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fiveisnumber1 · 3 years

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The Vortex That Takes Me To You - "Me, Lu, and Five Times Two" Side Story

Main story parts:

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | 25 | 26 | 27 | 28 | 29 | 30 | 31 | 32

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"Wait!" Five called out as he tried to hand you the briefcase

It was too late though as Luther pushed him into the vortex to 2019. As Five held the now-defunct half of the briefcase he fell through time for what felt like a matter of seconds before hitting the ground of the courtyard behind the academy. With a giant flash, the spot in the sky where the blue used to be was now gone. From afar the five known living Hargreeves siblings slowly approached the person who dropped from the sky. Slowly, Five got up from the ground throwing the broken briefcase away as he dusted the dirt and leaves off his clothing. Approaching closer the group looks on in confusion as Klaus asks,

"Does anyone else see a slightly older version of little number Five or is that just me?"

Five took a look down at himself. His suit was too loose now and when he looked at his hands he saw no more wrinkles or signs of old age. There was a leftover puddle nearby from rain that must've occurred early and as he bent over it he saw the version of himself that he had left only moments ago. Bringing a hand up to his face, he stared at his newly youthful reflection.

"I'm young again." He whispered to himself

At the same time that this was happening you were making your way to the florist to pick up flowers that Pogo had ordered. As you walked to the shop you felt that something was wrong. No, not wrong, but different. From behind you, you felt a molecular disturbance and a giant one at that. As you continued to walk to the shop the physical pain grew so much that you had to stop and bend over. It felt like your insides were being torn apart bit by bit. Somehow managing to turn around you felt the direction it was coming from. It was coming from back towards the house. The pain of the disturbance went on for a few more seconds but then abruptly it stopped. Catching your breath, you stood back up but something felt familiar in a way. It was like an odd chill of deja vu but you had never experienced this before. But if the disturbance was coming from the house then the flowers could wait. Reginald didn't deserve flowers anyway. Quickly, you started sprinting back towards the Academy trying to get there as quickly as you could.

Back at the house, the five Hargreeves siblings sat around the kitchen table as they watched the newly returned Five make a sandwich. It had been years since they had last seen him and a lot had changed in that time. Everyone had their own thoughts and feelings on the matter and some were more upset than others. Five wasn't exactly sure what to say to them after all this time. It was quite a complicated situation to be in. Trying to not let his uncertainty show, Five stoically questioned,

"What is the date? The exact date."

The group stays quiet for a second before Vanya states,

"The 24th."

"Of?" Five pressed

"March," Vanya replies

"Good." Five comments

This was exactly the time that he was planning to be here, on the day of his father's funeral. Thank god that man was dead. If he was alive he would never hear the end of it.

"So are we gonna talk about what just happened?" Luther asks

It was no surprise to Five that Luther would speak up. Even after all this time, he was trying to take the lead on things. Instead of responding to his brother, Five puts two slices of bread down on a cutting board and focuses on his desired food item. He hadn't eaten all day and apparently paradox psychosis was a real energy drainer. He needed a second before he was going to explain anything. Standing up, Luther looks down to Five and states firmly,

"It's been 17 years."

"It's been a lot longer than that." Five replies immediately jumping behind Luther to find marshmallows

"I didn't miss that." Luther comments

While Five looks around the kitchen for the marshmallows, Diego asks accusingly,

"So where'd you go?"

Of course, an accusatory tone. How could Diego not have one? Five could just tell that Diego was upset not because he had disappeared for years but because he was the one that made you disappear for years. If only the siblings cared for each other as much as Diego cared for you, maybe things would be different. Five didn't have time for Diego's older brother shtick though. Jumping back to the table with the marshmallows, Five bluntly replied,

"The future. It's shit by the way."

"Called it!" Klaus exclaims

Five turned towards the refrigerator to get peanut butter for his sandwich, his mind wandering as he thought back to his time in the apocalypse. 45 years. He was so arrogant to think he could time travel. Grabbing the peanut butter jar, Five talks aloud,

"I should've listened to the old man. You know jumping through space is one thing, jumping through time is a toss of the dice."

Unscrewing the lid of the peanut butter jar Five looks up from the sandwich he was making and at his siblings before him. The last time he had seen them all together was as corpses. And before that, they were all still children. It was a lot to take in but he was focused on his task of stopping the apocalypse. He had the information he needed on what caused it, but he needed to find the right time to discuss it with everyone. Keeping a stoic look he tries to deflect his mind to something else by commenting to Klaus,

"Nice dress."

"Oh, Danke," Klaus responds playing with some of the loose straps

As he starts to assemble the sandwich he was making Vanya questions him,

"So how did you get back?"

"In the end, I had to project my consciousness forward into a suspended quantum state version of myself that exists across every possible instance of time." Five responds

"That makes no sense," Diego says confused

"Well, it would if you were smarter." Five remarks

Diego angrily stands up and stares down Five attempting to get towards him to attack him. Instead, Luther stands up puts out an arm to hold him back. Honestly, it didn't matter if Luther was there to stop Diego or not. He was all bark and no bite.

"How long were you there?" Luther asks

"45 years." Five states bluntly "Give or take."

Luther and Diego both sit back down in unison. All the siblings stare at their brother with wide eyes in shock at his statement. 45 years?

"So what are you saying? You're 58?" Luther asks

"No. My consciousness is 58. My body is 18 again." Five retorts

With his sandwich put together, Five walks off to the side of the table they all sat around and faces away from his siblings.

"How does that even work?" Vanya inquires

"I used the improper equation when I was forced through time." Five replies

"Improper equation?" Vanya questions

Electing to ignore Vanya's question, Five turns back towards his siblings at the table. There was no reason to explain all that had happened before he came here. It was unnecessary and would probably worry his siblings more than they needed to be, or perhaps even enrage them and there was no way he was going to stop the apocalypse if his siblings weren't willing to work together. Picking up a newspaper detailing the death of his father, Five takes a look at it before commenting unamused,

"Guessed I missed the funeral."

"How did you know about that?" Luther asks

"What part of the future do you not understand." Five remarks to him, his eyes not leaving the paper "Heart failure, huh?"

"Yeah," Diego says

"No," Luther adds

Ah, yes. One and Two still fighting to be the leader of the family as if it hadn't been years since the dissolution of the Umbrella Academy.

"Hmm. Nice to see nothing's changed." Five comments

The Hargreeves looked at their newly returned brother and as he stood there quietly, holding his sandwich he stared back awkwardly at his siblings. The prior self that he left in the '60s said that you would show up when the conversation with his siblings felt over. It felt pretty over right now and there was no sign of you. Five's heart started to race, everything had been laid out for him, and now nothing was going according to plan. Panicked, Five decided it was best to leave. Keeping a serious look on his face he started to walk out of the kitchen.

"Uh, that's it? That's all you have to say?" Allison questioned

"What else is there to say?" Five responded

When he was out of sight of his siblings he once again noticed how his suit didn't fit him properly anymore. He needed to change. Flashing upstairs he looked in the closets of his siblings but was met with academy uniform after academy uniform. Reluctantly, he took an academy uniform from Klaus' closet since it looked like it would fit best and put it on. He stared at himself in the mirror for a bit before deciding to head back downstairs.

Making it back to the house, you looked around, and only felt faint traces of a disturbance. Maybe you were going crazy? Heading through the front door you looked around the foyer and some other rooms on the main floor and upper floors but found no one. Maybe they all got in an argument and left, it's not like they enjoyed being here anyway. Letting out a small sigh you made your way back downstairs to the parlor. Someone would probably show up soon enough. You stood in the doorway for a second and stared at the portrait above the fireplace. You had hated the painting at first, but you tolerated its presence after years of coexisting with it. Carefully, you made your way over to the fireplace and looked up at the portrait that loomed over you. It was nothing like him. No light in his eyes, no cocky smile on his face, no personality. Just an emotionless and unrealistic replication of who he was. You wanted him to come back.

As you stared at his portrait, Five had made his way downstairs and took in what had become of his home. As he approached the parlor he saw a giant portrait of him on the wall and below it stood a familiar figure. Five stopped in his tracks and his heart began to race. This was his (Y/N). Five readjusted his jacket and tie and took in a breath before slowly starting to walk over to you. Hearing footsteps behind you, you stopped looking at the painting and turned to look where they came from. Seeing the figure before you, your eyes went wide with shock as the world around felt like it was slowing down. Carefully, you moved forward towards him almost as if in a trance, worried that if you moved too fast he would vanish. You extended your hand out and Five moved to meet you in the middle. When the two of you were close enough your fingertips lightly brushed his cheek, but you quickly pulled back, shocked by the feeling of something there.

"I think I'm hallucinating again," you whisper

Five reaches out and gently grabs the hand you had retracted. Bringing it closer to him he places it on top of his heart, holding your hand there. You can feel his heart beating rapidly beneath your hand as your own started to catch up to match his. You looked up at his face and gazed into his eyes. Tears prick your own as you softly ask,

"Five?"

Five smiled at you as he looked upon your face. You were so beautiful. Not that you weren't in the 60s but the way you looked at him now was different. It was soft and welcoming and felt like it was only for him. Leaning in just a little closer Five whispered to you,

"I'm here."

You let out a small gasp. He was here. This was real. Flinging your arms around him you held him tightly as Five wrapped his arms around to hold you back. No wonder his other self was so protective, who would ever want to let this go? You looked up at Five. A question had loomed on your mind ever since the day he vanished and you had to know the answer.

"Are you still mad at me?" You questioned nervously

Five saw the nervous look on your face. He knew that you had wondered if he was mad at you for a while. It was one of the last things you had said to him before you...died. Five took your face into his hands. Looking gently into your eyes he answered,

"I was never mad at you, to begin with. I was mad at my dad and one of my biggest regrets will always be taking that out on you and then leaving you all alone."

With his response, a weight fell off your shoulders. For so long you had thought you were the one that drove him away. You thought he was mad at you all this time, but to know that wasn't the case made you feel so much better.

"So you didn't purposely stay away?" You asked

"No, how could I ever choose to be away from my best friend?" Five added

You looked off to the side as best as you could, given that your face was held between his hands, and hoped that he didn't notice the blush rising to your cheeks.

"I don't know, but I missed you." You mumbled

Five took his hands from your face and hugged you once more responding,

"I missed you too. Not a day went by when I didn't."

You smiled knowing that Five had missed you as much as you missed him. Day after day, month after month, year after year, you thought of him as you waited for him to come back. And now here he was before you telling you he felt the same way. It was all that you needed to hear. Well...there were other things you wanted to hear but those were more so desires than necessities. You were just happy to have him back.

"Pull that shit again and I'll kill you." You joke as you give him a small shove away

"I promise I won't." Five replies with a smirk "Although I don't think you would kill me anyway."

"Perhaps." You respond

Five threw his hands into the pockets of his academy shorts and looked at you.

"Care to walk and talk around the house?" Five offered

"Of course. Would you like me to turn invisible so you look insane for old times sake?"

"I already look insane in this uniform." Five joked

"You always did. C'mon, let's go." You say extending your hand towards him

Five looks at your hand, almost hesitant to take it because none of this felt real. Even though he had been around you not too long ago back in the 60s, this truly was different. This version of you hadn't seen him since the day he left. Unlike prior you who had experienced being around him, you had waited every day for his return. There was an excitement and awe that he got from you this time around that made him nervous. As Five thought more about the situation before him he froze up. As much as he trusted you when you said that you loved him the way he loved you Five still couldn't help but wonder if his other self just had better circumstances. He still worried that maybe that version really was just lucky. Five didn't want to get this wrong, but nevertheless, he took your hand. Fingers intertwining, there was electricity you both felt but would not tell the other.

With a smile, you started to walk around the house as you had done many times before, both of you trying your best to catch the other up. The conversation came easy as if the two of you were never separated. Five took in the sights of his old home. Nothing had really changed since he left, minus the small presence you had created. There was a newer piano in the parlor and you had shown off your wonderful room to him. He remembered your description of it from your diary and how you changed it from being Diego's to yours but it was even better in person. As you two exited your room Five looked down the hall at a shut door. It was his room. Five made his way there and you followed behind. Carefully, he opened the door to it and stepped inside. Once more you followed behind and thinking that the sight of his childhood room might be tough for him, you shut the door.

As you shut the door though Allison who had been heading to her room happened to pass by and noticed the two of you in there. Something about you two being together again reignited the feelings of her youth. She remembered the times when you and she had traded secrets about your crushes. The gossip in her immediately needed to tell someone else. Turning back around she went downstairs and noticed the rest of her siblings in the parlor again. Approaching them all she said,

"I don't want to alert anyone but Five and (Y/N) went into Five's room and shut the door."

"WHAT?!" Diego shouted as he angrily turned to face her

"Oooh, juicy," Klaus commented "I remember being 18 and hormonal. Horniness levels are through the roof, I mean-"

"NOT ON MY WATCH!" Diego yelled cutting Klaus off

There was no way his baby sister was going to be in a room with a boy alone. Especially not with the boy who had left her alone and broke her heart. What was he going to do? Break it again? Not if he had anything to say about it. With his fists clenched tight Diego started to march his way out of the parlor. He was going to protect his little tiny princess, but as he attempted to go, Luther, with his superior strength, held him back.

