STAY FROSTY ROYAL MILK TEA ;

ANGELO MORETTI 24. HACKER. REAPER. ❝ I AM A COLLAPSING STAR WITH TUNNEL VISION °✧

[angelomrtti-blog]

wyattcallahvn

@angelomrtti

         “ — Slow down, dude. What are you, a vacuum?” A late breakfast with his best friend truly did wonders when Wyatt felt down. He’d always been the one person other than his siblings that he could actually talk to who wasn’t going to be completely biased in their opinions. Plus, it was just nice to sit there with someone who didn’t ask how he was doing every five minutes. They both knew that if they really wanted to talk, the other would listen. “I’m not even sure how to do the Heimlich to save your ass if you choke.” 

Wolfing down scrambled eggs, sausages and bacon — man, breakfast food is so fucking good — faster than anyone could say slow down ( much less Wyatt ), he grinned at the younger guy opposite him. “Aww, you don’t have look out for me, little man. It has always been the other way around, hasn’t it?” He drank his water with equal fervor, knowing full well that anyone who could see him will be grimacing at the bad habit. One is never supposed to drink water without fully swallowing their food first, but Angelo didn’t really give a shit. Leaning against the worn out cushion of the booth, he casually crossed his arms. “Although I highly doubt you’re here just to watch me eat. You wanted to show me something...?” He was referring to Wyatt’s artwork. Or comics. Or whatever the blonde was up to these days.

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rosiecahill

help me find a sharper knife, need to cut you out my life. // @angelomrtti​

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Furious doesn’t even begin to describe her state of mind, emerald hues watching in disbelief as her ride disappears over the horizon. Leaving her stranded in the middle of an empty club parking lot with the last person on earth she wanted to be left alone with. “You’ve got to be FUCKING KIDDING ME.” There’s no point in keeping her voice down, no risk of causing a scene with a lack of audience to witness it. “I was gone for less than a minute to get my jacket and you what, ran them off?" It was the only assumption that could be made. One moment the occupants of the truck were more than happy to help her out for the night, the next they were gone. The only difference between the two moments? Angelo Fucking Moretti. “You’d think after you ruined my life once you’d have the decency not to do it anymore.”

“Yet here you stand ruining it for the millionth time.” Chipped, uneven nails run through wind swept golden trusses, frustrated beyond belief. Porcelain features flush as Rose works herself into a drunken frenzy. “Guess it’s my fault for thinking you and the term decent could be mutually exclusive.” She’s inebriated, cold, hungry, and tired. If there were ever a worse time to catch her, her ex managed to do so. “What are you even doing here, Angelo? Do you have some sort of GPS tracker on me or something?”

Out of all the days he’d run into her, it had to be today. It was a small town, so what did he fucking expect? Successfully avoiding someone could only last for so long, and it wasn’t like he was trying his hardest to avoid her. It was just his stupid luck that he needed to catch a break and take a smoke at the alley beside a club, and merely pure coincidence that he heard the voice of — guess what — his ex who was trying to get a lift. A disgusting leer was clear in the males’ voices, which made him want to punch their faces. What happened next was a no-brainer. Of course, he would scare them off. But he was hoping Rose wouldn’t be back so soon, was hoping that she wouldn’t see him so he wouldn’t have to endure the judgment in her sky blue eyes.

Well, Angelo has never really gotten what he wanted now, has he?

He tried not to let her words stab him as he carefully watched her tirade. He knew she would never forgive him, but there was still some part of him that hoped. “Sierra,” he spoke, his hand held out in front of him as if she could lash out at any given time. “I don’t make it my personal goal to ruin your life. But do you even know those fucking dipshits?” He didn’t know what he was doing. Perhaps he should’ve shut up. He didn’t want to sound protective of her, but he felt like a dam whose barrier had been let down for the first time. “Was that what you’ve been up to these days? I thought you would’ve learned by now.” To not get caught up in a bad boy’s ruse.

[angelomrtti-blog]

text || hugh + angelo

Hugh: have u ever seen fullmetal alchemist?

Hugh: i got netflix and forgot this was in my watchlist ever since i was a teen. and u were still, idk, a baby bahaha #burn #eventhoimreallyjustadmittingmyage #dopeoplestillusehashtags?

Hugh: anyway. tuesday, usual time?

Angelo: what's that? a film?

Angelo: wow you just dissed yourself. congrats teach'

Angelo: why what's on tuesday?

[angelomrtti-blog]

text || river + angelo

River: you know those contacts you keep to make sure you don't pick up their calls?

