, for obvious reasons. This one in particular was...
Insane.
I looked at Chrollo with my eyes wide, and turned my gaze to the other members. They were all staring at me.
This was literally the most valuable violin in the world. This violin was...perfection.
I couldn't believe they'd stolen this for me.
Whenever my family had given me gifts, they'd always been practical. Any gifts that weren't murder related weren't gifts at all. They were rewards.
A dagger. A bottle of poison. A blade hidden within a bracelet.
Nothing they ever gave me was to create. Every 'gift' I received from them was a tool meant to help me do whatever they wanted me to. Nothing was ever chosen just because I might like it.
In contrast, the troupe had always brought me things that made them think of me. They brought me books. They brought me food, sheet music, scarves, clothes. Things to make me more comfortable.
Things to make me happy.
Things to make me smile.
"Ivela?" I heard Chrollo ask.
I blinked, registering that my eyes had started to well up. I blinked rapidly, trying to clear my eyes.
"Do you like it?" He asked softly.
I stepped back and regarded the whole troupe, as opposed to just Chrollo.
They were all staring at me.
I stared back blankly, before I smiled warmly. "I love it."
The uproar was immediate.
"What a pretty smile!" (I still hate Shalnark.)
"Ivela can smile?!?!"
"I DIDN'T THINK SHE COULD!!"
"You guys haven't seen her smile?" That one was Chrollo.
"You have??!?!?!"
I just kept smiling at the chaos I had caused, waiting for it to settle down. If anything, my smile was only growing wider.
I adored these people.
I snickered as the chaos only grew. They were being completely ridiculous. It was just a smile.
I pursed my lips and turned away from the Troupe. They quieted down immediately as I positioned my new violin on my shoulder.
"So. Do you guys want to hear a song?"
I didn't wait for a response, instead choosing to force them to listen to me play the song I'd written for them.
8 years passed mostly uneventfully.
After that first birthday celebration, the trend of me seeing the troupe in person less and less continued, although they all came for my birthday every year. Or...they did. Before my father came. Before he killed a member on my birthday.
(To be fair, he was unaware that it was my birthday. But still. To hell with him.)
I liked the girl he killed. She was kind.
He and Chrollo fought. My father didn't stick around to finish the fight. Of course he didn't. Chrollo wasn't his target.
I couldn't do anything. I couldn't even let my father see me.
After that, it was decided that the Troupe having a regular day where they're all in one place was a bad idea, even if it was only once a year.
I still saw them, but those get-togethers that I had so cherished were long gone. I started to get a little scrappy with everyone that I could. I had to be the strongest Zoldyck. At least for now. My training regimen was intense.
I met many people over the years, although only two of them were particularly memorable. They all inevitably left or died any way. Aside from those two, the only people I bothered to remember were my violin students.
I remembered a girl that I trained. She grew to be quite strong. So strong that when a butler from the Zoldyck estate came looking for a new apprentice, I sent her off with them.
Cruel, perhaps, but it was what she wanted. Besides, the family never did much to the butlers. They wouldn't treat her the way they'd treated me. She'd be fine.
The other....well. Ging was...well. Um. Hm.
He wasn't someone I liked to think about.
Some of my violin students managed to get out of Meteor City and make something of themselves.
Or at least I hoped they had. I only really knew that they had left to go join an orchestra or something. I try not to think about them either.
No, I have to stay focused. I have to keep running towards my goal.
I'm going to get out of Meteor City.
A/N
Okay guys once again I am so sorry. That birthday scene was something I had a very specific plan in mind for, and executing that was a struggle. (I'm pretty happy with it.) Plus I'm doing the school thing again, so...that isn't helping with writing time. But I'm not going on another insane hiatus! I promise.
Anyway, here we are! Next chapter we start the real story. Only took 5 chapters to get there, counting the prologue. Hope you guys liked the Meteor City Arc! IT WAS A LOT
Also, Ivela's violin is based (obviously) off of Stradivarius Violins. Her's in particular would be this world's equivalent of the Messiah Stradivarius. That's right guys the Troupe went all out.
They said "If we're stealing Ivela a violin, it's gonna be a VIOLIN."
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Text
Empires on the Horizon IV
Jason is a CEO: Part IV
Here’s my masterlist for the next part and my other stuff 
Tumblr media
new beginnings
look fragile
like glass
but when grabbed
sparkle
like diamonds
-badpoetry
“Good morning Mr Grace,” Grover Underwood smiled from his usual spot behind the coffee machine.
“Morning, how are you?”
“Much happier for seeing you less like someone kicked your puppy,” He gave Jason a knowing look.
“How?”
“There are some things the brain cannot hide, matters of the heart are often one of them.”
He didn’t really have any reply to that, so he gave the man an awkward smile and shrugged.
“Your usual then?”
“Yes please, and an iced coffee for Hazel.”
“Ah where is the darling this morning?”
“She’s coming into the office later, something about needing to go home first? She must have stayed at a friend’s place.”
Grover raised a dark brow, “Mhmm and where is your driver this morning? I noticed you drove yourself in today.”
“Uh I think Frank took the day off,” He frowned trying to piece the conversation he’d had with his friend in his sleep-deprived brain.
“Oh interesting,” Grover’s chocolate brown eyes twinkled in amusement, but before Jason could question him a warm cup was being shoved into his hand and he was being ushered away to wait for the iced coffee.
Collapsing into a chair, he pushed his glasses up his nose and wrapped his scarf tighter around his neck. Winter was beautiful but gods it was cold. He glanced around the café taking in the familiar forest green walls and dark wood floors. There was no sun streaming through the windows today so the gold accents on the tables were dulled and dark, like hidden bronze. He traced his fingers around the edge of his cup, losing himself in the motion, in the feeling of heat on his cold fingers, in the small gusts of wind against his cheeks as the door opened and closed, in the noise of a bustling store, in the–
“Hello Jason,”
“Luke,” He took a deep breath, “Fuck off.”
“Aw don’t be like that,” He sniggered.
“Please Luke, I don’t have the energy for this right now,” Exhaustion was a thousand-ton weight on his bones.
“That’s your problem Jason you never wanted to take things head on. It was always let’s wait for this, let’s get their opinion first, let’s just give it a couple weeks. You could have had the world begging at your fingertips if you just went for what you wanted.”
“Are you done?”
Luke’s responding laugh was malicious, “You are so-“
“Leave.” His voice was stone.
His ex-boyfriend scoffed, “Pathetic.”
Jason watched as the face he had been so in love with sneered at him, the scar running down a pale cheek twisting into malice. His soul ached for what could have been, it burned for what now was. It always surprised him how drained he felt after every interaction with Luke- like crashing down from a potent high. Being with Luke was a high, was euphoria and hope and sin. What the fuck went wrong? 
His phone buzzed in his pocket.
“Talk to me,”
“Why do you insist on answering the phone like you’re some sort of mafia boss?” His sister grumbled.
“Hello to you too Thalia,”
“I just wanted to let you know that I’ve set you up on a date tonight. Six-thirty at Sun and Songs.”
He groaned, “No. I am not in the mood.”
“Jason Grace,” She started; he could feel a rant coming on, “You cannot stop living your life because you have a wanker of an ex-boyfriend. You have been in a slump since Luke and it is affecting you in ways you’re too scared to admit.”
“It is not affecting me,” He was tired of having this fight, “I literally dated Piper for like three months.”
“Mhm and were you happy? Did you put all you could into the relationship?” She didn’t wait for his response, “No, you may have been a little happier, but you weren’t you. So you will go on this date tonight and in five years when we’re planning your wedding you better be thanking me in your speech.”
“Gods Thals,” He snorted, “We haven’t even gone on the date yet and you’re already planning a wedding?”
“Wait does that mean you agree to it?” She squealed through the phone.
“Yes loser,” He held in a laugh, “I’ll go on the date. But if it doesn’t work out you drop all of this. No more setting me up, no more interfering.”
“Yes sir. Now, how work’s going?”
“Besides the fact that Project Hestia is on hold because of this stupid contract everything is good.”
“Isn’t your fancy lawyer lady sorting it out?” She muttered.
“Reyna is a great lawyer and you know it.”
“Yea but she’s also my ex-girlfriend so I get to be a little resentful.”
He snorted at that, “Of course, and how are you?”
“I’m good. The Conservatory is still standing so I can’t be doing too many things wrong.”
“Didn’t you guys get cheetah cubs this weekend?”
“Oh Jase!” His sister cried, “They are just the absolute cutest things. Did you know cheetahs are so shy that some conservationists and wild-life biologists recommend giving them emotional support puppies?”
“So what you guys got puppies and cubs?”
“We haven’t got the puppies yet; they’re only arriving this week.”
“Well send me pictures when they’re together, maybe I’ll have them framed and hung around the office as a morale booster.”
She laughed, the sound crackly through the speaker, “Will do little bro. Listen I have to go but call me tomorrow to tell me about the date.”
“Wait!” He yelled, ignoring the weird looks from the café patrons as he walked out, “What’s her name?”
“Zoe.”
***
Jason was nervous. That was the only explanation for his shaky hands and the zoo of creatures in his stomach. He had gotten to Suns and Songs fifteen minutes early with a lavender and daisy bouquet in hand. The restaurant his sister had reserved was nothing short of incredible. Dark maroon draped over each table, and opulent candelabras sat in the center, lit only if the table was occupied. Glass and crystal chandeliers swung slowly from the high wooden beams, catching on the light and making a kaleidoscope of the room. Even the way the air smelt was decadent here. Like wood smoke and perfume, some hint of chocolate, maybe. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but he wanted to bottle the scent and bathe himself in it. Trying not to be suspicious he took another deep breath in; it calmed his nerves if nothing else.
“Mr Grace?” someone put a soft hand on his shoulder, “Your guest,”
He thanked the waitress, getting up to greet his date and pull out her chair. He tried to muffle his gasp when he finally turned to her. She was stunning. Midnight skin contrasting elegantly with the pastel yellow dress she wore. Braids intertwined with glittering strands; it cast a pale silver halo around her head. Small hoop earrings glinted as she moved, and the bracelets at her wrist clinked gently when they shook hands.
“Hi, Jason Grace,” He smiled.
“Zoe Nightshade.” She flashed beautiful white teeth.
He handed her the flowers, “You look unbelievable.” He truly was in awe of her.
“Thank you,” Her smile was soft, but her voice was crisp and direct, “And these are gorgeous.”
“Would you like to order drinks?”
They scanned the menu quickly; Zoe ordered a cocktail he hadn’t heard of and he ordered the first thing he saw that didn’t have tequila in it.
“So,” He asked, and then cringed at himself internally. Starting any conversation with so was bound to make it awkward.
He cleared his throat, “How do you know Thalia?”
“We work together at the Conservatory. I moved here a couple months ago because I got transferred from the wildlife center in Germany.”
Jason didn’t know what but something about her voice made his insides melt. She said everything so undiplomatically– like if it wasn’t a fact it wasn’t worth uttering.
“Oh that’s cool. What do you do?”
“I’m a veterinarian. You?”
“Well I was a structural engineer but somehow over the years I got roped into being a town and regional planner.”
She frowned, tilting her head assessingly, “You did not finish your engineering degree?”
“Oh no I finished and got my masters in structural but then I started my company and I realised I needed other qualifications to run it the way I wanted to so I had to go back and get a degree in urban and regional planning. By the end I felt like I had been studying since the dawn of time.”
She laughed at that, and a look of surprise crossed her face, as if it was as unexpected to her as it was to him. “I know how you feel. I love animals and I’m passionate about my work but when I was done studying, I vowed never to go back. Studying for seven years after school and then trying to do it all over again feels like a one-way ticket to the end of the road.”
He mirrored her smile, “How did you get into veterinary sciences anyway?”
“My father was always busy, and my sisters were… interested in anything that could make them more beautiful, or richer. So I was pretty alone for most of my childhood. At some stage I convinced my father to get me a dog, Ladon. We were inseparable. But he got hurt when this man,“ She said it with such disgust he almost flinched. “This man hurt him. Kicked Little Ladon out the way when he was just trying to say hello. We had to take him to the vet, and I remember them being so sweet and kind to my dog and I knew I wanted to be exactly like that when I grew up.”
“Any chance you know where this man is so we can kick his ass?”
She laughed, raspy and bursting, “Don’t worry little eleven-year-old me kicked Mr Alcides as hard as I could in the shins.”
“Good,” he nodded with conviction, “He deserved more but you found your passion so there is some balance.”
She hid her grin behind a sip from her drink.
“Sir, ma’am,” Their waitress stepped to their table, “Would you like to order?”
Hours later, cheeks flushed from the liquor, laughing over Thalia’s antics and their shared need for structure, they finally decided to call the dinner to an end.
“The focaccia was to die for,” Zoe groaned, patting her stomach.
“Honestly, I may have to marry the pasta.” He sighed contentedly.
She giggled, and he knew it was a rare thing for her because her face caught that surprised look again.
“Want to grab dessert?”
“Oh gods no,” She shook her head in alarm, and then frowned as the realisation of what that meant washed through her.
“I had a really great time tonight,” He started softly.
“Do you want to walk to the park? We can stop and have gelato?” Her dark eyes were full of nervous hope.
He blinked at her, a little shocked she wanted to continue the date, “I thought you didn’t want dessert?” He teased.
“Maybe the walk will burn off some of these calories and i’ll have space for a little ice-cream.” She scunched her nose.