"Let me go, Luther!" Diego yelled

"We shouldn't just barge in there Diego." Luther criticizes

"That's MY little sister!" Diego retorts

"There are better ways of approaching this," Luther replies

"I want to know what's going on though..." Vanya comments

"Me too," Allison adds

As the group stands around debating Ben leans over to Klaus and says,

"Klaus."

"What do you want?" Klaus replies annoyed

"Is that camera we bought as kids still in Five's room?" Ben asks

"Yeah, we never took it out. Why?"

"The tablet to watch the video feed on is in my closet." Ben states

Klaus looks at him confused for a second before realizing what Ben meant. Getting excited Klaus exclaims,

"Guys! Guys!"

The rest of the group looks over to him confused and with all of their attention grabbed Klaus continues,

"The video camera we got as kids is still in Five's room and the tablet is in Ben's closet!"

"Do you think it still even works?" Allison questions

"It's worth a try," Luther says

The group looks at each other before silently nodding in agreement. Together they head up to Ben's room and search for the tablet in his closet. Finding it they turn on the switch and to their surprise, it works. The picture quality was not as great as they remember but clear enough that they all can see what is going on. As they all stand over the tablet Diego says annoyed,

"Alright Five, what are you hiding from me."

"From us." Luther corrects

The two brothers glare at each other before turning their attention back to the tablet and the two of you in Five's room. Five stepped into his room quietly taking in the surroundings. Nothing had changed, it was as if his room was frozen in time. As he looks around you slowly approach his side. Standing next to him you looked around the room as well and comment,

"It's an odd feeling. Knowing that time has passed but everything looks the same."

Five looks towards you. Of course, you knew the feeling he was going through.

"No worries though, we'll get you everything you need to make this place feel like home again." You mention

"I already have everything I need to feel at home." Five replies, his hand holding yours just a little tighter

Five gazes in your direction but as he does so he notices something behind you. Letting go of your hand he steps around you curious and makes his way over to his desk. Looking down at the object placed there he realized that it's the radio he had taken from Allison all those years ago. Confused as to what he was looking at you followed him towards the desk and saw the radio.

"I can't believe it's still here after all this time." Five comments

"Well we never gave it back and I'm guessing nobody wanted to come take it after..." You mention trailing off

"Yeah..." Five replies before questioning "I wonder if it still works?"

You shrugged your shoulders and gestured to the old electronic encouraging him to see if it worked. Leaning down Five plugs in the old radio before pressing the on button. The sound of static blasts loudly through the speakers causing both of you to flinch back a little in shock. After a moment Five started to turn the knob to tune the radio, searching through for a station that was clear. Soon the static started to fade and in its place music could be heard.

As the camera continues to spy on the two of you, the rest of the Hargreeves siblings watch what goes on from Ben's room. Seeing the working radio Allison exclaims,

"Hey, it's my radio! I never got it back!"

"Allison, it's been years and still no one cares about your radio." Klaus comments "We want to know what's up with Five and (Y/N)."

Allison lets out a huff and crosses her arms. Just because it was old and she hadn't been in possession of it or thought about it for years didn't mean it wasn't hers. Even with her pouting, the siblings continued to observe. As they did so Diego aggressively says,

"Alright Five what shit are you going to pull now?"

"I don't think he's going to do anything." Vanya comments "I mean there's nothing wrong with them being happy."

Back in Five's room, music flowed through the air as Five leaned against the edge of his desk, watching you look around the place. He was absolutely enthralled by you. The most mundane of things seemed extravagant just because you were there with him. A wide smile appeared on his face as he remembered a similar time he had spent with you. You took in the room silently as the upbeat music played. It had been a bit since you'd last been in Five's room, but for the first time in a while it felt warm and bright again. Looking over your shoulder you looked back towards Five and noticed the smile on his face.

"What?" You questioned

"Nothing." Five replied with a shake of his head

"Nothing? The mind of Five Hargreeves is completely empty?" You joke sarcastically "This is something I'd expect from your brothers, not you."

Five rolled his eyes at you but he missed your quick wit. No one at the commission could keep up with him like you could. As you walked back over to him, Five could see the look on your face waiting for him to elaborate.

"I was just thinking-" Five starts to explain before being cut off

"Ah, so you were thinking!" You comment back

"Yes." Five replies letting out a small laugh "I was thinking about how this reminds me of our friendiversary a bit."

"Yeah, kind of, minus the food and flowers." You reply

You were right, there was no food and flowers. How could he even think to compare the two times when this time wasn't as perfect? Quickly standing up from the desk, Five starts to make his way over to the door as he states worried,

"Do you want food and flowers?"

Reaching out, you grab his hand preventing him from going any further. Stopping in his tracks he looks back towards you confused at your action. Gently, you pull his hand back towards you, causing him to come back close to you. With his hand still in yours, Five asks confused,

"Do you not want food and flowers?"

"No, Five." You replied with a smile "I just want you."

For a moment, Five could feel his heart stop. Although his expression seemed calm and collected, internally he had no clue what to do. He was so preoccupied trying to figure out how to get back to 2019 so he could stop the apocalypse that he never stopped to think fully about what would happen when he actually did so. And it wasn't until he met himself that he even found out being a teenager again was a possibility. This was the most unprepared he had ever been and the nerves he felt on your friendiversary were nothing compared to the nerves he felt now. If you didn't want food or flowers then what could he do? And then from the radio, he heard the voice of the announcer,

"This is Arlo Vegas with 103.5 WKTU. I hope that even with all the doom and gloom outside today everyone can stay high and dry. Up next, a throwback to 2017 this is Adore by Dean Lewis."

I'm just gonna stand with my bag hanging off my left arm I'm just gonna walk home kicking stones at parked cars But I had a great night, 'cause you kept rubbing against my arm So I'm just gonna stand with my bag hanging off my left arm

Five looked towards the radio as the sound of a soft guitar slowly playing and the lyrics of the song enveloped the room. As the music played he remembered the part of your friendiversary that he could never forget. He remembered how the two of you danced that night and the joy he felt in that moment. Looking back towards you he nervously asked,

"Would you like to dance...with me?"

"I'd love to." You replied longingly

Five guided you the few steps towards the center of his room taking a quiet breath as he tried to calm his nerves. How did he do this so easily as a child? Oh right, he didn't realize he was in love with you then. Turning back to face you he saw as your eyes lit up and your smile widened. So much for breathing when you took his breath away so easily. Gently, he took one of your hands in his as he wrapped his other arm around your waist. You wrapped your free arm around his neck as the two of you slowly started to dance to the music.

Get me a drink, I get drunk off one sip, just so I can adore you I want the entire street out of town just so I can be alone with you Now go when you're ready My head's getting heavy, pressed against your arm I adore you

"So is this what your prom was like last week?" Five asked

You looked up towards him slightly confused. How did he know about your prom? It took you a second to remember but you then recalled that he had come from the future so he had to have found out about it somehow. You recalled your prom only a week ago, it was fun to be with your friends but it was definitely not the same experience as dancing with Five. With a slight chuckle, you answer.

"No, it was not like this."

"Oh, why not?" Five questions

"Well dancing with you is quite different than dancing with Dean, because neither of us had dates and we pitied each other." You explained

"I wish I could've come a week earlier then. I would've saved you the pity by dancing with your brother." Five joked

"Wow, okay." You laughed

"I'm joking." Five explained, his expression softening as he added "I'd never pass up a chance to dance with you."

"Neither would I." you replied quietly

All of my money is spent on these nights, just so we can hang out Spacing in and out of your dresses, I wanna be found by you Found by you

As the two of you swayed you couldn't help but rest your head against his chest. A small smile appeared on your face as you closed your eyes and comfortably melted into the moment. Unconsciously, you started to stroke the hair at the back of his head casing Five to lean into your touch. It was so gentle and soft. Five could feel his heart start to pick up its pace. He hoped that you couldn't hear so because he had no clue how he would explain it to you. Granted, he knew all the words he wanted to say to you but he didn't know if he'd even be able to get them out.

As your head rested on top of him a thought came to your mind. It was something that you hadn't done in a while and something you had desired to do. Lifting your head up, you look towards Five who looks back down towards you. Had he done something wrong? Did you hear how fast his heart was beating? Quietly you ask,

"Will you spin me?"

Relief washes over Five's system as he gives you a soft smile.

"Of course I will," He replies

Slightly breaking away from you he helps to twirl you around, the smile on your face filling his heart to the point he felt it was going to burst. Your laughter filled the room as you enjoyed your time with your best friend. You couldn't think of anything to make the moment better. Five spins you back in towards him before spinning you out once more. As you spin out quickly your grip on his hand slips and you start to fall back. Quickly, Five flashes over and catches you. His arms wrapped tightly around your waist as yours find their way around his neck.

She kicks the gutter in tight shorts, basketball courts Watch me, watch her talk to boys I'm known as a right-hand slugger Anybody else wanna touch my lover?

The two of you look at each other both trying to catch your slight breaths from the burst of adrenaline that just occurred.

"I told you I wasn't going to let you fall." Five comments

It was too late for that though. You had fallen for him years ago in a situation exactly like this one. There was something different about it this time, an energy you had never felt before. Your eyes were still locked on each other he slowly brought you back up. The soft bridge of the song played in the back but all either of you could hear was the beating of your own hearts. Wrapped up tightly in each other's arms there was no space between the two of you. Each of you wanted to say so many things, wanted to shout the thoughts that raced in your mind, the ones you always had, but no words came out. As Five stood there with you in his arms he finally started to understand what you meant back in the 60s when you said the pieces would fall into place. Everything about this moment felt right like it was meant to be. Like he was meant to be here with you. As you continued to look into each other's eyes there was a magnetism that pulled you closer. Your faces inched closer as the space between you lessened more and more. For a moment you both wondered if you were dreaming but no, this was real. You were here with each other. And as the climax of the final verse hit, your eyes closed as your lips gently pressed against each other.

Tenderly, you both expressed everything you wanted to tell the other without saying any words at all. The years of pining and longing to be reunited had finally culminated into something beautiful. Something you both had desired for a very long time. The world around you faded away leaving only the two of you and your newly acknowledged love for each other. Removing his arms from your waist he took your face in his hands, pulling you closer and deepening the kiss. He never wanted to leave this moment. This was all he ever wanted, this is what he survived and fought for and now to have it? It felt unreal to him. But it was real. He had you, and you had him, and nothing would ever take that away now.

I adore you

Neither of you wanted to be the first to part from the kiss but as the final lyric of the song ended the two of you slowly separated. With eyes still closed, you rested your foreheads against each other, relishing in the beautiful moment. As Five held you close, he knew he needed to tell you something. Even if he had expressed it in his kiss to you, he wanted to verbalize it, to make it know and make it real. Moving one of his hands from your cheek to your chin, he tilted your face up to look at him. As he gazed into your eyes, with adoration in his voice, he whispered,

"I love you, (Y/N)."

You could feel your stomach flutter with butterflies as you processed his words. There was nothing you wanted to hear more than those words. Finally getting to express how you felt, you replied breathlessly,

"I love you too, Five. You know what this means now though."

"What?" Five questioned

"You can never leave me again." You answer

"I promise nothing will ever tear us apart again. Not people, not distance, not time, nothing."

The two of you looked at each other lovingly before leaning in for another kiss. As you did so the siblings in the other room saw everything.

"Awww," Vanya said as she placed a hand over her heart

"They're so cute!" Allison exclaimed

"They are not!" Diego remarks angrily as he tries to make his way to the door "I'm going to go in there and stop him."

"Luther, stop him." Allison requests

Doing as she says, Luther wraps his arms around Diego from behind and picks him off the ground. Kicking his legs and wriggling around, Diego fights like a child trying to escape Luther's grasp.

"That is my little princess! I need to put a stop to this!" Diego complains

"She is 18, you need to let her live her life," Allison replies

"Not with him! The one who ruined it." Diego retorts

"I don't think she sees it that way," Vanya interjects

As the other siblings argue with Diego, Ben leans over to Klaus and states,

"If I was alive you would owe me $20 bucks right now. I told you they'd come back and get together before Allison and Luther would."

"Oh, shut up," Klaus replies

The rest of the group looks over to Klaus before looking back at the still flailing Diego.

"Klaus makes a good point. You need to drop this and shut up Diego." Allison states

"I will not!" Diego replies back

"If you don't calm down, drop the issue, and let them be happy I will rumor you into doing so." Allison threatens

It takes a moment but Diego soon stops his fighting. He was not going to be rumored into ignoring the situation but for now, he would put it off. Letting out a huff, Diego relents,

"Fine."

"Good, now let's shut down this camera and just leave them be. We can talk to them later." Luther commands as he puts Diego back down

And so as the siblings tried to quietly file out of Ben's room and go off to do other things, this version of Five and you stayed happily together ready to take on whatever the future threw at them.