River: that's you

Angelo: 🖕

Angelo: enjoy the rest of your day

[angelomrtti-blog]

rykerdawscn

“You need to get out of here,” he surprisingly answered in a rather calm tone, despite the war raging on in his head. He’d spent the last day or so in a drunken stupor, holed up in Shay’s house for the singular fact that he didn’t know what to do. He knew he needed to give Harlow space, knew that he had no right to go seeking forgiveness for a decision that had to be done. “I made a decision, for the sake of the Reapers, but not everyone’s gonna understand that. You shouldn’t risk yourself,” he spoke with a sigh, fingers tugging through tousled locks. Ryker was aware he probably didn’t look like himself, disheveled and unkempt despite his constant need to keep his appearance up. 

He gritted his teeth, unfazed by Ryker’s rancor towards him. Angelo knew it wasn’t directed towards him per se, and it was probably just a product of his inebriated state. He has known alcohol to possess a man and turn him into a devil, and was no stranger to its effects. Even if Ryker was River’s friend first and foremost, the former stood as something of a middle ground between River and Angelo. If things get too heated, Ryker would just make them drunk. Not the best of solutions, but Angelo appreciated it for what it was. “Not until you explain to me what the fuck is happening,” he demanded, walking past him — which was easy, considering the fact that Ryker wasn’t currently at his best strength. “I need to know what exactly I’m risking myself for by talking to you.” He paused. “You’re still a Reaper, aren’t you?”

[angelomrtti-blog]

heidibergen

“It’s not because you are unemployed, but because it’s me,” Heidi replied with a chuckle. Some might have called what she had arrogance, she just called it confidence. Knowing your full worth and not being afraid to show it or talk about was never a bad thing, as far as she was concerned. The last person in front of her got their order and Heidi stepped up to the counter and quickly ordered her coffee. “Awesome, I needed a partner for the afternoon,” she smiled at Angelo over her shoulder. Of course, she could have probably found somebody who was there if Angelo didn’t have free time, but sparring with him was always way too much fun and challenging, and she needed somebody who gave it their all, and she knew Angelo would do the that for sure. “See you in the afternoon then,” she smiled at him as she turned around, the cup of coffee in her hand before she headed off to work.

A couple of hours later Heidi was warming up at the side of the boxing ring, her towel and water bottle on a chair up against the wall a couple of meters away, while a pair sparred in the ring. She wasn’t sure when Angelo would shop up, but she planned to spend several hours in here - had to get out her pent-up aggression due to that one person and one situation she did not even want to think about (not that it was possible, but she could try) -, so whenever he showed up, he was going to get an extra angry and extra active Heidi for sure.

“Ready to get your ass kicked?” she called out to him when she noticed him, rubbing her hands together in anticipation.

Angelo was running late like he usually did. He had slept the rest of the morning away despite having shots of espresso — sleep-deprived as he was. He knew he wasn’t in the best shape to be overexerting himself with exercise, but there was a great need for him to loosen up, and that was best done through boxing. He was lucky to had been taught by Hugh — and was still teaching him, in fact — on how to professionally throw punches. Perhaps the good-natured teacher took pity on him, but nevertheless, he was grateful for him no matter how ridiculous the teacher can get.

Hearing Heidi call out to him, he smirked in response. “You fucking bet,” he simply agreed, knowing full well that he might get his ass handed to him. “Ready to get yours kicked?” Angelo and Heidi usually tied on their winnings and losses, the other never getting too ahead of the other one. He felt no shame about that fact, aware of how competitive women can get. He wondered what it felt like to become truly passionate. Sure, maybe computers and programming was his passion, but only because he was naturally good at it. He never had to work hard to understand it nor to be good at it. 

He started to do warm-ups, watching the ongoing spar. “I guess it never occurred to me that you being back in town would also mean Erika’s also here,” he conveyed, slightly wincing at the memory of their chance encounter. 

[angelomrtti-blog]

rosiemoretti

          Rosie had never been able to fully comprehend the resemble between the two, out of all the Moretti daughters she looked like her mother the most, but her blue hues had come as a surprise to everyone, as blue as her grandmothers. As blue as Angelo’s. The two shared more than just their eyes an a father, they looked almost the same, in fact she remembers a time when people thought of them as twins. How fun would’ve that been. She had always thought to herself, for she had loved Angelo since the first moment her chubby hands had set on his little warm cheeks. And as the grew older and aware of the reality of how they were only half related, her love for him never faltered. To Rosie, that was her brother, there were halves or anything else to take into consideration. They were family, point blank. 