He knew the gelato was just an excuse, so with a grin that lit up his whole face he grabbed her hand and nodded, “Let’s do it Miss Nightshade.”
Her face glowed with relief and enthusiasm as they tucked their chairs in and exited the restaurant.
“Tell me about your family. How come you weren’t interested in the rich side of life like your sisters?”
“I guess being the youngest kind of made it all seem pointless. I had seen what happened when their vanity became malicious and I didn’t ever want to turn into something I couldn’t recognise. I went to stay with my Aunt Diana through high school. She owned a bird sanctuary. That’s where I interned in my college years.”
“Wow,” He looked down to her, awe evident in his face, “And it didn’t bother you to be so far away from your father and sisters?”
“Honestly, I’m not even sure they noticed when I left.” She shrugged, “It was a long time ago. I really only see them for family functions now.”
“And your aunt?”
“She still has the bird sanctuary, but she mostly works in the background now. My cousins, Bianca and Phoebe, run it full time.”
“Do you miss it? Were you guys close?”
“Much closer than my sisters and I. I do miss them, but I definitely can’t say I miss the sanctuary. Some of those birds were evil.”
Just then a loud squawk came from above them. She scowled at the sky, “I’m talking about you Auretta.”
He tried to hold in a laugh but Zoe stuck out her tongue childishly and they both bent over in laughter.
“Maybe we shouldn’t hurl insults while we’re out in the open.” He managed to gasp.
“Good thing the gelato shop is right there.” She grinned, grabbing his hand and sprinting towards the small, illuminated store at the end of the cobbled street. Her dress shimmered, moved like rays of light. She looked like a star.
“Come on,” She yelled, tugging at his hand harder.
‘Alright, alright,” He snapped out of his admiration and let her lead him into the shop.
“Hi, what can I get you?”
“Want to share?”
“Sure, you choose,” He waved a hand towards the abundance of flavours behind the glass.
“Please can we have one scoop of chocolate, one scoop of vanilla and,” Her brow furrowed as she scanned the tags, “And one scoop of cookie crumble.”
“Why did I think you were a sorbet girl?”
“Sorbet in the summer, anything else for the rest of the year.” She said matter of factly.
He nodded solemnly, “Yes makes sense.”
She swatted his arm, grabbing the cone from the lady with a thank you, “Gods I feel like a teenager again,”
“I know what you mean,” Her excitement was infectious.
“I have to ask,” She swallowed a chunk of cookie crumble, “What on earth were you thinking when you decided to eat a stapler?”
Jason groaned, “Why did Thalia tell you that? She swore she wouldn’t tell anyone and if asked I would say I fell off my bike or something.”
Zoe giggled, “Come on, spill.”
“Okay, first of all I was two,” He sighed, embarrassment heating his cheeks, “And it was shiny, and it made a cool clicking noise, and I wanted to know what it tasted like.”
“I can just picture a little Jason crawling onto the kitchen counter and trying to bite down on a stapler.” She teased.
“Yes well now I have this scar,” He pointed to his upper lip, rolling his eyes.
“Battle scars. Very worthy.”
He shoved at her shoulder lightly and they dissolved into laughter once more.
It was almost midnight by the time he had dropped her off at home and stepped into his apartment. He looked at his phone to see a couple work messages, and something from Hazel– things he could reply to in the morning he decided, tugging off his tie and discarding his clothes as he walked to his room. He was asleep before his head hit the pillow, his phone still glaringly bright and open on the chat with his sister.
You were right. We’re going on a second date.
-----------------------------------------------------
Grover is like some other worldy deity that spews life lessons every time they meet and i am so here for it! Anyway what y’all saying??? How are we feeling?
Tags (if you want to be added to/ taken off the tag list just let me know, all my channels of communication are open):
@lesbian-peanuts
@leydiangelo
@queen-of-demons-and-hell
@msdrpreist
@sparkythunderstorm
@nishlicious-01
@lucyisblue​
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grelleswife · 4 years
Note
1 to 20 for that reaper oc of yours Giuseppa Ricci >:3
Thank you for asking! >w<
1. What is their gender?
cis woman 2. What is their sexuality?
bisexual 3. What is the meaning behind their name? Do they have any nicknames?
As far as I can recall, I didn't put a whole lot of thought into her name; it's just what "felt right" for her. Her first name, Giuseppa, means "the Lord increases" or "the Lord adds," while her surname, Ricci, is derived from the Italian adjective riccio, or "curly." Pretty ironic, since Giuseppa was never particularly devout, and her hair is straight unless she goes at it with a curling iron! She doesn't really have any nicknames. 4. Do they have any siblings? How many? Are they older or younger? Which sibling are they closest with?
She had two older brothers and a younger sister, though I don't "know" her well enough to say what her relationship with them was like. All three of them perished after Giuseppa's father got on the wrong side of a mafia boss, who ordered that he and his family be killed. 5. What's their relationship with their parents like? What about other relatives?
Giuseppa was only around 3-4 when her parents were murdered, so her memories of them are few and far between. :( However, she was taken in by cousins on her mother's side of the family, some of whom happened to be involved with the underworld, and who trained her to become a deadly, capable assassin. But these relatives also recognized her musical gifts and ensured that she received lessons from a very young age, which allowed her to pursue a successful career in opera as an adult. 6. What would they give their life for?
Her loved ones, and her art. 7. Are they in a romantic relationship? With whom? How did they meet?
Yes! She's currently dating Miss Grelle. They met through happenstance. Due to her skill set, Giuseppa assumed that she would be assigned to collections, and was outraged and deeply offended upon learning that women were generally relegated to office/secretarial positions. She barged into William's office to give him a piece of her mind (broke his paperweight, into the bargain) around the same time that Grelle was walking by with a stack of paperwork. Always one to enjoy workplace drama, Grelle hovered by William's door, eavesdropping...only to have the hotheaded Italian reaper crash into her when Giuseppa stormed out in a fury, sending both of them and Grelle's paperwork toppling to the floor. Giuseppa was profusely apologetic, but Grelle didn't mind--she was too busy being distracted by how gorgeous this woman was. XD Grelle impulsively offered to serve as Giuseppa's mentor ("I'm the only lady in collections, dear Will, so who better than me to show her the ropes?") William, thoroughly stressed and fed-up by this point, caved to Giuseppa's demands and said that he supposed exceptions could be made. He didn't want to risk further enraging a diva! 8. What do they believe will happen to them after they die? Does this belief scare them?
Although nominally Catholic, Giuseppa didn't put much stock in religion when she was human; witnessing corruption within the Church and seeing more of the dark side of humanity than the average person made her skeptical. She wasn't sure what, if anything, lay beyond the grave, so she focused on living life to the fullest while she could. Of course, once she became a reaper, those beliefs changed. She hadn't expected turning into a goddess, but there were certainly worse fates...though she could have done without the ridiculous workload. 9. What is their favorite color? Favorite animal?
Red and gold! She loves tropical birds because of their bright plumage. However, after she and Grelle wind up getting some pet ferrets (it's a long story), those cute little critters become her new faves. 10. What are some of their talents/skills?
Singing (she's a soprano), acting, dancing, lockpicking, climbing, killing (knives are her preferred weapon, but she also has an extensive knowledge of poisons) 11. If they could make a mark on history, what would they like it to be?
Giuseppa's aspirations aren't quite that lofty, but she would like to be remembered as one of the greatest sopranos of her time. 12. How old are they? When is their birthday?
She was 25 at the time of her death. I'm not sure what her exact birthday is, but she's an Aries, so sometime in March or April. 13. What do they do for fun?
Go shopping or to the beach, karaoke (or just singing in general), have a spa day 14. What is their favorite food? How often do they get to eat it?
Pasta alla norma (ingredients include tomatoes, eggplant, garlic, basil, and ricotta salata). Grelle eventually learns how to make it for her, so Giuseppa gets to eat it pretty regularly! She also adores cannolis. 15. What was something their parents taught them?
N/A, since she lost them so early. 16. Are they religious?
As mentioned above, she was raised Catholic, but Giuseppa focused on the beautiful music rather than the doctrine (she sang in the choir) 17. Where were they born?
Sicily 18. What languages can they speak? Where did they learn these languages?
Italian, English, French, and German 19. What is their occupation?
When she was human, opera singer and professional freelance assassin. Back when I first created Giuseppa, I envisioned her as a mafia hitwoman, but I recently decided to change this part of her backstory since mafiosi are such unsavory characters. As a reaper, she works in collections. 20. Do they have any titles? How did they earn them?
Hmm...none that I can think of! But she's regarded as one of dispatch's best soul-collectors. Not many death gods can keep up with Grelle like she can!
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doctor243 · 4 years
Text
The End of the World
Ok here’s the IronWidow I promised you lol
Chapter 3: Comfort
Summary: “This is how the world ends. Not with a bang, but with a……” or How I feel Endgame should have been written.
AO3
Pairing: Tony Stark x Natasha Romanoff
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“Any news?” Natasha took a bite out of a PB&J sandwich. Her hair had grown longer in the past three years, and she now had it in a ponytail.
The older man sighed and shook his head. “There haven’t been any signs of his appearance since the last massacre.” Nat nodded, steeling herself.
“The Chinese Secret Societies?” She asked.
“No, the Italian Mafia,” he looked at her sympathetically. “Nat, if he doesn’t want to be found, he won’t be. You know that,” he said gently. “He’s got the same S.H.I.E.L.D. training as you.”
“I know,” she smiled at him sadly. “But I still have to try.”
The colonel nodded solemnly and reached to end the call.
“Rhodey,” she called out. He paused and looked at her. “Thanks for doing this.”
He just smiled at her and hung up, his image fading into pixels on the hologram projector. She let a small sob escape her lips as she fell back into her chair and brought her hands to her face. The Red Room had taught her how to eradicate any outer indication of emotion, but that never meant that she had none. It was a simple choice of hers whether to display the emotions or to hold them inside. But the Red Room had only prepared her for infiltration and interrogation and assassination and intimidation. Never would she have dreamt of being ready for death on such a large scale caused by beings from other planets, or superpowers that had only been true in fantasy.
“Still can’t find the little birdy?”
Nat’s head whipped around to find Tony leaning against the door frame of the hologram room. She shook her head, not trusting her voice.
“Oh Natalie,” he sighed, walking over to her while she snorted humourlessly at the name he used. “Come here.” He opened his arms to her.
Without a moment’s hesitation, she threw herself into his arms and wept, tears falling shamelessly and arms tight around his middle. The past three years had seen many of their hugs, and many of their tears. They had become each other’s confidant, helping each other to heal, even when the world seemed to have done so swimmingly.
“I need to find him, Tony,” Natasha whispered.
“I know, Nat,” he soothed, his warm hand rubbing circles on her back.
“He was there when I had nobody,” she continued. “He gave me a chance to have a new life, and without him, I never would have been a part of this team.” Her grip tightened on him. “This family.”
“We’ll find him,” Tony promised.
“I need to be there for him,” she cried again, heart aching as she thought about how he must have felt when he lost his wife, his children, and his entire world. And yet, a tiny part of her wondered if she actually wanted to find him. What could she do if they found the archer? She had nothing to offer him that could dampen his pain.
“We’ll be there for him,” Tony whispered once more, and Nat finally smiled as something clicked in her mind.
We. Us. Family.
Tony roared, the sound ripping through the entire cabin and breaking the blessed silence of the night. The door to Natasha’s room was flung open and the redhead shot out towards the source of the sound. She ignored the way her heart clenched at the pure sorrow that she heard in his voice. Yet when she ripped his door open, ready to rain down all the wrath and fire that heaven and hell could offer, his voice had reduced to a low wail, and her heart only dropped further. His hands were covering his face, but through the gaps of his fingers, she could see his frantic eyes darting around, as streams of tears leaked down his knuckles.
“Tony,” she whispered, inching forward cautiously.
He didn’t appear to register her voice, but his voice had died down to a soft whimper and an occasional sob. She continued to gently close the distance between them, hands held in plain sight as though she were approaching a wounded wolf. The nearer she got, the more she noticed his shaking body and hiccupped breath.
“Daddy?”
Immediately, Tony snapped out his stupor and looked to the door, where the silhouette of his beloved daughter stood. Natasha turned around as well, unsure whether she should usher the girl out the room or allow her to comfort her father.
“Hey baby,” the mechanic choked out with obvious effort. “What’s going on?”
“I heard yelling,” Morgan mumbled, rubbing her eyes. “’s everything ok?”
“Of course, Morguna,” her father smiled shakily as he trembled out of the bed and opened his arms invitingly. “Daddy just had a nightmare.”
Natasha sighed with a fond smile and ushered the sleepy girl forward. “Give your father a hug and go back to sleep.”
Morgan drowsily wrapped her arms around Tony’s neck and mumbled something incoherent. Nat noted his rattling hands calm a little as he took in a deep whiff of Morgan’s scent and his touch confirmed the reality of the situation. When they finally parted, she gave him a kiss on the cheek before stumbling blindly towards her bedroom. The master assassin followed her out as she gave Tony a look of concern.
“I’ll be back,” she assured him. “I’m just gonna put her to bed.”
Morgan had fallen asleep the minute her head touched the pillow, and Natasha couldn’t have been more grateful that she could hurry back to Tony’s side. She found him in the same spot she’d left him – at the foot of the bed, knees propped up and eyes staring into blank space.
She gingerly took her place next to him and placed her hand over his and waited.
“I was on Titan again,” he whispered after a very long few minutes. “And Peter was disintegrating in my arms. Again.”
