Ok. So, this fanfic is not mine. It's a fic I found a few years ago (like five or four years ago) in Quizilla® -I mean, back when Quizilla was quizilla.com and not .teenick.com-. It was written by user AuroraMist, who took it down, and I don't know why.
She wrote a lot of amazing fan fictions; she's a hell of a writer. But this is definitely my favourite from her, and it is for sure the best My Chemical Romance fan fiction I've ever read. And I've read quite a few. So, I thought I'd share it -again- with the World. Cuz it's awesome, and it deserves to be read.
The next morning, I trudged slowly and grumpily behind Bert who was happily walking through the park and pretending to ignore my unhappy mood. I glared at the back of his head; what right did he have to be so happy? Just look at him, he's skipping. Why is he doing that? He shouldn't be, it's four thirty in the morning and, as was usual since he'd first come to stay, we should be sitting in the kitchen eating dessert for breakfast. But no, here we are. In a park. Together... Not all over each other for once.
"Bert, what're we doing here?" I paused to let him answer but he didn't. "Answer me, you purple telitubbie eating giraffe-looking monster!"
He turned towards me and exaggeratedly gasped while bringing a hand to his chest. He hissed, "How dare you! I would never!" He pushed me forward as I had caught up and commanded, "Now, walk faster girl!"
"But where are we going?" I asked, exasperated.
"Stop!" he bellowed without warning and I walking straight, bam, whack, into his back. "We have arrived."
I followed his gaze and raised my eyebrows. "You dragged me out of my warm apartment in the middle of the night so that we could arrive at a barbeque? How many times have you been dropped on your head?"
"Okay, first: It isn't the middle of the night, it is almost five."
I stared at him. So?
"And second: it wasn't technically your apartment; it's Frank's and Mikey's. Lastly: I didn't drag you out of your friend's apartment at five in the morning so we could arrive at this barbecue."
"Well then what are we doing here for?"
He pulled something carefully out of his pocket. "To see if you were right."
I stared at the emu egg he was carefully holding in both hands. "I'm going back home-"
"Wait, wait, wait!" He protested, grabbing my hand and stopping me when I turned to leave. "Don't leave."
He looked down, almost shyly, at his feet. "I thought this would be a nice date..."
I brought a hand up to my mouth and tried not to laugh. He saw the way my face had gone red from suppressing my giggles and his face fell. Angrily, he said, "Fine, it was a bad idea. Let's just leave then."
I grabbed his shoulder and hugged him. "No, it's not that. It's just you're so cute."
He looked to be happy after that. "Well, I try." He pulled himself away and carefully put the egg down on the side of the barbeque's hot plates. Then he got out a spatula from the other pocket of his shorts. I stared.
"Thank God you were just wearing those for storage, I thought you were trying to give the cargoes a come-back."
He smiled but didn't reply. As he started to cook the egg, after cracking it on the edge of the barbeque, I hung back and asked what I could do to help. He quickly pulled out a plate from the inside pocket of his bulky jacket and handed it to me, "Just hold this until the egg is ready," Bert answered, attention still on his cooking.
I held the plate with one hand and, staring at his jacket, prodded his chest. "What else have you got stashed away in there?"
He giggled and jerked away while swatting the cooking utensil at me. "Don't, it tickles!"
I grinned and set the plate down on the grass so I could step closer and start to skillfully attack his ribs with my expert fingers. He writhed and giggled. "Aw, ish ickle Bertums ticklish? Ish he?"
"Carrie, please, stop!" Bert squealed, pushing against my abdomen to try and put a pause in the process but he just ended up doubling over in another wave of laughter.
I held his hands together with one of mine and continued tickling him with the other as he leant against the brick of the barbeque as supportive, face all flushed and gasping through his giggles fro air. Bert tried to make me unpin his arms but I held on.
"I knew it!" He gasped. "You're going to rape me, aren't you?" I didn't answer, only grunted, as I kept on with my onslaught. "Well, Mr. Sexy Rapist-Man, I think you should know that, while I may be a good little Catholic school-girl, I tend to moan like a whore."
