#sounds weird but it was like....it didn't feel as mean or cynical as let's say the big bang theory

[starpros-sunshine]

It's funny you said that because. True but also dennis and dee are axtually siblings and frank is their dad. Charlie and mac just accidentally joined the worst family on earth

Okay that's pretty amusing,,, doomed by the narrative by virtue of everyone else being horrible and you not being better truly there is nothing like sitcom satire

#for better or for worse #the only one I know by name here is charlie and the only clip I know him from is the one where they're at a bar?? i think?? #and he has a keyboard? #and I think it was a song about spiders but I might be misremembering #sitcoms are so fascinating to me as a genre because they only work if the characters aren't happy #idk I think that's fascinating #i used to watch a lot of those but I barely remember it #but wven as a kid I always thought they'd be funnier without the laugh track #most recent one I watched was The Nanny I actually really liked that one #it was refreshing in a way #sounds weird but it was like....it didn't feel as mean or cynical as let's say the big bang theory #that one just rubs me the wrong way #in a way I can't articulate but it feels so lazy #cobalt🐍

[elvendria]

NOTICING YOU - e.m x fem reader Part Three

tw: Reader is a cynic who doesn't believe in love, Claudia Henderson isn't the best :/ (is that a trigger? idk.), big sister acts like a parent, smoking, insomniac (??kinda if you squint??), swearing, jealous!Eddie (if you squint), pet names

word count: 4710

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part one part two part three part four part five part six part seven

Y/N'S POV

"So, were you able to get through to someone to get your car fixed?" Mom asked. I told her the conversation I had over the phone with Eddie and explained that he'd be here first thing in the morning to collect the car and take it to the shop. 

"First thing? But they're always swamped with cars on a Saturday. I thought you wouldn't get seen till Sunday, Monday at the latest." Mom said. 

"Same here," I attempted to stifle a yawn but failed. "I've to be up early so uh... goodnight." I turned around and walked away.

I was never close with Mom, and then things kicked off with Dad. 

I guess it was then I realised I wasn't as close with either of my parents as I had thought.

I padded down the hall towards Dustin's room in my bare feet, the feeling of the cool wood underneath my feet relaxing me with each step. I passed by my room to see Tews sitting on my bed cleaning herself. I hate that cat and I have no idea why my mom loves it so much. 

That's not to say all cats are bad, I just don't like this particular cat. 

Knocking on Dustin's bedroom, I waited to hear him say "It's open," before opening it slightly and sticking my head around the door. 

"Goodnight boys," I smiled at them, all gathered around together talking about god knows what.

 Mike, Will and Lucas will always feel like little brothers to me, I've known them so long. It felt weird seeing them as a trio, and a part of me missed seeing Will around the place. I hope he's happy in California. 

"Night Y/n!" 

"Thanks for letting us stay over!"

"Sleep. Soon." I said pointedly, "Just because you're in high school now does not mean you are to be up all night. You'll just end up being super tired tomorrow."

"But can't we just have-" Dustin started. 

"Dustin the last time you had coffee you went nuts. Not happening again under my watch." I said, leaving the room

"Technically we're under Mom's watch," He mumbled back defeatedly. 

I stuck my head back around the door, giving him a look that blatantly said 'Really? Moms' watch? Have you ever even met our mother?' before he groaned causing me to laugh as I exited the room. 

Sometimes I love to play the authoritative big sister card just to mess with him, it can really piss him off. 

I didn't know how what time 'first thing' was, I'm grateful and all but couldn't he be a bit more specific? Either way, I was going to need to get to sleep so I could wake up early. I set my alarm for 7:30 am, which isn't even a time that should exist on a Saturday morning, so I could get up and be ready for when he calls. I had switched off the handbrake and managed to push the car till it was outside my house. Could've done with Robin's freakishly strong arms but she had her Family Video shift, plus I'm fairly sure I earned a few muscles of my own. 

Changing into a pair of old biker shorts and an oversized misfits t-shirt, I crawled into my bed and lay on my side, willing sleep to come, but my head was so full of thoughts it was like there was no switching it off. I lay like that until I could hear everyone in bed, and the faint sound of my mother's snoring echoed through the halls. 

When I was certain that she was asleep, I snuck out of the house and sat on the swing bench on our porch, curling my knees up to my chest underneath my shirt and resting my head on them. 

There was something about the nighttime, the way the town went silent. As a kid, I used to believe that because it was so quiet, everyone would be able to hear the slightest noise you make. On nights like these, I sometimes wonder the same thing. 

Except now I know about science and the speed of sound, so the idea is a complete fantasy. 

Sitting on the bench, lighting up a cigarette from my stash that kept my hands slightly warm. I looked out at the sky, not seeing a single star. Not seeing anything but the faint glow of the street lamps from down the road. There was a faint breeze that wrapped around my ankles now and again, but other than that it was a warm night, unusually warm for October. 

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I sat there until I could see orange streaks beginning to paint the sky. So much for trying to get some sleep. I unfolded myself from the swing and walked to my room, careful not to wake anyone. Checking my alarm clock, I saw that it was 7 am. I could try and get a 30-minute nap in but knowing me, I'd sleep past my alarm. 

I took a shower, scrubbing the smell of the night air off my skin. I wanted to stay in the shower, to feel the steam rise around me, but I didn't have the time. I turned off the water, wrapped my hair and body in a towel, and then made my way to my room to start getting ready. 

I debated drying my hair but decided I wasn't in the mood to deal with the frizz today (I never am). Pulling on a low-cropped white shirt, black ripped jeans and combat boots, I got changed and grabbed some cereal before sitting on the couch and reading. By the time Eddie pulled up, my hair was almost dry but still damp in places. 

The doorbell rang and I looked at my mother, not surprised to find her fawning over that stupid cat once again. I got up and answered the door, a part of me freaking out before remembering why he was here.

"Hi," I said quietly, fear washing over me as I suddenly realised this was my first time talking to Eddie, face to face. 

"Hey," he replied equally as sheepish. Was something wrong? Had I done something?

His eyes moved down towards my exposed waistline, and I desperately wanted to grab a hoodie to cover up.

He must've found the shitty brown carpet very fascinating because he couldn't seem to look away from it. "So the truck is parked out front, I've hooked your car up to it and everything, I just need you to come down to the shop to fill out some stuff." He told me. I figured I'd have to go to the mechanics at some stage today, I just didn't think it would be so soon.

"Do you want a coffee or something before we go?" I pointed my thumb towards the kitchen, the mannerisms that my grandmother drilled into me coming into play again. He looked up, our eyes holding each other and suddenly I felt like there was a magnetic in each of his eyes, drawing me in closer. 

From where we were standing you could see beside the kitchen, where my mom was sitting there, talking to Tews like it was a human baby. 

"Uhm, maybe some other time?" He said, suppressing a grin.

"Yeah sure," 

Had I just 'yeah sure' d the idea of coffee with Eddie Munson? 

"I'll grab my mom's car keys, just hang on two seconds." I turned towards the living room where my Mom was sitting, combing the cat with an old comb of mine. 

"Um, there's room up the front of the truck if you want to ride up there with me?" He asked me, "It might be a bit easier." 

I turned one more time to look at my mother, who was now singing lullabies to this freaky cat before agreeing.

God, I miss Mews. Now that was a cat who did not like to be coddled.

Just as I was about to pull the door behind me, my mother called out. "Remember you're trying on dresses for homecoming this afternoon! We'd better hurry or all the good ones will be sold out!" 

My heart dropped and I wanted to strangle her. I prayed to whoever was up there that Eddie hadn't heard her.

I threw my book bag over my shoulder, I never liked to leave home without it. He opened the car door for me and waited till I was in okay before running to check that everything was hooked up properly. While I was waiting for him, I sat noticing all the little details in it. Things like his pack of cigarettes and a lighter, or a few jumbled-up mix-tapes sitting in the glove box and in the pockets on the driver-side door. A black bandana was thrown across the dashboard, most likely the one that Eddie carries around all the time. 

What surprised me most was the pack of hair ties hidden underneath his rolling papers. Although I guess when you have as much hair as he does and work as a mechanic, tying it up is more of an occupational precaution.

He opened his door and threw off his coat before jumping in. He grabbed a hair tie and pulled his hair back, and I tried my hardest not to look as every muscle in his arm flexed. Made all the more visible by his grey muscle shirt, his tattoos on full display.

"Buckled up?" He asked me, I nodded as I closed the seat belt around myself. He did the same and then started up the car. He drove with one hand on the wheel and another on the gear stick, right next to my knee. Every so often there'd be a bump in the road and his knuckles would graze against my jeans or my exposed knee, sending off shocks from where he touched me. 

The silence was deafening, the only noise coming from the metal music on his radio. It was a bunch of different bands which made me think it was a mix-tape. I was going to say something, compliment the music, but Eddie beat me to the punch before I could open my mouth. 

"So, you're going to homecoming?" His eyes were fixed straight ahead on the road. There was a tone to his words that I couldn't quite decipher, almost nervous.

"Um. Yeah," I fidgeted with my hands in my lap. "last year and all that, figured I'd see what all the fuss was about while I still can."

"And uh," His grip on the steering wheel tightened, his eyes unwavering from the road ahead, "and do you have a date?"

My chest tightened and I suddenly felt like I couldn't breathe given the thickness of the air around us. 

"No, it's just me and Robin," I said lowering my head, suddenly very fascinated by my hands, "We'll probably both just sit on the bleachers till 10 pm before figuring out some way home."

"Good," he muttered quietly, almost as if he didn't want me to hear him. I had so many questions, but a few stuck out in my mind. 

 Was he happy I wasn't bringing a date? Or that I wouldn't be dancing?

"Are you going?" Why had I asked that? 

"No, it's uh," He chuckled slightly, "Not really my scene,"

I don't know why my blood felt cold and my heart sank as he said this, but they did. 

 Master of Puppets by Metallica came on, and I started tapping my foot quietly, letting the questions and feelings fade with every strum of the guitar. Dad hated this song, but I always thought it was a good one. Hearing it again after so long caused goosebumps to make their way across my skin.

"Come Crawling Faster,"

I thought I was singing under my breath, but that last line came out louder than expected. I sat there and prayed he hadn't heard me. 

"Obey Your Master," He sang back, a smirk plastered on his face. 

His voice sent tingles down my spine and makes the hair on my arms stand upright, leaving me with goosebumps all over my skin. He was so close to me that I was almost certain he could feel the tension rising within me. 

He looked like he was going to say something, but then we turned onto the gravel path leading up to the mechanics, and the moment was gone.

Why does he make me feel like this, it's not like I have a crush on him or anything. Crushes are for girls in middle school and people with their heads in the clouds.

Maybe it was just because he was helping me out with the car. Yeah, people find plumbers and firefighters hot all the time, it's just because they're providing a service. 

Not that I find Eddie hot. I mean he is very attractive, and when he stretches his arms it makes me feel all weird inside, but I am most certainly not attracted to Eddie. 

The truck came to a halt outside the workshop. Eddie jumped out of the truck and rushed around to my side just as I was opening the door. 

"Here, it's a bit of a step-down. I'll give you a hand." He said. I swung both of my feet out as he held the back of my arm with his large hand, and I would've been fine. 

But I'm me, and I have to fill my daily awkward quota.

I started to climb down, my back to Eddie as I side-stepped out of the van, the coldness of his rings sending mini shockwaves from where he held my arm and wrist when my ankle went from under me, making me fall sideways. 

I squinted my eyes, sure that I was going to hit the pavement. An absolute goner that was going to end up in the hospital before dying of pure embarrassment. But the ground never came to meet me. 

Instead, I was pulled tight against something, a pair of arms wrapped around my back and legs. It felt like all the breath had left my body, and a strong smell of cigarettes and sandalwood filled my nose. 

I opened my eyes as Eddie gripped me to his chest, looking down at me as he held me bridal style. I felt my breath hitch in my throat as his dark orbs explored my face. 

I don't know if he did it on purpose or not, but he rubbed his finger in circles across my knee where his hand gripped my leg. The air felt electric, almost as if it could shock us both if we moved. His arm was on my back and I was glad it wasn't a few inches lower.

I was almost certain his dark eyes flickered down to my lips and lingered for a second, before quickly returning to look me in the eye. 

We looked at each other in silence. I felt his hot breath fan my face and caught the smell of mint.  I was almost certain he was going to say something, but he just cleared his throat.

"Sorry," 

"Are you okay?" He said at the same time as me. 

"Oh uh. I'm okay." I stammered through my words, "Thank you." 

We looked at each other again, and a small part of me didn't want him to put me down, but that idea was quickly erased from my mind when Eddie cleared his throat again, gradually lowering me till I was on my feet. I could tell that the awkwardness I was feeling was mutual as we both shuffled our feet.

The workshop was on the other side of town, it was a long walk home without the car, and I didn't want to trouble Eddie with driving me home. But it was like he was reading my mind because the next thing he said was, 

"You should come in and sit down," He motioned to the desk and chair beside him, piled high with paperwork. "It's supposed to rain on and off all day. I'll drive you home after I take a look at this baby." He unhooks the car from the truck before pushing it into the shop.