Natasha gripped his hand even tighter.
“I couldn’t even preserve his ashes, Natasha,” he grunted. “Not a single one of his atoms.”
Still, Natasha said nothing. What could she say? Any word uttered would be a poor comfort to a broken heart. So instead, she stood up and pulled him into bed. He followed wordlessly, and she pulled up the quilt, before wrapping his arms around her shoulders.
“Hold on tight,” she breathed. “I won’t disappear.”
He didn’t reply, but his arms grew secure. When she woke up in the morning, he was still holding her.
“…and then I swear, she just caves!”
“Holy crap, Tones I hope you got that on video,” Rhodey laughed, his arms crossed in amusement.
“I wish I did,” Tony mused regretfully.
“What’re you talking about?”
The genius turned around to find Natasha walking into the hologram room.
“Oh nothing,” he teased. “Just how Morgan flashed her puppy eyes at you and you caved to her request for ice cream.”
Natasha rolled her eyes and stood next to him. “Your daughter is too cute for her own good, Stark.”
“She gets it from her dad,” he smiled before looking at the rest of the participants in the room. “Alright, now that the boss is here, we can begin.” Natasha swatted his arm while Steve laughed and Okeye smirked before beginning her update.
“Daddy! Can we have cheeseburgers?” Morgan bounced over to her father cheerily with a grin.
“I don’t know, sweetheart,” he smiled as he picked her up. “We have to ask Aunt Nat. She might want something else.”
“I love cheeseburgers!” she hummed.
“Me too,” he laughed. “So you need to ask her really nicely okay?”
“Okay!” she agreed. “Aunty Nat!” she called when they got into the house.
“Hello, my little munchkin,” Natasha smiled fondly. “What’s going on?”
“Can we have cheeseburgers?” she asked with a grin.
Natasha looked over at Tony’s knowing smile and decided to play. “Hmm I don’t know, sweetie,” she placed a finger on her lips. “I kinda wanted pasta today.”
“Do the eyes, Morguna,” Tony whispered excitedly. “Do the-” Nat’s hand shot out and slapped over his mouth. She didn’t need the little one to know how much power she held with those compelling eyes. Tony’s eyes narrowed while Morgan looked around, confused. Suddenly her hand felt a wet slick and Natasha yanked away with a yelp, a shiver shooting straight up from the base of her spine to her head.
“Oh my god, did you lick me?” she cried out incredulously.
“Did you not expect me to?” he sniffed. Morgan just chortled gleefully while clinging to her father.
Natasha just walked to the sink in disgust. “Ugh, fine, we can have cheeseburgers.” Morgan cheered in victory while Tony watched her, a smug smile on his face. When the father-daughter duo left to procure their dinner, Natasha wondered why she couldn’t stop thinking of his tongue on her hand.
“Can’t sleep?”
Morgan shook her head as she rubbed her eyes. Natasha just smiled and walked over to pick her up. The adults had been in the living room reading when the little angel had trudged down the stairs, looking frustrated.
“What’s wrong, love?” her father got up as well.
“inon’tknow”
Natasha laughed as she rocked the little girl in her arms. This little bundle of joy that brought her so much peace after so much devastation. “I have a great idea,” she thought out loud.
“Uh-oh,” Tony teased.
“Let’s build a blanket fort!” She suggested, locking eyes with Tony. His eyes widened a little before they filled with warm familiarity.
“And hot chocolate,” he finished with a smile.
“Exactly,” she answered, green eyes sparkling. Morgan giggled in agreement. She liked hot chocolate.
Twenty minutes later found the trio huddled underneath the cover of blankets, the only light coming from the lantern in the fort, and a mug of steaming drink in each of their hands. Tony and Nat, of course, had their additional secret ingredient, while they decided to give Morgan a little less sugar in hers. Nevertheless, she loved it.
“Did I ever tell you the time I met Uncle Steve?” Tony asked his daughter, who shook her head, a moustache of whipped cream decorating her upper lip. Natasha smiled by the side, reaching over to wipe it off. “Well I hated him.”
Morgan gasped in surprise. “Really?”
“Yep,” he confirmed, before continuing the story and putting a lighter spin to it – he didn’t need a traumatised five-year-old on his hands. By the time he was finished, their mugs were empty, and the child was asleep. He gently stroked her hair and gently placed a kiss on her forehead.
“Alright,” he groaned, climbing out of the tent and picking Morgan up. Natasha slid out as well, picking up the empty mugs and placing a kiss of her own on the girl’s head. She’d grown attached to the sight of Tony’s paternal affections and they must have rubbed off on her. “I’m gonna put the little miss here to bed. You go and get us some refills.” The redhead perked up with a nod, a hint of a smile forming at her lips as she bounded to the kitchen.
When he returned, she was already waiting for him, curled up under another (another??) blanket with renewed cups. She watched him climb in and join her with a chuckle. This blanket fort was smaller than the one they’d built in the tower, years back, but it was just as comfortable, and possibly even more cosy.
“She’s such an angel,” Natasha sighed contently.
“Yes, she is,” Tony hummed, taking a sip from his mug. His cheeks were starting to get a little pink, but to be fair they’d gone a little strong on the Irish Cream. To be further fairer, Natasha’s cheeks were kind of rosy too.
“You know, I found her grabbing cookies out of the jar and she said they were for you.”
Tony looked up in astonishment. “I never got any cookies,” he gasped, flabbergasted. “How could you let her lie to you like that?”
“Well,” the super-spy answered, finishing her mug. “She has her mother’s smile.”
“She does,” the Mechanic agreed softly, before turning to look at her. “But she has your kindness.”
“Me?” she snorted, rolling her eyes. “There’s so many things wrong with that statement.”
“Why?” Tony challenged, a spark in his eyes. “Because you’re not birth mother?”
“Well that,” Natasha huffed, suddenly exasperated. She didn’t want to have to spell it out for him, even if he was teasing her. “And I mean, ‘kindness’ is not exactly the word most would associate with the Black Widow.”
“That’s true,” he replied with a chuckle. “But I would associate it with ‘Natasha Romanoff’.”
She looked at him with a quirked eyebrow (there was that dangerous, dangerous eyebrow) and frowned. “Stop kidding,” she warned. She was getting a little upset by how irritating he was being. There was no need to dive into her can of worms.
“You are probably the kindest person I know,” Tony insisted, placing a hand on her wrist. “So kind that you don’t even know it.” She scoffed, but he insisted on continuing. “Who waited until the last possible second to close the wormhole just so that I had a chance of returning to this world?”
“Anyone would-”
“Who was the only one who could calm the hulk down?”
“That’s cuz-”
“Who immediately started relief work when she got back to New York? Who moved five states away to be by a lake just so I wouldn’t be lonely? Who organises meetings across the galaxy so that we’re still connected? Who helps me through my nightmares without a single complaint? Who spent the last three years looking for her best friend? Who still hasn’t given up?”
She finally shut up and broke eye contact, her fiery green eyes burning into the pillows they were lying on.
“Who took care of my daughter when I was stuck in space?” He whispered with a hint of pride, brushing his thumb against her cheek. She looked up at him, a small hint of defiance in her eyes, still unwilling to accept his praise. Was she hearing gratefulness? There was a warmth in his voice that made her suddenly nervous, and she bit her bottom lip. Nervousness was unfamiliar to the Black Widow. She’d sooner swallow the head of the source than allow herself to be seen as flustered. …not really a viable option here.
“Morgan is as much your daughter as she is mine,” Tony said finally. “You’ve raised her alongside me. I couldn’t have done this without you.”
Her eyes started to sting as tears threatened to spill. Judging by Tony’s glistening eyes, so were his.
“Thank you.”
Natasha closed her eyes and breathed. “You don’t have to-” She froze when she felt his lips on her forehead. His lips, slightly chapped, lingered for a little, before he pulled back. The spot burned as her cheeks did, and her heart threatened to break through her ribcage. She stopped breathing. Why was this happening? Displays of affection were no stranger to her, and she was thoroughly trained in physical manipulation, so there was no reason for her to have such a strong reaction to a damned kiss on the forehead.
The only problem was that this wasn’t a physical action, it was one of the soul. She could feel his sincerity and emotions in that kiss, and the silent message: “you are part of my family…if you’d like.” Tony seemed to sense her shock and pulled back.
“Um…Nat?” He asked cautiously. “Are you-”
It was her turn to interrupt him. She reached out and grabbed his shirt, pulling him in as their lips crashed together. She heard him breathe in sharply in surprise, but when she persisted, he melted into her embrace and reciprocated, fingers gently reaching into her hair and tangling themselves into her hair. She groaned as her lips moved against his, the pool of nerves in her belly raging like a bag of beaten snakes, as if she were a teenager again. She barely registered the feeling of spilt hot chocolate on her thighs when she hooked a thigh around Tony’s hips and straddled his waist. His hands roamed the curve of her back while her hands desperately explored every inch of his torso, all the while, the sounds of breathy moans and shifting sheets filled the air.
“Tony,” she gasped when she finally pulled away. She was an absolute sight, her lips swollen, her chest heaving and her cheeks red for a reason other than the alcohol. “Tony,” she repeated.
“Nat,” he answered her, hair messy and panting just as hard, and she soaked in the view, her heart thundering in her ears while her hazy green eyes roamed over his panting chest, the glow of the housing unit from under his shirt, and his piercing eyes, before resting on that infuriating smirk that was still on his lips. Natasha bit her cheek – she had to kiss it away.
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janevx · 4 years
Text
maybe| Yuta Nakamoto IV
genre: mafia au, smut, angst
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---------------------------------
 Two weeks passed really fast. Soyeon was living like regular person. Nothing bad happend to her or anything. Yuta was busy working. Taeyong needed him all the time, but Soyeon doesn’t care at all. He scared her for the sake of god, he kills people, has someting with drug and for sure bite a lot of people. This scared her, that if she does something wrong, he could hurt her. But for real, he propably not. She is too pure to him to hurt. She is someone who doesn’t deserve being his wife, she should be in her house with parents talk about stupid things, but nah.
 Soyeon works in the most popular cafe in Seoul. A lot of people regonized her at the street, becasue she is kind woman with warm heart, who is always talkative and can support anyone. But a lot of co-workes were in schock when she told them about her marriage. She weren’t dating anyone and always avoid men, but now? She is fuckin married.
— Soyeon, table number 12!
— I got it!
 She walked to the table number 12 and took order, then give it back to the barista and chief. Soyeon now has 10 mintues break in her works, so she goes to event and sit with Jisoo and Minsung. 
— Will you introduce him to us?  — Jisoo asked, when she look at her friend with smile
 Soyeon felt a big stomach ache. She never goona introduce her husband to her friends. She will avoid to meet this two as much as she can.
— I don’t think it’s good idea.
— Girl, you avoided him from us for few years! We should get to know him, for real, is he killer or policeman? 
— Hahah, is he mafia or something that you are so scared to meet us?
 Soyeon felt a bit panic. If only her friends know that what they said was true..
— No..I mean..Eh, he is too busy and I geuss he don’t like my friends. He is older about 3 years, so yeah..
— This ain’t that much difference, cmon!
— But he don’t like my friends, just this.
— He has to be asshole, if he donesn’t know us and don’t like us.
— Jerk.
— Exactly, so now, can we talk about something different?
 They end conversation few minutes later, when their break ends. She was so busy workin, but when she saw what time is it she was happy. Two hours and will be 1p.m, two hours and she will be at home.
 Soyeon grab her clothes and was about to change her clothes, but she heard someone calling her by her name. She turned around and saw her husband. She thought that this ain’t he. Yuta changed his hair. Now was white, brown under..[look at gif].. In her eyes, he looks more handsome than before. Also, he looks more dangerous. Her mouth was open, when he smiled to her.
— What are you doing here?
— I can’t came to my wife, honey?  — He hugged her  — Nice place. I’m gonna wait for you and drink good caffee, so you don’t have to speed up.
— Of course, thank you Yuta. I’m gonna be come back about few minutes.
 He nodded and did order. WTF?! She was changing her clothes and think about Yuta, she never expected to come back to home with him. He usually doesn’t care about her. Jisoo come back to her with smile.
— I thought your husband is uglier or something, but he is so damn hot. This hairstyle, face, posture.. God damn, you hit the lotto!
— Can you, please, stop talking about my husband as some fuck boy you want to fuck, Jisoo? I know he is hot, but he is my husband.
— Chill out. If you ever gonna break up, Im gonna wait.
 If this would be possible.. Soyeon stop talkin to her friend. Just packed her staff and come back to her husband, who ends drink coffee. 
— Can we go?
— Of course, darling.
 They left while they were holding hands. They look like happy couple, but this was only mask. They arrived to the car, and Soyeon felt that she has to ask about reason for his comming.
— Why did you come? I mean, you usually doesn’t give a damn about me, you are busy, so..I’m surprised.
— I care about you, silly.  — He shrugged.  —  I’m sorry if this looks like this. And today I had good day, so I thought that I can arrive you and spend some time.
— Yeah, are you sure? I mean..
— Are you still scared of me?
— I’m sorry, I’m not gonna lie..  — She looked into his eyes  — You are still scarring me in some type of way. Just things you do.. It’s really scary.
— Don’t think about it. 
— I can’t. About two weeks I think only about this. Did you kill someone? Did you do something wrong? It’s weird.
— So don’t look at my as gangsta, look at me as your husband, as a lover.
— But you aren’t my lover.. —  she whispers.