"You're a git," I informed him, clapping a hand over his mouth. Unfortunately, he took the opportunity to have control soon after and I was just as ticklish as he was. When, a few minutes later, we were both worn out, Bert disentangled himself from my limbs and leapt up.
"No!" He whined as he threw the overly-fried egg onto the plate with his spatula. "It's ruined!" I rolled my eyes but rubbed his back as he pretended to sob. "Ruined, I tell you! All burnt and crispy and why the hell is it purple, black and orange - Ack! This is just horrible!"
"It can't be that bad," I tried to be soothing though he was shielding my view of it protectively with his back.
"I guess you're right," he said reluctantly. Then he turned around and shoved the plate, with the burnt emu placenta on it, under my nose proudly. "EAT IT!"
I started to grin but then I realized mortified, that he was completely serious. "B-Bert, I can't-"
"Yes you can!" He interrupted, beaming as if he'd found the cure for AIDS. "Take it and enjoy. With love, from me."
I cringed. "Um, I'd love to but ... but..." I tried to think. "But you made it! So you should get to eat it!"
"Oh ... well, it is very burnt, maybe I shouldn't. But if you'd like to-"
"No!" I almost shouted and then giggled nervously. "I mean, no, it's okay. Maybe we could feed some starving seagulls instead."
He narrowed his eyes but then he skipped off with the egg to find some poor bird. It turned none of the animals in the park wanted to eat an emu's unborn baby's life-force-in-the-womb. So we stored all the items he'd brought with us back in Bert's clothing and started to walk back. By this time, it was ten past seven and most little cafes and restaurants were just opening. Bert turned to me, squeezing my hand which he'd been holding onto for a while.
"Would you like some breakfast?"
I nodded so we walked into the nearest small restaurant. I grinned when Bert looked over the breakfast menu with disgust. Our waitress,Sandy
He held up a finger as if to say 'wait!' and continued to scan all the options. Abruptly, he asked loudly, "Why are there so many eggy meals? It's murder!"
I leant over the table and told him quietly, "It can't be murder, only the un-fertilized eggs can be used for us to eat."
"Oh." He scrunched up his nose after some consideration, "Still placenta."
Sandy
Bert looked like he was going to snap back at her but he held himself back and calmly closed the menu before delicately placing it face-down on the table and sniffing. Folding his arms neatly and looking at her innocently, he gave his order. "I will have a croissant with just a dollop of cream cheese - and no more than a dollop. On top of that, I would like ten grams of grated cheese. No, ten grams of melted cheese. And on top of that, thinly sliced tomato." He paused to quickly peer at a page of the menu again.
"And a cappuccino please."
"Any requests for the cappuccino, sir?" She asked him sarcastically but he did.
"I've never tried icing sugar in coffee before so two spoons of that. Extra cream... And grated cooking chocolate - none of that Cadbury crap. That'll be all, you may now have the pleasure of asking my girl."
Sandy
"Just a blueberry muffin please,Sandy
She smiled back as Bert watched on amused. "I'll be right back."
When she was gone, I stared incredulously at Bert. "Extra cream, icing sugar, chocolate - do you want a heart attack?!"
He giggled. "Don't be a silly duck, I'm not going to drink it. She is simply making me a coffee for no good reason apart to see me happy at her frustration."
I sighed and shook my head though I should be used to this sort of behavior. "You're impossible."
"Well I'm getting all the mean-ness out of my system for tonight."
I gave him my best confused look. It was genuine too. "Why, what's happening tonight, Bert?"
"Your parents' ball, of course."
"Yes," I said slowly, still confused, "and what does that have to do with you?"
"Oh! So you think I'm just going to let my girlfriend run off with her fiancée from me for almost two days?"
"Bert-"
"I want to meet your parents."
"Bert-"
He pouted. "You're going to say 'no' aren't you?"
"Yes."
"Yes I can go or yes I was right about you saying no?"
"You can't come with Frank and I." I confirmed. "Sorry but Mom wouldn't understand if I bring you too and there's no way she can know about us."
"Carrie, are you ashamed of me?"
"Of course I'm not but this is an inconvenience! I've gotten engaged so I can't let my Mom and Dad know about my relationship with you."
"I'm an inconvenience?"