____________________________________

Taglist: @xplrreylo @joebob15274 @insatiable-ivy @fruitsaladtree @angelpeachamber @academy-umbrella @lizziel1410 @ir3neeee @faith-quake @aliens-with-colas @sunsetcurve-1995 @lady-celeste25 @im-dead-and-hurting @nerdypinupcrystal @cherry-ki-d @anapocalypseinmymind @vicassa @2cuteforyourlies @taylorsmakingfuckingmacandcheese @n1ghtsh4d3-67 @cheshire-salvatore-mikaelson @shadowycreationcupcake @emily-hargreeves @metor-showers1994 @fivehargreevesforthewin @rinko-san @supernovavision @cicilisthebest @flickbix @hi-v-juice @magykal-777 @zosiaduda @thethirdwheelfriend @mysticracoon @isnt-it-loverly @officiallydarkgeek @lady1505 @always-the-very-worst @tinypandagirl @libidinexx @lemongrabbuns @itwasallred @deadandoverit @shlokage @keksi249 @theoriginalkat @we-stan-fiction @bi-idiot-fanfics @annnagennnie @izzyjojo4 @megasimpleplan4ever @flowertoty @grabthemoneyandletsgo @itsametaphorbriansblog @vanillacaramelhoney @satvaldiva @disaster-magician @margotsfandoms @emily-b-m @bluechildrenlickmytoes @soft-slytherin-sweetie @oceanspray5 @im-here-for-fanfics @thebloodrobin @freestarlight @starcurrent @lilacs-lavender @moatsnow @give-the-boy-a-hug @narikyuwu @whenyouregrungeaff @gabriella-aesthetic @xxtwizztedxx

#The Umbrella Academy #Umbrella Academy #umbrella acedmy #tua #tua2 #UA #number five #five hargreeves #five hargreeves x reader #the umbrella academy five #umbrella academy five

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jungwon-crush · 3 years

Text

(2) home - enhypen

youtube

(listening to the song while reading the chapter is recommended~)

in a long straight path, there lined eight houses, every two faced each other. this was what i considered my neighborhood.

the houses looked completely worn out. there were still leftover hopscotch marks in the grubby street that separated the houses, and several cracks lined the outer front walls of the homes.

i hastily ran out of one of those houses, and onto the narrow roadway. i was in a bit of a hurry - i decided to wash myself before going to sunghoon's place because the field made me feel sticky, which means i took an extra amount of time to get ready.

as i left my terrace, i heard gates clambering to my right side.

"oh, you're late too." niki pointed out as i approached him.

"didn't know you were going to eat at sunghoon's as well."

"sunoo ran out of food," niki crankily replied, "and everyone else is having dinner there anyway, so why not? it's free carbonara, might as well take the chance because sunghoon never shares anything unless his mom forces him to."

i gasped, "the others are there too-"

"hell yeah! goo goo ga ga hoon waaaah go cry about it! we're all going to drain your food supply tonight!" niki said as he childishly hopped up and down.

"niki, please don't be too happy. there will be three people slaughtering us tonight." i shivered at the thought while we both started to walk towards sunghoon's house at the end of the pavement.

jake, heeseung, and jungwon hate waiting for people in order to eat. they're literally a foodie trio, they get grumpy when they can't have their meals right away. they also tend to blame their hysteria on the people they're waiting for. the word blame is an understatement, heeseung takes food a bit too seriously for a twenty year old.

usually, they just go ahead if they get impatient.

however, sunghoon's flight-attendant mom is supposedly back home tonight. our parents have created this sort of rule that we have to eat all-together. this rule stems from when seven year old me threw a tantrum when i found out that the boys ate fried chicken without me, so we've been kind of following it for most of our lives because the elders get upset if one of us has a temper.

niki added, "actually, four people will have ideas that involve murdering us tonight. well honestly- only three for me. four for you."

i stopped in my tracks, "what the hell are you on about?"

"jay doesn't like when others take his stuff and wear it without his permission.."

clothes. niki was referring to my clothing. i looked down just to realize that i was wearing an oversized t-shirt that had 'park 02' printed on it. it was jay's custom tee from high school.

was i in such a rush that i didn't even register that i put on jay's shirt that i had secretly stolen?

"niki- you dumbass! why would you tell me this now? we just reached sunghoon's!" i yelled at the lanky being while i harshly slapped his abdomen.

"oh so i'm the dumbass? that's what you get for being an idiot, i can't believe you're a senior!" he yelled back at me.

i rolled my eyes and hit him one more time in the gut before taking position behind him as we slipped into the entrance of sunghoon's humble abode.

"using me as a shield won't do you any help." niki sneered while he opened the front door.

i wretchedly threw my head back and followed niki's back into the wood-paneled parlor. a chatter of voices could already be heard.

we moved past a set of stairs, and eventually winded up where the dining room was.

six people, who were previously facing each other and conversing, turned towards the direction niki and were coming from. they were seated at an old-fashion table with eight cushioned chairs. four individuals were settled on the side of the table that could see the room's entrance, while two people had their back facing niki and i as we arrived.

i scanned the room and surprisingly, nobody wore an irked look.

"byeol! looking good!" a puppy-like boy grinned. at that, i made my way towards him and teasingly pulled at his dark hair. jungwon, who sat beside him, elbowed his arm and mumbled something that sounded similar to "jake, focus on your food".

sunoo gleefully waved his hands then patted the seats beside him, gesturing for niki and i to sit there. the two of us shuffled and took our seats.

i found myself directly next to sunoo, with niki at the left end of the table facing heeseung.

i wrapped my arms around sunoo, he returned my actions and drew nearer to me which made our cheeks squish against each other. i creaked, "sunoo, my only source of sunshine! how are you? it's been a while."

"it has been way too long! i have been suffering lately- because of this moron called sunghoon! for the past hour he has been talking about how he received five confessions today even though it's only the second week of him attending college. my ears are so close to falling off!" sunoo wailed dramatically.

i hugged him tighter and jokingly sniffled, "i'm so sorry, sunoo... i can't imagine what you've been going through."

while i was comforting the poor boy, a hoarse voice sarcastically rang out, "i apologize for sharing my experience of being a really attractive, warm-hearted, and extremely smart person."

i let go of the hug and looked at the being past sunoo, "you don't need to ask for forgiveness. i think we all know that you don't have any three of those qualities, so what's the point in saying sorry?"

sunghoon just scowled as a response.

heeseung snickered at our exchange before his expression became serious, "start eating, byeol. the vegetables are gonna get cold."

i titled my head in confusion. wait what? i internally thought, did he just say vegetables?

i peered at the middle of the table, where an empty bowl with remaining white sauce stood alongside a plate filled with greens.

"you guys ate without-"

"yeah, byeol. you and niki were an hour late.. what did you expect-"

i cut jungwon off, "you were the one who told me there was gonna be carbonara! and now there's none? you could have made sure that heeseung and jake wouldn't hog it all for themselves!"

jungwon bit his lower lip guiltily, "i tried... but you know how they are."

niki shook his head as he grabbed the salad, "disappointed, but not surprised."

he put some vegetables onto my plate, then took the leftovers for himself. i began to bitterly munch it while making weird faces.

"i swear they're no older than six." jay whined. "also, byeol, is that not my shirt you're wearing?" he continued.

"now now jay, it is not the time to get mad at byeol. she 's already irritated, so she'll bite back even more." heeseung advised as if he was talking about an animal.

jay annoyingly pointed at me, "you're not getting away with this type of stuff next time."

i glanced at heeseung and gave him a quick thankful look. he gave a small smile back.

"considering you guys went ahead, is your mom not here, hoon?" niki probed.

"she's out running errands, won't be back until 10." sunghoon answered.

from there, the usual night-time conversation started. we discussed about the coffee shop heeseung was running, lutton high rumours, and how jake was unexpectedly doing well with girls in college too?

"did you know that i got invited to 3 dinner dates today? hoon's not the only one attracting ladies in the university of lutton." jake smirked.

"you should have went to one then." sunoo and i retorted at the same time. we playfully nudged each other.

"well, i was going to! until i heard that byeol was joining us for dinner tonight, she hasn't eaten with us for the past week!" jake countered.

jungwon's eyes flickered to mine while i told half of the truth, "sorry, i've been tired from school recently."

niki's eyes went wide, "oh right! you're still in the photography club? i heard hwang intak's the president this year!"

"who's hwang intak?" sunghoon strangely asked. he was rarely curious about others apart from us.

jungwon and jake's ears perked up at the question as well.

"lutton high's new it boy, also known as your replacement. except he's like ten times more friendly than you." sunoo taunted.

"yeah, right." sunghoon scoffed.

jay began to clap his hands and wheeze, "i thought the girls there would be heartbroken when sunghoon graduated. they move on quickly!"

"he's actually really nice though," i insisted, "during our club meetings, he always allows me to do homework before taking pictures. he even offers to help sometimes even though he's in a different section. i wonder why."

jungwon interrupted, "he's probably one of those overly kind people."

i shrugged, " i guess? i'm the only senior in the club apart from him, so he probably understands how i feel overwhelmed with assignments and stuff-"

"or," niki interjected, "he's into byeol!"

jungwon flashed a glare at niki.

niki responded with a face that said, "what?"

heeseung pondered out loud, "that may be true, i did something similar with the girl i liked when i was part of the student council."

sunoo's mouth was agape, "ahhhhhh! that explains why he comes into our class and studies with byeol sometimes during our free periods! it all makes sense!"

"who in their right mind would actually be interested in the lunatic?" sunghoon remarked.

"you've got to admit that she occasionally looks cute."

sunghoon's ears tinged red, "jake..." he paused, "n-no i don't think that she's-"

"i'm just saying!" jake hollered as he pushed back his hair.

"can everyone shut up for a second? you guys are being overdramatic. school just started last week- how can he like me in a span of fourteen days?" i exhaustedly let out, ignoring jake's comment.

"you never know how someone truly feels byeol, you never know.." niki uttered.

i slapped his knee aggressively, "what do you know about love, niki?"

"trust me, i know more than you." he replied, his eyes fixed on something behind me.

i let out a final huff of annoyance. i always question how i managed to survive eighteen years with these brats.

"shoot, it's already 9:30! i'm gonna go to bed, i have early morning classes tomorrow. and so do you jake." jay got out of his seat and waved his hand at us as he left the room.

"tsch, i guess i'll get going too." jake said as he started bidding goodbyes. when he got to me, he pinched my cheeks hardly and ran out of the room with a cheeky smile before i could chase after him.

i rubbed the area where he pinched, whispering exaggerated cries of how much it hurt.

"i think it's time we all go, it's getting late. you guys still have school tomorrow, and i have to open up the café." heeseung stood up and clapped everyones shoulders.

"don't stay for too long!" he finally said as he exited.

niki ridiculed, "yes, father heeseung!"

"hey, is anyone going to watch the game tomorrow?" sunoo inquired. there was only five of us remaining. "i don't want to go alone."

"i have to go, the photography club needs to take pictures of the game." i nodded

sunoo put his two hands into a prayer position, "oh, thank the lord!"

"i'm coming too, a few of my classmates are players." niki said as he was beginning to leave, "jungwon and sunghoon, you guys should come along too, since you two are so curious about photography club president intak."

after saying that, the younger boy immediately took his leave. he didn't wait for any comments, he just yelled, "see you, tomorrow!" before he slammed the doorway.

sunghoon pointed out, "i think he left straight away because jungwon had a knife ready in his hand."

"no doubt about it, hoon." i said as i looked at an annoyed jungwon who was gripping his utensil in a very uncivil way.

"i'll come, unlike those biophysics majors, i don't have any classes tomorrow."

sunoo hooted, "good! that's good, hoon! how about you, wonnie?"

jungwon sighed, "fine. now we're done here. i'll walk you home, byeol."

sunghoon chimed, "walk her home? she lives down the street..."

jungwon pretended that he didn't hear sunghoon and moved over to me. he tried pulling me out of my place while i held onto sunoo's arm, "i'll go home only if sunoo's sleeping over! my dad's at the city again!"

"i'll stay at your house tonight, byeol! don't worry."

i let jungwon pull me up, while sunoo followed suit.

"your dad's not here again?"

"i just said that, hoon." i put my arms around sunoo and jungwon and started leading us out of the house.

"just know you can come over anytime- like always!" he called out in an uneasy tone from the dining area.

"noted!" i yelled back before sunoo closed the door behind us.

"my legs are tired, can someone carry me?" i immaturely begged.

"really? they're worn out from sitting down for two hours?" jungwon declared.

"let the girl be! you can piggyback on wonnie, byeol." sunoo beamed while ushering me to get on jungwon's back.

regardless of his displeasure, jungwon crouched down.

i jumped onto the rear part of his figure and wrapped my arms around his neck. he jumped a little as he made his posture straight again, "i actually need to stop babying you."

"i'm pretty sure you said that yesterday too." sunoo chuckled as we plodded back to my house.

taglist: @wonwobbles

a/n: this chapter is pretty long compared to the first one, so im a little proud of it! i wanted to show how byeol banters with the others and how their characters react to certain stuff to show their personality!!! heheheheh

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gophergal · 3 years

Text

Hooooo Boy! This took longer to write than I though, but with the help of @bucketofcowboys , I did it! (Encouragement from @bisexual-horror-fan was also a major motivator) enjoy this second chapter <3

I’m Not Lonely - Chapter Two

Word count:4 000+| Rating: M | Michael Myers x OC | M/F

Morning came, with all that entails. In the midst of her freshly awakened delirium, Jean was sure that the previous night's events had just been a strange dream. She'd been known to have dreams like that, especially when she was stressed. The paranoia induced by the news I listened to on the way home must have been the basis, she told herself. She had been exhausted and what she did in that dream was absolutely ridiculous. Never in a million years would she be so stupid as to do what she did. That would be like one of those foolish horror story protagonists that Jolene liked to tell her about. With a light chuckle, Jean changed out of her pajamas into the brown sweater and jeans she liked wear on cool mornings like this. There were plenty of things to do today, but none of them could be done on an empty stomach, so off to the kitchen it was.