"Oh, thanks. You don't have to." I replied, moving towards the desk and placing down my book bag,  desperate to keep the nerves out of my voice.

"My pleasure." He smiled.

 He bent into the driver's side, fiddling for something. 

"Oh, there's a knack for popping the hood,  here I can-" I started, but before I could finish he had done it, a small grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. 

Eddie looked at me, and suddenly the concrete floor became very interesting, "Just a bit of pressure and some elbow grease should do the trick." He says, climbing back out of the car. 

He opens up the hood and takes a look as I sit down and place my bag on my lap. I want to ask if he minds me doing homework, but I don't want to look like I'm ignoring him or being rude.  

"Ok so, " he started, and I suddenly felt a drop in my stomach. What if my baby was fucked, and I could never drive her again? What if all she was good for anymore was spare parts? I was so worked up about never being able to drive my girl again that I completely forgot about the guy inspecting her. 

My freak out must've been clear on my face because Eddie's face became very soft and gentle, 

"Hey, hey, hey, don't worry, it's only a faulty spark plug and wire casings. You're alignments a bit off and your transmission is failing, but it's nothing I can't fix for you. There are some other things here and there that I'll need to get some parts for, and no offence but your car is an older model so it might take a while to get them all." He gave me a small smile, easing my nerves slightly. Eddie sounded like he knew what he was doing, so clearly he did. Right? 

"I'll be honest, none of that makes sense," I said, as he walks around and pulls out the chair for me. He's surprisingly chivalrous, opening car doors and pulling out chairs. I don't know what I expected him to be like, but it wasn't this. "I don't think she's ever been looked at after Dad renovated her." I sat in the chair and wonder why I ever thought my dad was a reliable person as Eddie walks into what I assume is a storage closet. 

"Here," he says, handing me a radio and a box of tapes that were just around, "Pick out some music, I wanna see what you choose." He had put the car on a lift earlier and was in the process of raising her, a skateboard and toolbox beside him. Once he was happy she was at a reasonable height he dropped to his knees beside the board, then flipped himself over so he was lying flat against it, using it to push himself under the car. 

I was flicking through the mix tapes he had when one stood out to me. Dad used to play it for Dustin as a kid, which in hindsight seems a bit weird but at the time it made him laugh and dance like crazy. 

Rock You Like A Hurricane by Scorpions started to echo around the building, and I hesitantly pulled out my economics textbook and attempted to try and understand this nonsense they tried to teach us, while Eddie just silently bopped his foot along to the tempo. 

Silence passed between us as I attempted to do homework and Eddie tried to fix my car, the only sound surrounding us being the music from Eddie's radio. Once homework was completed I started on a piano lesson plan for Joanna Kelly, a girl who lived down the street from us, I gave her parents a discount given how nice they were to myself and Dustin growing up. 

When that was over, I slyly pulled out a math notebook and began to work out my expenses. Eddie could try and sugarcoat it as much as he wants, but I knew this service wasn't going to be cheap. I mean, needing to get replacement parts? It's got to cost at least $2000+, which is definitely more than I make teaching kids how to play twinkle twinkle and three blind mice. I'd landed a job over the summer at the Hawkins Hypnotic Record Store, but only as a way to save up for college.

Now I'll have to apply for scholarships if I want any hope of getting into somewhere decent. That meant taking on more extracurriculars and writing a killer college essay. 

Ms Kelly had advertised on the intercom the other week about finding someone to help out in the front office for extra credit. Looks like I was going to be taking her up on it.

 I'm barely going to have time to breathe let alone sleep. 

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Listening to Eddie banging and crashing around the car had me nervous, but only a small bit. Eddie knew what he was doing, his uncle didn't seem like the kind of guy to give Eddie a job based on familial connections. 

Suddenly Eddie comes flying out from under the car, grease and oil covering his face and sweat glistening along his arms, his tattoos practically shining. 

I was so wrapped up in my own thoughts about how much this was going to cost me that I didn't even notice him talking to me. 

"Hey, Y/n?" He asked with a touch of confusion, "Hellooo?" 

My head snapped to look at him, his voice bringing me to my senses.

"Sorry, I was lost in my own mind. Worrying about stuff y'know?"

He rubbed the grease off his face with a cloth and a soft grin, his eyes closed. I took this moment to examine him a bit further. He looked like he had strong arms, and his tattoos were kinda impressive and cool. I heard he paid his friend a 3 months supply of weed, and they did them with a pin and some type of ink. 

But I don't know if any of that is real.

"What does a pretty girl like you have to be worrying about?" 

Pretty girl.

The words bounced around my stomach before settling between my thighs. I squeezed them together as if on instinct, the words rolling over my skin like waves.

I remained silent, not too sure how to answer that, my mind was blank as I tried to ignore the sudden throbbing I felt.

A few moments pass by and Eddie sits up and looks at me, his hair coming loose from the hair tie.

"Hey, could you pass me the wrench? It's on the counter over there, it's the one with the round-"

"I know what a wrench looks like Eddie, I'll grab it now," I said shuffling around to the counter to look for it, silently loving the way his name felt on my tongue

5, maybe 6 minutes pass, and I've no luck. I had handed him a wrench, but apparently, it wasn't the right wrench. So now I was back staring at a workspace full of stupid tools with stupid names. 

I hadn't even heard Eddie come up behind me until I felt his breath. 

"Here, let me help" He spoke softly, "It's the least I can do,"

I wanted to tell him that he was fixing my car, and it was the least I  could do to find the stupid wrench when suddenly his hand was on my waist as he moved to step beside me. His fingertips brushed off me like tiny flames searing into the exposed skin, and I knew what was coming next.

I tried to resist it, believe me. But I can't help it. I've never been able to, it's my number one weakness. I pulled my bottom lip between my teeth as I braced myself.

His fingers trailed along the base of my back. I managed to suppress the moan, but that was about it. Like always I arched my back and jerked sideways in a fit of the most unattractive laughs you can picture. 

Eddie didn't have to pull his hand away, I had already squirmed from his grip as he looked at me stunned. A toothy grin formed on his face as he crossed his arms. 

"What was that?" He said laughing slightly.

Looking at him laugh made me laugh more. It was like someone flipped my giddy switch. I turned to the countertop and bent over on it, determined to catch my breath with my hands clasped behind my head. 

"Oh god," I said breathlessly, "I'm sorry, I just have a really ticklish back."

I couldn't see his face, but when he spoke he whispered, 

"Heh, yeah," He said lowly, "That's definitely a first. I'll try not and accidentally tickle you in the future." I felt like he was grinning, but I was too embarrassed now to even look him in the eye. 

I nearly made a potential sex noise in front of Eddie Munson. 

After a bit of silence, I hear him say "Found it, it was a torque wrench I was looking for, sorry for the confusion."

His voice had become very soft, and once again we were wrapped in silence, only now it wasn't uncomfortable.

As the day went on, and while I was fretting over how I was going to pay for my car and most of the house bills, a few people came in to drop off their cars, barely exchanging words with the guy classed as the town freak. Eddie didn't look too bothered as they tossed him their keys before turning on their heel and walking away, but something told me deep down it annoyed him.

But what could I do? I doubt he'd want any consolation from me, he barely knows me. 

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Well, from the looks of things, the repairs shouldn't take more than 3 to 4 weeks. Maybe 5." He told me, which downhearted me slightly, I mean a whole month without my car? Maybe more? That was a whole month getting the bus to school, adding an extra touch of hell onto the day. 

"Oh, okay. Would you be able to give me a rough idea of the price? It's ok if you can't, I really appreciate you doing this for me." I gave him a slight smile and watched curiously as he looked to the ground and walked behind the counter. He almost looked nervous. 

"It's not going to be cheap, as you probably guessed, but luckily for you," He released a breath that sounded like he had been holding onto it for a while, resting his fist underneath his face "Flattery works with me." 

I gave a small chuckle, relieved that he was easing the tension. 

"I'll write up a docket next time you're here, we can sort something out then." He said calmly, moving to sit back in his chair. Meanwhile, my heart had started beating a mile a minute. 

"Next time I'm here?" I asked curiously

"Yeah, next time you're free and I'm working on your car. It's kind of nice to have someone around who appreciates good music," He was flipping through papers on the countertop, and I was praying he didn't look up anytime soon and see the mixture of surprise and confusion on my face. He looked at the clock on the wall behind him and I saw that I had spent the whole day here, and it was almost 9 pm. 

"C'mon it's getting late. Plus now you definitely can't walk home, it's too dark. My car is parked out front, I'll give you a lift." He pulled his keys off the rack and threw on his jacket that he took in from the back of the van earlier. 

"Um, thanks. Means a lot." And suddenly I was back to tripping over my words in front of him. 

He likes having me around?

He appreciates my music taste? 

Edward Munson, what are you doing to me?

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part one part two part three part four part five part six part seven

#eddie x y/n #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson stranger things #eddie the freak munson #eddie stranger things #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie x reader #eddie x you #stranger things eddie #stranger things eddie munson #stranger things #slow burn #friends to lovers

[strawberryvanillablast]

Vento Innocente AU: Family

@echoing-heartbeats

@mrsgiovanna

@briagiovanna

@starry-blue-echoes

"Mom, mom," A small girl cries, pointing at something. "Look! Look! Look!"

Giorno looks at what she's pointing while her mother(?) just smiles and nods. He doesn't know why, but he feels something tugging at his heart. He just sits and stares while the little girl is jumping really happily. He bites the inside of his cheek as that feeling still tugs into his heart.

He tries to remember what his mom looks like. He closes his eyes and thinks about what she would look like, what she would sound like. His mind tries to imagine but all he got was a weird fuzziness in his mind. So then, he would try to imagine what she would probably look like.

'Let's see,' He thought to himself. 'She would have gold hair like me with the same eyes. She'd be happy, nice, making me feel at home, with hugs and kisses and...'

"Alright, Giorno," Mr. Koichi says. "Let's get going." His face softens. "Hey, what's wrong?"

"Oh, sorry, Mr. Koichi," Giorno replies as brightly as he could. "I was just thinking about what my mom looks like. I don't know what she looks like and I was just having fun."

"Oh, I see," Mr. Koichi nodded. "Do you remember anything about her yet? Or anything about your memories at all?"

"No." Giorno shook his head sadly.

"It's okay," Mr. Koichi patted his arm. "I'm sure you'll remember her!"

"Okay, if you say so!" Giorno quickly smiled, not wanting to worry Mr. Koichi.

.

Koichi sighed as Giorno watched TV. Of course, he'd be asking about his family and all that. He didn't know why, but he had a feeling there was something off about Giorno's home life. After all, why would he'd steal from passengers for money? The cynical answer was because a need for stealing. But another answer was that it was a necessity.

It wasn't helping the fact that Echoes Act 1 was unusually doting on Giorno, chirping and resting on Giorno's lap like a cat.

Perhaps he could ask Jotaro for more information about Giorno? It'd seemed like there was more at play here than just Giorno's hair being completely different overnight.

"Mr. Koichi," Giorno asked, looking now at Koichi's luggage. "What are all those things?"

"Oh, those show what's inside my suitcase." Koichi explained. It was a fun time showing Giorno and explaining what they were to the boy. It wasn't until the end of the explanation that Giorno was curious about something.

"Who's Mr. Jotaro?"

"Oh, Jotaro is my friend's nephew," Koichi explained. "He told me to come to Italy to meet you."

"But how does he know me?" Giorno asked innocently.

Oh.

Oh, this was going to be a challenging thing to answer. Koichi didn't want to lie, but at the same time didn't want to traumatize Giorno as well.

"Well, he knew your dad from a long time ago," Koichi tried to explain. "He told me to find you to keep an eye on you." Well, that wasn't really a lie. "Only I didn't know this would happen."

"I see," Giorno hummed thoughtfully. "So, Mr. Jotaro knows my dad?"

"Yeah," Koichi nodded. "And you two look really alike. So, that's why I thought you two were related somehow..."

"So, if Mr. Jotaro knows my dad and if we look alike," Giorno's eyes sparkled. "Then, that could mean we're a family."

...

There were not enough words in the dictionary, Japanese or Italian, for Koichi to understand how Giorno could come to that conclusion. But he wasn't going to ruin Giorno's temporary happiness on this.

Besides, it could be possible.

Anything was possible when you're a Stand user.

"Oh, Mr. Koichi," Giorno smiled happily. "I can't wait to meet Mr. Jotaro soon!"

'I can't wait, either.' Koichi thought to himself.

.

Somewhere else, Jotaro looked around. Someone was talking about him about something interesting. That could've meant one thing.

'Josuke is out doing something reckless with Okuyasu again.'

.

"Ah, Mr. Koichi," Giorno shyly asked. "Would you want to be my family too?"

"...Yeah," Koichi smiled, gently rubbing Giorno on the head, mindful of his head wound. "I would be more than happy to be part of your family."

#jojo bizarre adventure #jojo's bizzare adventure #jojo kimyou na bouken #jojo no kimyō na bōken #jojo no kimyou na bouken #jjba part 5 #jojo part 5 #vento aureo #golden wind #vento innocente #vento innocente au #giorno giovanna #koichi hirose #jotaro kujo #josuke higashikata mentioned #okuyasu nijimura mentioned

[allthemusic]

Week ending: 16 April 1953

Another week, another set of songs. Will there be anything as deliciously weird as Little Red Monkey?