"No! Us shagging is an inconvenience to the situation that happened before you came along." When he still looked upset, I sighed. "Okay Bertums. If Frank doesn't mind you can come."
He nodded, satisfied, stood up grabbing my hand and dragging me out despite my protests that I wanted breakfast. He just told me that he needed to ask Frank now. So I went with him without anymore arguments, though shaking my head at him.
"Frank! I need to ask you something im-port-ant!" Bert sang happily as he opened the apartment door with a bang and stepped in, beaming full-wattage. I followed, extremely curious of what Frank's answer would be. "Frank-"
But Bert was cut off as we entered the living space, by Gerard yelping, who was sitting next to Frank as they read something Gerard held. I got a feeling of deja-vu as I asked what it was they were reading. Frank's mouth set in a grim line as he closed it and handed it over to me. "Look."
I raised an eyebrow and took the just released issue of Kerrang! from him. My eyes scanned the front cover which, this month, featured Joel Madden and his ... lovechild posing together. Featured on the front were also an interview with Rammstein, a photo shoot with Ville Valo, an overview of an apparently big music festival inEngland
"Not that," Frank hissed. "Look on page ..." He trailed off and looked like he was trying to remember a very difficult number.
"Eight," Gerard finished for him, before getting up from the couch and wandering off, probably for the toilet, "Page eight."
I nodded at his retreating back before quickly flicking, flicking to the right spot. A medium sized photo of Frank and I exiting the emergency room and then, under that one, one of Bert and I walking back from the bookstore one day were what greeted me. My mouth opened slightly as I read the title of the relatively small article and Bert looked too, over my shoulder.
'Is Frank Iero's fiancée just another gold-digging groupie?' read the header.
When I'd finished reading it over, twice, I threw it down and ran my fingers through my hair. They'd printed that their 'source' told them about Frank's and my engagement so they'd been following us. 'Soon after' we 'became a couple' Frank 'sobbingly left' me at the airport and I already had my 'sights set on equally popular Bert McCracken'. Gah, they knew nothing!
"Well that's awkward," Bert observed from behind me, biting loudly into an apple. I winced at the sound of his teeth hitting the flesh of the fruit. He's a loud eater.
Frank shot him a glare. "Carrie, do you think your parents would read this?"
I snorted. "My mom and dad reading Kerrang!? No ... But no doubt one of thousands of people they know will read it and will tell them.... Oh shit, bugger, wank dick, fuck it!"
Bert kissed the side of my head. "It'll be okay."
I bit on my tongue to stop myself from yelling at him that it wouldn't be okay and gave a fake smile. "Are you going to ask Frank…"
"What? Oh .. oh yes!" He turned to Frank, who was looking at us both from the couch with extreme disinterest. "Ah ... heh," he tried to smile appealingly and innocently but all Frank did in return was sit back and raise an eyebrow. "Don't hurt me but can I come ... can-I-come-with-you-and-Carrie-to-Carrie’s-parents’-house? Please, please, please? Carrie won't let me come unless you agree so please say yes!"
"So you've asked Carrie?" Bert nodded so he said, "And she said yes?"
"No, you have to first."
Frank shook his head and opened his mouth to answer just as Gerard, who was walking through to the kitchen, stopped to listen. "Um, I don't think-" Frank stopped when Gerard gave him a look I'd become familiar with, as lately he'd quite often been giving it to either Frank or Bert, and sighed, "Yeah sure. You can come Bert."
Bert kissed him loudly and quickly on the lips before yelling, "Thank you!" as Gerard walked on, satisfied.
"Okay, now go shave," I told him, trying to shove him into the bathroom.
"But I did just the other day!" He protested.
"Yeah, I know, but it's growing back and it's not a good look." I ignored his indignation. "So go shave and we can go do what we didn't do last night-"
"It's not my fault I was tired!"
"I know. So shave and you can bang me, yes?"
His immediate response was to press against me but then he said, pulling away and his eyes darting to our friend on the couch, "Ehm no ... I can't right now. I have ... something .. there's this thing - yes, I have a thing." He kissed my forehead. "I have to go."