As she reached the bottom of the stairs, the living room came into view, and suddenly her train of thought came to a screeching halt. The coveralls, with their dark stains and tears, lay on the floor, mocking her for her stupidity. Their owner, however, was absent, with no sign of his presence. Jean's heart began to beat far too fast in her chest as her mind raced with all the things that could go wrong. She turned suddenly to leave the room and crashed into a solid mass, stunning her for a moment. At once, she was hit with a wave of embarrassment as she was pressed against the chest of her uninvited guest.

“Oh! Excuse me, I didn't see you there,” She exclaimed, taking a step back from the man. Now, in the daylight, she could take the moment to realize how tall he was. He was about a whole foot taller taller than her, built like a football player, and, when she'd been pressed against him, solid muscle. “Um, I, well, I'm going to be making myself some breakfast. Would you like to join me in the kitchen?” He didn't answer, unsurprisingly, but she could feel his presence as she moved toward the other room. Her mind was a storm as she flipped an egg in the skillet. What am I even doing? She wondered, I don't know who the hell this guy is or what he did last night before he broke in.

Jean set a plate of eggs and toast in front of the stranger, then sat across from him with her own steaming plate. The air was heavy with tension as they sat, the man staring at Jean as she struggled to force her mouth to form words. Neither of them reach for their food and Jean feels the need to squirm in her seat. She spots her notebook and pen.

“Ah, I- Um, I never caught you name,” she pushed the paper and writing instrument toward him gently, “Mine's Jeanette. Jeanette Parrish. Well, I just go by Jean, because that's what everyone calls me.” She stuttered out. She would almost feel embarrassed if he weren't watching her in such an intimidating way. Like an owl watching a mouse scurry across the forest floor, waiting for the moment to swoop down with its talons bared.

Stop that, she thought to herself, you're working yourself up over nothing. The little voice of common sense returned, Or not. He very well could be dangerous. After all, how many good men just break into a person's home covered in blood, refusing to speak? Feeling a bit overwhelmed by the thoughts racing in her head, Jean pushed herself up from the seat a bit too forcefully, nearly knocking her half eaten breakfast off the table. She needed air. Somewhere without his eyes on her, forcing her mind to spin wild thoughts. She went outside to the utility shed, a basket of dirty laundry (she'd grabbed the filthy jumpsuit without thinking on her way out) pressed to her hip as she exited. The washing machine was set up to cycle and she leaned against it as it filled with water.

She let out a shaky breath, tapping her fingers against the cold metal as she calmed. The machine hummed and shook as it worked, the rhythm of it lulling her into a sort of relaxing trance, broken by the buzz signaling the cycle's completion. On autopilot, she removed the garments from the washer's drum and took them to the line, performing the repetitive motion of hanging them up to dry. When done, she went back inside, seeing no sign of the man when she did. He wasn't in the kitchen, where she had left him, the only sign of him being on the table, where his empty plate sat beside the notebook. Jean was amazed to see a name written down on the paper in a childish, unpracticed scrawl. “Michael,” she read softly to herself. Well, that answers one thing, she thought, but leaves a lot more for me to wonder about.

Michael watched from threshold undetected as the woman, Jean, flit around the kitchen tidying things up and washing the plates and silverware. She moved with purpose and care, reminding him much of the few nurses who cared for him in the sanitarium. One question kept coming to him, however: how stupid was this woman? When she first saw him, she did not scream or beg, or even run away. No, this one stood her ground against him, a thing of pure evil, silent and horrific. Admittedly, it intrigued him, her strangeness. He realized that she lived alone, yet appeared no older than his escaped prey, Laurie. Young women didn't tend to live alone, only old women and men did. She would have been an easy kill, had he chosen to do so.

Why hadn't he? Well he hadn't wanted to, of course. Why hadn't he, though? Enough. He wouldn't waste time on this line of thought for longer than he needed to. Only because you have no answer, The Shape spoke. He supposed that was true. He felt the same urges he had when seeing those girls Laurie surrounded herself with. The same urge he felt when he was young, seeing the life leave Judith. Jean was beautiful, and there was only one thing a devil could ever do to beautiful things: destroy them.

Jean felt eyes on her back as she put the clean, dry plates in the cabinet. She twirled around to see Michael in the threshold, head cocked ever so slightly to the side. She started to move again, not even noticing the pause she made in her movements. She walked past Michael into the living room, deciding to straighten the book shelves and sweep the floor. The usual intense focus she would fall into refused to come, the presence of another body too distracting for her to push from her mind. Why won't he leave, she wondered quietly.

Eventually, she gave up on the endeavor, choosing to flop onto the couch, frustrated. She picked up the book on the end table. Well, I could always start that book Jo recommended to me, she considered as she opened the book. She'd only gotten a few lines in when she felt breath on her shoulder, causing her to hesitantly look to the source. Michael stood, head tilted like a confused pup. She swallowed and pointed to the book, “Have you read this one? My coworker said it was good, but I'm not very fond of scary stories,” she said, “but, if you wanted, I could read it aloud and we could experience it together? You might want to sit down if that's the case.”

Truthfully, she just wanted him to stop hovering uncomfortably behind her like a cat ready to pounce. To her surprise, he did, though a bit closer than she was comfortable with, a closeness which was increased by gravity pulling her to the low spot made by his superior weight. She cleared her throat, “Well, I suppose I should start then,” a pause as she readied herself to read, “Chapter one: Job Interview. Jack Torrance thought: Officious little prick...”

She read until she could read no more, Michael sitting as still as a cold marble slab next to her on the old couch. When she looked up, throat scratching from the use, she noticed that it was quite dark outside and, upon looking at the clock, realized that she had missed dinnertime and her stomach was quick to confirm. Dog-earring the page she was reading, Jean set the book back on the table, rushing to the kitchen to get something to eat. She eats a plate of leftover meatloaf that had been in the refrigerator, and left a plate for Michael, should he decide to have some. With a yawn, she turned off the light in the kitchen, slinking up the stairs and looking over to the couch where Michael still sat.

The bedroom door was shut firmly behind her and she turned the lock to give her peace of mind while she slept. Are you so sure that will keep you safe, her common sense questions, when he's so close by? She pushed it from her mind, it's all she could do if she wanted to sleep. Besides, becoming paranoid wouldn't serve her well either. The bed wasn't comfortable enough to counter her stress and confusion over the situation she'd gotten herself into.

Jean awoke abruptly, horribly aware on this morning that the previous day and night were not, in fact, dreams. She was also horribly aware that she would have to leave her room at some point that day. Oh shit, she thought, I have to work tonight. Snuggling further into the soft comforter on the bed, she grumbled internally. She didn't hate her job, but she sure as hell didn't like it. Annoying, entitled customers weren't the only thing she disliked about it, but they were a big part of it. The next man to call her “sugar tits”, “babydoll”, or anything overly familiar was going to have to get her fist surgically removed from his face. She was a waitress, goddamnit, not a whore! And even whores deserved more respect than that. Both she and they were just working women, after all. How could that ever be undeserving of basic human dignity?

Rolling out of bed, she hissed at the cold hardwood under her bare feet. The weather is cooling rather quickly, she noted as she put on slippers, unlocked the door, and braced herself as she tiptoed down the stairs. There was no sign of Michael, which seemed to be the norm with him. She half expected to run into him again as she had the previous morning. He wasn't in the kitchen either. Or the bathroom. Or the closet. Not hiding behind her like the shadowy creature in an old monster movie. Finally, she checked the backyard, only to see that the man's coveralls were missing and in there place the clothes he'd borrowed had been lazily draped over the line.

It was- surreal in a way. He was gone just as abruptly as he'd appeared. It was almost sad to have him gone, in a strange way. The house felt emptier, like it was missing something. She shook her head. No, this was the way it was meant to be. She could only hope that he didn't decide to return. That settles that, she thought to herself, now I can just live my life in peace. All that left for her to do was get some breakfast and enjoy some time to herself. Same thing as every day. Eggs and toast. Get dressed. Tidy the house. Sit and read. She felt odd picking up The Shining again. It's rude to read ahead when you're trying to share a book after all. She put it down without a second thought. Picking up an old favorite, she began to read it all over again. It must have been the- what? Tenth time? Something like that. It was a comforting book to read, after all.

Soon enough, it came time to ready herself for the long shift ahead. Her clean, wrinkle-free pink blouse and black skirt reflected back at her in the mirror as she pulled her hair into a half ponytail in the back. She dragged herself to the car, an old gray clunker that had to be from the last decade or so. Jean didn't really know. It was granddad's from when he was a younger man, but she remembered how her brain would shut down every time he tried to talk cars at her. At least she knew how to change tires and oil, the mechanic could worry about everything else.

The door to the diner section of the truck stop swung open as Jean walked in. There was only one patron sitting at a table, a plate of meat and potatoes set before him. He looked up at Jean and gave her a friendly nod, which she returned with a smile. At least he wouldn't be a nuisance tonight. She walked back into the kitchen where Jolene leaned against a counter top as she chatted with Gus, the cook. He was a big man who's heart was as big as his biceps. He was an amazing cook too and, oftentimes, it made Jean wonder why he hadn't become a chef at some big fancy restaurant. He noticed her and grinned.

“Hey Jean, did you have a good day off?” he asked, deep voice carrying over to her. Jolene seemed to light up, turning to look at Jean.

“Yeah, it's never as fun around here without you!” she said. Jean smiled.

“Oh, y'know, same old, same old. I started reading that book you recommended to me though!”

“Really? What do you think? I know you're not one for scary stories, but I thought you might like this one.”

“Pretty good so far, actually. I didn't think I'd like it, but I've enjoyed it quite a bit. I like the atmosphere the author's set.” Jolene smiled at that.

“That makes me really happy, Jean. Now if only you'd just-”

The redhead was cut off by the jingle of the door as a customer stepped into the establishment. Jean flashed her a small smile as she made her way over to where the man sat down. She knew exactly what Jo was about to say next and felt as though she'd dodged a bullet when she got away. Now she'd just have to be sure she wasn't hit by the ricochet when they took their break. “Now sir, what can I get you?”

Finally, a quiet moment came where no customers sat in the dining area. Jean took the moment to join Jo as she left out the back door. Jolene stood in the light of the small bulb that flickered above the back door. She puffed away at a cigarette that she clenched between her peach toned lips. A grin quirked up to her lips when she noticed Jean, who sighed as she prepared for the usual lecture Jo liked to give her.

“Oh Jean, you wouldn't believe the guy that came in here yesterday,” Jo began, taking a pull off the dwindling white stick, “guy waltzes in like he thinks he's hot shit. Couldn't be any older than, what? Sixteen, I'd guess. Just some dumb fucking kid. And he says to me Ay, dollface, how's 'bout you get me a beer?”

She throws her hair around, “As if he thinks we won't card him, ha! I tell him about as much and say I'll bring him a soda, so Mr Tough Guy gets pissy, but agrees. When I leave to go get it though, the little bastard grabs my ass! What a pig, am I right?

Well, I know he's lucky that you weren't here because you would've been on him like that!” she snaps for effect, “well, Gus just threw him out and made sure I was ok, but still, what a little creep!” She finishes, throwing her hands up in the air as she did.

“Wow,” Jean began, a bit confused as she always was when Jo would go off on a rant like that, “the nerve of some people! You're right, I would've taught him some manners right then and there. Little bastard.” She swore.

“It's no big deal, I guess. It's not like I'm hurt or anything.”

“That's not the point! You know I can't stand when people like that act like they can just do whatever the hell they want.”

“I know, but there's no need to worry about it. Gus took care of it.”

“Not as harshly as he should have.”

“Well, you know that's just not how he rolls.”

“I do.”

“Now-”

“Oh no.”

“Don't you Oh no me! You didn't call my buddy Robert back!” She threw her hands to her hips, her brows furrowed.

“Jo, please-”

“You promised me that you'd give him a chance, Jean.”

“I did. We just didn't hit it off, I guess.”

“Ugh, that doesn't mean you get to be rude to the guy. The best thing to do is tell him up front.”

“I'm sorry,” and she was. Jo was just trying to help her, in her own way. This was the third guy she'd set Jean up with. It was sweet of her, but the help was unneeded and very much unwanted.

“I'm just- Well, I'm just worried about you. I don't want you to end up a lonely old woman, bitter because you never found anyone.”

“According to you, I'm there already,” Jean said, chuckling.

“Laugh it up, but when that happens you'll think: Oh, how I wish I listened to Jolene! She's always been so smart, why did I disregard her advice!” she danced about dramatically as she said this, throwing an arm over her head with the last word, making Jean snort-laugh.

“Alright, alright, you have a point.”

“Yes, I do! Now do you promise to keep an open mind?”

“Of course.”

“Pinkie promise?”

“Yes,” she said, holding out the finger, which Jo hooked with her own. The door opened gently and Gus stopped it with his foot.

“Something I missed?” he asked softly.

“No, no,” Jo laughed, “nothing at all!” Gus rolled his eyes.

“A'right then, well your break's up, ladies,” he said, holding the door open more so that they could enter.