 He didin’t know how to respond. He just choosed to change the topic.
— Today you gonna meet with Johnny and Taeyong.
— Ex husband of my sister and boss of NCT?  — Her heart start pounding  — Did I do something wrong? Or I said something wrong? If yes, I’m sorr-
— NO!  — He shouted  — Just no, they want to talk about Jasmin, your sister. Also, tommorow we gonna fly to Japan.
— I don’t know Japanese.
— You don’t have to.
 At this point they end. Yuta was busy thinking and Soyeon was thinking about everything. Taeyong is really scarry guy, scarrier than Yuta? Yes! They look like they are at the same level. She was scared to meet guy who dated her sister. She was scared of truth.
When they arrived to their house, Yuta leave her. His mood change really fast, what Soyeon regonized a few days ago. He can’t control his feelings or something. Damn, Soyeon has hard time. She has to take care about what she talk, do, watch.. Everything. She was hungry so she did some pasta with tomatoes. She likes this.
 About 4 p.m someone knocked to the door. Yuta disallow her to open the door, because it could be enemy. She waited till Yuta take his Japanese ass from upstair and go back to downstair to open the freakin door. Few seconds passed, and he open the door with smile at his face.
Two weeks passed really fast. Soyeon was living like regular person. Nothing bad happend to her or anything. Yuta was busy working. Taeyong needed him all the time, but Soyeon doesn’t care at all. He scared her for the sake of god, he kills people, has someting with drug and for sure bite a lot of people. This scared her, that if she does something wrong, he could hurt her. But for real, he propably not. She is too pure to him to hurt. She is someone who doesn’t deserve being his wife, she should be in her house with parents talk about stupid things, but nah.
Soyeon works in the most popular cafe in Seoul. A lot of people regonized her at the street, becasue she is kind woman with warm heart, who is always talkative and can support anyone. But a lot of co-workes were in schock when she told them about her marriage. She weren’t dating anyone and always avoid men, but now? She is fuckin married.
— Soyeon, table number 12!
— I got it!
She walked to the table number 12 and took order, then give it back to the barista and chief. Soyeon now has 10 mintues break in her works, so she goes to event and sit with Jisoo and Minsung.
— Will you introduce him to us?  — Jisoo asked, when she look at her friend with smile
Soyeon felt a big stomach ache. She never goona introduce her husband to her friends. She will avoid to meet this two as much as she can.
— I don’t think it’s good idea.
— Girl, you avoided him from us for few years! We should get to know him, for real, is he killer or policeman?
— Hahah, is he mafia or something that you are so scared to meet us?
Soyeon felt a bit panic. If only her friends know that what they said was true..
— No..I mean..Eh, he is too busy and I geuss he don’t like my friends. He is older about 3 years, so yeah..
— This ain’t that much difference, cmon!
— But he don’t like my friends, just this.
— He has to be asshole, if he donesn’t know us and don’t like us.
— Jerk.
— Exactly, so now, can we talk about something different?
They end conversation few minutes later, when their break ends. She was so busy workin, but when she saw what time is it she was happy. Two hours and will be 1p.m, two hours and she will be at home.
Soyeon grab her clothes and was about to change her clothes, but she heard someone calling her by her name. She turned around and saw her husband. She thought that this ain’t he. Yuta changed his hair. Now was white, brown under..[look at gif].. In her eyes, he looks more handsome than before. Also, he looks more dangerous. Her mouth was open, when he smiled to her.
— What are you doing here?
— I can’t came to my wife, honey?  — He hugged her  — Nice place. I’m gonna wait for you and drink good caffee, so you don’t have to speed up.
— Of course, thank you Yuta. I’m gonna be come back about few minutes.
He nodded and did order. WTF?! She was changing her clothes and think about Yuta, she never expected to come back to home with him. He usually doesn’t care about her. Jisoo come back to her with smile.
— I thought your husband is uglier or something, but he is so damn hot. This hairstyle, face, posture.. God damn, you hit the lotto!
— Can you, please, stop talking about my husband as some fuck boy you want to fuck, Jisoo? I know he is hot, but he is my husband.
— Chill out. If you ever gonna break up, Im gonna wait.
If this would be possible.. Soyeon stop talkin to her friend. Just packed her staff and come back to her husband, who ends drink coffee.
— Can we go?
— Of course, darling.
They left while they were holding hands. They look like happy couple, but this was only mask. They arrived to the car, and Soyeon felt that she has to ask about reason for his comming.
— Why did you come? I mean, you usually doesn’t give a damn about me, you are busy, so..I’m surprised.
— I care about you, silly.  — He shrugged.  —  I’m sorry if this looks like this. And today I had good day, so I thought that I can arrive you and spend some time.
— Yeah, are you sure? I mean..
— Are you still scared of me?
— I’m sorry, I’m not gonna lie..  — She looked into his eyes  — You are still scarring me in some type of way. Just things you do.. It’s really scary.
— Don’t think about it.
— I can’t. About two weeks I think only about this. Did you kill someone? Did you do something wrong? It’s weird.
— So don’t look at my as gangsta, look at me as your husband, as a lover.
— But you aren’t my lover.. —  she whispers.
He didin’t know how to respond. He just choosed to change the topic.
— Today you gonna meet with Johnny and Taeyong.
— Ex husband of my sister and boss of NCT?  — Her heart start pounding  — Did I do something wrong? Or I said something wrong? If yes, I’m sorr-
— NO!  — He shouted  — Just no, they want to talk about Jasmin, your sister. Also, tommorow we gonna fly to Japan.
— I don’t know Japanese.
— You don’t have to.
At this point they end. Yuta was busy thinking and Soyeon was thinking about everything. Taeyong is really scarry guy, scarrier than Yuta? Yes! They look like they are at the same level. She was scared to meet guy who dated her sister. She was scared of truth. 
 Soyeon regonized that Yuta’s mood change really fast. She did it few days ago. They arrived and she left her to her own. She decided to do pasta and tomatoes, because she was hungry.
About 4 p.m someone knocked to the door. Yuta disallow her to open the door, because it could be enemy. So she waited till he take his Japanese ass and come here to open the door. Few seconds passed and he be back there infront of door. 
 He opened the door with smile, when he saw Johnny and Taeyong. Soyeon was sitting frozen on the couch, back to them. She heard that, Yuta be upstair in his office if they gonna need him. Will she be alone with two, technically strange, men? Breatch, breatch, breach..
Two weeks passed really fast. Soyeon was living like regular person. Nothing bad happend to her or anything. Yuta was busy working. Taeyong needed him all the time, but Soyeon doesn’t care at all. He scared her for the sake of god, he kills people, has someting with drug and for sure bite a lot of people. This scared her, that if she does something wrong, he could hurt her. But for real, he propably not. She is too pure to him to hurt. She is someone who doesn’t deserve being his wife, she should be in her house with parents talk about stupid things, but nah.
Soyeon works in the most popular cafe in Seoul. A lot of people regonized her at the street, becasue she is kind woman with warm heart, who is always talkative and can support anyone. But a lot of co-workes were in schock when she told them about her marriage. She weren’t dating anyone and always avoid men, but now? She is fuckin married.
— Soyeon, table number 12!
— I got it!
She walked to the table number 12 and took order, then give it back to the barista and chief. Soyeon now has 10 mintues break in her works, so she goes to event and sit with Jisoo and Minsung.
— Will you introduce him to us?  — Jisoo asked, when she look at her friend with smile
Soyeon felt a big stomach ache. She never goona introduce her husband to her friends. She will avoid to meet this two as much as she can.
— I don’t think it’s good idea.
— Girl, you avoided him from us for few years! We should get to know him, for real, is he killer or policeman?
— Hahah, is he mafia or something that you are so scared to meet us?
Soyeon felt a bit panic. If only her friends know that what they said was true..
— No..I mean..Eh, he is too busy and I geuss he don’t like my friends. He is older about 3 years, so yeah..
— This ain’t that much difference, cmon!
— But he don’t like my friends, just this.
— He has to be asshole, if he donesn’t know us and don’t like us.
— Jerk.
— Exactly, so now, can we talk about something different?
They end conversation few minutes later, when their break ends. She was so busy workin, but when she saw what time is it she was happy. Two hours and will be 1p.m, two hours and she will be at home.
Soyeon grab her clothes and was about to change her clothes, but she heard someone calling her by her name. She turned around and saw her husband. She thought that this ain’t he. Yuta changed his hair. Now was white, brown under..[look at gif].. In her eyes, he looks more handsome than before. Also, he looks more dangerous. Her mouth was open, when he smiled to her.
— What are you doing here?
— I can’t came to my wife, honey?  — He hugged her  — Nice place. I’m gonna wait for you and drink good caffee, so you don’t have to speed up.
— Of course, thank you Yuta. I’m gonna be come back about few minutes.
He nodded and did order. WTF?! She was changing her clothes and think about Yuta, she never expected to come back to home with him. He usually doesn’t care about her. Jisoo come back to her with smile.
— I thought your husband is uglier or something, but he is so damn hot. This hairstyle, face, posture.. God damn, you hit the lotto!
— Can you, please, stop talking about my husband as some fuck boy you want to fuck, Jisoo? I know he is hot, but he is my husband.
— Chill out. If you ever gonna break up, Im gonna wait.
If this would be possible.. Soyeon stop talkin to her friend. Just packed her staff and come back to her husband, who ends drink coffee.
— Can we go?
— Of course, darling.
They left while they were holding hands. They look like happy couple, but this was only mask. They arrived to the car, and Soyeon felt that she has to ask about reason for his comming.
— Why did you come? I mean, you usually doesn’t give a damn about me, you are busy, so..I’m surprised.
— I care about you, silly.  — He shrugged.  —  I’m sorry if this looks like this. And today I had good day, so I thought that I can arrive you and spend some time.
— Yeah, are you sure? I mean..
— Are you still scared of me?
— I’m sorry, I’m not gonna lie..  — She looked into his eyes  — You are still scarring me in some type of way. Just things you do.. It’s really scary.
— Don’t think about it.
— I can’t. About two weeks I think only about this. Did you kill someone? Did you do something wrong? It’s weird.
— So don’t look at my as gangsta, look at me as your husband, as a lover.
— But you aren’t my lover.. —  she whispers.
He didin’t know how to respond. He just choosed to change the topic.
— Today you gonna meet with Johnny and Taeyong.
— Ex husband of my sister and boss of NCT?  — Her heart start pounding  — Did I do something wrong? Or I said something wrong? If yes, I’m sorr-
— NO!  — He shouted  — Just no, they want to talk about Jasmin, your sister. Also, tommorow we gonna fly to Japan.
— I don’t know Japanese.
— You don’t have to.
At this point they end. Yuta was busy thinking and Soyeon was thinking about everything. Taeyong is really scarry guy, scarrier than Yuta? Yes! They look like they are at the same level. She was scared to meet guy who dated her sister. She was scared of truth Two weeks passed really fast. Soyeon was living like regular person. Nothing bad happend to her or anything. Yuta was busy working. Taeyong needed him all the time, but Soyeon doesn’t care at all. He scared her for the sake of god, he kills people, has someting with drug and for sure bite a lot of people. This scared her, that if she does something wrong, he could hurt her. But for real, he propably not. She is too pure to him to hurt. She is someone who doesn’t deserve being his wife, she should be in her house with parents talk about stupid things, but nah. Soyeon works in the most popular cafe in Seoul. A lot of people regonized her at the street, becasue she is kind woman with warm heart, who is always talkative and can support anyone. But a lot of co-workes were in schock when she told them about her marriage. She weren’t dating anyone and always avoid men, but now? She is fuckin married.— Soyeon, table number 12! — I got it! She walked to the table number 12 and took order, then give it back to the barista and chief. Soyeon now has 10 mintues break in her works, so she goes to event and sit with Jisoo and Minsung. — Will you introduce him to us?  — Jisoo asked, when she look at her friend with smile Soyeon felt a big stomach ache. She never goona introduce her husband to her friends. She will avoid to meet this two as much as she can.— I don’t think it’s good idea. — Girl, you avoided him from us for few years! We should get to know him, for real, is he killer or policeman? — Hahah, is he mafia or something that you are so scared to meet us? Soyeon felt a bit panic. If only her friends know that what they said was true..— No..I mean..Eh, he is too busy and I geuss he don’t like my friends. He is older about 3 years, so yeah.. — This ain’t that much difference, cmon! — But he don’t like my friends, just this. — He has to be asshole, if he donesn’t know us and don’t like us. — Jerk. — Exactly, so now, can we talk about something different? They end conversation few minutes later, when their break ends. She was so busy workin, but when she saw what time is it she was happy. Two hours and will be 1p.m, two hours and she will be at home. Soyeon grab her clothes and was about to change her clothes, but she heard someone calling her by her name. She turned around and saw her husband. She thought that this ain’t he. Yuta changed his hair. Now was white, brown under..[look at gif].. In her eyes, he looks more handsome than before. Also, he looks more dangerous. Her mouth was open, when he smiled to her.— What are you doing here? — I can’t came to my wife, honey?  — He hugged her  — Nice place. I’m gonna wait for you and drink good caffee, so you don’t have to speed up. — Of course, thank you Yuta. I’m gonna be come back about few minutes. He nodded and did order. WTF?! She was changing her clothes and think about Yuta, she never expected to come back to home with him. He usually doesn’t care about her. Jisoo come back to her with smile.— I thought your husband is uglier or something, but he is so damn hot. This hairstyle, face, posture.. God damn, you hit the lotto! — Can you, please, stop talking about my husband as some fuck boy you want to fuck, Jisoo? I know he is hot, but he is my husband. — Chill out. If you ever gonna break up, Im gonna wait. If this would be possible.. Soyeon stop talkin to her friend. Just packed her staff and come back to her husband, who ends drink coffee. — Can we go? — Of course, darling. They left while they were holding hands. They look like happy couple, but this was only mask. They arrived to the car, and Soyeon felt that she has to ask about reason for his comming.— Why did you come? I mean, you usually doesn’t give a damn about me, you are busy, so..I’m surprised. — I care about you, silly.  — He shrugged.  —  I’m sorry if this looks like this. And today I had good day, so I thought that I can arrive you and spend some time. — Yeah, are you sure? I mean.. — Are you still scared of me? — I’m sorry, I’m not gonna lie..  — She looked into his eyes  — You are still scarring me in some type of way. Just things you do.. It’s really scary. — Don’t think about it. — I can’t. About two weeks I think only about this. Did you kill someone? Did you do something wrong? It’s weird. — So don’t look at my as gangsta, look at me as your husband, as a lover. — But you aren’t my lover.. —  she whispers. He didin’t know how to respond. He just choosed to change the topic.— Today you gonna meet with Johnny and Taeyong. — Ex husband of my sister and boss of NCT?  — Her heart start pounding  — Did I do something wrong? Or I said something wrong? If yes, I’m sorr-— NO!  — He shouted  — Just no, they want to talk about Jasmin, your sister. Also, tommorow we gonna fly to Japan. — I don’t know Japanese. — You don’t have to. At this point they end. Yuta was busy thinking and Soyeon was thinking about everything. Taeyong is really scarry guy, scarrier than Yuta? Yes! They look like they are at the same level. She was scared to meet guy who dated her sister. She was scared of truth. 