I stood, stunned, and watched him walk out of the apartment (did he just decline sex?). Gerard stuck his head in the room to tell us he'd be going with him too. Frank stood up and appeared in front of me. Good fuck, he's good looking ... Bad girl, Carrie.
"So do you want to spend some quality time with me instead ... packing your stuff?" He asked and I smiled.
25
The next morning, I trudged slowly and grumpily behind Bert who was happily walking through the park and pretending to ignore my unhappy mood. I glared at the back of his head; what right did he have to be so happy? Just look at him, he's skipping. Why is he doing that? He shouldn't be, it's four thirty in the morning and, as was usual since he'd first come to stay, we should be sitting in the kitchen eating dessert for breakfast. But no, here we are. In a park. Together... Not all over each other for once.
"Bert, what're we doing here?" I paused to let him answer but he didn't. "Answer me, you purple telitubbie eating giraffe-looking monster!"
He turned towards me and exaggeratedly gasped while bringing a hand to his chest. He hissed, "How dare you! I would never!" He pushed me forward as I had caught up and commanded, "Now, walk faster girl!"
"But where are we going?" I asked, exasperated.
"Stop!" he bellowed without warning and I walking straight, bam, whack, into his back. "We have arrived."
I followed his gaze and raised my eyebrows. "You dragged me out of my warm apartment in the middle of the night so that we could arrive at a barbeque? How many times have you been dropped on your head?"
"Okay, first: It isn't the middle of the night, it is almost five."
I stared at him. So?
"And second: it wasn't technically your apartment; it's Frank's and Mikey's. Lastly: I didn't drag you out of your friend's apartment at five in the morning so we could arrive at this barbecue."
"Well then what are we doing here for?"
He pulled something carefully out of his pocket. "To see if you were right."
I stared at the emu egg he was carefully holding in both hands. "I'm going back home-"
"Wait, wait, wait!" He protested, grabbing my hand and stopping me when I turned to leave. "Don't leave."
He looked down, almost shyly, at his feet. "I thought this would be a nice date..."
I brought a hand up to my mouth and tried not to laugh. He saw the way my face had gone red from suppressing my giggles and his face fell. Angrily, he said, "Fine, it was a bad idea. Let's just leave then."
I grabbed his shoulder and hugged him. "No, it's not that. It's just you're so cute."
He looked to be happy after that. "Well, I try." He pulled himself away and carefully put the egg down on the side of the barbeque's hot plates. Then he got out a spatula from the other pocket of his shorts. I stared.
"Thank God you were just wearing those for storage, I thought you were trying to give the cargoes a come-back."
He smiled but didn't reply. As he started to cook the egg, after cracking it on the edge of the barbeque, I hung back and asked what I could do to help. He quickly pulled out a plate from the inside pocket of his bulky jacket and handed it to me, "Just hold this until the egg is ready," Bert answered, attention still on his cooking.
I held the plate with one hand and, staring at his jacket, prodded his chest. "What else have you got stashed away in there?"
He giggled and jerked away while swatting the cooking utensil at me. "Don't, it tickles!"
I grinned and set the plate down on the grass so I could step closer and start to skillfully attack his ribs with my expert fingers. He writhed and giggled. "Aw, ish ickle Bertums ticklish? Ish he?"
"Carrie, please, stop!" Bert squealed, pushing against my abdomen to try and put a pause in the process but he just ended up doubling over in another wave of laughter.
I held his hands together with one of mine and continued tickling him with the other as he leant against the brick of the barbeque as supportive, face all flushed and gasping through his giggles fro air. Bert tried to make me unpin his arms but I held on.
"I knew it!" He gasped. "You're going to rape me, aren't you?" I didn't answer, only grunted, as I kept on with my onslaught. "Well, Mr. Sexy Rapist-Man, I think you should know that, while I may be a good little Catholic school-girl, I tend to moan like a whore."
"You're a git," I informed him, clapping a hand over his mouth. Unfortunately, he took the opportunity to have control soon after and I was just as ticklish as he was. When, a few minutes later, we were both worn out, Bert disentangled himself from my limbs and leapt up.
"No!" He whined as he threw the overly-fried egg onto the plate with his spatula. "It's ruined!" I rolled my eyes but rubbed his back as he pretended to sob. "Ruined, I tell you! All burnt and crispy and why the hell is it purple, black and orange - Ack! This is just horrible!"