          “Hey,” she whispered in response, truly happy to see him, out of everyone in town her siblings were the only ones she cared to see at the moment. Everyone else needed to stay as far away from her as possible. Standing up and bracing her jacket closer to her, welcoming the warmth of it, she looked at him with a small smile. “I didn’t want to have anything else to do with them, having them escorting me home was out of the question. Even if I had to walk home.” She said following him towards the bike, the vehicle always remind her of Jonny and his covered up bike that was wasting away in a corner of her garage. She refused to let it go even if she would never dare to drive it on her own. 

Rosie was awarded by a muted smile from Angelo, a slight twinkle in his eyes. It was clear the he was proud of her for sticking it up in their asses that she was not to be messed — in her very own way, of course. He never did quite see Rosie being rough towards others, which probably amazed Angelo more than it should have. He imagine being generally amiable, and it seemed to be like the hardest work in the world. Being constantly kind and sweet was a rare gift that Angelo couldn’t fathom, and it seemed that it was bestowed on his sister. He was used to hostility being directed towards him, but Rosie... She was a different kind altogether. Sometimes, he had a hard time grasping that she was his sister. Everyone hated him whilst everyone loved her. They were polar opposites, but she didn’t treat him any less. And that meant everything to him.

Once they had arrived at her house, he waited for her to open the front door. Rosie had given him a spare key, which he hadn’t used in a long while nor was it with him now. Although his youngest sister had continuously welcomed him to be a permanent resident, the thought simply didn’t sit right with Angelo. He’d always put Rosie on a pedestal, and so he can’t be blamed if he thought that staying with her for an extended period of time would start affecting her in negative ways. Which is maybe why he wasn’t entirely accepting of the idea of his sweet being mixed up with the bad guys. “I can go now, if you want to be alone for a while,” he offered, standing with his arms crossed, slightly caught off guard by wind freely whipping by his bare arms. 

[onlytwitterpics]

[angelomrtti-blog]

@wyattcallahvn

[angelomrtti-blog]

wentzellroni

Instinctively her wrist yanked away from his grasp; failing in its release. Touching had been contorted into a different meaning the past few years, and the restraint left frustration bubbling below the surface. “Let go of me, Angel. Now.”  Skin felt burnt beneath his fingers, he was far too close for the distance she had built between them. A distrust that formed as a consequence of silly children’s games; exposing what she had fell prey to believe was his true face. The repressed rationale for her continued animosity towards one she once called a true friend, remained hidden from her conscious. He had become an outlet. Using the crime he committed to funnel continued resentment towards the Reapers. They had abandoned her, and in retort she had abandoned him as convoluted punishment. “Ah-I’m sorry. I didn’t know I had two probation officers to report to now.” Eyes narrowed as she spoke, with thinned lips. “I just got back, it’s not like I sent a mass text or anything.”  

The sight of her still pained him, and her obvious disdain for Angelo made him feel like complete and utter shit. He faintly shook his head, knowing full well that she’d leave him right then and there were he to let go. “We just need to talk,” he spoke softly, still confused as to why Veronica, out of all people, was doing this to him. Shouldn’t she be the one to know that he was the most fucked up person around, but still be his friend? He had always felt like an outcast everywhere he went, but it didn’t truly matter to because one friend, one partner-in-crime was all he needed. Vera. He led her to an empty booth at the corner of the establishment, and sat down opposite her. “No, not a probation officer. Guess you fucking forgot what being a friend means,” he remarked, giving her a steely look. Running a hand through his hair, it was probably the first time he had felt this worked up in years over someone else who wasn’t family. “They wouldn’t tell me anything.”

[angelomrtti-blog]

erikabergen

Erika had dealt with her fair share of brats, seeing as she seemed to blend in well with them back in New York. This boy easily fell into that category with his willingness to argue back with his sarcastic retorts. It was almost amusing in a way because he just looked so innocent. He didn’t give Erika the vibe of a bad boy, in her eyes, it looked like a puppy dog who was trying way too hard. If she was honest, that vibe felt a little familiar, like she’s experienced this puppy trying to be tougher than he was but she couldn’t put her finger on it.  As he referred to her as royalty she couldn’t stop the cocky grin that cracked her serious expression, because how could she not feel as though she had the upper hand when he was just stating a fact.