 She regonized that Yuta’s mood change really fast. She did it few days ago. They arrived and Yuta left her on her own. She was hungry, so she decided to make some pasta with tomatoes. 
 About 4 p.m she heard koncking to the door. Yuta disallow her to open the door, because it could be enemy. She waited till Yuta take his Japanese ass and come here to open the freakin door. Few seconds passed and he opened the door.
 He smiled when he did this. It’’s Taeyong and Johnny. She sit frozen on the couch, back to them. She heard that if they need him, he gonna be upstair in his office. Will she be alone with, techincally strange, people? Damn! Breatch, breatch, breatch..
— Hello Soyeon. 
 They took their seats and look at her. Her face was pale. 
— I geuss you are not ready, to hear truth about your older, little, sister?  — Taeyong smirked, and she nodded  —But we don’t have much time. Whatever you like this or not, you gonna listen us.
— I understand.
— Johnny, go ahead.
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Text
nobody likes a claggy bit of cheese
this idea came to me in mid november while i was watching an episode of the great british bakeoff and crocheting a scarf for my sister while eating a very very healthy college lunch of apple sauce and caramel corn. someone (maybe it was paul) said the word “claggy” and i was like Wow That’s British. and then someone else (probably paul again) said “stodgy” and i was like WoW ThAts BriTisH. and then i was like you know who would appreciate these Very British Words?? my dumb friend who likes to pretend he's british. and thEn i was like Oh Shit what if he hosted great british bakeoff that would be energy oh my god. and i was About to text him that when i was like No Wait! instead of a baking competition it would be a Mac And Cheese competition because that's like,,,his wholes pride and joy. and then i was about to text him that but then i was like wAIT! this has fic written all over it oh my god i can see it now. and now here we are.
also mikey in case you didn't realize, you are my dumb fake british friend and this is your present but i mean its more of your persona slapped on race and i called it a day. its not a mothman shirt but it'll have to do eye guess
anywaymst 
enjoy this trash pile 
_________
ship: eye guess its platonic ralbert
genre: pure ass crack
warnings: uhmmm, race is an idiot, poorly written british accents, paul hollywood stare, uhhh, albert is Annoyed, jack is an idiot who makes bad mac, spot get Angryyy, idk im writing there before the fic is finished, katherine definitely knows the mafia
editing: lol that's funny
words: enough to fill a few pages but not enough to bore you to death like the metamorphosis
_________
“CHEESE!”
Blankets tornadoed around the room as Race jumped off the bed in a half awake sleepy haze, barely landing on his feet in a fight stance, wielding his phone like a weapon in front of him. He glared into the dark corners (not that he could even tell where the corners were considering that it was pitch dark) of the room before stumbling out into the hallway, muttering madly about cheese.
“Cheese...blue cheese…..string cheese…...mozzarella cheese….” Race barely heard his own half-mad whispers as he opened all the cabinets, rummaging around in the same matter a hurricane floods a basement, in a mad search for pasta. When he came up empty handed he scowled, sat himself up on the counter and yelled for the next best thing:
“ALLLLLLLBBEEEEEERRRRRRRRRRT!”
CRASH! That would be Albert falling out of bed. Race kicked his feet against the cabinet impatiently.
WHOOSH! SLAM! And there was Albert’s door opening and closing at an alarming speed.
THUMP! THUMP! THUMP! THUMP! THUMP! The pictures in the living room began to shake, announcing his arrival.
“Race?! What’s going on? Are you okay??” And there was Albert, sliding into the kitchen in nothing but a pair of socks and boxers (despite the fact that it was probably 3 degrees out), weilding a single black converse high top. Race wasn’t quite sure how the shoe was supposed to help him, but he decided to ignore it. He couldn’t afford to get distracted by Albert’s weird antics when there was a legitimate crisis at hand.
“Race…?” Albert asked again, slowly lowering his shoe. “Is everything-” “We’re out of pasta.”
“We’re- what?” The shoe Albert had been holding banged to the floor. “You’re telling me that you woke me up at” he peered at the oven clock over Race’s shoulder, “three fifteen am  to tell me that we’re out of pasta?”
“It’s horrible isn’t it?” Race slammed his head into the cabinet behind him. “Now I can’t make mac and cheese!” “W h y do you want to make mac and fucking cheese at three fifteen in the goddamn morning?!”
“BECAUSE ALBERT-” Race jumped down off the counter, “-I had a dream. A dream where I was competing on The Great British Bakeoff and I made my Famous mac and cheese. And Paul Hollywood, the man, the legend h i m s e l f, tasted my humble mac and said ‘Race. That is amazing.’ And gave me a handshake! And I was so honored that I awoke hungry for the wonderful, delicious, creamy taste of mac and cheese. So I wander into the kitchen and what do I find? A fridge full of cheese, but no pasta to be found!” He stepped closer to Albert, planting his hand firmly on his shoulder. “This is an emergency!”
Albert swatted away Race’s hand and rubbed his eyes, already turning back toward his room. “If Paul Hollywood deemed your mac and cheese so amazing then just hold a competition of your own and make other people make mac and cheese for you. That way I don’t have to go to Walgreens at three thirty.” He glanced back over his shoulder. “I’m going back to bed. Don’t make us lose our security deposit.”
Race stood in stunned silence as Albert disappeared down the hall and his door closed.
“That sleep deprived idiot might actually be onto something,” he muttered, launching himself onto one of the bar stools and opening his laptop. He had work to do.
•••
“You know, when I told you to host your own mac and cheese competition I thought I dreamt that entire encounter, and, now that I realize that I definitely didn’t, I especially didn't expect you to make me host it, and I certainly didn’t expect you to make me wear this dumb costume.” He tugged uncomfortably at the dark blazer and black wig.
“Oi mate, if you’re gonna be Sue yew gotta start actin like ‘er!” Race glared.
“But Race-”
“Thas Paul Hollywood to you. I don want none uh this ‘Race’ business,” he crossed his arms and gave Al his best Steely Eyed, Paul Hollywood Glare.
Albert just rolled his eyes and stomped off.
Race sighed happily as he turned to survey the tent in front of him. He had called Katherine last night after his missing pasta crisis and asked if he could use her Dad’s Hampton’s estate to host a mock version of the Great British Bakeoff but for mac and cheese. Katherine, like any good rebellious daughter, had loved the idea and called several of her “contacts” that apparently “owed her favors.” (Race didn’t understand the life of rich people, it seemed very extravagant and two-faced) And that was how Race had come to be standing in a tent with what could very well be the set up of the Great British Bakeoff laid out in front of him with he himself dressed in his very best blue button down and jeans, a spitting image of Paul Hollywood. Well, maybe Paul Hollywood 30 years ago.
His friends that he had invited on to be the contestants of the show were setting up at their stations. There was Jack, Davey, Romeo, Mush, Blink, Finch, Buttons, Specs, JoJo, Spot, Crutchie, and Smalls. Katherine had opted not to participate and instead film everyone to make it seem more like the actual show.
Someone (probably Katherine) had forced Albert to stand next to him to announce the signature challenge that they had prepared.
“Alright bakers-”
Race shot him a side glance.
“-er, mac and cheese cookers?” he tried to amend. “Today Ra-uh, Paul would like you to make a nice, hefty batch of mac and cheese. You may use whatever ingredients you would like, but he would like it to be cheesy, delicious, and contain pasta. You have 45 minutes.” Race could practically hear the sigh in his voice. “On your marks, get set, ba-cOOK!”
Finally, Race thought as his friends scrambled around their respective stations, I’m going to get some good mac.
•••
It was becoming very clear very quickly that Race may not actually be getting any good mac.
He wandered from station to station, Albert following begrudgingly behind him, progressively becoming more and more disappointed in each and every one of his friends. Didn’t any of them know how to cook?
“Roight Jack.” He leaned on the one empty scrap of counter in front of him. “What are yew makin?”
“It’s a surprise.” Jack - well he assumed it was Jack, he couldn’t really be sure with all the flour flying everywhere - ran around his workspace, which was crowded with every ingredient imaginable, from shredded cheese to, was that maple syrup?
“Jack for the sake of the show yew gotta tell us what yew’re makin.” Jack must not have the braincell today.
From somewhere in the flour cloud a timer went off. Jack yelped and dropped what sounded like several pots with an amazingly loud clatter.
“If you really must know - ouch!! - I’m making - god fUCK! - baked mac and cheese with a - SHIT! - crispy top.”
“Alright well,” Albert dodged a flying blob of flaming cheese, “we’ll leave you to it. Hopefully we get to actually eat something edible.”
“Good luck,” Race turned away from Jack’s workstation and leaned towards Albert as they made their way to Mush’s station. “Do we ave a foire extinguishah here?”
“I think so?”
“Good cause we moight need it.” Albert looked at him knowingly for a long minute before the two of them snapped out of it and approached Mush.
“So Mush,” Race said, taking in the polar opposite of the mess of a station that had been Jack’s, “what ave yew got for us?”
Mush smiled, looking up from the block of cheese that he had been grating. “Today I’m going to be making my signature mac and cheese with three kinds of cheese.”
Race let out an audible sigh of relief. Finally something that sounded edible!
“Is that pleasing enough for you, Your Highness?” Mush winked mischievously and Albert giggled.
Race straightened up, checking his mouth for drool (there was none). “Yes, oim looking forward tew it.” He watched as the cheese mush was grating flaked satisfyingly into the bowl, his mouth watering at the very sight and thought of cheese. Oh cheese. Beautiful, rich, delicious cheese. “Oi would like tew sample some cheese if yew don't mind.”
Mush straightened up, putting his hands around his cheese protectively. “And I want someone to slap me so hard my eyes fall out. We can’t all get what we want, Susan B. Anthony.”
“Hollywood, moi name is Paul Hollywood.” Race glared at Mush, horrified that he would decline him the judge a cheese sample! Paul Hollywood always got ingredient samples when he asked for them! Maybe he should have put more effort into his hair today…
“I know very well who you are,” Mush went back to grating his cheese. It was as if he were mocking Race with every bit of shredded goodness that fell onto the glorious cheese mountain.
“I do believe you’ve upset Mr. Hollywood.” Albert smirked. Of course he had to join in on the make-Race-feel-like-hes-being-mocked party.
“I don’t particularly care about Mr. Hollywood’s feelings,” Mush put down the grater and reached under his counter for a pan. “What I do care about is the fate of my mac and cheese so,” he stared at the two of them, deadpan , “be gone Thots.”
“But-”
“I SAID BE GONE THOTS!” Mush pointed a wooden spoon at the two of them menacingly and Race half expected sparks to shoot out of the end like some kind of sorcery bullshit, but all he got was a cloud of flour to the face and twelve sets of confused eyes looking at him.
“Uhh,” he mustered every ounce of Paul Hollywood that he could, “thank yew Mush.” Quickly he turned away, brushing the flour out of his sharpied on beard and mustache while Albert stifled laughter next to him. “Shut up,” he muttered.
“But that was-”
“Oi said shut- oh hoi Smalls!” He tried desperately to regain his composure as they approached the final station.
“Gucci Prada my fuckin clown wig I- oh, uh, hi!” Smalls quickly put the spatula that she had been holding behind her back.
“What are yew makin for uh today?” Race took in Smalls’s station. There was a wide array of cheese on the counter, we well as spices and breadcrumbs and pasta. But something seemed...different.
Smalls looked down at her feet, suddenly very interested in the carpet.. “I’m making gluten free baked mac and cheese.”
“Why gluten free?”
“Because,” Smalls glanced behind her briefly before hissing, “because that was the only kind of pasta I could find in my cabinet that's why you feet fucker.”