Somebody Stole My Gal - Johnnie Ray (peaked at No. 6)

I didn't know this song, but I do quite like it. It's not rock and roll, but there's at least something a bit more lively about it, a certain ragtime / swing vibe that keeps you on your toes. Turns out this was originally a 1918 popular song, which is pretty wild.

Johnnie's singing about how brokenhearted he is, but honestly, he sounds pretty chipper throughout, and that's without the classic Cockney piano opening (seriously, it just needs an "oi" after the piano run leading into the start of the song). Quite a lighthearted offering.

The "didn't wanna lose her" section is particularly bubbly, with the piano in the background jazzing it up. I just can't buy that Johnnie is actually "pretty broken up" (perhaps because he's just not that into gals, generally?)

We do get our first instance of "gee", "lonesome" and "buddy", all of which make this feel very American to me, in a charming, mid-century sort of way. I do like a song where people are "lonesome".

I also like Johnnie Ray's voice in this, he's got the range and the charm for the song, and it does work very well for him. He can do big and sweeping, without it sounding overdone.

I Believe - Frankie Laine (peaked at No. 1)

Is it possible to not know this song? This is the first proper, massive song on the list, a song that you can't help but kind of know, somewhere in the back of your mind. And what a strange song - I can't think of many other songs like it that have the same epic, hymn-like quality.

As you might expect, it's got a backstory; written after the outbreak of the Korean War, it was deliberately written as a way of restoring hope to listeners, and pointing out what's good about the world. Which is a very expansive brief for a song to have, and kind of justifies the big bombastic approach that I've otherwise been scathing about. With a love song, the "listen to me belt the final note" approach is too much, but for a song with such huge subject matter as this, anything else would be insulting.

Aside from the vocal delivery, the music is hymnlike and steady, building to a big crescendo while a guitar strums steadingly in the background, backing singers give off a vaguely ghostly "ooh" and some brass comes in underneath it all.

I want to mock the lyrics for being cliché or trite, but honestly, I do quite like them, they paint an image of hope in dark times: "I believe for every drop of rain that falls a flower grows / I believe that somewhere in the darkest night a candle glows". There's rain, and darkness, but there's hope in that - the rain has a purpose, the dark has a light. There's hope, even when the world seems difficult and confusing.

Throughout, it's suggested heavily that the hope is God, but it's never stated outright, which is canny. It lets just about anyone project meaning onto the song. It's spiritual, but not quite religious: "I believe for everyone who goes astray / Someone will come to show the way" "I believe that someone in the great somewhere hears every word".

And ultimately, the belief that the person has is grounded in little, beautiful, relatable things: "Every time I hear a newborn baby cry or touch a leaf or see the sky / Then I know why I believe." It's a nice idea, the sort that I really don't think you could get off nowadays, and I genuinely think music is possibly worse for it? I don't know, I just like how earnestly sentimental this song is, and also how confident it is in its own scope.

Though, a cynical part of me wants to point out that "look at the pretty babies and leaves" is not a sufficient response to somebody saying "I'm bummed out by my country getting into more pointless imperialist wars after World War II barely ended". Sure, it's a pretty song with some pretty ideas, and it did get to Number One, but I don't know how much actual comfort this song was for people, or how it would have landed - I'd love to be able to travel back in time and ask!

Either way, at the end of the day, I do actually quite like this song. I think it's still powerful, and it's a message we all can engage with and have thoughts about, even if we don't necessarily agree with it. It's hopeful, and well-intentioned, and the scale of it actually feels earned, unlike with some big songs of this era.

And there we have it. A forgotten Johnnie Ray track and a Frankie Laine classic that I didn't expect to enjoy quite as much as I did.

Favourite song of the bunch: I Believe

#uk charts #1953 #johnnie ray #frankie laine

[nox-artemis]

Entry #2:

They know that my favorite holiday is Halloween.

(I mean, technically it's Walpurgisnacht, but that holiday isn't nearly as popular as Halloween so whatever goes I guess.)

I always enjoyed talking to this friend (from here on out they'll be referred to as J.G. and I'll use they/them pronouns to obscure their identity) but admittedly I don't think they reciprocated my feelings. Eighty percent of the time it was always me starting the conversations. It bugged me a lot even if I tried not to over think it. I'd even try to dish out the same treatment by not being the first one to message them for any reason. A lot of the times it'd fail. It's true about this sort of behavior being a red flag in a failing relationship: if you're the initiator and you fail to do so, you'll never hear a word from them.

Interestingly, when me and J.G. met up in real life, the opposite happened, I was kind of expecting it because I do this with my other friends as well. I talk a lot more online than I do in real life. Part of it is due to my introverted nature while the other part is due to my insecurities (people have always teased me for talking "weird" so I try not to talk anymore than I have to). I can't also deny that I didn't talk much because I wanted to "behave" in front of J.G.: I didn't want to say the wrong thing or sound weird or sound as needy as I did online or whatever (the only times I did, to my awareness, was when I was tipsy and let my tongue slip on some stuff; I didn't drink a lot before hanging out with J.G. and I'm learning that I don't have a high alcohol tolerance. Since this whole ghosting saga I've found that I'm more open to alcohol's company, though).

J.G. on the other hand ended up being a bit more interactive: they'd show me memes on their phone (even while they were driving, even while I was reading; the latter would have annoyed me with any other person or occasion but it didn't then), take us to their favorite restaurants and points of interest they'd think I'd enjoy also. The parts I enjoyed the most though was when we were in bed and J.G. would just talk to me about stuff from their life, about indigenous legends from their tribe(s). I liked that sort of intimacy because it was like they were really letting me in for once, and it didn't feel like they were doing so because I was trying to get them to talk to me.

Of course, the cynic I've become now wants me to believe J.G. only did all that as a courtesy (i.e. "I'll speak up now so she won't try to pry later").

I felt a little better about this weird interactive equilibrium when I came home: maybe I would just be the talkative party online while J.G. would be the talkative party IRL. Obviously that arrangement wasn't meant to last.

I will say that on the rare occasion that J.G. did talk to me first online, they'd send me Halloween related posts. As most people aware in today's age, capitalism imposes that the sale of Halloween goods begins in late July/early August (which is "nice" but that only means all of the good stuff is gone before September and before all of the good sales and actual autumn begins). Naturally when I came back home from visiting them, the Halloween goods were coming in en masse.

They hardly ever initiated conversations with me - and in hindsight, why be in a relationship with someone who doesn't *want* to talk to you, even if they repetitively made claims implying the opposite? - but when they did (typically by just sending me premade meme stuff) they made sure to make it a good impression (on even rarer occasions they'd share a Berserk meme).

Again, it could be more of a love-bombing type thing (i.e. "I'll send her stuff she particularly likes now so she'll leave me alone later"), but it's August again so Halloween stuff is up and abound. I wonder if J.G. is compelled to think of me more nowadays, no matter how apathetic their thoughts are of me.

#break up diary #breakup diary #personal #yes this is a series now #a series of despair

[onewomancitadel]

If you had to pinpoint one single text, person, or other noun that made you decide to start writing - what would you say it was?

If you have multiple feel free to share, of course.

Aww hi Lar (: hope you are doing well... let me think.

Well, I started writing when I was a teenager, both prose and poetry. I had attempted one short story when I was twelve because of a dream.

I never really thought of it as something I was ever going to be good at or be something I did a lot of or in fact ever call myself a writer lol. I still think it's weird how it's overtaken my spare time and it's something I've found is my real interest in the past couple of years - I had a gap where I didn't write. I have learnt a lot about myself in the past few years especially in letting myself enjoy the things I actually like, which is sort of a different post if I'm feeling particularly self-absorbed. But maybe that's helpful for other people because again, I never thought of myself as a writer or that it was something I was allowed to like/enjoy. I was a reader and a drawer.

This might sound a bit weird but I actually started really thinking about the craft of writing in recent years when I began to really study academic styles I enjoyed and I began to read Philippa Foot, who is my favourite philosopher (contemporary virtue ethicist). Her style of writing is extremely clear and however much philosophy might seem opaque, she really isn't. Another writer I particularly admire is Philomen Probert, not a philosopher but a British Classicist and linguist whose historical linguistics work is, again, extremely accessible and clear. Her writing is similarly inspiring. Anyway, obviously this isn't creative writing... but I do think of creative writing as being argumentative, in a fashion, and I also think trying to figure out what your voice actually sounds like really felt like it needed a comprehensive approach (for me anyway).

I obviously disagree that fiction should be didactic, so that's not really the takeaway ironically enough; in this case it's more to do with the style of communication. It was very freeing to shake off the way I felt I 'should' write and instead start writing in a way which I think is more direct. That I didn't really find that in fiction itself is interesting, but I might attribute that more to the fact, let's say, the way I see it is that fiction is the end product and those writers I mentioned are the input.

Also, I think what influenced my writing in recent years is my ancient language studies and the craft of language used there.

So, my path to getting more in writing is not really direct. I wrote a lot of bad poetry and a lot of bad prose when I was a teenager (I'm in my early twenties now so maybe not a lot of room for afterthought; my writing could still carry the vestiges of teenage melodrama, lol). Like, I really mean it, I'm not being ungenerous here about myself. A lot of what inspired that was because I just read a lot and I read frequently and I wanted to see if I could do that too, and I think that sort of enthusiasm is a good thing. I think in reading my old poetry in particular I can see what I was going for - even some good lines here and there - but the key issue I could see was the derivative tone - and this is fine, this is something every writer goes through, you see something you want to emulate so you emulate it, and I was big on e.e. cummings - and also the complete lack of poetic theory and an ear for how poetry should sound. I really began to care about that when I studied ancient poetry.

I put that down for a while. There was a gap of a couple of years where I didn't write. Again, I still never thought of it as something I did. I had some thoughts about things and some story concepts I wanted to work on but they always had the pressure of what I 'should' be writing and what's reasonable. You know why I write a lot about cynical storytelling? Because I felt that pressure myself and it was stifling. It made me feel silly, it made the things I cared about feel silly. Obviously I'm sensitive and overly emotional and afraid of other people judging me so that contributes to things, but on the other hand I think creative expression is pretty much the one place you're allowed to be yourself.

So in terms of picking up writing again, there were a lot of writers and thinking about my academic writing which influenced it, taking Greek and Aramaic, lots of other people online who were inspiring - the Reylo fandom is full of creative, honest and compassionate people - and also generally thinking about writing from a technical perspective and what I think is or isn't successful. Like, I maintain that prose is character and also theme and there's a lot you can achieve with the technicality of the language itself, and in classes I took at uni and generally speaking in writing spheres I encountered an attitude that prose is ultimately secondary and it needs to seen, not heard; that it should be minimal and elided. So I obviously have a bone to pick with that.

I ended up picking up writing again mostly because I began to figure out what I liked and because I had a bone to pick, and I had read a lot which inspired me and made me think I was ready to figure out what I wanted to write. I write prose much more than I write poetry now but I still like poetry. So I would really attribute my writing journey to being a personal journey and I would also say that, as you can see, thinking about things from a technical perspective inspires me emotionally and creatively. That's why I spend a lot of time doing it. It's also just a joy.

So maybe not one writer in particular, and not so much an easy answer as one would hope. It's also hard because there are a lot of authors I like and very influential books for me (I mean, when you're fourteen The Picture of Dorian Gray feels lifechanging to the stuff you're forced to read at school) and I've mentioned once or twice the first poetry I read (Neruda) and that kind of thing.

But I think really being argumentative, opinionated, and caring about things, and really just liking the craft of articulating ideas is why I picked up writing again. I have also mentioned I'm working on some original work obviously and that's chugging along in the background because, again: bone to pick.

I'm still not sure if I would think of myself as a writer-writer. On the front of fanfic, which is obviously the focus here, it's much more relaxed and is really just about my passion. (This is why I hate being told what to do, also I have a lot of opinions about things I dislike personally and that's why I write). It's obviously a fannish activity which I would consider distinct from original work. When it comes to Jaune/Cinder, it's a unique intersection of things I have loved (and have had difficulty letting myself enjoy) and I also feel comfortable expressing my ideas about them because the fandom is not big. I have a lot of issues. Also, when it comes to the actual craft of romance and redemption arcs, I have a lot of opinions quite evidently.

I really write just because I enjoy it, that's why I intend to only put out my original work as just a .pdf/ebook on my blog or something like that. It's just something I have to do. I don't think of it as a livelihood and it will never be that for me. (I'm not judging other people who see it that way).

I hope that's an interesting answer anyway. My takeaway for being inspired to write is being full of opinions and needing to prove something.

#seraphina's asks #user: lareanzo #me not sure what to tag #my silly little stories

[deathwishdaydream]

Dear Universe, Up Yours!