"It can't be that bad," I tried to be soothing though he was shielding my view of it protectively with his back.
"I guess you're right," he said reluctantly. Then he turned around and shoved the plate, with the burnt emu placenta on it, under my nose proudly. "EAT IT!"
I started to grin but then I realized mortified, that he was completely serious. "B-Bert, I can't-"
"Yes you can!" He interrupted, beaming as if he'd found the cure for AIDS. "Take it and enjoy. With love, from me."
I cringed. "Um, I'd love to but ... but..." I tried to think. "But you made it! So you should get to eat it!"
"Oh ... well, it is very burnt, maybe I shouldn't. But if you'd like to-"
"No!" I almost shouted and then giggled nervously. "I mean, no, it's okay. Maybe we could feed some starving seagulls instead."
He narrowed his eyes but then he skipped off with the egg to find some poor bird. It turned none of the animals in the park wanted to eat an emu's unborn baby's life-force-in-the-womb. So we stored all the items he'd brought with us back in Bert's clothing and started to walk back. By this time, it was ten past seven and most little cafes and restaurants were just opening. Bert turned to me, squeezing my hand which he'd been holding onto for a while.
"Would you like some breakfast?"
I nodded so we walked into the nearest small restaurant. I grinned when Bert looked over the breakfast menu with disgust. Our waitress,
He held up a finger as if to say 'wait!' and continued to scan all the options. Abruptly, he asked loudly, "Why are there so many eggy meals? It's murder!"
I leant over the table and told him quietly, "It can't be murder, only the un-fertilized eggs can be used for us to eat."
"Oh." He scrunched up his nose after some consideration, "Still placenta."
Bert looked like he was going to snap back at her but he held himself back and calmly closed the menu before delicately placing it face-down on the table and sniffing. Folding his arms neatly and looking at her innocently, he gave his order. "I will have a croissant with just a dollop of cream cheese - and no more than a dollop. On top of that, I would like ten grams of grated cheese. No, ten grams of melted cheese. And on top of that, thinly sliced tomato." He paused to quickly peer at a page of the menu again.
"And a cappuccino please."
"Any requests for the cappuccino, sir?" She asked him sarcastically but he did.
"I've never tried icing sugar in coffee before so two spoons of that. Extra cream... And grated cooking chocolate - none of that Cadbury crap. That'll be all, you may now have the pleasure of asking my girl."
"Just a blueberry muffin please,
She smiled back as Bert watched on amused. "I'll be right back."
When she was gone, I stared incredulously at Bert. "Extra cream, icing sugar, chocolate - do you want a heart attack?!"
He giggled. "Don't be a silly duck, I'm not going to drink it. She is simply making me a coffee for no good reason apart to see me happy at her frustration."
I sighed and shook my head though I should be used to this sort of behavior. "You're impossible."
"Well I'm getting all the mean-ness out of my system for tonight."
I gave him my best confused look. It was genuine too. "Why, what's happening tonight, Bert?"
"Your parents' ball, of course."
"Yes," I said slowly, still confused, "and what does that have to do with you?"
"Oh! So you think I'm just going to let my girlfriend run off with her fiancée from me for almost two days?"
"Bert-"
"I want to meet your parents."
"Bert-"
He pouted. "You're going to say 'no' aren't you?"
"Yes."
"Yes I can go or yes I was right about you saying no?"
"You can't come with Frank and I." I confirmed. "Sorry but Mom wouldn't understand if I bring you too and there's no way she can know about us."
"Carrie, are you ashamed of me?"
"Of course I'm not but this is an inconvenience! I've gotten engaged so I can't let my Mom and Dad know about my relationship with you."
"I'm an inconvenience?"
"No! Us shagging is an inconvenience to the situation that happened before you came along." When he still looked upset, I sighed. "Okay Bertums. If Frank doesn't mind you can come."
He nodded, satisfied, stood up grabbing my hand and dragging me out despite my protests that I wanted breakfast. He just told me that he needed to ask Frank now. So I went with him without anymore arguments, though shaking my head at him.