The mention of his sister getting arrested was not how she was expecting him to turn this conversation though. A snort followed by a quick chuckle was her first response which probably was not the way any normal person would react but in Erika’s defence, she didn’t have a proper reaction onhand. “Sorry, but wow. Are you always that much of an open book with strangers?” she asked him, doing her best to find the right way to act when someone informs you of something personal like that. “Alright, out of the kindness of my heart, I’ll release your note. Now the least you could do is give that apology another go.”

She bent down to pull the paper from under her foot and held it tightly between her thumb and index finger, awaiting her apology once more. The look on his face was unsettling, the confused expression as he studied her. “What’s that look for? I know I’m cute but I can still break your nose if you keep staring like that.”

But all thoughts of retrieving the paper back had already flown right out the window. As soon as he placed where he knew her face from, the feeling of guilt? started to settle at the pit of his stomach. Of course, he knew who she was. He’d always avoided the subject every time he’d meet with the other...Bergen siblings. The last time they’d seen each other was when they were freaking six year olds, but they’d kept in contact for the next six years until shit started happening and his life turned a complete 180 degrees. He could understand why she wouldn’t recognize him. Heck, he barely recognized her at all.

“Eri...?” he involuntarily let out, the pet name of bygone days flowing naturally on his tongue. Now that he was left stupefied, Angelo didn’t quite know how to act. He had known that he’d stumble into her at one point because of the sheer size of the town, but he still wasn’t about to prepare for a meeting like this. Suddenly remembering what he was arguing for, he grabbed the paper and pulled it back, but was surprised at the amount of force she was holding it. He couldn’t help the smirk flitting across his face. There was no doubt to be made that this was the youngest sibling of the Bergens, but it was instantly wiped away by the thought of Erika. She was part — perhaps the main part — of Angelo’s guileless childhood, before his father learned that he was a good outlet for his drunken frustrations. Maybe the reason why he stopped contacting her was because he was afraid that she wouldn’t recognize him anymore, changed as he was. He couldn’t keep contacting her anymore without feeling like an impostor.

So he tried to apologize once more. For the sake of their past friendship. Clearing his throat, he started, “look, I know I’ve been a complete ass — can’t really help it — and for that, I’m...” He struggled to get the word out of his mouth. “—sorry.” Perhaps he wasn’t only apologizing for his rudeness, but also for everything.

[raelynnnix]

[angelomrtti-blog]

@rosiecahill

[gafgifs]

[angelomrtti-blog]

@erikabergen

[scr33ncaps]

I Believe in Unicorns - Leah Meyerhoff (2014)

[angelomrtti-blog]

@wentzellroni

[angelomrtti-blog]

@rykerdawscn

It surprised Angelo that he didn’t feel any animosity at all towards Ryker. Sure, the youngest Reaper he knew sold out the patriarch of the Reapers and probably turned his back on them, but as far as Angelo could understand, it was all for a good reason. Ryker and Angelo weren’t the closest of friends, but they’ve known each other for a considerable amount of time and basically grew into the Reaper life together. It was hard to dismiss that. And frankly, he didn’t understand what the fuck was going on and it was his fault. “What the hell is going on?” was his singular question and it was enough for Angelo to convey that he didn’t see Ryker in a different light. He had been on the receiving end of looks of disgust and betrayed faces, but perhaps not to this extent. Nevertheless, Angelo could — for once — sympathize with him.

[angelomrtti-blog]

libbyhawthorne

It had been a few weeks after the whole gala fiasco and Libby was finally on the mend. She spent a week in the hospital and released the week after. She spent most of her time in the beginning at her parents home and they she was finally able to transition to her apartment. She loved spending time with her parents, but she also loved having her own place as well. That afternoon since it was so nice outside, she finally decided to get out and go to the store. However, she soon discovered pushing a cart while using cruches was a bit of a challenge. “I really should have thought this through…”

There was no suitable reason for Angelo to be seen at a grocery store, but Isla had asked — more like bossed — for him to fetch some groceries and normally he wouldn’t have gone to follow it. But this time around was different, and he decided to do something nice for his sister. Once in a while. Frowning down at his phone, wondering what the hell was a tahini, he stopped at an aisle for a while. Soon after, he felt someone’s cart bump behind him, and was about to drop his phone. “Son of a — “ he started, but the incoming curse quickly died away when he realized who it was. The irritation instantly melted away from his face. “Libby? What happened to you?” he asked, out of sheer shock at the image she painted. He felt a pang of guilt for never having checked up on her. Or even the rest of his friends. Without asking — and as if it was the most natural thing in the world — he helped her push the cart around.