Jean felt light as she drove home from work. Her shoulders were relaxed as the blackness surrounding her passed by. Talking to Jo and Gus was like therapy for her. She could almost push Michael and his intrusion from her mind. Almost. She was still a little worried that he'd show back up in the night. Thankfully, there was no figure on her couch when she unlocked and opened the door (making very sure to lock it back after her). There was no man sat at her table, no towering mass in her corner with intense black eye holes that made her feel weak and small. And that was how it stayed for days. That's how it stayed when she woke up to eat eggs and toast. That's how it was when she went to work and when she got home. For about two weeks.

She got home after a late shift, more tired than she had been in a long while. It had been the stress, she guessed, of Jo reminding her that she had no plans for the holidays that were rapidly approaching. No loving husband and in laws to fill her home with joyful voices and good memories. Being alone had its downsides, it seemed. She flopped straight into bed with a muffled groan of annoyance, then fell asleep with ease. It was also with ease, however, that she was awoken. First slowly by the creaking of her window and the cool breeze that came through it, but then abruptly by the sudden presence at the end of her bed.

The foreboding black shadow just stood there, the moonlight obscuring the figure in silhouette. She at once felt panic rush through her veins as she kicked her legs out. They connected with the figure's abdomen, forcing a deep strangled grunt from it. She flipped out of the bed, staggering to her feet as they tried to carry her to the exit. Her arm was grabbed, causing her to slip and nearly fall, had she not been pulled roughly to the figure's solid chest. She struck out with her free hand wildly, which was caught in a vice-like grip and, using the leverage gained from having her hands in its grasp, the figure pushed her roughly against the wall, pinning her and knocking the air from her lungs. The figure breathed heavily.

Jean squirmed helplessly against the wall, her torso bared vulnerably to her attacker. She squeezed her eyes shut, turning her head away and holding her breath as she waited for the inevitable. When nothing happened she opened her eyes and looked back, catching the sight of a telltale white mask and blue coveralls. “What the hell, Michael?” She breathed through a clenched jaw. He responded with a head tilt, as though he saw no issue with the situation at hand.

“You can't just do that!” She yelled, which amused him because he could, and he did.

“Can I at least have my arms back?” She asked, as he pretended not to hear her, keeping her arms in his cruel grip.

“I'm sorry I kicked you, but you have to understand that I was afraid I would really be killed- Or worse!” Were he any other man, Michael would have chuckled. Not yet, Jean, the Shape supplied for him. That would have to wait. Regardless, he released her wrists, which she rubbed gratefully. She left the room, pausing to look over her shoulder expectantly, almost like she was waiting for him to follow her. And so he did, down the stairs and into the living room where she plopped herself down on the couch. He sat beside her, feeling as she leaned against him at first, then readjusted herself on the couch.

“It's been a while, huh?” She said softly, peering at him nervously. “Well, I'll admit, I can't get back to sleep with all this excitement. I'd like to read our book. Would you like that?” He tilted his head, first to one side, then to the other, which she took as a yes of sorts. She cleared her throat, then picked up the book, “Alright-y, where were we? Aha! There!” And she began to read.

Michael didn't pay much attention to what she was reading to him. On occasion, he would tune back in to her words to catch bits of the plot. Not that it interested him, but her voice, on the other hand- It was mesmerizing. He'd heard women's voices before. Obviously. Usually they held the tone of disinterested disgust, much like the nurses at the sanitarium. Sometimes it was in the midst of a pleasured moan, much like his sister, Judith mere moments before her life ended. Best of all was their fear, their pain, their death. The sound of it intoxicating, filling him with a sense of control and satisfaction. Something about Jean's voice, however, was very different.

When he heard her voice, regardless of what he would think on first seeing her (that being the desire to snuff her out like a candle), he would begin to feel a sense of calm wash over him. He felt like a child again, hearing his mother speak to him in soft tones. Mother. She wasn't quite like his mother, this woman, but it was a closer comparison than to either of his sisters. She was caring. Not like the nurses, with their fake chipper tones and needles filled with numbing drugs. No, she was real. For a moment, when she bandaged his wounds, he remembered Sunday school and the stories of angels he was told. Is this an angel? He asked the Shape. No, it responded angrily, this is flesh and blood. This is for you to rip and shred. To break into a million pieces. But not now, not yet. Now you wait. Now you remain patient.

And so he did.

#michael myers #slasher x oc #slashers #michael myers x oc #gopher writes #I'm Not Lonely

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angsty-nerd · 5 years

Text

Fictober 20

#20. "You could talk about it, you know”

Roswell, NM fanfic

Three conversations: 1. Liz & Kyle; 2. Rosa, Maria, & Liz; and, 3. Rosa & Max.

Beneath the cut for length!

It was nearly midnight when the light knock on the front door of Max's house pulled Liz's attention from her reading. She groaned, frustrated by the interruption, but there was no one else to answer the door. Isobel had gone home, and Rosa went to bed at least an hour earlier. Michael was probably picking a fight with some rednecks at the Wild Pony. He seemed to prefer bruised knuckles over actually doing anything useful these days. It made Liz want to strangle him...except she didn't have the time or patience to fix him too right now.

She didn't even try to hide her irritation when she opened the door to let Kyle in. It was clear that he had come straight from work. He was still wearing his surgical scrubs, although he had at least ditched his white coat.

"What is it?" Liz demanded. "I'm busy going through the Project Shepherd files."

"You find anything?"

"Not yet."

"You want help?"

Liz sighed. "I mean…you can backcheck me if you want. Make sure I didn't skip over something important. But I want to see every page of this myself. I don't want to risk missing out on a single clue that could be the key to bringing Max back."

She turned and went back to the couch, hoping that Kyle would take the hint that she wanted to work, not talk. Of course, he didn't, which just increased her frustration.

"Liz, how long has it been since you slept?"

"I'm fine, Kyle. I just need answers."

"Have you eaten?"

"Yeah," Liz replied, distracted as she opened the next file and started reading. "There's leftover pizza in the fridge if you want some."

"I'm worried about you. You're not going to do Max any good if you destroy yourself on the path to healing him. He wouldn't want that, Liz."

Liz froze, a sharp pain rising in her gut, and before she could even fight it, tears were falling from her eyes. The file folder she was reading slid from her lap, forgotten, as she stood and began pacing around the room, trying to calm herself down. It was impossible though. It was Max's house. Everywhere she looked, everything she saw, reminded her of him.

It was like she was surrounded by all of the best parts of him...his books, so many books, which were like his incredible mind and imagination. There, in a corner, sat his white cowboy hat, part of his uniform. It was like a symbol of his honor and his dedication to working hard to do the right thing, to make up for the scars that haunted his soul. In a corner was a small framed family photo...loyalty, love.

Liz dropped down on the bench in front of his bookshelf, now openly weeping, while glaring at her hands. Her stupid, useless, human hands. Max's hands were like magic...gentle when they touched her, electric with passion and the literal energy from his powers. His hands worked miracles. They were weathered and calloused and absolutely perfect. She loved his hands.

Her hands were soft. Weak. Ordinary. Human. Her hands could flip pages of a file, or mix chemicals in a lab, but they couldn't wake the dead.

They couldn't save him.

An incoherent moan of agony escaped from her lungs as she just sat and fell apart. But within moments, her useless hands were encompassed by larger, warmer ones.

"It's okay to fall apart," Kyle murmured. "Just let it out, Liz. It's okay."

"No," Liz cried. "It's not okay. Nothing is okay. I need to keep it together."

“You could talk about it, you know?” Kyle suggested. "It might help you cope if you stop bottling everything up inside. I can listen, you know, if you want me to."

Liz sniffled and wiped her eyes, looking down at Kyle, who was kneeling in front of her.

"It's just...the pressure is getting to me and I feel like I'm all on my own here. Michael's a mess and Isobel's got her own shit to deal with. I feel like it's all on me, and I don't have any superpowers. I'm just...human. And sometimes I'm just so pissed off at Max for putting me in this position. But then, when I see Rosa's face or hear her voice, I'm so happy to have her back. It's so complicated and hard to reconcile this incredible pain and incredible happiness all mixed up together."

Kyle nodded and gestured for her to keep talking. And the floodgates opened.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The future was kind of weird.

And really, was it even the future, if it was also the present? These were the kinds of complex questions that would get caught in Rosa's mind, cycling around and around like a hamster on a wheel, until she gave herself a headache and felt like she was going crazy.

The world was full of contradictions now. She lived in both the future and the present. She was both Liz's big sister and younger sister. Izzy both was and wasn't her murderer. Papi both was and wasn't her father.

Some days it all made her so dizzy that she just wanted to lock herself in a dark room and hide out. No stimulation at all. Strange how her brain craved that now. Did it have something to do with being a former dead person? Is that what death is like?

At least it was better than what she used to do when she got overwhelmed. Back in the day she would have drunk herself into a stupor, maybe gotten high, and then released her frustration through some good ol’ fashioned vandalism.

Well, the vandalism part, at least, she still had a taste for. She always wanted to try to get a little tagging in on the rare occasions when she could convince someone to let her leave the house. Somehow though, they always managed to figure out what she was up to when she tried to sneak away. Everyone was so afraid that she'd be seen, and no one had quite figured out how to explain to the town how Rosa Ortecho had been resurrected from her grave.

So the night that she dug out a hoodie large enough to hide her face, and snuck out late at night to wander the town and maybe leave some street art in a few key locations, she knew that if anyone noticed she was gone, she'd be in deep shit. But she didn't really care.

It was freeing, walking alone, breathing the cool, fresh night air. On the edge of town, she couldn't resist leaving her classic UFO graphic on the backside of a convenience store that she used to be able to count on to never card her. But she knew that her old art would leave too many clues for people to find her, and she had already developed a new graphic to spread her fingerprints all over this town.

A ghost.

She left a ghost on the back wall of the Crashdown, and one on the side of the J.P. Wright building. She placed her mark on the Mexican restaurant and the high school.

Her mistake was when she was working on the dumpster behind the Wild Pony.

"Hey!" An angry and familiar voice shouted. "Maybe you could lay off the vandalism on my property. I can get Deputy Evans over here in a flash to arrest you."

Rosa froze. She had been begging to go see Maria, but Liz refused. No one could know, she kept saying. Not even Maria. The less people who knew, the safer she'd be. Maybe deep down, that was the point of this whole rebellious excursion. Maybe she just wanted to get caught, right here, right now, by her former best friend.

Liz was going to kill her.

"You can call Max all you want. I guarantee he's not coming to arrest me. He's not doing much of anything these days."

Slowly, she turned around, keeping her head low so that the hood continued to block her face.

"What are you talking about?" Maria demanded to know.

Rosa lifted her head and locked eyes with her best friend. "You really are out of the loop, aren't you? I knew there had to be a reason that Liz wouldn't let me see you, but I didn't realize that you didn't know anything at all."

Maria dropped the bag of trash in her hands and took a step backwards, fear and shock emanating from her.

"Rosa?"

"Hola!" Rosa greeted her with a wiggle of her slightly paint-stained fingers.

"I don't understand. How is this possible?"

"Liz said the same thing when she first saw me, and she at least knew enough to put the pieces together. The short version is that I died. And then Max Evans decided that Liz was better off having me in her life than him, and now I'm alive and he isn't."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Rosa followed Maria into the Wild Pony where they spent about an hour talking and catching up on Maria's life while Maria finished cleaning up the bar for the evening. Once she was done, Maria led Rosa out to her truck and drove her back out to Max's house.

Liz was pacing the house, frantic with worry when they walked in. She gaped at the sight of Maria with her sister for a moment, before starting to unload about how upset she was all over Rosa. But right when she was getting to her rant about how irresponsible Rosa was, Maria held up a hand to silence Liz, who immediately complied.

"Liz, do you know what Rosa was doing when I found her?" Liz shook her head. "She was painting a ghost onto the dumpster at the Wild Pony. From what she told me, she left ghosts all over town. Why do you think that is, Liz?"

Liz sat down, head in her hands. "Because that's what Rosa feels like. Because she's not really living. Because I'm keeping her on lockdown."

"Sure." Maria agreed. "That's part of it. But I don't think that's all of it. Rosa died, Liz. She was dead for 10 years. And now she's not. That's got to be a hell of a weird transition."

Rosa nodded. "I don't even know if I belong here anymore. And I can't find out if I'm locked in all the time."

Liz looked at her sister thoughtfully. "You know, someone pointed something out to me recently. It's really simple, but it is so logical and it helped so much. And I'm not sure it would have worked if he hadn't said it to me." Liz paused and smiled up at her sister. "You could talk about it, you know? I'm here to listen. And if you don't want to talk to me, you can always talk to Maria, or Kyle. Whoever."

"I know that, Liz," Rosa promised. "Just give me some time.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"You know, we might be the only two people on earth that have died, and been raised from the dead. We're like, a crazy social experiment with unknown consequences that has never happened before and might never happen again."

"You're right," Max chuckled, giving Rosa a wry smile. "It's one thing we'll always have in common at least."

"My sister should put that science nerd brain of hers to work and, like, document this shit. Write a research paper or whatever on us. I mean, obviously she can't publish it or anything, but at least she could, like, bury it in a time capsule so that at the end of the world or something, someone will know that this crazy thing happened."

"There's just one problem." Max mused. "There's no control for comparison. And human to alien can't be compared like apples to apples."

"Point." Rosa agreed. They fell silent for a moment, but suddenly Rosa's eyes widened as a solution popped into her brain. "Well then, maybe instead of Liz documenting it as science, you should use your book nerd brain and write it down as if it were fiction!"