Race’s toes tingled with happiness. He do it! He could say the trademark Paul Hollywood meme thing!
“Now, when yew make mac and cheese gluten free it tends to get stickey and lose some of its taiste. Ave yew tested this to make sure that wont appen?”
“Y e s,” Smalls rolled her eyes. “I put extra oil in it so the pasta wont get sticky a n d there’s lots of spices for added flavor.” She brought her spatula out from behind her back in a soldiers salute. “I won’t disappoint you, your Highness Mr. Paul Hollywwod Sir.”
“Yew bettah not,” Race laughed as he walked back to his very official looking director’s chair (he didn’t want to know how many people Katherine had had to kill to get this).
“Sue, how much toime is left?”
“TEN MINUTES COOKERS, TEN MINUTES!”
There were varying screams of frustration from around the room as his friends scrambled to get done. The smell of cooking cheese wafted from several ovens and stoves and Race smiled contentedly. Twas almost Mac Time.
•••
Ten minutes later, as promised, Race was standing behind a Very Official looking wooden table with a fork and a glass of water, ready to taste (or spit out, depending on whose it was), his friends’ mac and cheese.
“Oilright, Davey, why don’t yew bring up yewr mac.”
Davey strode up to the table confidently, somehow without a spec of food on his apron, and placed down a plate of gooey looking pasta. Man oh man he was excited! But no, today he was Paul Hollywood. No excitement. Only glares.
He picked up his fork and took a scoop of pasta, glaring at Davey for good measure as he tasted.
He chewed for far longer than actually necessary to give Davey just enough time to get nervous before giving his verdict. “Whot yew’ve actually done is quite noice, Oi rather loike the blend of the cheddar and the goat cheese, but what yew’ve done is create something that’s so soft that its lacking textah. It’s loike Oi need somethin crunchy to offset it.”
Davey nodded. “Okay.”
“But overall noice job.” He nodded, the silent cue for Davey to take his dish and return to his station.
Race surveyed the contestants and grimaced. “Jack bring yew’re flamin bomb up here.”
He thought he heard Jack mutter some half-decent curses under his breath, but not decent enough for him to repeat.
A few seconds later a lump of orange stuff with green (???) blobs on top on a plate was placed in front of him. “Roight,” he sighed. “What ave yew got there?”
“Well this is my baked mac and cheese with green goldfish topping!” Jack said proudly.
Race looked at the plate as if it were a flesh eating disease that could kill him at any second. And, knowing Jack’s track record with food, it just might. “Any reason why you chose green goldfish?”
“Adds a pop of color!” Jack bounced on his toes.
Good gosh. Race took the tiniest bite possible on his fork and lifted it to his mouth-
“Make sure you get a goldfish!” Jack insisted. “Really adds a burst of flavor!”
“Oh sure, sure.” Race picked one up before shoving the whole abomination into his mouth. He chewed for a few seconds before swallowing down as best as he could.
“Wow that is pitiful,” Race coughed. “The pasta is overcooked, and the cheese, yew’ve cooked it too much so that it’s become gummy, and all the moistah has gone into the goldfish and made them soggy.”
“Oh,” Jack sounded deflated.
“Overall the textah is a bit claggy, and no one loikes a claggy bit of cheese.”
“Right, right.” Jack stroked his invisible beard.
“Overall its dreadful and Oi’d loike it if you removed it from my sights, preferably to the bin. Next!”
•••
Almost a half hour later Race was practically done testing all of the mac and cheese, save for Mush’s and Smalls’s. Along with Jack’s trashpile, Spot’s had also been notably horrible, it was somehow burnt and undercooked at the same time? Race didn’t even want to know. Crutchie’s and JoJo’s though had been surprisingly decent, and both were in the running to win.  
“Oilroight Smalls, bring up yewr mac why don’t yew.”
A few moments later a plate of mac and cheese was dumped in front of Race with no class whatsoever. “Here you go Mr. Paul Sir.”
Race stabbed his fork into the pile of noodles. “This was the gluten free baked mac and cheese, roight?” “Yes your highness.”
Race rolled the noodles around on his tongue for a few long moments while his taste buds analyzed the flavor combinations.
“Roight so, I warned yew about this bein tasteless roight?” Smalls quirked up her eyebrow. “It’s tasteless isn’t it.”
“Yes. Get it away from me at once.”
“Of course, your lordship.” Smalls snatched the plate from the table, even curtsying to Race before making her way back to her station, picking up a fork, and digging into her own mac and cheese.
“I don't know what you’re talking about Mister Colonel Hollywood Sir, this tastes great!”
Race bushed imaginary crumbs off of his table. “And Oi’m goin tew pretend Oi didn’t hear that.” He pointed to Mush. “Mush, bring up yewr creation, if yew pleathe.”
“But of course!” Mush placed down his plate of mac and cheese in front of Race, who dug in immediately. “What you have there is parmesan, cheddar, and american cheese with elbow pasta. Enjoy.”
Race let the glorious noodles glide over his tongue as his palate was enveloped in a wonderful cheese flavor. He was amazed. He was astounded. Hell he was even speechless! What did Paul Hollywood do when he was speechless? Oh right!
“Well done Mush,” he stuck out his hand for the famous Paul Hollywood Handshake. “That’s a really great plate you’ve made.”
“Oh, thank you sir!” Mush smiled joyfully as Albert tried to sneak a bite of the mac and cheese. Race swatted his hand away with his other hand.
“In fact, it’s the best that Oi’ve had today, and Oi announce yew as Star Cooker!”
The room erupted into cheers and everyone ran to hug Mush while Race quickly finished his mac and cheese. His plan had worked perfectly. The next time he was out of pasta at three am he knew exactly who to call.
•••
“Hello? Do you need help burying the body?” A tired voice answered the phone.
“Mush, it’s Race. I’m craving mac and cheese and I don't have any pasta. Can you-”
“NO!”
_________
so how bout that huh
anyway sappy boi hours heh i love mikey and im real happy that were friends cause he's the absolute best and i cant wait to meet him next week eeee
feedback is always appreciated hmu to be on the tag list
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charlesjosephwrites · 4 years
Text
An Excerpt From My WIP Morgana City Murders
~1200 Words
I just finished writing the part where I introduce my character Gio, and I thought I’d share a bit of it here since he’s one of my all time favorite characters to write.
Ray stared at the table in front of Bellamy and him, his mouth watering at the sight and smell of the dishes of extravagant food laid out across the hard wood surface. When was the last time he had eaten a proper meal? He wasn’t so sure. The last thing he remembered eating was that bag of potato chips that had been left with someone’s grave (with permission, of course), but that had been several days ago. He was certainly overdue for a decent meal, but he didn’t dare touch any of the food under the heavy gaze of the well-built dwarf glaring at them from the other side of the table.
Chris floated a few feet behind the dwarf, his arms crossed and his face contorted into an exaggeration of the dwarf’s gruff nature. It was an obvious attempt to try to cheer Ray up, but he was far too distracted to pay any attention to him.
“Thank you, Thorgil,” a voice from behind Ray pulled him from his thoughts. “You may go now.”
The dwarf gave a curt nod in reply, and he left without another word.
Ray twisted in his seat to get a look at the source of the voice. A short human-looking male with slicked back black hair approached them, a small hum emanating from the back of his throat as he polished his fingernails on the front of his suit jacket. His piercing blue eyes shifted from Bellamy to Ray and then back again. He rubbed his pale hands together, then offered Bellamy a handshake.
“Good evening, Officer Ogden.” His voice was flat and even, though it was a bit higher pitched than most human males Ray had previously encountered. “I hope my friends didn’t startle you and your elf too much.”
Bellamy stared down at his hand, but she didn’t shake it. “You have got to be kidding me.”
“Hmm.” He frowned and dropped his hand back down to his side. “I’m afraid not.”
“I...” Ray cleared his throat and ran a hand over his face to try to calm himself. “I’m not her elf.”
The short human glanced at Ray, but he didn’t pay him any attention. “Officer, I believe we have business to discuss.”
Bellamy took a deep breath, staring at him in silence for a long moment before she responded. “Look, kid, I don’t⁠ have time for—”
“I” ⁠— he huffed and crossed his arms ⁠— “am not a ‘kid’ by any stretch of the imagination.”
Bellamy quirked an eyebrow at that. “You’re what, eight? Nine?”
“I’m two hundred and seven.” He snarled, exposing a pair of razor sharp incisors. “Not that it’s any of your business, witch.” He took a deep breath, and his posture relaxed ever so slightly. “Perhaps we’ve gotten off on the wrong foot. Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Giovanni di Maurilio. My friends call me Gio.” He gave a sickly sweet smile and offered his hand to Bellamy once again. “And I do hope we’ll be friends.”
Chris gasped. “No way!”
Bellamy’s face paled, and her hand shook as she reached out to accept the handshake this time. “I… I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you were…” Her voice trailed off, and she swallowed the lump in her throat.
Gio leaned in close as he shook her hand, inhaling deeply. He wrinkled his nose as he pulled back, crossing his arms over his chest. “O positive,” he muttered. “How disgusting.”
Ray started to open his mouth to ask what was going on, but he didn’t get out a single syllable before Chris interrupted him.
“Dude!” Chris drifted through the table to get a closer look at Gio. “You’re tiny!”
Gio’s gaze snapped up towards Chris, and he bared his teeth at him. “I would advise you to keep your mouth shut.”
“I’m already dead. What are you gonna do, bite me?”
“Chris.” Ray shot him a warning look. “Please don’t.”
“Dude, I was just saying⁠—”
“Shush.”
Chris huffed and crossed his arms, but he didn’t say anything else.
Gio pursed his lips and turned his gaze on Ray. “You might just be the most intelligent one here, elf.”
“Uh… thanks?” Ray fidgeted with the strings of his hoodie. “I have no idea what’s going on, though.”
“Dude, he’s the mafia boss.”
Ray was pretty sure Chris was trying to be helpful, but his explanation somehow made the situation make even less since. “He’s the what?”
“Y’know, he’s in charge of organized crime stuff.”
“You…” Ray’s frown deepened. “You humans organize your crime?”
“I mean, not usually, but like⁠—”
“What I do is not important right now.” Gio walked around the table to slip into the seat across from Ray and Bellamy. “Eat.” He gestured towards the food laid out on the table. “We have a lot to discuss.”
Ray reached for the nearest food dish, but he froze when he caught a glimpse of some sort of meat chunk among the pasta. “Uh… do you have anything without meat?”
“Oh?” Gio glanced up from where he was currently piling pasta onto his plate. “You’re a vegetarian?”
“Elves can’t digest meat. It makes us sick.”
“Ah.” Gio nodded. “My apologies. I’m not exactly up to date on elven dietary habits, but no matter.” He shifted in his seat to face the door to his left. “Maria!” He clapped his hands. “Come here!”
A tall woman with graying brown hair, whom Ray presumed to be Maria, came scurrying into the room. “Yes?”
“I need you to prepare something without meat for our elven friend here.” Gio’s gaze shifted to Ray. “Do you have any special requests?”
“You got any garlic bread?” Ray asked. “I heard about it a few weeks ago, and now I can’t stop thinking about it.”
“Ah… no.” Gio frowned. “I have a rather unfortunate garlic allergy.”
“Oh,” Ray said “That’s okay. I’m not actually that picky.”
“Psst, dude.” Chris leaned in to whisper to Ray, though his voice was just loud enough to completely defeat the purpose of whispering. “Are you really gonna take food from a vampire?”
“He’s not a…” Ray’s voice trailed off, and he stared at Gio with a gaping mouth. "Oh. That makes more sense.” He may have been tempted to agree with Chris’s judgement if he wasn’t hyper-aware of how empty his stomach was. “But I’m hungry.”
Gio raised an eyebrow at Ray, but he didn’t say anything before he turned his attention to Bellamy. “What about you? You’ve been awfully quiet.”
“I…” Bellamy’s voice caught in her throat, and her gaze briefly dropped down towards the table before locking back onto Gio. “I’m not hungry. Thanks anyways.”
“Suit yourself.” Gio turned his attention back to Maria. “Oh, and get me a drink while you’re at it. B negative, I’m in the mood for something different tonight.”
“B negative,” Maria responded with a small nod. “Got it.” She lingered around the table for a second, but she eventually made her way back out of there just as quickly as she had arrived.
“I suppose while we wait” ⁠— Gio grabbed the neatly folded napkin tucked under his plate to spread across his lap ⁠— “we can get down to business.” He folded his hands together and leaned forward on the table. “I heard that there was a police officer and an elf going around throwing wild accusations at my good friend Vinnie.” His face took on a morbidly serious expression as his gaze shifted back and forth between Ray and Bellamy. “Would either of you care to explain yourself?”
TAGLIST (lemme know if you want to be added or removed): @percvalx, @adaparkwrites, @humour-and-hyperfocus, @magic-is-something-we-create, @redrowan
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sparklyjojos · 4 years
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CARNIVAL recaps [12/13]
Today’s recap: Seiryoin as a blunt weapon, Kirika trying to be relevant to the plot again, and Nemu meeting a ghost.
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TWENTY-THREE
28 Dec 1996 — 03 Jan 1997
TOWER OF PISA
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[There’s a short moment of first person narration here; a random man from Pisa who lost his wife is so done with life that when he’s contacted by the men in black, he agrees to work with RISE during the next Billion Killer case.]
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[Third person narration.]
Amagoi and Meiru have just finished enjoying a few days of the famous Carnival in Venice when Dokuson has them move to Pisa.