Chapter 3

I think my problem is my impatience. I'm not good to be around people and I reject everybody because they won't do the things that I expect them to do in every bitter encounter. That was why I didn't have any friends or planned to make any. It didn't make me feel good to spit crude remarks and rejection promptly in everyone's faces, but it didn't make me feel any guilt or pity either. I was just numb to it, which was probably why it was so simple for me to make people go away. I know that whole reaction might be bad. That this tragic apathy was far from normal. That maybe I could be some sort of cynical, inept sociopath. It makes sense, sort of. Though, I feel like if that was really the case, then why did I continue talking to Gerard? Apologize to him for my behavior and possessing authentic sympathy? Especially frantically attempting to endure the conversation as much as I could, as if my brain would straight up detonate if the atmosphere, even for just a few seconds, had been entirely devoid of his voice. Why did I care so much? It was like I was holding myself at gunpoint and I didn't know why. But maybe everything was so simple and I just genuinely wanted someone to talk to. But I don't think I want to believe that. And I don't think I could if I even wanted to. I tried to imagine this sort of interaction with everybody else in my head, and I knew it would just end in revulsion and intolerance. I didn't want them. I wanted Gerard. But I don't know why. I've never had a full and abundant conversation with anyone but myself, if that even counts. I've never had a conversation where I wanted it to last. Which was why everything felt like uncharted territory.

But I like being alone.

I looked at the boy who had been beside me.

I liked being alone...

He looked at me once he noticed my eyes on him. That shy, small baby face giving a look of interest and question.

I think I want somebody's presence.

I got out of whatever trance I was in, took the headphones off my neck, brought them over my head, and handed the pair back to him. He grabbed it with ease, thanking me, and put it back around his neck. I nodded in response to his gratitude because I'd rather not say it. Then I paused before I would say anything at all right now, trapped in thought. And the idea of leaving this place had preciously lingered in my fucked-up mind.

"Did you drive your car here to school?" I asked him, referring to how he'd drive me to the convenience store after school.

"Oh, um, yeah," Gerard replied rather stiffly. When he would talk so briefly, he sounded a bit weird. His voice would usually only get clearer in longer sentences.

"Okay," I replied quietly. But then I thought again for a brief moment. I wanted something and I knew exactly what it was.

"I wanna go now."

"What?" Gerard asked, perceptibly caught off guard. It wasn't an immediate response; his eyes were the first to respond before any words had come out.

I let out a prolonged breath. "I want to leave. I want to go now."

"You mean, ditch school?" There was a minor hint of panic in his voice, but overall, and somehow, he still seemed calm. I think it was his lips or eyebrows that gave me that placid impression. Anyways, I'm sure there wouldn't be any kind of dreadful consequence if we had ditched. But I wasn't really sure what Gerard cared about, after seeing his reaction. It couldn't really have been school. Maybe his dignity? Maybe guilt had just swallowed him whole, and has been for a long time.

"Yes," I answered plainly, neglecting his pitiful apprehension. "Do you want me to be more specific? I want us to go outside and climb the fence, go to the parking lot, get your fucking car, and drive away to the convenience store." It was enunciated quite slowly as if I was explaining to a child what they shouldn't put in their mouth. It was a bit hard not to baby him with that soft face and voice.

"I don't know if I ca-"

I interrupted him without even thinking. "What are your parents like? Are they strict, are they neglectful?"

"They're... fine," he responded timidly.

"So how would they react if they found out you ditched?" I asked, watching his face adjust to his cogitating psyche. I tried to imagine how Gerard would get punished. Would they take away his music or something?

"They'd ask if I had a reason for it. If it's valid enough, they'll let it go. They're not that strict," he explained bashfully, once more. He wasn't embarrassed, though. He was intimidated. By me.

I took a deep breath, trying to think things through, without considering if he still wanted to leave at this moment. "Okay. Then here's the deal: you tell them that I was sick and I had to go home but my 'neglectful' parents wouldn't pick me up, so you offered to. And instead, you'll take me to the store, let me buy myself the shit I want, then you take me home." I elaborated, seeing Gerard raise his eyebrows in uncertainty. "You could go back to the school if you want or just do whatever you want after that."

There was something on his mind about this because I could see his hesitation while attempting to speak. "Are... your parents really neglectful?" he asked incredibly gingerly.

"No, they're... well, they're fine, I guess," I replied, giving the same response that he gave almost a minute ago. "The only thing they neglect is conflict, though." I muttered, being brought back to the times they've told me to just let things go. Whenever I look back on my parents and their whole carefree agenda, it kind of pisses me off. "But anyways, do you agree with the plan?"

"Do you... really have to go to the store right now?" he asked cautiously, trying his best not to offend or anger me. He caught on to my galling behavior.

"I just don't want to be here," I said dismally, looking at him, and I knew I had this sort of self-pity expression going on because all at once, I had felt all the muscles in my face just give up. "Do you?"

He paused, the silence becoming even louder than the chattering of students in the cafeteria, as I desperately anticipated his profound reply. "Well... No," he finally answers. Good.

"Okay," I began calmly, nodding my head. "Then let's fucking go," I urged,

[ "At the Hop"  by Danny & The Juniors playing]

standing up from my seat, the same dinner table style, and marched urgently towards the door that would lead to the fields outside. Gerard had quickly got up at the same time, grabbed his backpack, and followed. I pushed the door open and walked across the field and pavement, among everyone else, heading to the gap between the two separate facility buildings, where the narrow gate to utter freedom would be. I felt a presence behind me and immediately knew that it was Gerard, as he had finally caught up with me. We both gazed dubiously at the elegant gate in front of us. It wasn't really a challenge at all to climb, but it was mildly formidable, if I were to be honest.

"You have your car keys ready?" I asked, feeling a rush of adrenaline as I saw his hands reach in his pocket to pull out his keys. He jingled them in front of me and I actually smiled at this.

I then gripped the gate's black bars. I looked at Gerard and nodded and jumped up, climbing the gate as I moved each hand up, trying to keep my feet glued to the bars until I went to the top and jumped from there to the other side. It was a bit tiring, I've got to admit. There were some dumbfounded looks from the other kids that were out in the quad, which is why I needed Gerard to go faster. He started to climb it, the keys in between his teeth, and reached the top, jumping down on the ground next to me. He then took the keys in his hands again.

"Hurry," I urged and ran as he followed, reaching the huge parking lot. "Which one's your car, man?" There was an overwhelming amount of vehicles, though you could easily tell that the bright crimson sporty one was a jock's precious baby.

"The silver one," he called out, running somewhere in the maze of a parking lot. It was weirdly set up, so it caused a lot of traffic in the morning.

"There's literally fifty fucking silver cars here, Gerard!" I shouted in frustration, my eyes trailing to each silver vehicle in range, but he seemed to have found his car once he stopped by one, and was able to get inside. I ran towards him and opened the passenger seat door of his, what appeared to be, a Subaru XT, getting inside and sitting on the gray fabric of the seat. It weirdly had the 'new car smell' but I was pretty sure he was gifted this last year. I landed on something weird that interfered with how I was sitting, but I ignored it to shut the door. Gerard was in the driver's seat, the door closed already, and turned the key in the ignition switch, starting the engine. We both put on our seatbelts, nearly in unison, and Gerard had begun to back up the car. Curious about what I was sitting on, I slightly got up from my seat and grabbed whatever was below me, slipping it out and placing it on my lap. They were two Marvel comics. Holy shit.

"You're a nerd!" I chuckled, looking at the finely detailed covers, then at him, his side profile as his eyes were preoccupied to get us out of the parking lot. He looked embarrassed and had gulped as we finally drove outside of the school campus. "Spiderman's my favorite," I added, placing the comics in the glove compartment, then opening my window after.

I then saw him smile modestly in pleasure. I could see the relief in his eyes. He was probably judged before for this. "Likewise," he said simply.

I grinned clumsily at his response. It was weird how many times I have smiled today. I don't think I've ever felt actual, bona fide exuberance before. The feelings rush throughout my body, feelings I thought I could never obtain if I remained in this town any longer.

The drive wasn't very talkative, though. Probably because I wasn't the talkative kind of person, and neither was Gerard. But it was pretty short anyway, so the silence wasn't agitating at all. I felt the frigid wind hysterically enter through my open window, striking my face delicately. It was a different sort of breeze I felt before, compared to the one back at school. This felt appeasing. And over time, I'd take a glance at Gerard. He was smiling. Actually smiling. He looked proud, it was a cheeky, wide smile. And I think that was the first time I saw him genuinely smile. And it was inarguably stunning.

Imminently, we arrived at a convenience store by the gas station and he parked at the front, switching off the engine afterward. I took off my seatbelt and breathed softly, looking at him, being reminded of what was actually going on.

[ "At the Hop"  stops playing]

I recalled in my head what I had said to him before: "You'll take me to the store, let me buy myself the shit I want, then you take me home." I then knew that this would end after. Hanging out with Gerard, I mean. Then everything might just go back to normal the next day. I wasn't primarily sure I wanted that to happen.

I opened the door and got out of the car, slamming it closed. I then kneeled down to the open window, looking at him. "You coming?" I asked.

"Oh, I don't uh need to get anything," he said daintily, yet his eyes were beaming. "Un-unless you want me to come with-" he reached for the handle of his door instantly, feeling like he had messed up again. It was never him, though. I just had stupid outbursts for no apparent reason.

"It's fine," I interrupted before he could even pull on the door handle. He nodded graciously, and reluctantly dropped his left hand from the handle, placing it on his thigh. "I won't be long," I said, walking toward the doors of the convenience store, hearing my shoes lightly tap on the sidewalk. I was a bit angry at myself, I think. I didn't want Gerard to feel sulkily obligated to make me content so I don't immoderately lash out at him again. I don't want to anymore, no matter what he does. I just don't want him to leave me alone because of it.

I opened the narrow convenience store's door, hearing the small jingle of the bell that had been attached to it, and then stepped inside. I began to aimlessly walk around, going through most of the shelves and skimming its products. I grabbed bubble gum, then beef jerky. I found Coca-Cola cans by the fridge area, next to the revolting Coke II's, scoffing at the sight of them. Who had the moronic idea to make a second coke? It tastes like watered-down coke with extra sugar. It was exactly like Pepsi if it had as much sugar as Coke. I grabbed two cans of the original Coke instead and a bag of chips. I then went to the register to pay for everything.

"Would you like to pay extra for a bag?" The cashier asked cordially, moving her front strand of black hair behind her ear. She had to wear this tacky store uniform with the bright colors that had matched the gas station logo. I felt bad for her once I saw it blind my eyes. I wonder if her boss was one of those obnoxious peppy business people.

"No thanks," I finally replied, lacking emotion after handing her the money for the stuff I bought. "Keep the change." I opened one of the items I bought and put it in my left front pocket, throwing away the packaging. Just wanted to be safe if I wanted to actually run away one day. I would leave alone, right?

I gathered all the other stuff, pushed the store door, and walked out to Gerard's car, opening its door and getting inside. Closing it shut, with all the items I bought on my lap, I sighed, looking at the store through the car window in front of me. Shit.

My peripheral vision had caught Gerard looking at me. I think he was worried that I didn't say anything yet. "You- You got everything you needed?" he asked.

I nodded, lacking any words. I felt something wrong, which was why I couldn't speak. I needed to think.

"What's your address? Should I take you home now, then?"

I closed my eyes and sighed deeply. Fuck this.

Everything, especially with my feelings, happened so abysmally sudden. Now I felt like I didn't want to be alone anymore. But I also still felt the necessity of me being alone too. I had mixed feelings, I felt so confounded, in a dilemma. I think I might just want to be alone, but maybe with Gerard. I found him interesting at first and I felt like... he was an answer. An answer to a question I didn't even know, at least yet. My mind was scrambled and nonsensical. I then thought about all those times I was sitting on the bench at the park, my feet reaching the keen grass, drenched with dew, or even feeling the brown crisp dirt. And how I wanted something more in life. I think that right now was my only chance, the only time I could escape. And Gerard was an outlet, a passage. I hesitantly opened my eyes. And I felt a wave of ridiculous dismay.

"I don't wanna go home."

I turned my head and finally faced him, frowning as I felt my eyes soften. The same, unintentional self-pity face I couldn't control. Gerard gulped. He was probably so confused. I get it. "Okay," he breathes and pauses. "W-where do you wanna go?"

And it was all so simple. "Anywhere but here."

"Okay," he replied, starting the engine.

He backed up from the parking spot and drove away. I looked at the view in front of me after we pulled out. The road, the dull-colored buildings, the bright traffic lights that stood out in the gray. I think we were leaving. We were leaving this place, and it felt particularly bittersweet.

"You okay?" he asks, which catches me off guard. Oh.

"I'm, um, fine. You?" I answered. I think I was. I do feel that way.

"Yeah," he replied. "I'm good."

Or maybe Gerard sees something that I couldn't. I feel fine. Why does he have to ask? What was the point?

"I'm just gonna get something from my house, that fine?" he added, allowing me to patently relinquish those foolish thoughts. I instead, wondered what his place looked like. Maybe his house was pretty short or something.

I then nodded to his answer him. "Yeah,"

He drove to his house and we arrived at a small neighborhood. There weren't any cars present in the driveway of his house. And I was right. It was a short house. It was surrounded by a stubby brick gate and there were plenty of thin stairs that would lead to the front door.

"Your parents aren't home?" I questioned, raising my eyebrows, scanning around his front yard and the houses around his through the window.