"Hmm…" Max pondered. "Not the worst idea."

"Maybe it would help you…" Rosa suggested carefully. "You know, with the nightmares."

Max's eyes shot up to meet hers. "Liz told you about…"

"Yeah, sorry." Rosa admitted. "She's worried, Max."

"There's nothing she can do." Max argued. "She's with me. She's comforting me when I wake up. She's...she's doing plenty, Rosa. This is my problem to work through."

“You could talk about it, you know?”

"What?"

"It doesn't have to be with Liz," Rosa reminded him. "You could talk to one of your siblings if you want. Hell, you could talk to me, if you want Max...the only other person in this world that somewhat understands what you've been through."

Max found himself wondering why they hadn't talked about it yet. He and Rosa did have a shared experience of sorts, and yet it had been a month since he woke up, and yet, never once had they talked about their deaths and ressurections. Of course, they also rarely spent time alone together like this.

"What was it like for you?" He asked her gently.

Rosa looked at him thoughtfully for a long moment before replying. "It was like time travel." She explained. "One minute it was 2008 and the next minute it was 2018. All of you were suddenly older than me. Technology has changed. And I was a living ghost."

"No, that's not what I meant." Max clarified. "Not the adjustment period. What was it like for you when you were dead?"

She searched his face, a worried expression in her eyes. "That doesn't change my answer, Max. It was like a snap for me. I was in that cave arguing with Izzy...Noah...whoever…and then all of a sudden you were dead next to me. The ten years I was dead? It was just...nothing."

Her answer shocked him, but he was grateful to hear it. It was easier that way. Easier for her to adjust, to live a life now. She was lucky.

"Max, please...tell me that it was the same for you." Rosa begged.

"I wish I could do that." He admitted apologetically, "But I can't. I mean, there was nothing for me too. No light, no feelings, no sound...but the one thing that was there was time. I felt every minute, every day that I was dead. It was like suffering in a lonely, empty, dark world with the absolute certainty that this was going to be the rest of your existence. Waiting alone for anything to break the never-ending monotony. I don't think I've ever been so relieved in my life as I was when Liz pulled me out of that place. I've never been so happy to be alive."

"But sleep reminds you of that place," Rosa realized.

"Exactly." Max confirmed. "I would love to get to a point where I can sleep and dream in peace again. And I think I will, with time. Having Liz next to me helps more than she could possibly know."

"Oh, Max," Rosa cried, reaching over to give him a hug. "Consider me here for you if you ever need an ear. Just call me your ghost-zombie therapy buddy. We’re both gonna be here to help you through this.”

#fictober19 #my fanfic #rnm gen fanfic #liz ortecho #max evans #rosa ortecho #maria deluca #kyle valenti

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taikutsux · 4 years

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My Dairy from the past

I was thinking about it to publish some parts of my old dairy. It should help to let go of my past and maybe help me to think more positively about my future.

I translated the first part of it in english. English is not my mother tongue, so it won’t be in an perfect english.

I don’t want to seek attention with it. I just want to let go of my past like that and maybe give some hope to other people, which suffer the same. My life is still not perfect and a lot of shitty stuff still happen, but I don’t give up.

The Dairy of a Borderline Patient (written from 2012-2014)

My Story begins now.

I dedicate this Book to my Family and my future kids.

Although they won’t understand this book from the beginning they will in a later moment.

That life is not easy, but that they should fight for it. Everything which tries to bring us down will make us stronger and ready for the next fight in our life.

The life with an illness, which I didn’t know. I already have it since 7 years and I still don’t fully understand it. A mixture of many, different kind of mental illnesses. Under them Depression, suicidal thoughts and even some attention deficit. But still not everybody has the same symptoms. Some have more depression and that’s why it’s hard sometimes to really diagnose it. While there are some which like to get all the attention they could get. But one thing everyone has in common. They hurt their bodies. If they cut themselves, fight or take any kind of drug. In the end it is all the same. To hurt themselves and their bodies. I belong to those, which hurt themselves and don’t even feel the pain. I suffered under Depression, but never had suicidal thoughts. That’s why I got diagnosed six years after my mental illness broke out. I never showed typical Borderline Personality Disorder Symptoms. I never wanted to show them. I never wanted to accept, that I’m mentally ill. Till I made a 2 month Therapy, but to understand my mental illness you need to know about my life and here it is.

My dairy….

1.Chapter

My life was complete until it changed in a second of carelessness. You can’t imagine how it is to get teared apart from a life which you love and thrown into a hole. A black hole. One which silence all those happy memories and exchange them with awful, painful memories. I lived for years in this hole and I wasted my half life to crawl out of that hole. You maybe don’t know what I mean with that, although it is so easy. Imagine a perfect life. You have a family, siblings and you love this life, but one day you change. Your heart is getting cold and you fall into that hole. You start to hate yourself and everybody around you. But you still long for that life you had before. You yearn for the love and affection and you start to flee from the dreadfulness. But after every attempt to rescue yourself you’re falling deeper and it gets worse. Worse then it was before. And then. One day. the day comes, when you already stayed in that hole to long, that you can’t free yourself alone. Around you people change to monsters and you’re the knight which strikes them down to free yourself. In the end you see those monsters weren’t monsters, but your family you killed. And so you fall deeper and deeper, till you can’t free yourself any more. You got eaten up from your self-hate. Your body is decorated with scares, which you inflict yourself in your doubt. Scares, which show you daily what you’ve done. Lives destroyed, like yours. Nobody frees you. They’re all gone. Left you behind, because they couldn’t live with you any more. In your dreams you always see them. First you think, it’s a good dream, till you realize that it is not. It’s a nightmare, which haunts you every night. A nightmare, in which you see your whole family being murdered. Only yourself the murderer spares. Because it’s your second self, which killed all people around you. And so again you’re alone. Even in your dreams. Every time you wake up you hope, your dreams aren’t true. Not real. Your family abandoned you. And now you’re alone again. Nobody is there, when you don’t feel well. Everything you touch break in front of your eyes. You destroy everything, even though you don’t want to. But you still do it. You see it. That you do everything wrong, but you can’t do anything against it. Because it’s yourself which is doing it. It feels like somebody else does it. And this alter ego you can’t control. You lost the control over this creature. And day for day this creature takes over your body. Adds scares to your body, although you fight deep inside against it. But each time you try to fight against it, it gets worse. You scream that it should leave you alone and that it should stop destroying your life. But it doesn’t listen to you any more. It got fed up to long with grief and pain. You, yourself were to long controlled by this powerful, black creature. Your old self disappears more and more. You start to fed yourself to that monster. Because every escape is useless. The meaning of life long gone. Because that monster already enslaved you to long. You think it controls your life. That it’s your fate to end like that. Though it’s not like that and you know it. But you don’t want to see it. You fall more and more in that grief. Everything around you is fading. Everything which made you happy in life, fills you with pain. Your love of life disappeared. And sometimes you think about it to end your life, because you can’t take it any more. But you know, you could never have the courage to do so. And so you continue living. Even though it hurts. You always see a bit of hope. Because you never were a person which gave up. You always said to yourself, those which give up, don’t deserve it to live in this world. Those words always bring you back to reality. The world in which you want to live again. And so you continue fighting, although you fall deeper through it. You never give up. You’re not such a person, which thinks that everything will be better, if you end your life.

And so I started to write poetry. Peotry, beautiful one, but full with pain. This was the way to let all my feelings go. To write down everything, which bothered me. And every time I done that, I got a piece of my old self in return. I’m thankful to the world, that something like Paper and Pens exist. Without it I would have never gotten that far. They helped me every day to return to my old life. I had the monster under control again and every thing seemed perfect. But every time I wrote, it got back to me another time. Faster and faster it catch up with me. Till it had me under control again. So I felt deeper than before. Couldn’t free me again. And so I started writing again. But this time it didn’t work. That Monster had me too much under his control. So I couldn’t return to my real life. And so I gave up. The first time in my life, that I gave up. I regret it till today, that I done that. Therefore I gave my alter ego the control over me. I just didn’t had any strength leftover anymore. I already had to go through that since years. I still don’t know, till today, what triggered it. I only know, that I was not myself anymore. I was a different person. I became a monster, which thought about bad things everyday to hurt people. The reason for that behaviour, I don’t know. All of a sudden I got pulled out of my life and created a second personality. I never thought, that it would be a gruesome one. Did it developed to protect myself? Or why am I, how I am right now? There must be a reason for all of that. It couldn’t develop from nothing. Those questions I ask myself till this day.

If you read till here and you need somebody to talk, you can write me. I will listen to your problems, when nobody else want to or you can’t talk with them about it.

#my dairy

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yearn-to-write · 5 years

Text

HEART OF THE FIRE (original shortstory)

I pulled the makeshift blanket closer around me when the last rays of sunlight sunk down below the horizon.

It wasn’t cold yet, it would still be pleasantly warm for a few hours. Watching the stars twinkle and the clouds travel across the moon was the best way for me to clear my head. Maybe the Gods took pity on me and kept me company on these lonely nights. They were the ones who decided if the crops would grow, if the sun would come up again, if you would get pregnant, and if they valued you enough to bring you to their palace before old age.

As I lay beneath the stars I hear birds chirping away on songs no human may ever understand, and I hear the leaves of the trees harmonize with the wind.

“Are the Gods speaking to you, Allhard” The light whisper came from behind me. I had not noticed that one of the elder women of our tribe stood behind me.

“I’m just watching the theatre of constellations, Grandmother Mania”

I took off the blanket and laid it down on the grass for her to sit on. I looked over at her and watch her face in the moonlight. Her eyes are black in the night but i’ve yet to see grass greener than her eyes when the sunlight hits them. She has wrinkles around her eyes, the kind that shows a life filled with laughter and mischief. As I memorize the freckles the sun has given her over the years, her calloused hand reaches over and puts a lock of my red hair behind my ear.

“A wise child you are, to watch what the Gods have painted on the sky for us. Yet I cannot help but wonder if we can understand them, truly.”

She’s reaching old age, but the liveliness in her eyes would not let you believe that she has seen so many moons come and go.

“Tell me, why are you not sleeping?”

“Ariel got her first bleeding before bedtime, I have to wake the Men so they can prepare for the ceremony.”

A girls first bleeding is a joyous thing worth of celebration. It is the Gods way of showing she’s ready to choose a path in life. The first part of the ceremony would start tomorrow morning when Ariel must go alone out into the woods and survive on her own for four days and four nights. When she leaves with what she can carry, a fire must be lit and kept alive until nightfall. If the fire dies we must all call her in and lay for a day and pray to the Goddess of fertility Nalul. That is what we call the Parting.

I picked up a dandelion and twirled it between my fingers.

“Is there anything the hunters can do?”

“A couple of deers and a boar would suffice”

**********

In the morning the Hunters gathered after breakfast and ventured out into the woods. There we spread out and searched for game. Me and Mother Huntress kept our eyes and ears open for any sign of life while we soundlessly walked to the lake to see if the nets we’ve put in the day before had caught any fish.

The little glade was green and smelled wonderfully of oak and beech. The bushes were speckled with color from berries and dragonflies buzzed around.

After the fish had been put into large wicker baskets we, to our surprise, heard the signal a Huntress whistles after she’s killed something. We have two signals, one for a kill, and one for help. They are made to sound like birdsong, as not to scare away animals or draw much attention to ourselves.

With light steps we hurried to where the hunter would be and find that a deer has been killed. It wasn’t far away from home and there was a half eaten apple beside it. Mother Huntress inspected the deer and it seemed healthy enough for us to eat.

“Go back to fetch the fish and help Arla back with the food. Then return.”

“Yes Mother Huntress”

I came back with two baskets filled with fish, which are connected by string so nothing would fall out, and helped Arla back with the game. Even though we were used to haul game back home we both were soon out of breath. The men took the food and started to rinse the fish and skin the deer and me and Arla were off again.

By two days we had caught three deers and a boar, and the Men were busy preparing feast.

They had picked fruits and berries, a beautiful display of color. The smell of freshly baked bread filled the air and my stomach grumbled. I nicked an apple from a basket and watched as the Men worked on.

“Allhard” came a shout from behind me. “Don’t be lazy and come help us.”

One of my sisters threw a piece of wood my way and pointed to where the Parting fire, and all the fires before that, had been. I threw it in, and as I did, ash flew up in a small cloud.

After all the Hunters, Warriors, and Explorers had made sure all the firewood and three stones with smooth surface was in place we took a break and ate.

Soon Ariel would return from The Parting and the celebrations would begin.

**********

The next night, when the moon started to travel across the sky, there was a buzz of excitement in the air. The Grandmothers and Grandfathers had eaten before sundown, and now the Grandmothers played music on drums. The beat of the drums was like a steady heartbeat, and I felt like my soul belonged to it.

Our tribe gathered at the tables laden with food and wine that surrounded the unlit bonfire.

All the Grandfathers were in the praying position, eyes closed, a low humming emerging from their throats. The Men kneeled in a row, heads bent to the ground, waiting for Ariel to choose one of them.

I saw Ariel, dressed in a linen dress, tied in the back, stand up and circle them once. When she stopped she held up a hand to silence the Grandmothers music. The Grandfathers low humming stopped too and a heavy silence fell, interrupted only by crickets.