[angelomrtti-blog]

islaxmoretti

ANGELO.

       “Of course I lost my fucking keys,” a frazzled Isla, in need of a shower, mutters bitterly. With gritted teeth and a clenching jaw, her fingertips frantically search her purse from the night before — oh so kindly handed back to her by the cops earlier that morning. Muttering something unintelligible under her breath, she waves off Jordan in the distance before moving to pick up the pot plant by the door in the hopes of finding a spare key. And just as she does so, the front door opens, coming face to face with the unexpected. Angelo was home. 

       It wasn’t often that he was the face to open the door to the Moretti family home considering he was barely ever there. The brunette’s mind had been so consumed with the ordeal from the night before, and the fact that Rosie was still locked up, that she hadn’t even thought to check up on her little brother yet. Thankfully she hadn’t seen him at the gala, rendering him safe from the fire that had taken place the night before, and igniting a wave of relief to wash over her right then and there. Everything was a fucking mess, and she couldn’t deal with the influx of obstacles that had been thrown at the world of Westport. All she knew was, she was in shock. 

        Mostly from everything she’d been through in the past 12 hours or so but, the fact that her brother had just leaned forward and pulled her into an embrace, left a usually chatterbox-Isla utterly speechless. Only for a few moments, of course. “—Gee, you must’ve worried about me,” a smirk tugging at one of the corner’s of her lips as her amused but tired eyes analysed his own. “Good you’re safe, brother,” she squeezes his arm with a small smile, before moving past him, dumping that purse of hers on a nearby console table. “Ugh, can you fucking believe this shit? Honestly. —Wait.. where’ve you been all this time?” 

Locking the door behind them, he leaned against it, crossing his arms as he watched the breadwinner of the Moretti’s move about the house. He faintly sighed in relief. Everything was back to normal. Everything in the world was alright again. Well, semi-alright, considering Rosie. He knew he wasn’t the greatest of brothers, knew that they probably think he valued the Reapers more than his own blood, but they were...wrong? If given the choice to choose between his family and the gang ( which was also more like his family than anything ), there’d be no doubt about it. He’d choose his sisters. Right?

He gave her a confused look, mixed with slight irritation. “What do you mean? I’ve been here this whole time. Well, I was at the station for most of that time. Wouldn’t let me see you two,” he eventually admitted. “Also, I think you should take a shower. I don’t think the whole gala look should last for more than a night.” His face was filled with mock disgust, but the affection was clear in his eyes. “And I’m starving so you better hurry up.” He’d forgotten to eat all day, and now that 1/2 of the locked up sisters have come back save and sound, the adrenaline that was sustaining him had died down, leaving him painfully aware of his lack of sustenance. 

[angelomrtti-blog]

wentzellroni

@angelomrtti

Barely in town for twenty-four hours, Veronica had been caught up on the dramatic arsonist reeking havoc in Westport. It was a tragedy, sure but more weighing on her mind was how quickly her roommate had set her nerves ablaze. A step through the door and already the screeching commands of cleanliness reached her ears. Unwilling to deal with anything that incited more frustration, she sought refuge at Lucky’s. Or at least hoped too. Bubble gum popped between her lips while music blasted through headphones, only to be interrupted by the sudden jolting in her shoulder. A reminder that personal space did not exist in Westport. “Fucking hell, watch where you’re going.” Curses muttered under her breath until eyes reached those of the wall she collided with. “Angel…” A moment of softness as recognition swirled, perhaps a twitch in the corners of a smile before it faded into the memory of the present. “What? You forget how to walk in a straight line or something?” 

It was one of those rare moments when he’d decide to be a ‘good’ brother and check up on his three sisters. Although the text from A was probably just a harmless prank or a careless joke, Angelo was sure as hell not amused by it. He had to admit, Stella was the sister he had most trouble keeping in touch with, but that didn’t mean he cared for her any less. Just as he was walking back to exit the establishment, a little girl suddenly came running by, and to avoid colliding into her, he abruptly sidestepped, inadvertently bumping into someone. He had yet to recognize the voice, and was softly laughing in that dead manner which always seemed to unsettle those blessed enough to hear it, he started to protest, “you’re the one who got in my wa...Vera?” Shit. He was quite unprepared for this chance meeting, so much so that her smart reply went past his head instead of retorting back like he’d normally do. He grabbed for her wrist, unconsciously afraid that she might try to run away from him ( again ), his grip tight although not enough to bruise. “You didn’t tell me you were back in town.”