"Yeah, they're um probably grocery shopping," he said, turning off the engine after he had parked perfectly on the side. It was a random detail, but Gerard was incredible at driving. But I wasn't sure how credible that was, since I couldn't even drive myself.

"Can I come?" I asked as I saw him look through his window, hand finally pulling on the door handle.

"Um, sure," he replied, getting out of the car, as I opened my door to follow.

We walked to the front door of the house and Gerard got his keys out, finding the right one and placing it into the lock. We both got inside once he was able to open the door and then he shut it behind me afterward. It was a pretty small, but cozy house. It kind of smelled like a thrift store in here.

"Just gonna get something from my room. Will be back shortly," he informed. His posture was a bit weird as he stood, though. Did he have, like, scoliosis or something?

"Yeah," I said in response. "Cool."

He walked up the stairs to the second floor, and I had a small look around while he was gone. There were some photographs of him and his parents, but also a younger boy. Except, the photo did look a little older, so Gerard could have been maybe 15 or 16 at that time. He looked super young though, even though this could have been taken a year or more ago. It was professionally taken, too, I was able to tell. I guess he was in one of those kind of families.

He came back from upstairs as I heard his soft footsteps, and appeared with a different jacket on this time, as well as a yellow and navy scarf draped over his neck. It was true, he came back pretty quick. He was holding at least three other cassette tapes in his left hand. He noticed me standing by the picture frames, then walked toward me.

"Who's that?" I asked him, pointing to the other boy in the photo that was beside him.

He coughed slightly. He was suddenly uncomfortable. "That's my brother," he answered, rather in a mumble. "He's... um, in Glendale,"

"No way, your brother lives in California?" I reacted quickly as he slowly nods in response. I bet California was nice. "That's cool," My attention switched instantly to the other cassettes he had in his hands. "What're all those?"

"Just some oldies and, um, Britpop," he stated, walking towards the front door. I followed him, and before he could even open the door, it twisted a few times until it opened from the other side. There were two adults, most definitely Gerard's parents. Shit.

The woman was blonde and looked older than I would expect. She had this kind of intimidating look on her thin face. She was wearing a rich amount of pasty makeup, but it had fit her very well. There was a hint of sass in her red lips and thick mascara. The man next to her, Gerard's father, wore small rectangular glasses, which had reminded me of Mr. Bradford. He had short brown hair, but not as dark as Gerard's since he was getting pretty old.

"Gee?" his mother asked in utmost bewilderment, taking a few steps inside. "No wonder why your car's outside. Shouldn't you be at school?" She had a very strong and marvelous Jersey accent. It sounded unreal. Then she looked at me for a while, examining me, then looked right back at Gerard, perplexed. "Who's this, your friend?" I think I froze.

"Umm, well," Gerard stuttered. He was uncertain and panicked, I could tell. He turned to look at me and his eyes had traveled to the door. I wasn't sure if this was some kind of incisive and unpremeditated signal, but I really hoped I have perceived it correctly.

"Well? Aren't you gonna tell us what's going on?" his father asked firmly, crossing his arms. It was a very 'dad thing' to do, with that whole stance.

Then so suddenly, Gerard pushed through his parents, running to his car, and I quickly followed, my heart beating rapidly. I heard his parents yell after him as we got inside the car, locking it immediately and he turned on the engine, anxiously looking back and forth at the ignition switch to his baffled parents outside and to the car dashboard. Everything was happening so quickly again. They had run after us, walking down those stumpy brick steps, and before they could even start banging on the car window, Gerard briskly drove away, tires screeching magnificently as he made a sharp U-turn. He was definitely extraordinary at driving. I was entertained at his sudden audaciousness as we pulled out of the neighborhood, back on the half-empty road.

He fetched one of the cassettes that were on his lap and tried to hand it to me as his eyes were crucially planted on the road. "Play something," he says simply, and I heard the smirk in his voice. He was satisfied to leave in such a matter. Without looking at what songs it included, I inserted the cassette into the deck and waited for something to start playing.

[ "Runaway"  by Del Shannon playing on car stereo]

I turned the volume a bit louder as a song started to play sweetly through the car's speakers. Gerard was smiling, the same true smile I saw before, as he looked straight ahead on the road and I smiled at him. I don't think I've cared at all about seeing someone I've met smile for the first time. It makes sense, it shouldn't be that important. But because of the kind of person Gerard was, it was so oddly valuable to me. I'd keep the memory of his significant beaming in the car that had occurred many minutes ago. This was important.

I felt like, as we drove away, we were heading into the sunset, the edge of the world, like one of those old, western movies from the 60s or 70s. Except, fuck the directors and creators of High Plains Drifter and Clint Eastwood for doing it. I've always had a hatred for that movie and its poor excuse of "that was what it was like by then" to include shitty and pointless scenes.

But more importantly, maybe more than anything right now, was that I felt the vicious weight of captivity no longer on my chest, and I completely felt free as we passed by our school and all the familiar, shitty buildings and shops that I hope I'd never see again.

"Is this it?" I asked ambiguously, but still so riant by our impulsive escape. I was still a bit wary about Gerard. I didn't know exactly if he wanted this. Sure, that smirk told me he felt good, but how would he feel when all the adrenaline wears out? However, this was the closest chance I had to leave this place immediately. I should only be concerned about myself and boisterously carry on. But Gerard has been making me feel absurdly strange ever since that lunch. I looked at him and his eyes and watched his hands artistically grip the steering wheel. "Are you gonna really run away with me? Your lab partner from school? You're really willing?"

"Sure," he said simply, turning his head to look at me with a smile, and just for a bit as his eyes went back on the road. It was a short response, but I knew in that grin that those words meant way more. "Fuck it, right?" Shit. I was pleased to hear him curse again. It was like he was gradually becoming comfortable around me. That he was completely okay.

"Yeah," I replied to him, watching everything pass by swiftly through the dusty window on my right. I took a quiet, yet fast and deep inhale, as if I had been underwater for so long, relieved and blissful as I exhaled smoothly. It felt good. I looked at Gerard again, to my left. And everything started to feel right. "Fuck it."

#gerard way x reader #gerard way #mcr fanfiction #mcr fic #mcr #my chemical romance #gender neutral fanfic #dear universe up yours

[wendystales]

Memories - lrh (Chapter Seventeen)

Memories (also on Wattpad)

Chapter Sixteen ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ Chapter Eighteen

Marnie pov.

I don't know if it was hangover or guilt, but my head was weighing a ton the morning after the party. Unlike everyone, I didn't wake up in a good mood, in fact I was pretty quiet at breakfast. Lucky for me, no one suspected anything, as the hangover gripped everyone there.

As yesterday was still Saturday and most had to work, I didn't have to run away from anyone. Since my plan had been in action since Monday, I took the day off to start packing up some things, trying to get everything as ready as possible.

For today, I had left only the final adjustments, like packing my suitcase and getting ready for my conversation with Luke.

The pain in my throat becomes more and more unbearable every time I hold back the cry. I fold up one of the band sweatshirts I have, watching the boys' faces, wanting to reinforce why I'm doing this.

I run my finger over Luke's face, as if I'm touching him. Friday's flashes flood my mind and I scold myself for nearly screwing it up out of sheer desire. Of course I wanted it as much as he did. Feel his touch, the desire and love he manages to emanate so naturally. I don't think I've ever felt so alive and so amazing in anyone's arms as in his, but it couldn't happen.

The doorbell snaps me out of my thoughts. I hurry downstairs, thinking it's Martin with the paperwork.

“Noah?" I give my friend room to enter. "Aren't you supposed to be at that lunch?" I check my watch and check the time, 1:37 PM. “Noah?” I call him, wondering at his frown.

"I wanted to come talk to you directly so we don't have any misunderstandings and to see if that way I can understand what this should mean." he hands me a folder. I open it quickly feeling my blood pressure drop. It was the paperwork I was waiting for. "What's this about moving to New York?"

"How did this get to you?" I try to control my breathing and head into the living room, feeling the urge to sit down. I start to think of a million excuses and ways not to have this conversation since it wasn't part of my plan.

“In case you also forgot, I work at the company. I am the owner's son and above that I am your advisor, everything that happens to you must pass through me at some point. Now tell me what this story is." I don't think I've ever seen Noah this angry.

“I received a job offer and decided to accept.” I know my voice has cracked, but I pray he doesn't notice. Noah stares at me for a few seconds with a more confused and displeased expression.

“I've known you for two years. You're going to have to try harder if you want to deceive me. Marnie, you just signed a rehearsal contract here in LA. If you got a proposal, you would know from me. Does this have to do with the fact that you're weird these days? What? Did you go without saying anything to anyone? That's it?” I remain silent, feeling everything go downhill from there. Slowly, a fury starts to build inside me. “Marnie, what's going on?”

It's not just the countless times I've heard this question throughout the week. I believe it's because I'm not in control of anything right now. About me being forced to do all this, not being able to tell my friend what's going on. All of this makes the question so much bigger and deeper than it really is. And it makes the fury that's brewing inside me grow.

“My God! Nothing! It's not happening anything. What a bag!” the scream breaks my mouth, coming out louder and angrier than I expected. “I am fine! When are you going to understand this?” he doesn't seem to be frightened by my scream, just standing there with his arms crossed and expressionless.

"Maybe when you stop lying and tell me what's going on?" he makes fun of me. A cynical laugh comes out of me as I go to open the door and ask him to leave my apartment. “You weren't like that, Marnie." I get irritated again. I can't explain where so much anger comes from, let alone contain it.

“Surprise, Noah, I'm like that. This is Marnie and always has been. Now if you don't like her, I can't do anything. Your ‘Marnie’ is gone and it's just me. And I'm going to New York whether you like it or not.” along with the anger, I feel like crying, but once again, I hold back with all my strength.

Noah nodded thoughtfully. I know it's a scene, that he's going to attack me again, he's just choosing his words.

“Then that's it? You mess it up, make everyone believe that everything is fine, and leave without warning. Is that what you're going to do?” the judgmental look bothers me.

"I didn't mess anything up."

“No?” he laughs falsely. "I don't say for myself or for the girls, but haven't you been giving a certain someone hope, making him believe you could get back together? And now you're going to go away and let him suffer without caring?” he raises his eyebrows.

I suck in the air harder, making it burn. The fire burns stronger inside me. The desire at the moment is to break everything.

“Do not do it.” my voice breaks. I close my eyes, pulling myself together. “Do not do it! Don't think I'm not suffering from having to make this decision either.” I can't hold back the tears, not caring about them anymore either.

“You're? Cuz it doesn't look like.” I close my hands, squeezing them tightly. I try to control the urge to scream, scream in hate, in anger, in pain and most of all, scream that he is being unfair to me.

“Of course I'm suffering.” once again I scream. "Do you think not?! Look at me! Do you think it doesn't hurt me to have to do all this?! Leave him here like this and not be able to do anything?! Of course it hurts. Why do you think I'm doing all this?! Because I love him! I love more than one day I thought it was possible to love someone. I'm doing it for him. But there's no easy way to do this, I don't have a choice.”

“Everyone has a choice, Marnie, you're just choosing the one you find easiest.”

"Does this sound easy to you?" I interrupt him, opening my arms, showing me. I dry my tears exhausted. “I made my choice and I appreciate if you respect. Now if you'll excuse me, I need to finish packing my bags.” I open the door for him.

My friend doesn't say anything else, just heads towards the door.

“Feel free to share my plan with the others.” I say tough.

“No! I will not do that. You made your decision, you did the shit and now deal with it.” Noah doesn't even wait for the elevator, taking the stairs.

I slam the door, feeling that anger still burn inside me. I rest my eyes on the wall where my photo is. I go to it, pulling out the wallpaper, tearing off part of the image. I'm not mad at Noah, I'm mad at myself, at the way it all went and where I went.

If I weren't a model, I could be living my life without any problems. Luke would still be the guy in the band I only knew one song about. I would be happy and free from all that pressure.

Still needing to release that anger, I grabbed the flower pots near the door, throwing what was left of my image against. My throat hurts from sobs and my heart clenches when that feeling arises.

““Wait, there's an eyelash.” I say to Luke, trying to catch it. “OK! Make a wish.” I lift my little finger at him.

He was about to take the stage at the Capital Summertime Ball. Luke stares at my finger thoughtfully and smiles, apparently determined.

“Be my girlfriend?” he sounds curious. I stare at his amused face, making sure he's kidding me.

“I'm serious.” I push his shoulder with another hand. I gasp when I see Luke kneel down with the guitar.

“Me too.” he shrugs. I start to laugh nervously, covering my face but careful not to lose my eyelash. I can hear the muffled laughter of the boys beside us, just wanting to hit each one of them.

“You need to blow to see if your wish comes true.” I say, already knowing my answer and I suspect he does too. Luke stands up blowing his flying eyelash.

"Boys, it's you, come in." a production guy yells, already pushing Ashton onto the stage, who is followed by Calum.

Quickly, I grab Luke's face, like I always did before he took the stage.

“Yes!” I give him a peck, watching him smile. Luke hugs me, stealing another kiss, running up onto the stage happily.