“It is my demand that Reon is to be the inseminator. I see he has prayed well, cared for the children and fulfilled all his other duties as a Man. May Nalul, O Goddess of fertility and war, be with me in my judgement.”

Ariel reached out her hand for him to take. He stood up and together they lit the fire in silence.

“May the feast begin!” Her voice thundered over us and a roar emerged from our throats. The music started again and the Women started to eat and drink. The wine tasted sweet, the fruit sweeter, yet sweetest of all was the laughter. Not before long my cheeks started to ache because of all the smiling, though the wine numbed some of it.

Before long we were all drunk and laughing, full and happy as we toasted to Ariel, wishing her good luck. My sisters and I shared stories with each other, and we laughed when a couple of children tried to nick some bread from the table.

The Men and the children ate after the Women had had their share and, the Grandmothers went around with a knife and a bowl to collect just a few drops of blood of every person of the tribe.

“Give me you hand, Allhard”

Grandmother Mania stood behind me with a knife and a bowl. I did as she asked of me and reached out my hand to her. She slid the knife across the back of my hand and held it still, letting the blood drip down into the bowl and mix with the red, thick blend. It stung a little but I know how fast it would heal, and soon I had forgotten about it.

The Grandmothers did this so they could wash the weapons in it.

The heat emerging from the fire licked my face and sweat started to form on my forehead. I watched Ariel and Reon laying on a rug, laughing and listening to the music and in my drunken state I felt such deep joy for her.

I remembered when that was me, how I had nervously fidgeted with the hem of my dress. I remember being scared of humiliating myself in front of everyone, and maybe even in front of the Gods. The Man I had chosen had calmed me down enough not to panic but he could not do what wine did. Ariel seemed so comfortable and calm, like her place really was in the heart of a celebration.

I took my plate and put berries, bread and meat on it, took my goblet and filled it and went over to her.

“I will now bring you food from my very own plate. May the food represent that I vow to defend your life as I would my own for as long as I live.”

I fed her the food and held the goblet up to her lips.

A few of my sisters stood behind me, waiting their turn to vow loyalty to Ariel.

When she had finished the food I stood up, threw the leftovers in the fire, for Nalul, and went back to the table to once again fill up on wine. I watched my sisters repeat the same words to her and feed her. This tradition was to prove that even if one day Ariel is incapable of taking care of herself she will not be left for dead, to show that we love her and value her.

When Ariel had been fed the music stopped and silence fell.

“Nalul, Oh Goddess of fertility and war, hear our voices and guide Ariel in her choice of weapon.”

Grandmother Manias voice carried far. One couldn’t help but to pay attention when she spoke and I admired her for it, wishing one day I would be as mighty as she.

“My child, step forward to the stones and pray”

Ariel stood before the stones and angled her up to the sky, praying silently to herself, her dark silhouette making her look powerful. On each stone laid a weapon.

Grandmother Mania walked over to the stones, dipping a cloth into the bowl. The cloth came up red, dripping with blood. With the now bright red cloth in her hand she grabbed the first weapon, the dagger, and washed it in the blood.

The dagger represents the explorer and if Ariel want to spend her days exploring she must choose the dagger and successfully birth a living child. If she does not bear a child there must be another ceremony and she must pick another weapon until she does. Only then do we know if the Gods wants her to explore or not.

The same goes for the other two weapons which are the spear, which represents the Hunter, and the ax for the Warrior.

The Grandmothers have told stories of why the celebrations began and how Women had finally conquered the Man, how the Men now are domesticated.

The men never gets to experience such closeness with the Gods because they cannot get pregnant, and all they are needed for is to raise the children with love and patience, feed the tribe, and care for the land and the crops. They are forbidden to pursue a profession ever since the Women managed to attain a position where they rule over the Men.

When at last the ax had been washed in the blood of the tribe and Ariel had finished her prayer it was time for her to choose. She looked at the weapons displayed before her and with only a hint of hesitation she picked up the ax.

“Nalul, bear onto me a child so that I may become a Warrior”

The Men took off their and the children's shirts and with the ash from The Parting painted religious symbols. When their and the children's upper bodies were covered in them they spread out in a circle around the fire and waited. The Grandfathers bent their heads backwards, up towards the sky and they started to pray, they would have to do this until Reon had finished inseminating Ariel.

The Grandmothers started to play on the drums again, a slow yet steady beat.

Reon and Ariel stood up and he undressed her and the fabric fell to the earth.

The drums picked up the pace and I started to sing with my sisters, a loud song that was history combined with prayers.

“O the mans back became weak, heavy with crime.

He fell before the women, a shift of the wind.

The woman took his place, ‘tis the greatest time.

She shook the world, no more sin.

Nalul stood by and blessed her children

now a place where a man stays hidden.

And the men took their rightful place, a mere pet

so the mighty could do their duty.

Nalul said to the man to see a woman as a threat.

That his doom is forever to resist her beauty.

We thank Nalul for power

We thank her for all

Finally the men cower

and women stand tall.

O how liberating to answer only to you

And your equals in the realm of blue”

The song went on and our voices became one with the wind and crackling fire. I sang until it felt like my lungs would give out, all the time with a smile on my face. I put my arm around a sisters shoulders and together we swayed with the music.

Reon began pleasing Ariel, and she responded well.

The Men and the children laughed as they danced around the consummating pair. Traditionally the Men didn’t sing but some joined in anyways and some of my sisters joined the dance.

The Grandfathers deep chanting of the prayers continued in the background and, it felt like a dream. The heat licked my face.

One of my sisters came and filled my goblet, continuing to sing and smile.

The dancing Mens sweat gave new shapes to the symbols on their bodies and the children kept on dancing with the unnerving excitement a child can have. They joy in the air was almost palpable and, the hectic, sweaty, loud, and chaotic dance went on.

The only time we stopped singing was when Ariel screamed out and the song changed momentarily to a cheer and then continued.

Finally when Reon slumped over after having spilled himself into her and Ariel laid there panting beside him we cheered. The Grandfathers prayers first became louder and faster and suddenly stopped. So did the music and left was the sound of the crackling fire.

Mother Warriors voice boomed over us when she dedicated a toast to Ariel. We all drank again, this time Ariel with us.

The men came and helped Reon to bed, shielding him with a sheet. He needed his rest for tomorrow he would have to attend to Ariel, to show gratitude and devotion.

Ariel too needed her rest but calmly got up, not bothering getting dressed.

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deathishauntedbyhumans · 6 years

Text

New In Town

Stranger: [HS AU] Hey, I hope this isn't weird or anything, but my name is Alexander Hamilton, and I'm new in town. The Washingtons just adopted me. They said you live down the street from here and that I should introduce myself, so. Hi. -AH

You: I'm Aaron Burr. You probably already knew that, though. AB

Stranger: Yeah, they told me. They've got, like, a list of everyone? On the fridge? I didn't know people actually did that. -AH But apparently it's useful when they need someone to mow the lawn or whatever. I don't know. -AH Anyway. Hi. -AH

You: The Washingtons are nice. I used to watch their cat when they went out of town. AB Are you going to be going to school around here, now? AB

Stranger: I will be, starting Monday! I'm excited. -AH

You: We can walk together, if you'd like. It isn't that far, and I usually walk by myself. AB

Stranger: That would be nice. Thank you. They've already bought me a bunch of nice supplies. It probably says something about me that nice pens are one of my favorite things I have right now. -AH

You: It's good to be prepared. AB Where are you from? AB

Stranger: Ah. -AH Nevis. -AH

You: I... don't know where that is. AB

Stranger: Yeah, that's fair. -AH It's an island in the Caribbean. -AH

You: Oh. That's pretty cool. AB Do you like it here so far? AB

Stranger: It's definitely an adjustment. I've never been off the island before. There's so much more /happening/ here, though. Nevis is- tiny. And quiet. -AH

You: I've never been out of the country before. I can't imagine a place that's tiny and quiet. It sounds nice. AB How long have you been here, so far? AB

Stranger: It takes less than a day to make a trip all the way around the island, and that's not even in a car. -AH About four days? -AH

You: Wow. To... all of that. AB Well. Welcome to crowded and loud. No wonder you're still adjusting. AB [...] I'm sorry if that came out wrong. I'm not always very good at texting the right things. AB

Stranger: Ha, you're fine. I get what you're saying. It's an adventure. I'm excited, though. I mean, I've wanted to come to America for a while now, so. Now I'm here. -AH

You: There's definitely a lot to take in. AB Would you like to... come over? I'm better at introducing myself in person, and I'd like to make a better first impression. AB Only if you aren't busy, of course. I'm sure you have a lot to do, since you're still fairly new here. AB

Stranger: I appreciate the offer, but I'm actually enjoying what has to be the nicest bathtub in the history of mankind at the moment. Not even the hand of god could move me right now. -AH How about tomorrow? -AH

You: That would be nice. AB

Stranger: Great! -AH I'll bring some of the leftover cookies Mrs. Martha made today. If there are any leftovers, anyway. They're soooo good. -AH

You: Thank you, Alexander. That's really nice of you. AB Mrs. Washington bakes a lot. She's very good at it. AB

Stranger: No shit, yeah. I didn't know what a blondie was? And now I don't know how I've gone this long without them? -AH

You: Wait until she starts baking pies. AB

Stranger: Oh god, I'm gonna die. I'm gonna die of happiness. -AH I can't cook, like, at all, so just these past few days have been kind of a miracle for me. -AH

You: You can't die before you taste her pies. Those are definitely miracle-worthy. AB

Stranger: No, no, I'm pretty sure that the pie is gonna be what kills me. -AH It's okay. There are worse ways to go. -AH

You: She bakes bread, too. From scratch. AB

Stranger: Hooolyyyy shit. -AH Clearly, I've already died, because this must be heaven. -AH

You: She made this pumpkin bread last October for a bake sale at school... It was probably the best thing I've ever eaten. AB

Stranger: God... -AH I'm not even hungry but now I really want to eat. -AH

You: You don't have to be hungry to eat Mrs. Washington's food. You just... eat it. AB

Stranger: Not being hungry is still kind of a new feeling for me, honestly. -AH

You: What do you mean? AB

Stranger: Nothing. Just- it's nice. -AH

You: [...] Okay. That makes sense. AB Like I said, the Washingtons are really nice. They'll make sure you've always got plenty of food. AB

Stranger: Yeah. Their kitchen is huuuuuuge. -AH I kind of. Have a secret hoard of crackers under my bed. Mostly out of habit. -AH

You: Make sure you keep them closed up. Otherwise you'll get ants. AB

Stranger: Trust me, I know how to handle my food stashes. -AH

You: It's just a warning from experience. AB

Stranger: Fair enough. Thanks. -AH I just like knowing they're there. -AH

You: Just in case. I get it. AB

Stranger: Yeah. -AH This all still feels like a dream, you know? Like I'm gonna wake up any second. -AH

You: It's real. I mean, you're talking to me and I'm real. AB Those blondies were definitely real. AB

Stranger: I have an active imagination. -AH Oooooh, /true/. Yeah, I couldn't have imagined those. -AH

You: See? Even an active imagination couldn't have come up with that. AB

Stranger: You make an excellent point. -AH I kinda want to ask if she can make anything with coconut, but I also feel kind of bad asking for anything after how much they've already done for me. -AH

You: I'm sure she would be happy to do it. She likes baking, and she likes making people happy. AB I don't know if it's weird to say, but I'm really happy they adopted you? I've heard them talking to my grandparents before about how much they miss having kids around. AB

Stranger: I just really like coconut. One of the nice things from home. -AH I'm happy too, I'm pretty sure. It's kind of overwhelming how nice they are? I have no idea what to do with it, honestly. I've been on my own for- a while. -AH

You: On your own? AB

Stranger: Yeah. Pretty much. -AH

You: Wow. AB How old are you? AB

Stranger: Seventeen. -AH

You: That's a lot to deal with. AB

Stranger: It's been a lot, yeah. Yeah. -AH I've been going non-stop since I was thirteen, so now that I'm here and I don't have to, I'm just kinda- lost. -AH

You: You'll figure things out here. If you managed on your own for so long, you'll be able to adapt to this. AB [...] I'm not trying to pry, and you don't have to answer, but... I can't lie and say I'm not a little curious. What happened? AB

Stranger: It's fine, you can ask. -AH My dad walked out when I was a kid. I was- ten? My mom did her best for a while to provide for me and my brother, but then she and I got sick. I got better. She didn't. -AH We moved in with my cousin, cousin committed suicide. My brother left to go make it out on his own, and it's just been me since then. -AH

You: Jesus. That's... too much. AB You made it, though. AB

Stranger: I grew up quick. I've been working since then. A lot of writing, a lot of math. That's how the Washingtons found out about me. A hurricane hit my town last season, and it just- it destroyed everything. It was awful. So I wrote to every newspaper I could trying to get people to pay /attention/ and /help/ and people noticed. -AH

You: And they helped. AB That's amazing. AB

Stranger: Yeah. So. -AH That's my story. -AH

You: It's one hell of a story. AB

Stranger: Honestly, I was pretty sure I'd be dead by now, so I'm pleasantly surprised at this point. -AH

You: For what it's worth, I'm glad I got the chance to meet you and that you're not dead. AB