As they’re standing near the famous Leaning Tower waiting for 1 PM, Amagoi says that they still need to go back to Japan and figure out where Ryuuguu Otohime went. All they know is that she was spotted by the seashore, witnesses claiming that she rode what looked like a giant turtle into the ocean, which brings to mind Urashima Taro’s way of transportation to the legendary Dragon Palace. It sounds unbelievable, but the Crime Olympics are already so chaotic that maybe fairytales are going to start to come true as well.
During their previous stay in Italy, Meiru and Amagoi have solved a case that involved dead bodies wrapped in pasta, apparently the result of a long conflict between restaurants that involved the mafia. Now they’re pursuing another serial case happening in many Italian cities, the killer always standing on a roof and throwing pizza with a heavy metal ball as a “topping” on people’s heads.
Their conversation is interrupted when a crowd of agitated onlookers gathers nearby. A man looking like a cook is standing on top of the Leaning Tower, holding a pizza in one hand and a metal ball in the other. Meiru recognizes him as Galigali Galilei, a pizzeria owner they met in the pasta case. His name seems fitting, as he then performs a variation of the famous Galileo experiment by dropping the pizza and the ball at the same time, as if to demonstrate they will fall at equal speed. But the moment the ball hits the ground, there’s a much louder noise that can’t mean anything good.
Meiru and Amagoi manage to run away before the tower—which had been magically cut through near the base—falls down with a deafening rumble, rolling through the Square of Miracles until it hits the nearby cathedral. Almost three hundred people die in the event. A Billion Killer skull is found where the Tower once stood.
--
[Second person narration from Dokuson.]
Before Meiru and Amagoi left for Italy, you asked them to investigate Venice and Pisa, where a serial killer case had been going on, and told them they’re free to enjoy the famous Carnival as long as they made absolutely sure to go back to Pisa just in case the next Billion Killer attacks it on 28th. Amagoi perked up when you said that even if nothing would happen there, the trip would mean she could eat as much of her favorite gelato as she wanted at DOLL’s expense.
The cases on December 21st and 28th happened in Egypt and Italy, just like predicted. Everyone is trying to reason out the Billion Killer’s next target—and that S-detective is likely trying to figure out your person, which you wordlessly encourage. You wonder just how much of your mystery they’ll be able to uncover.
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TWENTY-FOUR
04 Jan 1997 — 10 Jan 1997
GRAND CANYON
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[Third person narration.]
Still hospitalized BOKU gets a visit from Kirika Mai. This is their first meeting, since she has spent the last few months in hospital.
Kirika says that Dokuson is recently extremely busy organizing "the First JDC Red and White Reasoning Contest" [this name referring to kouhaku, the annual New Year's Eve singing contest]. It’s going to be a televised event in which a bunch of JDC detectives will participate in two teams (male and female) and try solving many smaller cases of the Crime Olympics. The contest judge will naturally be Dokuson. Aside from showing the criminal world their power, Dokuson also hopes that getting rid of as many cases as possible in one go will lessen the overwhelming barrage of things they have to concern themselves with.
Participants won't be hard to find, as JDC has experienced a flood of new detectives ever since doing away with the entry exam. It seems many people have awakened their detective skills lately; as Dokuson puts it, people by their very nature are detectives battling with the mysteries of life. Ajiro Souji used to say something similar, about how in times like these people continue to live to solve mysteries.
[We get a list of strange new detectives. It's long, but some of my favorites are Paper Plane Detective, Irresponsible Advisor Detective, Hunger Strike Detective, and Going Feral Detective.]
...whether or not these strange reasoning methods are useful in fighting crime, they certainly help shed some light on the mystery known as humanity. BOKU muses that perhaps all the genius thinkers and philosophers of history could be considered great detectives, in a way.
Kirika mentions that some of the new JDC detectives were exposed as secret criminals—Murder Detective, Accident Detective, Thief Detective and so forth—basically "Crime Detectives", who did solve mysteries, but using less than legal methods.
But going back to the reasoning contest, they're still searching for a suitable host (Dokuson wanted to give this role to BOKU, but that's not very possible now). Also, the JDC Band announced they're going to take part in the event as “the Band Detective”.
Putting aside those topics, Kirika finally gets to the point and shares her suspicion: she thinks "the youngest detective in the world", Hanto Kuraimu, is not at all some tiny genius of predictions, and everything has been set up by Dokuson.
Even when Kirika had been hospitalized, she used all her authority to get other detectives to investigate the situation for her, and recently got Dokuson to let her meet with Maimu and Kuraimu. Apparently little Kuraimu is now a “baby detective”, which only Dokuson knows about except them. Maimu insists that when she locks eyes with her daughter, she feels a stream of consciousness not unlike that which she felt making her pregnant predictions. The two are even able to communicate by Maimu asking questions and Kuraimu moving her head to answer “yes” or “no”. Maimu claims they already solved a few cases that way. Kirika wanted to try asking the baby questions herself, but was told Kuraimu wouldn’t show her abilities in front of anyone except her mother.
Dokuson insists that the “baby detective” is real, and that the simplest way to prove it would be to wait and see if the predictions she makes about the Billion Killer cases are correct. At the time Kirika and Dokuson talked about it, the latest two predictions already came true—the Great Pyramid and the Tower of Pisa—with the next going to concern the Grand Canyon.
Kirika still thinks that it’s Dokuson who somehow predicts the cases and uses an ordinary child as a smokescreen, maybe even making exhausted Maimu believe in her baby’s powers.
Kirika is trying to investigate Dokuson, who seems more and more suspicious to her—from the unfavorable impression Hyouma has about him, through the very timely appearance after the JDC explosion, to the insistence that Tsukumo Juku be kept away from the organization based on a fax from “Tsukumo Jaki”, who might not even be real. Kirika suspects that Dokuson is secretly a member of RISE and doesn’t as much predict the Billion Killer cases, as simply knows their schedule.
--
[Second person narration from a random person.]
Let’s think about reading. Whenever someone loses themselves in a book, all the personal details of their life cease to exist; there is only you, “the reader”, a part of the collective also lost in the same book; and right now, the two popular books that connect you and others—be they detectives, criminals, random passersby—are Cosmic and Joker.
Ever since Joker was released, there have been constant incidents of someone tying the two books together with string and using the cumulative weight of about a thousand five hundred pages as a murder weapon, later discarding the bloody books near the body. The group responsible for these nationwide murders has been dubbed Cosmic Jokers, CJ for short. The only link found between the victims is that they all had their own copies of Cosmic and Joker in their rooms. To prevent further tragedy, both titles were quickly pulled from stores.
You, who happen to have them both on your shelf, can’t help but want to solve the mystery. According to experts on TV, CJ might be connected to RISE—is there something in the books they don’t want people to learn?
You continue to read and reason, and each night another yous are murdered, and other innocent yous continue to read…
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[We then have a brief first person narration from a random person visiting the Grand Canyon, who witnesses the most extraordinary event from a plane. The Thunderbird Lodge, a hotel built on the Canyon’s edge, suddenly raises like a rocket, flies through the air in an arc, and plummets roof-first into the abyss, taking eight hundred people with it. A Billion Killer skull is later found where the hotel stood.]
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TWENTY-FIVE
11 Jan 1997 — 17 Jan 1997
NEUSCHWANSTEIN
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[First person narration from Nemu.]
It’s been five months since the beginning of the Crime Olympics The estimated death toll so far is six hundred million. The location of would-be Denver G8 Summit was moved to Athens, scheduled to take place on January 17th. Whether a simple meeting will actually help curb the overwhelming crime is doubtful, but the eyes of the world will be on them.
I arrive in Greece around the time of the Summit. One reason for my journey is that Dokuson asked me to investigate the whereabouts of the missing S-detective Lemuria Sullivan; another reason is that I want to visit a place connected to my brother Juku.
I haven’t had contact with Juku ever since our visit to Ryuuguujou in November. No one besides Dokuson is allowed to call him, for everyone’s safety. Even I don’t know what Juku is doing right now.
A lot of things have happened in those two months. Jounosuke died, Otohime disappeared, Jouka was murdered. Not a day passed without deep sadness and darkness. The good old times of having fun with friends were lost. If I were to lose my brother too…
It was painful to look at his smile when we separated back then, when he assured me that “I’ll be fine, Miss Nemu”, even though he’s being targeted by this mysterious Tsukumo Jaki. I know that he’s a strong person… but the thought of him facing all that darkness feels so tragic and miserable.
Since I grew up next to someone like him who always treated all others with love, some of his kindness was naturally passed to me, but I will never be quite like him and Yomiko, who would always love everyone and be ready to forgive the worst criminal. I know how tremendous human kindness can be—and that’s exactly why I always wish deep in my heart that no foolish hurting of others could occur ever again.
Back in Ryuuguujou, Juku told me that if I ever happened to lose my way, I should head to Delphi in Greece, the place where his unique reasoning method Jintsuuriki had been perfected. Jintsuuriki had already awakened in him at the time of the Saimon Family Murder Case, but the true understanding of it came later, thanks to “the oracle of Delphi”. I doubt that I could attain similar enlightenment, but seeing as I’m already in Greece, it won’t hurt to check. Juku must have had a reason to tell me to go there... and I have a vague feeling that it’s inevitable.
The S-detective who was expelled from DOLL, Lemuria Sullivan, was last seen in Meteora three years ago. The name Meteora just like meteor comes from the Greek word for something “in the air”, a fitting name for a formation of towering rock columns. Lemuria Sullivan spent a week in one of the temples built there, the Monastery of the Holy Trinity, and disappeared afterwards.
After a short stay in Meteora, I move to Delphi, the place considered by ancient Greeks to be the center of the world. I tour around the place, but it doesn’t feel any different than normal sightseeing. Unexpectedly, a person working in a hotel in Delphi recognizes Lemuria Sullivan from a picture I show them and gives me more information.
Rumor has it that the ghost of Pythia the oracle has been appearing at night in the ruined Temple of Apollo. Three years ago, Lemuria Sullivan went there to verify the tale and never returned.
So Lemuria Sullivan was actually last seen in Delphi... Faced with that suspiciously useful coincidence, I get a strange thought: did Dokuson and Juku already know everything and purposefully manipulate me into going here? I get a vague feeling that there has to be a connection between both of them and Lemuria Sullivan. Whatever it is, I will need to investigate Sullivan’s disappearance first.
I go to the Temple of Apollo in the middle of the night. The darkness makes me remember the title Lemuria Sullivan had in DOLL, Knight in Night, quite a contrast with the temple of the god of the Sun. His less pompous nickname was Herr Omega. The Greek letter in his nickname seems fitting, considering where he went missing.
Strolling through the dark ruins, I can almost imagine my old coworker Ajiro Souya walking around to boost his reasoning skills. It’s been a few years since his death. Back then, I was too immature to realize just what my feelings for him were, but losing him still had a significant impact on me, made me realize my responsibility as a detective, and strengthened the will to keep moving forward. I know it had a similar effect on Joya [Christmas]—speaking of whom, he recently walked into a Billion Killer case in Egypt, in what looks like a coincidence, but feels like an inevitability. The same can be said about Amagoi just happening to be in Pisa. Maybe it was inevitable that when I went to Machu Picchu a few months ago, I would tell the local president about Jounosuke, and the president would later call him there to investigate, which would lead to Jounosuke’s death…
The sheer thought that a world of incidental events could actually be an organized set of inevitabilities is frightening.
My meeting with the ghost of Pythia is probably inevitable too.
--
[Second person narration from ???]
From the moment you became Pythia, you were always Pythia and no one else, all throughout the past, the present, the future. Many women have been chosen to be you, but they all lost their individuality in the process, becoming the single being of you; not a group of people, but the undying Pythia. If you die, another you takes your place. Those who don’t know everything like you do wouldn’t understand how you existed before the Temple was built and after its destruction. They might see you as a ghost.
Wearing a hooded coat over your current body of an old woman, you wait in the stormy night until the guest approaches: a young woman with an umbrella, her expression bearing no surprise, just certainty.
“You came… Tsukumo, Nemu,” you speak in raspy, breaking voice, and Nemu does show surprise this time. Not because you know her name, but because she can understand what you’re saying. “That is because, my words, are transmitted, directly to your head.”
“But it looks like you’re speaking.”
“All senses, are illusions.”
“Who are you?”
“A priestess, receiving prophecies, from Apollo.”
“Is this how you knew my name?”
“I know your past, your future, everything. You came here, to find Lemuria Sullivan.”
“If you know my past, then you must know about my brother as well?”
“I met, Tsukumo, Juku, years ago.”
“Do you know where Juku or Lemuria Sullivan are now?”
“I know. I will not tell you, but there is, a way for you to learn. In two weeks, be in Germany, when the Billion Killer strikes.”
“Germany is a huge country. I’m not an oracle like you, I can’t predict where exactly the case will happen.”
“There are, three kinds, of those, who can guess the future. Do you, understand?”
“Three kinds… one are people whose predictions come true by pure chance, two are those who secretly make the predicted event happen… and…?”
“Real oracles. Those with, real powers. I am blessed with, the prophecies, of the true oracle.” As Nemu gives you a doubtful look, you add, “If you, don’t understand, I will tell you. The Billion Killer case, will happen at, Neuschwanstein Castle.”
“...if I go there, will I learn about Lemuria Sullivan and my brother?”
You nod, then point to the sky. Tsukumo Nemu looks there, and once her sight returns to the ground, she finds you already gone.