“This was definitely the cutest, most improvised request I've ever seen.” I open an even bigger smile, hearing Ryan beside me. I lay my head on his shoulder, swallowing the happy cry I wanted to let out.””

I don't know how long I sat staring at my torn photo, with a horrible pain in my chest. I hug my knees like the coward I am, not wanting to accept that the time has come.

Luke pov.

I jot down one more note in the melody I'm creating. The idea came up in the morning and if I didn't work on it now, I would forget. I go back to playing the piano following the sequence, when the bell interrupts me.

Petunia doesn't even make an effort to get up, remaining on the couch, snoring.

I open the door feeling my heart race. Marnie was standing there with a serious expression. I conclude that she came to tell me what was going on and I am relieved that I will finally understand what is happening.

“Can we talk?" I'm surprised by the hard look.

I make room for her, who goes straight to the living room, standing in the middle. I let a weak smile emerge, remembering all the times she's done this. I stop a little away, giving space, because I know how important this is to her at these times.

"I believe you came to tell me what's going on." I keep my hands in my pants pockets. M&Ms nodded.

"I came to break whatever we have." I don't know how to react. In fact, I'm not sure I got it right. “Look I tried, I really tried, but…”

“I'm sorry, what?”

For a second, I wonder how I got back to two years ago, where we had these fights almost daily. Where we were too dumb to want to accept. If it weren't for the pink hair, I would be convinced that it would be 2018 again.

“I tried to feel something for you, but I couldn't. And there's nothing I can do.”

I stare at Marnie, confused. I replay the past few weeks in my mind, all our moments together, and I can't believe a single word she says. I know everything was real. Every smile and laugh, every flushed cheek, every look and especially every kiss. Come back to Friday. How can she say there was nothing there?

“You gotta be kidding me. After all we've been through this month, do you have the courage to try to say you didn't feel anything?” my tone rises.

It doesn't make any sense. Her speech, her request not to forget that she likes me and today this? The pieces don't come together.

“Sorry. But I can't go on with this anymore.” I can see your gaze looking around the room. She's lying, why is she lying? For me on top.

“Why are you doing this?” Marnie looks at me confused.

"Because I'm tired of carrying this…”

“No! Why are you lying to me?” her eyes roll. I get close enough to be able to hear and notice her breathing.

"I have no reason to lie to you. If you can't accept that a girl doesn't like you, that's your business.” she passes me at the mention of leaving. But I hold your arm.

"So Friday was my hallucination? The two of us in the bedroom. You on my lap. All that desire and lust, was it a dream of mine?” your pupils dilate.

I can see she's thinking right now, can feel her pulse increase. She felt something, all this time, she felt something. I don't know if it's that insecurity from the beginning, the fear of getting involved, of getting hurt that always kept her away from me. The fear that I would be like him.

“I drank a lot.” her voice breaks the silence. I let go, covering my face, laughing indignantly.

“Oh my God, Marnie, why are you doing this? It's clear you're lying to me. Tell me what's going on. Is someone blackmailing you? Threatening you? Is it Stephen? Did he mess with you again?”

“There's nothing going on, Luke. I just don't love you.” she says with her head down.

The sentence cuts through me, causing agonizing pain. I feel my body retract. Your voice comes back in my mind in different tones and shapes, telling me every time you loved me. Whispering, screaming, in normal tones, even the day she swallowed helium gas.

My eyes burn. I don't want to cry in front of her, not out of shame, because I've cried a million times, but out of pride in not accepting that I'm hurt.

“I didn't want to go that far.” her restrained voice hovers over me.

I look at Marnie, not recognizing her. This is not the girl I fell in love with. The girl I spent nights awake just imagining what it would be like to go out with her, what it would be like to hold her hand and see her smile at me. The girl I spent mornings admiring sleeping. That I wrote love letters. That several times made me forget even my name just for saying the same thing. It's not her.

But it's amazing how I still know she's in there, somehow. Maybe Marnie was right that day, she didn't want to feel like an intruder in her own life, but she was.

She herself undid everything we built. Everything we've fought so hard has fallen like a house of cards. The promises made at dawn about our future together, vanish with the wind. I know they weren't empty, but the girl who made them with me isn't here.

“I'm so sorry. I-”

“Say it looking at me.” I stare at her resolutely.

“Don't do that.” she begs in a whisper.

Her eyes flood with despair and I delude myself, even with pain. Her mouth opens several times, but her voice doesn't come out. Her eyes blink several times, trying to ward off the tears that are forming there. I watch her body hold the air.

“What? Weren't you so determined?! So convinced?! Didn't you come here for this?! So say it looking at me, not the walls, like you're doing.” her jaw locks. “Two years ago you came here to look me in the eye and say you wanted to try, you came to ask me for a chance for both of us. So now look into them and say you don't want it anymore.”

Marnie stares at me lost. I pray, I beg her not to make it, for her to give up on this stupid idea. That deep down she says she's afraid to surrender. I wouldn't mind ignoring this fight and pretending nothing happened. Then I would hold her and make her feel like I would protect her from everything, make her feel loved. But my thoughts change and I lose hope when I watch her take off the necklace I gave her.

“I'm sorry.” she puts it in my hand. Right now I don't mind letting the tears fall. I stare at my hands feeling destroyed. Her lips touch my cheek lightly and so she leaves my house and my life.

““What is this?” I open a smile watching her approach, openmouthed. “Luke, what is this all about?” her eyes run over all the details with curiosity.

For a few seconds, I don't know what to say. I lose my breath watching how stunning she looks in this flowery dress with wavy hair. Holy crap.

“Our first date.” I shrug. Marnie breaks into a beautiful smile, making her cheeks blush. The sparkle in your eyes enchants me.

“Luke, when you said a date I swore we were going to a restaurant, I didn't think…” her voice trails off, giving way to a delighted laugh.

"Have I exaggerated?" I approach her, looking at the small tree with scattered lights and the table for two with two candles. "If you say yes, I'll be upset." I make fun of her.

“No! It's perfect, is that… I didn't expect this. Not all of that.” she whispers. "Did you do all this?" she looks at me in surprise.

“Good part. Except the food, the intention is to impress you, not make you run away from me.” I look at her teary eyes and feel amazing for getting it right. She liked.

I take a deep breath, trying to control my breathing and my nervousness. I wanted to leave Marnie speechless, wanted her to make sure I was worth it. And even with all the effort, she managed to leave me speechless yet. My God, how could someone be so beautiful like that? Am I really that lucky to have gotten her attention? I mean, do I deserve her?

“I do not know what to say. Thank you.” I get lost in her eyes, feeling the butterflies in my stomach grow. It couldn't be possible for me to be in love with her that fast already, could it?””

Marnie pov.

Air doesn't reach my lungs, no matter how windy it is. My chest and throat hurt so much my body recoils with every sob. It was like sand in my hand, running through my fingers, I couldn't hold it back.

As torture, I replay the scene in my head again, watching his blue eyes lose their luster and let those tears fall. I wanted to hug him and tell him I was crazy, drunk. That deep down I was completely in love with him, and I didn't even need my memories for that. Luke is so amazing that he managed to win me over again and I believe he could a million times over. I wanted to say that I want him, I want him more than anything, but I can't.

The doorbell pulls me out of my private cell, my mind, prompting me to question whether the bomb had ever gone off. It would probably be Leah or even Ashton, but I don't want to deal with anyone right now. I don't want lectures, I don't want judgments, I just want to stay on the couch until tomorrow when it's my time to go to New York.

I crawl to the door finding the last person I want to see right now. John Letterman has a huge, excited smile, in contrast, my face is red and swollen from crying for the past few hours.

“Hi, Marnie, how are you?” Cursed the day I ran into him at the studio.

“What are you doing here?” John plays offended.

“I just came to ensure that everything is going with our agreement.”

"What does it look like?" I point to my face. “It's all just the way you made me do it.” I turn around, entering the still-destroyed apartment.

"But what happened here?" he looks at the destroyed hall in disgust.

“You, John. Just you and your disgusting manipulation.” John shakes his head laughing.

"I didn't put any gun to your head to accept this. I just showed you the truth, you are destroying the career of 5 seconds of summer. Your person's association is putting their contract and their tour at risk. You're the one who decided to walk away.” he smiles satisfied.

I break eye contact, too exhausted to debate.

“I'm glad you lived up to your part of the deal and I hope this is the last time we've crossed paths.”

"Then we are two."

“But if I hear you're trying to get close to Luke again…” the tone of voice pisses me off.

“I've already done my part, but if you keep pissing me off, I'll go to Luke right now and tell him the whole truth.” I threat, nervous. I try not to show that his laugh makes me confused.

“You know, I missed you, Marnie. That innocence is really funny.” John stops laughing and approaches. "Do you think Luke wants to see you now?! Why do you think I'm here knowing everything?! He already called me, asking me to schedule the trip. He hates you now, Marnie. You broke his heart. I don't care what useless word you say to him, because he won't believe it. Here.” he takes his cell phone out of his jacket. "Want to call him and tell him?! I will help you.” he returns a venomous smile.

“Get out of my house.” I say through teeth.

"What's up, Marnie? Don't be so passionate. After all we are friends.” he makes fun of me.

"I said 'get out of my house.'” I scream, picking up a decorative vase beside me and threatening to throw it at it.

John doesn't look scared, but heads for the door.

“One day you'll thank me, Marnie.” he says before closing the door. I throw the vase, screaming, seeing it crash against the door.

The urge to go to Luke and tell the whole truth becomes much stronger, however, even if I don't want to admit it, John was right, Luke must hate me by now, making everything I say empty. On the other hand, I remember that I'm doing this for him.

I know at any other time, if I knew the band was going through something like that, I would do anything to help. Now, making sure I'm the problem, I want to become the solution and if that meant having to walk away from it then I would, after all their success and happiness could be mine.

I want to have faith that a few years from now, when everything is better, maybe I can get Luke and the others to understand why I'm doing this. Maybe we can even be friends if he doesn't hate me.

I give up, going up to my room for a shower and straight to bed. It's horrible knowing I need sleep to be acceptable for tomorrow, but I can't turn my head off. Even exhausted, I go over every fight I had today. Noah, Luke, and John's voices mingled in my mind, draining me more and more of my energy, but not to the point of putting me to sleep.

The night slowly drags on and the approach of dawn makes an anxiety rise within me. Yesterday they could have held back so they wouldn't come to debate anything, but I doubt that someone won't show up today and, given my state and mood, I'm sure I won't have the strength to fight.

For the few seconds and times I dozed off, I dreamed of the doorbell ringing, of Leah screaming for me to open the door. Finally, when the clock struck a little after five, I decided to get out of bed. Wrapped in the duvet, I walk to the kitchen, making tea. With my drink ready, I walk over to the couch on the balcony, watching the sky clear up for my last day in LA.

Passed morning, I go for a shower with the intention of getting rid of this weight. I lock everything in my room, not knowing when I'll be back. In the closet, I grab Luke's box and pull out my diary and some of our Polaroids. I also take the little white box, carefully storing it in my suitcase.

I walk around the house, closing windows, turning off power and stuff. I don't worry and much less care about the mess I made yesterday, if I ever come back to this apartment, I'll ask for a huge renovation, not wanting to remember anything from that time.

Around 8:00 am, I tell Martin that I want to go to the airport early, wanting to avoid any of my friends or family. I had already talked and said goodbye to my parents before the party. I'm relieved when he says he's on his way.

I take one last look at my apartment, accepting my defeat. I pick up my bags, already going downstairs and moving forward as much as possible to just leave, I just didn't count on Ashton at the front desk of the building

"Ash?" I call him on impulse. My friend turns to me, apparently not at all surprised to see me with my bags.

“Can we talk?” he questions calmly.

“I need to go to the air-” I try to dodge him, but Ash steps in front of me.

“Five minutes. I do not want to fight. I just want to understand you.” he interrupts me.

“You don't understand, Ash.” whisper. “I need to go.”

There's one thing I've always admired about Ashton, that peace he has and emanates. He in no second judges me with his gaze, in fact, this calm almost makes me tell everything, trusting that he would listen to me and believe me. But in seconds this idea loses strength, after all, Luke would not believe me and John could still harm the band.

“You know, I remember the day we met very well. You were the new student in yoga class and I was happy to have someone my age there. We weren't the best students and we talked too much, which caused us to be thrown out of class.” he laughs a little. “But even without that, we became good friends. It is not?”

“Yes,” I whisper, trying to understand where he is going.

“Marnie, I can't explain what was different with you, but I really didn't want to lose touch. I wanted you to be my friend. The problem is, in the end, I took care of you like my little sister. I think I projected that onto you. I've always taken care of Lauren and Harry a lot and I miss them sometimes. I always wanted to and will always protect you, but I need to know exactly what.”

“Ash…” I try to interrupt him but can't.

“I lost you once, in that fucking accident. I lost you to amnesia. I don't want to lose you for a silly thing. Marnie, please just tell me.” he pleads, holding my hands.

It pains me to see him like this. I can see the desperation in his eyes, just as I saw it in Luke's eyes. I know it hurts, but it has to. Ashton was definitely the best friend I've ever had in all my 23 years, I don't need my memory to prove it. Just a conversation with him and I realized our connection. Really, Ashton is the big brother I never had and I'm grateful for that.