"Frank! I need to ask you something im-port-ant!" Bert sang happily as he opened the apartment door with a bang and stepped in, beaming full-wattage. I followed, extremely curious of what Frank's answer would be. "Frank-"
But Bert was cut off as we entered the living space, by Gerard yelping, who was sitting next to Frank as they read something Gerard held. I got a feeling of deja-vu as I asked what it was they were reading. Frank's mouth set in a grim line as he closed it and handed it over to me. "Look."
I raised an eyebrow and took the just released issue of Kerrang! from him. My eyes scanned the front cover which, this month, featured Joel Madden and his ... lovechild posing together. Featured on the front were also an interview with Rammstein, a photo shoot with Ville Valo, an overview of an apparently big music festival in
"Not that," Frank hissed. "Look on page ..." He trailed off and looked like he was trying to remember a very difficult number.
"Eight," Gerard finished for him, before getting up from the couch and wandering off, probably for the toilet, "Page eight."
I nodded at his retreating back before quickly flicking, flicking to the right spot. A medium sized photo of Frank and I exiting the emergency room and then, under that one, one of Bert and I walking back from the bookstore one day were what greeted me. My mouth opened slightly as I read the title of the relatively small article and Bert looked too, over my shoulder.
'Is Frank Iero's fiancée just another gold-digging groupie?' read the header.
When I'd finished reading it over, twice, I threw it down and ran my fingers through my hair. They'd printed that their 'source' told them about Frank's and my engagement so they'd been following us. 'Soon after' we 'became a couple' Frank 'sobbingly left' me at the airport and I already had my 'sights set on equally popular Bert McCracken'. Gah, they knew nothing!
"Well that's awkward," Bert observed from behind me, biting loudly into an apple. I winced at the sound of his teeth hitting the flesh of the fruit. He's a loud eater.
Frank shot him a glare. "Carrie, do you think your parents would read this?"
I snorted. "My mom and dad reading Kerrang!? No ... But no doubt one of thousands of people they know will read it and will tell them.... Oh shit, bugger, wank dick, fuck it!"
Bert kissed the side of my head. "It'll be okay."
I bit on my tongue to stop myself from yelling at him that it wouldn't be okay and gave a fake smile. "Are you going to ask Frank…"
"What? Oh .. oh yes!" He turned to Frank, who was looking at us both from the couch with extreme disinterest. "Ah ... heh," he tried to smile appealingly and innocently but all Frank did in return was sit back and raise an eyebrow. "Don't hurt me but can I come ... can-I-come-with-you-and-Carrie-to-Carrie’s-parents’-house? Please, please, please? Carrie won't let me come unless you agree so please say yes!"
"So you've asked Carrie?" Bert nodded so he said, "And she said yes?"
"No, you have to first."
Frank shook his head and opened his mouth to answer just as Gerard, who was walking through to the kitchen, stopped to listen. "Um, I don't think-" Frank stopped when Gerard gave him a look I'd become familiar with, as lately he'd quite often been giving it to either Frank or Bert, and sighed, "Yeah sure. You can come Bert."
Bert kissed him loudly and quickly on the lips before yelling, "Thank you!" as Gerard walked on, satisfied.
"Okay, now go shave," I told him, trying to shove him into the bathroom.
"But I did just the other day!" He protested.
"Yeah, I know, but it's growing back and it's not a good look." I ignored his indignation. "So go shave and we can go do what we didn't do last night-"
"It's not my fault I was tired!"
"I know. So shave and you can bang me, yes?"
His immediate response was to press against me but then he said, pulling away and his eyes darting to our friend on the couch, "Ehm no ... I can't right now. I have ... something .. there's this thing - yes, I have a thing." He kissed my forehead. "I have to go."
I stood, stunned, and watched him walk out of the apartment (did he just decline sex?). Gerard stuck his head in the room to tell us he'd be going with him too. Frank stood up and appeared in front of me. Good fuck, he's good looking ... Bad girl, Carrie.
"So do you want to spend some quality time with me instead ... packing your stuff?" He asked and I smiled.
xo-
~ My Chemical Romance is done. But it can never die. Because it is not a band- it is an idea. ~
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