--
[Third person narration.]
King Ludwig II of Bavaria was known for many things, among them the amount of money he spent on castles, his love for Wagner, and being considered mad. Perhaps his most famous commission was the castle Neuschwanstein. This name literally means “New Swan Stone” and refers to the legendary Knight of the Swan, the titular hero of Wagner’s opera Lohengrin.
Nemu remembers that a few years ago, during the Geneijo Murder Case, she talked with one of the writers involved—Nijikawa Ryou—about his stay in Germany, and he said that she should definitely visit Neuschwanstein if she’s ever around. Looking through Joker, Nemu finds a description of Geneijo that compares it to the Nymphenburg Palace, where Ludwig II was born. However, Nemu knows well that the real Geneijo doesn’t look all that similar to Nymphenburg. It’s like whoever wrote Joker deliberately got the description wrong just so they could put the name of Ludwig II in there as a hint.
Looking at the splendid Neuschwanstein, Nemu thinks that maybe the king’s obsession with castles made him not a madman, but a misunderstood artist who dedicated his entire life to ideals. Perhaps the Billion Killer was also someone who could be defined that way (though of course Nemu wasn’t able to sympathize with the way he created his masterpieces).
When Nemu called Dokuson about her trip to Germany, he sounded almost like he had been expecting this turn of events, which made her even more suspicious. This suspicion also means she’s starting to get mixed feelings about her own brother—not quite distrust, but the impression that Juku knows something important he’s not telling her.
--
On 1 PM local time, a man wearing a suit of armor with white wings—the Swan Knight of legends—appears from the upper levels of Neuschwanstein and flies down to the ground as if suspended from the sky on invisible wires, his arms outstretched to the sides so his body makes the shape of a cross. The knight lands in the middle of a curious crowd of tourists, retrieves the sword at his side and starts massacring everyone around. Finally a large group of security guards and stronger tourists piles on him and pins him to the ground,  but the knight  magically disappears from underneath them leaving behind a skull of the Billion Killer.
Nemu observes the entire scene from afar. She gets a glimpse of the knight’s eyes once, and has a weird feeling that they’re the same as the eyes of Ludwig II in his portraits.
A witness tells her that about an hour before the bloody incident, they saw an old woman carrying the Billion Killer skull through the nearby Queen Mary’s Bridge.
And when Nemu heads there and looks down at the flowing water under the bridge, a tumbling huge peach comes floating...
--
[>>>NEXT PART>>>]
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thebiasrekkers · 5 years
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Make It Right [BTS Mafia!AU]
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Pairings: Jin x OC | Taehyung/Hoseok x OC | Yoongi/Jungkook x OC Genre: BTS Mafia!AU Warnings: Graphic Violence, Heavy Language, Angst, Smut, Slow Burn
“It’s always darkest before the dawn…” It’s a dog-eat-dog world in Seoul, South Korea. One has to dwell in the shadows in order to reach for the light. What are you willing to sacrifice in order to feel the sunlight on your face? What will it take to drag you back into darkness? How long will the journey be to make it right?
AO3 | WP
Chapter 05: Boyz With Fun
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"The fun boys go until the dawn moon sets, This is so fun, all fakeness has gone home."
Seoul - Cheongdam; Gangnam District South Korea
Taehyung leaned against the side of the building, the stick of his lollipop poking out from between his lips. After all these years, he still possessed an almost insatiable sweet tooth. It was one of the few things in life that he just couldn’t seem to give up and could also maintain his interest. As much of a flirt that he was, women came and went from his bed. Or he from theirs. The rough and tumble life they led in the earlier days of their beginnings had seemingly lost its attraction. But sweets? Well, those just never got old.
However, there were some people that could keep his attention. It was a feat, yes, but not impossible. One such individual worked in the very building he was leaning against. In fact, he’d been shadowing them for the better part of a few months. They were stubborn and liked to appear that they weren’t interested or even a bit curious as to why he was shadowing them. But that was fine. Taehyung didn’t mind.
It made the chase all the more delicious.
As he spied the time on his watch, he knew that this person was going to be clocking out soon. Their routine in this place was like clockwork; predictable and consistent. There were times when a wrench got thrown in, ultimately ruining the schedule, but those moments were rare. Unable to hide the growing excitement on his face, he pushed himself off the concrete surface and made his way through the automatic sliding doors of the hospital.
Not even a handful of steps into the lobby, he saw the person he was looking for. Or, rather, waiting for. She was dressed in her scrubs – a soft, periwinkle blue – clutching her bag while her coat draped over one of her arms. Tall with brown skin and curling dark hair, her glasses were situated on her face in a way that made her seem almost adorable. She was talking with one of her co-workers, probably about the patients they had for the day and what their plans were for the coming weekend. Would they trade off shifts? God, he hoped not.
She let out a laugh and Taehyung crunched into the hard candy, chewing methodically as he shoved his hands into the pockets of his slacks. He was mentally counting down how long it would take for her to notice him.
Three…two…one…bingo!
When the countdown finished in his head, she looked up and their eyes met. Her smile fell a fraction and she slowed her pace down a measure. Her co-worker seemed confused by the action until the other nurse caught sight of Taehyung. She gave a small wave and he returned the gesture just as she smirked playfully toward the woman whom he couldn’t take his eyes from. The other woman gently nudged her and told her she would see her tomorrow. Taehyung closed the distance between them, standing just a foot in front of her.
“Hey there, Gorgeous,” he said, the candy’s stick clamped between his teeth as he flashed her his trademark boxy smile, “long day?”
The woman, Raelyn Briggs, rolled her eyes as she side-stepped him so she could walk around him. “What is it now?” She asked him the question, but continued walking – as if she really didn’t care one way or the other if he answered or not.
Pivoting on his heels, he jogged up beside her while spitting the stick into the garbage. “Was it a bad day?”
“It was fine until you showed up.”
She refused to look at him, but this didn’t stop him from smiling or from being persistent.
“Aw, c’mon. That’s not a nice thing to say.” He dramatically placed a hand on his chest, palm resting over the spot where his heart was beating steadily beneath. “I need you to give me a check-up.”
Raelyn scoffed. “Then schedule an appointment.”
Taehyung clicked his tongue against the back of his teeth. “Don’t be like that, Rae Noona.”
"Like what?”
He pouted. “You’re such a meanie.”
“And you’re a menace.”
He tried to maintain his pouty expression, but he soon dissolved into a small fit of laughter. He didn’t know why but annoying her was so fun. Maybe it was because she made it so easy or because she didn’t immediately tell him to go fly a kite in downtown traffic. He couldn’t help his curiosity when it came to Raelyn.
She wasn’t the first transplant to come to South Korea. In this day and age, it was pretty common for foreigners to immigrate to other countries for work. There were all kinds of programs for teaching as well as through vocational or technical skills. Trade skills existed all over the world and like Koreans often went to other countries to learn, the same could be said for others wanting to expand their knowledge in a variety of fields.
From what he was able to glean, Raelyn was one such individual. Even though he’d known her for the better part of three years, she’d lived in South Korea for four. The more scandalous side of it all was that Raelyn used to date Hoseok. Things ended on her terms, though the reason for it was a bit hazy. At least what he was able to learn from the other Hyungs. No one really wanted to talk about it and so Taehyung didn’t pry.
He couldn’t remember why, exactly, the topic had been broached, but he did recall that Hoseok said he was over the relationship. That things ended for the best. Not that Taehyung was in the business of taking someone’s second serving of a dish, but if she was a girl interesting enough to turn Hoseok’s head then he had to know what she was all about.
Imagine his surprise when he discovered that she was a nurse, darker skinned and a foreigner.
Taehyung ran a few paces in front of Raelyn and stopped, forcing her to come to a halt. She had a clear look of irritation painted over her face, but this made his smile widen. He knew that she was just taking off from work and probably wanted to have nothing to do with him, yet he just wasn’t selfless enough to leave her alone. Maybe she was playing hard to get. Who knew? But she kept his interest and that made him even more determined to get her to give him a chance.
“Look, Noona,” he said, brushing his fingers through his silvery blue and black hair, “I know you’ve probably had a long day and that’s why I wanna take you out. Nothing fancy or uncomfortable, I promise.” He held his hands up in a show of playful surrender. “Just dinner and a drink. You think you’d be up for something like that?”
Raelyn gave him the once over, canting her head slightly in a way that made the lens of her glasses shine off from the many streetlights along the corner. There really wasn’t a reason for her to accept his offer. Then again, there really wasn’t a reason for her to decline it either. It was a win-win situation for both. He had a few days of down time before Jimin and he would have to hit the streets again to collect on some things. Normally Taehyung made an effort to get ahead of the game, but he wasn’t sure when he’d be able to get a chance to really get to know Raelyn for who she was. Not just the professional nurse mask she wore, but the real face that hid behind it.
After a few more grueling minutes of silence, Raelyn sighed slowly and Taehyung had to contain his excitement. He knew that he’d won. As he was mentally giving himself a pat on the back, he watched Raelyn setting her purse down on the ground so she could slip into her coat. Taehyung moved so that he was behind her, helping her arms slide into the sleeves. He leaned down and picked up her purse and she set it on her shoulder.
With a wide gesture of her arm, she cocked her head to the side. “After you.”
Taehyung grinned, holding out his arm for her and she shook her head while rolling her eyes. He gently elbowed her persistently and when her arm finally slid through his, he beamed proudly. For whatever reason, he felt like he was suddenly on top of the world.
Like he promised, they walked and talked amicably. It was no secret what circles he ran with and there was no sense hiding it from her. It wasn’t like she was ignorant to his world. He was curious about her day-to-day activities and quickly ascertained that he admired her drive to help people. But she wasn’t above taking care of herself. Self-care was important. People tend to forget that.
He most certainly did not .
It didn’t take them long to arrive to their destination. It was a quiet café with a nice atmosphere that also served modest entrees. He remembered her saying once that after a long shift, the last thing she wanted to do was gorge on food and pass out. It normally gave her indigestion in the morning and she wasn’t about that life. Taehyung could eat enough for three people, but that was just his metabolism and active lifestyle talking.
She ordered a deli sandwich, soup and coffee while he ordered a plate of pasta with tea. Their conversation continued on the tamer side and he ignored the looks that a few patrons gave them. He knew that he was good looking and there were people who also knew that he was part of the underground circuit. He didn’t care for their judgmental eyes or thoughts, keeping his attention on Raelyn as she ate politely while indulging him in conversation. Also politely.
Then the anvil fell.
“So,” she said, raising the mug up to her lips, “do you think it’s a good idea to be gettin’ fresh with your boss’s ex-girl?”
Taehyung was in mid-sip of his tea when he inhaled suddenly, racked with a coughing fit that he thought would never end. People were looking at him for a different reason now. He stared at her, unblinking, wondering just where the hell that even came from.
In fact, he was going to ask.
“Where the hell did that come from?”
She scoffed, sipping from the mug and then setting it down. “Oh come on , Taehyung- ssi ,” she said, putting extra emphasis to the polite way of addressing him, “I don’t know what game you’re playing but I know that you’ve been poking around me because you want to know something, don’t you?” Raelyn pushed her glasses up along the bridge of her nose. “‘What could my boss, Jung Hoseok, possibly have seen in a woman like this?’ That’s what you’re thinking, isn’t it?”
His mouth opened to protest, but he soon closed it when he realized that she wasn’t completely wrong.
But she wasn’t completely right, either.
However, instead of answering, all he could do was remain silent – his lips pressing together in a thin line.
Raelyn chuckled because she knew she’d gotten the upper hand. It wasn’t in his nature to not throw something back at her in rebuttal. But he knew he couldn’t regain the advantage. Not in this conversation.
“I’m pretty sure you already know that I was the one to end things. You’re wondering why that is, aren’t you? Why a woman like me would walk away from the benefits and opportunities that come with being the boss’s girlfriend?”
His eyes narrowed slightly. Anger flared behind his eyes, but he couldn’t pinpoint just what he was angry for . If it was because he’d been outsmarted, or if it was because Raelyn was taking Hoseok lightly.
No , he thought, his grip tightening around his cup of tea, she knows exactly what he is capable of.
“I’ll tell you why, Taehyung-ssi, so that you’ll finally get an idea of who I am and maybe, just maybe, you’ll leave well enough alone.” Raelyn finished up her coffee and began digging through her purse. She pulled out a black and silver clutch, removing a few bills from within. “As glamorous as your world is in movies and in books, it’s ugly on the inside. Turf wars were happening constantly and, if I’m not mistaken, they still are. Hoseok was good to me. In fact, he was great. But that charm and goodness wasn’t enough to keep me away from the one thing I treasure most in this world.”
She paused and Taehyung let out a breath he hadn’t even realized he’d been holding. Once again, their eyes met and the deep purple glint that shined behind her glasses caused his lips to part slightly.
“My freedom.”
Raelyn stood up from her chair, laying the bills on the table. Taehyung jumped from his seat, almost knocking the chair over.
“Rae Noona, wait—”
“You’re cute, Taehyung-ssi.” She smiled at him; a genuine one. The same smile he’d seen her giving to her co-workers after they clocked out for the evening, time and time again. “But not cute enough to give up my freedom for.”
Without another word, Raelyn left him in the café alone. There was nothing he could say that would stop her in her tracks. In fact, everything she’d just said stunned him. After a while, he slowly sank back into his chair – staring at the seat she’d once occupied.
And then a slow smile crept over his face.
This just got a lot more interesting, Raelyn Noona…
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