Without the strength to want to convince him of the story I had already created, I pull his body to me, hugging my best friend for the last time. He doesn't deny the hug, squeezing me tightly, as if to stop me from going.

“Thanks for everything, Ash. Please don't forget my speech.” I give him a kiss on the cheek, ready to get into the car that has just arrived.

'It wasn't by chance that you and Luke met.” I stop at the door, turning confusing to him. “Ever since I've known you, I've known you'd be perfect for Luke, you're almost the female version of him. I just gave you guys a little push to see each other, because I knew the moment he saw you, he was going to fall in love with you.”

I stare at Ashton for a few more seconds before turning towards the car, feeling the tears wet my cheek once more. I didn't need to be an expert to know that yes, Luke and I were made for each other, but unfortunately, not all soulmates end up together.

I'm so sorry, I know I'm late. I have a undergraduate thesis at the end of the year and I am too busy with it. But I promise not to delay this amazing fic for you anymore. Thank you so much for all the support and affection, you're amazing. Until the next chapter!

P.s. which I will post in a few hours, after all, it's the least I can do after a month of delays. See ya! xoxo

#5sosedit #luke 5sos #5sos fluff #5sauce #calum 5sos #5sos blurbs #5sosfam #5sos fanfic #5sos #5 seconds of summer #ashton 5 seconds of summer #ashton 5sos #ashton fletcher irwin #ashton irwin #calum 5sauce #michael gordon clifford #calumthomashood #calum hood #michael clifford #luke hemming imagines #luke robert hemmings #luke hemmo #lukey #luke hemmings smut #luke hemmings #lrh #wfttwtaf #wendystales #memorieslrh #michael 5sos

[path-of-my-childhood]

Taylor Swift: ‘10 things you didn't know about ME!’

By: Roisin O'Connor for The Independent Date: May 24th 2019

Speaking to the British media for the first time in three years, the pop star, arguably the biggest name in music, reveals to Roisin O'Connor the unknown stories behind her latest hit single

Taylor Swift has shared a number of details about her hit single “ME!” ahead of her appearance on The Graham Norton Show.

The pop star spoke exclusively with The Independent about the track, which features Panic! At the Disco frontman Brendon Urie and is the first single from her forthcoming seventh album. In a review, The Independent said the song heralds a “bright new era” for Swift, suggesting that the new sound appears to “signal a time – at least one she intends on practising – of positivity and acceptance”.

“The world is a dark enough place, she seems to say, without another album despairing at the state of it,” it said. ”She’d rather let the light in, instead.”

“ME!” broke a number of music industry records upon release, including the biggest 24-hour debut on YouTube. The video contains several clues about more new music, including references to the album title. Read our Q&A with Swift, below, for her thoughts on “ME!” along with insights into what to expect from TS7.

There are so many musical references in the video – which did you draw particular inspiration from? I watch a lot of films and I’ve always loved musicals. With this video, I wanted it to be sort of a love letter to romantic, epic musical films, but always with a weird eccentric twist. Some of it was inspired by big Disney films, or classics like Singin’ in the Rain (or in this case, singing in a monsoon of fluorescent pastel paint). The love story between the two main characters in these films tends to be very performative, and that’s exactly what I wanted Brendon and my dynamic to be. Demonstrative and showy. Dramatic, but never taking itself too seriously.

What other pop culture references do you think people might have missed in the video? I wanted to channel Pattie Boyd in the Sixties scene because I adore her. Two glasses of wine and I’m immediately yelling about how much I love Pattie Boyd. I also liked the idea of flipping some old romantic stereotypes, like how a man would make a grand gesture in the street for a girl up on a balcony to make it up to her. Instead it’s me and a bunch of bad ass women in business suits doing the wooing. Then he tries to win me back with a few clichéd lady traps like flowers and a ring. But I’m like no, nah. But he hands me a cat? Okay, he must know me.

What made you want to work with Brendon Urie on the song? Brendon is the kind of performer I’ve always been in awe of. Endless energy, creativity and the desire to evolve every time he makes something new. You also never hear anyone in the industry say anything other than “he’s the nicest, loveliest person.” He’s actually got so many great qualities it’s almost obnoxious. 

How many seconds was it before you decided to adopt Benjamin Button (the kitten from the ME! video)? I think for the sake of being extra, I’ll say 13. You know when people say ‘I saw him and I just KNEW’ when they meet the one? Yeah I walk around saying that about a cat.

How many clues are there to the album title in the video? I think you see it once and you hear it twice.

When did you learn to speak French and what made you want to include it in the video? I’ve always loved the French language. I think I probably love the French language as much as any non-French speaker can. I wanted to have a nod to that and to the language of love. I also wanted to drop a few hints in the dialogue of the argument.

What was the main or most important message you wanted to send to fans with ME!? I wanted them to see that I’m heading in a different direction musically than they’ve seen in the past few years. This song was to change expectations and be a bit of a palette cleanser before they hear more of this new project. Plus, the chorus just makes me happy and lifts my mood when I sing it. I never want to be presumptuous, but I hoped it might do the same for someone who’s having a s***ty day.

Have you ever wondered about whether your clues are too well-hidden or do you trust your fans’ detective skills enough that they’ll get there eventually? I trust them to eventually unravel all of them, even if it isn’t until they hear the full album. That’s how I designed these clues, so that different ones would reveal themselves over time. I know this makes me sound like a frustrating, magical elf making people guess my name or something. If the fans tell me they’re not having fun with it anymore, I swear I’ll stop!

How long has this song been in the making? Because there are references that link as far back as 2012... I wrote the song this past winter, but I’ve known for quite a while what I wanted this album to look like, feel like, and evoke. I wanted it to be like the sky looks after a storm. Colorful, calm, somehow more beautiful than it ever had been before.

ME! is a song that seems to try and brush away cynicism about being a bit silly and just having fun – was this a message you were really intent on sending to fans, maybe especially in 2019? Absolutely. It seems like everyone is trying to be so cool and over everything and ready to criticise whatever people make. I mean there are even articles like “Here’s how Twitter feels about _______!” and people are actively being as scathing as possible or taking the piss out of everything because they get attention for it now. I wanted to put out something that, by nature of it being so buoyant, was actually the opposite of what culture is doing right now. Will it work? I don’t really care. It’s just fun to sing about being in a good mood for a change.

#the independent #interview #by taylor #taylor swift #ME! #TS7

[portiaphan]

DV Characters as Things Hannibal Buress Has Said

Alex: "I'm a gangsta, and gangstas don't ask questions." Yes they do ask questions! I thought that was a main point of being a gangster. "Hey, mothafucka, where's my money?" That's a question. "Do you want to die tonight?" That's a question too. "What? What?" That's two questions.

Alva: Gibberish rap is - I freestyle all the time, just hangin' out with friends. And sometimes when I'm freestyling, I'll lose my flow, you know, but I'll still wanna - I don't wanna just stop rapping because I lose my flow. So I'll just put in nonsense words till I can bring in regular words again.

Brielle: I couldn't imagine only being an actor or a writer. Because what the hell do I do when I'm not working? Mope?

Battista: I’m a dumb guy. My point of view is limited.

Bellamy: Why are you booing me? I'm right!

Beau: SIX PACK ABS! TEN PACK ABS! TWELVE PACK! What if I want an odd number of abs? What if I want a five pack to show people I'm still humble?

Bernadette: My other airport nemesis is airport security. I don't like them at all. They seem so dedicated to keeping bottled water out of the sky.

Calina: I acknowledge that I jaywalked, I apologize not for the act of jaywalking but how my jaywalking made you feel. I'll try not to jaywalk in the future while you're watching but trust that I'll do it for the rest of my life - it's the best way to go about being a pedestrian.

Castora: There's a lot of dudes in my neighborhood that have handlebar mustaches. Which is cool if you want to have a handlebar mustache but don't try to have a conversation with me like you don't have a handlebar mustache.

Catherine: He said, "Man, we are right by the Adige River. These buildings are 200-300 years old, they have rats everywhere. Even the five-star restaurants have rats!" Somehow he made me feel like the asshole for bringing up rats! I don't know what kind of jedi mind trick that was - it confused the hell out of me because I still ended up ordering food then.

Cyrus: So we talk for a little bit. She says stuff, I say stuff, she says stuff, I say stuff. You know how a conversation works.

Celeste: I get upset easily by people. I saw this guy- he was on the phone. He had the phone between the ear and shoulder like that, but he didn't have anything in his hands. Which is really upsetting! Who the hell do you think you are? This action for people that are multitasking. Where's your other task? You're not doing anything else.

Daphne: He'd be the worst real estate agent ever. "Right here we have a 34 bedroom house. Let me show you around the property. Great features to this place, some of the rooms have extra, smaller rooms in them."

Delilah: I was in Scotland for all of August and it was the darkest time of my life. Mostly 'cause they call cookies biscuits. I don't like that at all. It was an incredible culture shock for me, tough to adjust but I tried for a few weeks. Pass me the chocolate chip BISCUITS. Let's have biscuits and milk, everybody. I love Oreo biscuits. But, in the fourth week, I couldn't handle it no more. THOSE ARE COOKIES THOSE AREN'T BISCUITS. Those are cookies. Cookies are cookies and biscuits are biscuits. If you call cookies biscuits, what do you call biscuits 'cause I'm not saying scones.

Everett: I did not move to Verona with a plan. The first time I moved to Verona, I just popped up. My sister was living here in Verona. I just popped up. She had her baby and a husband, and I just popped up. "Hey, what's up? I got $200 and dreams. Let's do this."

Genevieve: I can't just look at a status and move along. I see a status got 36 'likes' — can't accept it got 36 'likes' and move along. I got to click on it and start reading the names of the people that liked it. "Oh, yeah. Jim would 'like' some shit like that."

Grace: Yo ma, money over everything.

Halcyon: Awe man, I gotta get a team. I don't have a team, I just have friends. I call up my friend, "Hey man, I know you're my friend but I need you on my team right now."

Hazel: You have a regular-sized tub and a miniature tub, the sink.

Henry: You never know what could happen when you go into a store - somebody might pull a Tonya Harding on you and break your knee cap. And now you got your knees all fucked up just ‘cause you wanted to get that vinyl.

Hugo: It sounds like God owed someone some money and they couldn’t get to him, so they murked his son. That’s what I really think happened. Jesus got stabbed up in an alley… but it’s easier to sell crucifixes. You can’t sell a pendant of someone getting shanked up in the alley. It’s a marketing scheme.

Ivan: Come to your place at 5:00 in the morning, eat your food, drink your drinks, leave at 6:30 without fucking like it’s cool. That’s a passive burglary.

Isabelle: Two separate charges $400 at Barnes and Noble. Who balls out of control at Barnes and Noble?

Juliana: Believe in yourself like one of those weird-ass clothing stores that only have six shirts in them. So many questions. How much do these shirts cost? How long have y'all been here? Why is there a DJ?

Katarina: Kill people, burn shit, fuck school, I hate spam emails! That's annoying! You think you have an email from a friend but it's spam.

Lucien: I believe in my ability to not spill food in my pants 'cause I'm a goddamn adult. And I've mastered the art of getting food from my plate to my mouth without messing up my jeans. You need to believe in yourself, too and get your life together, that's for babies. Have some confidence in your eating abilities and hand/eye coordination.

Lucrezia: I'VE ALREADY SEEN LIMITLESS.

Lillian: I'm not a club person, I'm more of a bar/lounge type of person. But, I'll go anywhere if you give me a free bottle of alcohol.

Mikael: I have weird aspirations. Like, I really want to kick a pigeon.

Matthias: It's a weird emotion when you're flattered and cynical at the same time. "Oh, that's nice that you would say that, but what the fuck are you up to?"

Marcelo: I just wear black and gray all the time. If you Google Image me, you'll just see a bunch of black and gray. It's simple. If I like a shirt, I'll buy six or eight of them, wear them back-to-back, and just wait for somebody to say something. "That's the same shirt you wore yesterday." "Yeah, but this one is fresh."

Maeve: When people go through something rough in life, they say, "I'm taking it one day at a time." Yes, so is everybody. Because that's how time works.

Nikolai: But this time, it was me and this old lady we were jaywalking together. We weren't together like that. But if we were, so what? Mind your business.

Odessa: It was a phone interview and sometimes when I do phone interviews and the journalist is boring, I just start saying crazy stuff to make it fun for me.

Olivio: There have been times I’ve been out, and my phone battery is at nine percent, and I was like, "Time to go home."

Orion: Don’t thank the lord. I gave you that compliment, thank me.

Priam: I lost my debit card recently, had five charges on it before I caught it. First charge, $30 Chuckee Cheese. Who goes to Chuckee Cheese as soon as they find a debit card? Are you serious?

Paola: I applied for a job at Starbucks. One of the questions was, 'Why do you want to work at Starbucks?' Uh, because my life is in shambles.

Pandora: I don't even know how to use a semicolon to this day, I use a comma every time. And you know what? If I email somebody and they get upset about me using a comma instead of a semicolon, that's not a person I want to work with anyway. And that's how you weed people out of your life.

Ramona: I went into this restaurant in Verona called The Two Gentlemen. Went into the bathroom at The Two Gentlemen, huuuuge rat in the bathroom at The Two Gentlemen and the rat looked at me like "the fuck you doing here?" That was his vibe, very negative vibe.

Rafaella: Sometimes I get drunk and I get into arguments with taxi drivers. And I get out the cab and I slam the door. That's not the way to win an argument with a taxi driver. The way to win is you get out of the cab and you leave the door open.

Regina: And that was the first time in my life, without any sarcasm, I could say, "What? You want a cookie or something?" Because any other time you say that, you being mean, but I meant it from my heart. "How many cookies you want, man? You want seven cookies? That's way too many cookies. You're being ridiculous right now. You can take, like, three or four cookies and get out of my face. Otherwise, you're taking advantage of my generosity."

Ronan: Wack.

Roman: In my hometown of Verona, I'm kind of a medium deal.

Theodora: We got interns at the job. You can just tell them to do stuff. You gotta be nice, though. I had this cat fax something. I handed him a couple of pages, and I handed him another page. I said, "Hey, man, fax something for yourself, too."

Tomas: Rap videos confuse me cause they have to be continued at the end but the never make a sequel. Where’s the second video? There’s so much suspense!

Trinity: I was at the airport and there was this kid, four or five years old walking with his mommy, fixed his fingers in a fake gun, and then took a shot at me. And I'm looking at the wall to see if there's something on the wall he could've been shooting at 'cause I'm in denial. I look back at him, he looks me in the eyes and takes too more shots. Now I'm hit three times, that's an act of aggression. I need to defend myself.

Valentina: Morpheus, Dorpheus, Orpheus, go eat some walruses. Orifices, porridges. Morpheus, Morpheus. Going to the Buffet and Walruses. Confidence, corpseses. Worcestershire sauce. Go into your orifices. Red pill, blue pill. Morpheus, walruses. Seashells by the seashorpheus. MORPHEUS DRINKING A FORTY IN THE DEATH BASKET.

Vivianne: "We'll keep you in our thoughts" With the other bullshit in your heads? No, keep me out of your thoughts, because I hear some of the stuff you talk about and if that's close to what you're thinking about, I don't want to be around that, so keep me and my family out of your thoughts, unless you're thinking of making me a sandwich.

#diveronatalk #this was gonna be as hannibal buress jokes but i had to include WACK #and ik val is dead #but whatever #ALSO I CHANGED THINGS TO SAY VERONA FOR OBVIOUS REASONS #alcohol tw #food tw #gun tw

[harveywritings92]

Soulmate Au: DK! Arno x Reader 2/?

Some years later...

Arno was approached by the Marque De Sade with a mission to recover some artifacts from the tombs of the dead kings before a group of raiders did, Arno was reluctant at first so the sadist noble asked what the assassin desired in return? Arno asked for his tab to be payed and a way out of France. 

The Marque didn't even hesitate he said can get him passage on a ship to Egypt. And also condition that Arno work with and protect his contact, a woman archaeologist of sorts named Y/n L/n whose excavation of the catacombs was recently hijacked and would like to know who took her research from her, however, she's not very skilled at defending herself.

He explained handing the cynical man a ripped note with an odd symbol drawn on it. "And just what does this contact look like?" Arno inquired the flamboyant man smiled slyly at the dark eyed assassin. "Oh, you'll know the second you see her." he hummed with that Arno left the tavern not noticing the cheeky grin on the Marque's face as he flipped a coin.

"This has to be a cruel joke..." Arno thought out loud as he spotted someone he thought he left behind in Paris...His soulmate. She was standing down in the market place, the assassin frowned he wasn't sure how to feel after seeing her after so long.

 She'd traded her bright floral f/c dress [that was the last thing he saw her in], for a black scarf, white long sleeve shirt, hooded gray short sleeve jacket,dark worn out tights [left thigh has a poorly patched tear in it.] and boots.

He wanted to believe she wasn't who the marque was talking about, But that hope was dashed when her tired e/c eyes scanned around the market before taking a ripped note with the second half of the symbol the marque had given him out of her satchel; checked it then took a watch out of her pocket and frowned, Y/n was waiting for him probably not even aware of who her partner/bodyguard was in this excavation her head turned in his direction!

Arno ducked out of sight as his heart rate spiked he put a hand on his chest to try and calm it down then checked to see if she was still waiting. The assassin cussed under his breath she was..."Merde." looking around Arno saw some scarves hanging off a clothesline checking around he made sure no one was watching, he took a gray one and covered his face with it, before approaching the h/c woman who did not look impressed at his tardiness.

"So, are you the one Marque sent?" she asked cautiously Arno silently nodded as the woman cocked a brow. "Hm, a silent one eh? well I have to say it's a nice change." She huffed as the two started walking the assassin hummed while cocking an eyebrow in response. 

She led him down a series of alleys before stopping across a cemetery and kept walking towards the royal crypt the gate was locked, Arno calmly pushed Y/n aside and got to picking the lock. "So do you have a name Mr Quiet, or are you one of those broody types?" The assassin cheeks heat up at her jab. "Arno" he huffed.

The gate creaked open and the assassin let the y/ht woman through first, pretty sure the was nothing down there to hurt her, unless she was afraid of a few cobwebs and cracked tiles..."Do you have the other half of this note?" Y/n asked causing Arno nodded as he reached into his jacket and handed it to her, the woman squinted as she tried to see the symbol only to cuss; it was too dark down here!

She grumbled about getting a lantern only for Arno to take the paper from her y/n gawked as this odd gold glow emanated from the silent man's eyes he looked around the crypt and waved at her to follow him, He led her to a tomb that wasn't broken into...yet. The bemused girl watched as he pushed the tomb's lid open. 

Y/n was going to ask what that was wrong with his eyes, and how he did do that? When he cussed suddenly  she looked over his shoulder the tomb was empty.. 

Y/n was going to suggest they regroup or check the other coffins but the sound of the crypt gate opening caused them to whip their heads around to see a light and shadows slowly coming down the stairs.

Y/n bit back a yelp as her bodyguard suddenly pulled her down to the floor and behind a tomb as group of raiders entered. From what they could gather the men were hired by some noble to track to dead king for the same thing Y/n and Arno were hired search for...But were having trouble finding a door? 

They mentioned something about the library too, before the leader of the group shoved their scout to the floor and locked them in the tomb, the man got up and turned on his lantern and looked around the tomb warily, before spotting rat Arno had flicked aside and immediately tipped the scout off he wasn't alone. "Whose there?!" he barked Arno stood up and the man took off the assassin cussed and turned to the Archaeologist.   

" We're going after him, try and keep up!"

"Funny was going to say the same you..."

"hrmn"

They ran after the man through the catacombs as he screamed for help, he eventually turned a corner and there was a scream! Arno stopped suddenly nearly causing Y/n to slam into his back, The y/hc girl blinked to see way he stop? and saw a gap in the floor that was home to a very long drop they looked over the edge and could faintly see the man's lantern at the bottom of this drop. 

The Assassin assessed the the width of the gap and determined it to wide and unstable for him to help Y/n across, He was about to tell archaeologist to go back and wait for him to double back to cemetery and unlock the crypt for her, but the woman had other ideas. 

[If reader is physically fit and athletic: Suddenly a figure in gray bolted passed him and jumping over the gap, it took a full second for the assassin to realize it was Y/n, he watch her land on the other side almost stumbling backwards before steadying herself.]

[If reader is chubby or just not athletic in general, Arno turned around to find Y/n gone! he frantically looked around, when he heard something scraping along the stones and looked across the gap to see a tile being pushed aside and saw her crawling out of a small crevice coughing up dust.]

Y/n wheezed and caught her breath/patted dust off her jacket before turning to face her bewildered bodyguard who was trying to understand what just happened? She went on ahead, she didn't wait for him... Images of Elise flashed in his mind before Y/n's voice echoed in his head. "Are you going sit there gawking like an owl, or are we going to continue?" She huffed about to walk off; snapping the french man out of his stupor, Arno's eyes turned cold as he made his way to her with a stern look.

"Don't ever do something like that again, without telling me..." He growled causing Y/n to flinch at his tone, before he roughly shouldered passed her, he held back a hiss as a dull pain pulsed through his right shoulder, his brows furrowed knowing full well he didn't bump her that hard. "Merde.." she hissed using her other arm to move and flex her right arm as she followed after him there was audible pop and the pain went away. 

Arno jaw tightened when he remember back in Paris when thugs had caught her, Y/n shoulder was bleeding, at the time he was just so overwhelmed with grief and anger he hadn't even thought about how bad her injuries were, Arno was soon brought out of his memory by Y/n asking. 

"Have we met, before all this I mean?"

Something about this man's voice was triggering alarm bells in Y/n's head, she's heard his voice before! but can't place it, her bodyguard looked over his shoulder at her; his dark eyes had that weird light in them again, after few seconds of consideration his eyes narrowed before returning back to looking ahead. "No." He huffed causing the archaeologist's brows to furrows in bemusement, as she silently followed after him. they eventually found they're way to the exit they had to climb up a well wall. 

Arno was going to tell y/n to get on his back, only for the girl again to surprise him when she took a hidden blade out of her bag, but it was different from his this one was thick and bent in into hook? he watched her equip it to her bad arm and and started to climb up the wall before while using the hook blade's traction to help propel herself up similar to a climb leap.

Arno wasn't far behind her as they climb out of the well. When they were out the assassin turned to the archaeologist."Where did you get that?" he demanded pointing at the hook blade knowing full well she was not an assassin, even a novice wouldn't be sloppy and insubordinate as she was today! Y/n hummed as she readjusted her sleeves and flexed her arm the brown haired man tried not flinch as he felt pins and needles in his shoulder.

"I found it, well what was left of it. among some stolen cargo from Constantinople." She further explained that she also found the schematics for it, decided to restore it, Believe her it was not easy and a real bitch to fix! Y/n had to pay a pretty mint just to get the right materials for it's repair, then taught herself how to use it. 

she demonstrated by releasing and retracting it. "It comes in handy when I'm in bind." She said starting to walk causing Arno to follow after her annoyed that the archaeologist had no idea what that blade symbolized and made her walking target, the walk to the library was a silent one until Arno broke. "What's wrong with your arm?" 

"Hm?..Oh, A shady client hired me to find a tomb, without his bosses permission." She awkwardly patted her right shoulder "...they found out and didn't take kindly to being made fools of, and decided to send him a message." she hadn't noticed her bodyguard stopped walking. 

"Message?"

"They ordered my head to be delivered to my client, didn't even see it coming, I had found a lead was walking back to my lodgings to review my findings, when I felt this...pinch I suppose? in my shoulder, next thing I know my whole right is covered in blood,and this group of men are just surrounding me, they told what their business with me was..." she licked her lips in disdain. "And one of them decided I was too pretty to kill right than and there they wanted to have some fun first."

She hissed that time always pissed her off when she recalled that time. Yes, she knew how to fight, But Y/n never carried weapons with her; what was the point? she was no one special, harmless and hardly caused any trouble! So, she hadn't really though about the prospects of her getting attacked, after few minutes she sighed and turned to look at with a smile that didn't reach her eyes.

 "Doctor tried to fix it as best they could...But, whats done is done. I'm still here, and life continues to move on...Besides, I'd be pretty pathetic if I dwelled on it..." The assassin remind silent as he mull over her story up using his own words as a insult aimed towards herself.

At the time he wasn't thinking when he said it, he was just so angry! Elise was gone, but Y/n...she was still here alive, Why? why was she alive while Elise died? at the time he saw it as cruel joke that fate played on him.  

Then he saw her being attacked by those men, she just looked so scared, vulnerable,...weak. his Rage, grief, and pride gotten the best of him! he was temporarily blinded by a white flash of rage; Next thing Arno knew Y/n was staring up at him crying and terrified surround by the bodies of her would be killers... 

He hadn't even thought of the consequences on leaving her alone bleeding out in an alley, He never stopped to think if she had found her way home? or had her wounds properly tended to?

 Truth be told, a deep dark part of him actually wanted her die, so he wouldn't have to feel anything anymore... He brought out of his thoughts by Y/n cussing he came up behind her, to see Rose's men had beaten them to the library. 

Arno eyes scanned the structure and layout he when he was sure he found his way in; he turned to Y/n and sternly told her to stay put he'll be right back.

Y/n sighed and did as she was told that was until some of the raider and recognized her and immediately started walking...fast walking, spri-Fuck it! She was running! started weaving and ducking into alley. but the men were persistent!

 "Aw piss!..." Y/n wheezed as she came to a dead end when she spied a pulley baring a load wood on a weak platform, running towards it she grabbed to rope took out a pistol and fired at the stand knocking it out from under the platform bring the wood load down with it.

Y/n was soon air born as she zipped up to the roof tops, she used the hook-blade to grapple onto the ledge of a roof and flip herself onto the roof however due to the speed and sudden redirection of her momentum her landing wasn't smooth, and soon the girl was caught in a roll which led to her colliding with a wall and hitting her head, she blacked out...

#assassin's creed unity #assassin's creed x reader #soulmate au #arno dorian #arno dorian x reader