Stranger: Well, thanks. I appreciate it. -AH So, what about you? -AH

You: What about me? AB

Stranger: What's your story? -AH

You: Oh. AB I haven't done nearly as much as you have. AB My parents died in a car accident when I was just a kid. My sister and I lived with our grandparents until she moved out a few years ago. Now it's just me and them. I'll be seventeen in a few months. My grandfather is a preacher? That's... pretty much it. AB

Stranger: What do you like to do? -AH

You: I like to read? I was a in a play at school once, but I don't think I was very good. AB

Stranger: Ohhhh my god there are so many books here, I love it. Basically my whole little library I'd accumulated got destroyed in the floods. Broke my heart. But I'm allowed to read whatever I want off the shelves here. -AH You did a play at school? Huh. All kinds of stuff goes on there, then? -AH

You: I'm sorry about your library. I've got quite a few books, too, if you ever want to borrow any of them. AB Yes. There are all sorts of clubs and things. A friend of mine convinced me to act with her in a play because they were short on people. I like to sit in on the Speech and Debate meetings and listen to the debates. AB

Stranger: Ooooh, definitely! -AH THERE ARE DEBATES??? -AH I mean. Um. There are debates? Cool. Cool. -AH

You: There are definitely debates. AB Would you... like to come with me to the next meeting? AB

Stranger: /Y e s./ -AH

You: I don't usually join in, but they're always open for more people to debate if you're interested. AB Just... going out on a limb and guessing that you're interested? AB

Stranger: Yes absolutely please and thank you. -AH

You: They'll be happy about it. Maybe if I bring you, they'll stop bothering me about actually debating. AB

Stranger: Or I'll harass you into joining too. -AH :) -AH

You: I'll hide in the back of the room. You won't even know I'm there. AB

Stranger: I'm good at calling people out. It's what I /do/. -AH

You: The club's either going to love you or hate you. Either way, it'll be fun to watch. AB

Stranger: I have that effect. -AH I didn't know there was a debate club. I'm even /more/ excited about going to school now, shit. -AH

You: You'll have a good time. If either of us talks to any admin, they would probably be able to put us together in a few classes, too, if you wanted. They usually do, to try and make the transition for new students easier if they already know someone. That'd be up to you. AB

Stranger: That would be great! I'll ask. I had to go up there once already, but George made me wait in the hall because apparently I was "getting agitated" with the person. -AH It's not my fault he was stupid and bad at his job. -AH

You: I'm almost afraid to ask what happened. AB

Stranger: I want to do the accelerated courses, but they kept telling me no because they didn't have anything on my transcripts saying I could, because I don't /have/ transcripts because I've never actually /been/ to a formal school before and they couldn't seem to understand that so instead of just saying they'd give me a placement test, which is what they were supposed to do, he looked at me like I was stupid. -AH I'm not stupid. -AH

You: Of course you're not stupid. You wrote a letter to a newspaper and ended up here. Not many people could just... do that. AB Did you end up getting to take a placement test for it? AB

Stranger: Yeah. I did. And they're letting me do the classes. But it was just- frustrating. I was halfway out of my seat with my fist clenched before I knew I was moving. -AH

You: You have to be careful. Some of the admin is... slow, but they're even worse when they think they're not in control of the situation. AB That's good, that you're in the right classes, though. I'm also in some of the advanced courses. AB

Stranger: I get a little testy sometimes. So George made me wait outside. -AH Yeah? Great! -AH

You: Probably a good decision. AB Even if we don't end up in the same classes at the same times, I can help you with any catching up if you need it. AB

You: ((brb))

Stranger: ...maybe. Probably. Yeah. -AH That would be nice. I can get a lot from books, I just need to know where I should be focusing. I'll read anything I can get my hands on, honestly. -AH

You: I'll point you in the right direction once you get your first few assignments. AB A lot of it's just reading and retaining the information, so you shouldn't have much of a problem with it. AB

Stranger: I'm gonna like this, I can already tell. -AH God, I'm excited. -AH

You: You /will/ have to refrain from punching anyone while you're debating, though. AB

Stranger: ...damn. -AH

You: Not easy, but necessary. AB

Stranger: Is it, though? -AH

You: The admin won't look kindly on it if you deck someone at the stand. AB

Stranger: Ughhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh -AH

You: Look at it this way: if you debate well enough, you won't need to hit them. AB

Stranger: Touche. -AH But it's /so/ satisfying. -AH

You: So is staying out of the dean's office.

You: AB**

Stranger: What's the worst that could happen? -AH

You: Suspension, expulsion. AB

Stranger: Well that seems excessive. -AH

You: Welcome to the American school system. AB

Stranger: A little fighting is good for the soul. -AH

You: Most people don't exactly share that sentiment, here. AB

Stranger: Boring. -AH Hell, that's how I made rent sometimes. I'd cause a little trouble, get some folks to bet I couldn't win, and then I'd get paid when I just wouldn't quit. -AH

You: That sounds... dangerous, Alexander. AB

Stranger: So is going hungry. -AH

Stranger: I'm scrappy. I managed alright. -AH Besides, half of the time, it was a scam anyway. I'd pay someone else to be in on it, and we'd split it. -AH

You: Being scrappy doesn't mean you were safe. AB You did what you had to do. I'm not going to judge you for that. But you don't have to do it anymore. AB You've got Mrs. Washington's pies to look forward to. AB

Stranger: It's just- weird. Not having to work at all. -AH

You: If it really bothers you, you could get a job? It wouldn't be fighting, obviously, but once you get into the swing of things with school, there are plenty of minimum wage places around here that hire high schoolers. AB

Stranger: I did other stuff too, relax. Mostly stuff for a local shipping company. I handled a lot of their inventory and accounting business. And writing angry letters to people who sent us shitty product. That was my main gig, and then I'd pick up other stuff when I could at some of the hotels or things like that. Anything I could manage, y'know? -AH Maybe I'll look into it. It's mostly just being idle that's getting to me right now. -AH

You: You've got enough experience that you could probably get hired anywhere. I'd focus on one thing at a time for now if I were you, but once you figure out school a job might be a good distraction from being idle. AB

Stranger: For now, I mostly just have to keep myself busy getting familiar with things around the house. And writing. I never stop writing. -AH

You: I can see why you got excited about having nice pens. AB

Stranger: They're soooo good. A little smeary until they dry, but they don't bleed onto the next page at all, and the lines are really crisp and it's just- yeah. -AH Good pens and a stack of empty journals. It's a dream come true. -AH

You: Get too many empty journals and you'll end up never leaving your house. AB

Stranger: Come winter time, I'll probably be okay with that. -AH

You: What do you write about? I mean, I know you wrote letters before, but what do you write in the journals? AB

Stranger: Anything. Everything. -AH A lot of political and economic stuff. Some of it's more like personal philosophical treatises. Really detailed pro-and-con charts. Books I want to pick apart. -AH

You: Wow. You really meant it when you said everything, huh. AB

Stranger: Yeah. -AH Some of it's just dumb stuff, though. Like, rolling over in the middle of the night and scribbling out "if I was an animal what would i be" barely legibly and then falling back asleep. -AH I have no memory of doing that, but it's in my journal. Which means I spent three days really intensely trying to work it out. -AH

You: Did you ever figure it out? AB

Stranger: Not to the point of being satisfied with it. -AH

Stranger: But then, I've never been satisfied. -AH

You: Maybe the debate club can figure it out. From what you've told me about yourself so far, you sound like you'd be some sort of cat. AB

Stranger: That's where I landed too, yeah. But see, with cats, the solitary/social split is an important one, and I was never able to settle that because I've never really... had a group of friends before. -AH

You: Maybe that will change. AB

Stranger: Maybe so. I kinda hope so. I've never had a chance before. -AH

You: You will now. AB There are lots of people to meet at school. Groups of every sort of people. You'll find somewhere to fit in. AB

Stranger: Yeah. One more thing to add to the list of reasons I'm excited. -AH

You: People will see that you're excited, too. They'll be drawn to it. That's how these things go. AB

Stranger: Woo! -AH That woo was vaguely sarcastic because I do not have exclamation points in me right now. I am flopped out face-first on this bed right now because /wow/ moving to a new country is exhausting. -AH

You: I can't even imagine. Moving from one house to another was bad enough as a little kid. AB You should get some sleep. You'll need as much rest as you can get before school starts. AB Is there a time difference from Nevis? Probably, right? AB

Stranger: No, actually. No time difference. Just- mental and physical exhaustion. Which I can usually power through. -AH

You: Even without a time difference, it makes sense you'd be tired. You've done a lot already and you've been here less than a week. AB You don't have to power through it. Go to bed, Alexander. AB

Stranger: Mm. Nah. I'm good. -AH Technically in bed. -AH

You: I meant sleep, and you know it. AB Besides, I'll see you tomorrow. We can actually talk in person, and you can be well-rested for it. AB

Stranger: [Slightly delayed] I don't wanna sleep, okay? -AH

You: Why not? You said you were tired. AB

Stranger: I'm always tired. That doesn't mean sleep feels better. -AH

You: [...] Oh. AB

Stranger: I'll pass out eventually. If I suddenly stop responding, that's probably why. -AH

You: That makes sense. AB You know, if you have trouble sleeping, there are things you can do to try and counteract it. AB

Stranger: Swipe some rum from the store before leaving work, usually. But /that's/ not an option now. -AH

You: Well, no. But there are medications for sleeping, and things that aren't medications but that do the same things. AB I usually try to meditate before I sleep. It sounds crazy, but it actually helps. AB

Stranger: Yeah, I can't slow my thoughts down for that sort of thing. I only have the one gear, and it's always running. And if I'm alone with my thoughts, it's either soooo much worse, or something I need to stop and write down anyway. -AH

You: It takes some practice, I'll give you that. AB Still. There has to be something. I would mention it to Mr. or Mrs. Washington. I'm sure they would help find something. AB

Stranger: Yeah. I guess I could do that. -AH It's just- not a great time. -AH

You: What do you mean? AB

Stranger: Sleeping. Sorry, shoulda been more clear. -AH

You: Ah. That makes sense, right. AB There's a lot to get used to, too. It might get easier as time goes on. There's probably a lot more noise here than you're used to, for one thing. AB

Stranger: Ohhhh, yeah. Different noise, too. I lived on a hill just over a beach on the far end of town. -AH

You: More cars, less waves? AB

Stranger: Less screeching monkeys, too. Which isn't a bad thing. -AH

You: Sounds... loud. AB Monkeys don't strike me as quiet animals. AB Maybe you'd be a monkey, if you were an animal. AB

Stranger: Please no. Maurice was Satan in the flesh. -AH

You: Maurice?? AB Did you name a monkey Maurice? AB

Stranger: I did not name him. I hated him with every fiber of my being. -AH My boss named him after we couldn't get him to stop coming in the store. -AH

You: What did he do in your store? AB Besides screech? AB

Stranger: One time he ripped all of the plastic bags out of their box, chewed a hole in the corner of every single one, and then stuffed them back in. -AH

You: That sounds like a monkey with a vendetta against plastic bags. AB Or people. Or both. AB

Stranger: They're fast babies with sharp teeth and they're /evil/. -AH He would run up on my shoulders while I was working, yank the tie out of my hair- usually with several strands in the process- and then either break it or fling it at me. -AH

You: Scrappy little troublemaker. AB Sounds like someone else I know. AB

Stranger: No. /Evil/. -AH Also, look up green vervet monkeys and tell me if there isn't something /strikingly/ uncomfortable about them. -AH

You: [...] They're actually rather cute. AB

Stranger: Blue. Balls. -AH They have /vibrantly/ blue balls, and they like to make them as impossible to ignore as they can. -AH It's not fun. -AH

You: /Oh./ AB I didn't see that at first, but that's... pretty unsettling, you're right. AB

Stranger: Yupp. -AH Now imagine dealing with that. All day. Every day. Screeching at you and scratching itself. -AH

You: No wonder you don't sleep at night. AB

Stranger: That's for sure the cause. Definitely. -AH

You: Close your eyes and all you can see is blue monkey balls. AB I... can't believe that I just typed that phrase out of my own free will. AB

Stranger: I'm making the /worst/ sound right now. Muffled wheeze-laughing. It's terrible. -AH

You: I'm glad that I can amuse. AB

Stranger: :) -AH I just realized you have no idea what I look like. Huh. -AH

You: My current mental image of you is a faceless person with long hair and a monkey on your shoulder. AB So, no. I don't really have any idea. AB

Stranger: ((brb))

Stranger: [Image attached: Alexander laying in bed, smiling tiredly and a too-big shirt drooping off to the side, hair falling around his face] -AH

You: [...] [image attached: Aaron sitting at his desk, smiling --albeit awkwardly-- with his face illuminated by a desk lamp] AB Figured I would return the favour? AB

Stranger: Mmmm. Much appreciated. -AH

You: You hair really is long. It looks nice. AB

Stranger: Yeah. I like it this way. More to grab. -AH Thanks. -AH

You: More for the monkeys to grab, you mean. AB

Stranger: I meant for me to grab in frustration. Or for someone else to grab in not-frustration. -AH

You: Oh. AB That makes... sense. AB

Stranger: Problem? -AH

You: Not at all. Just... got your drift, that's all. AB

Stranger: Another thing to add to the moving-frustrations, ugh. -AH

You: At least you'll be able to meet people soon, through school and everything. AB

Stranger: Yeah. Pretty different from what I'm used to. -AH

You: You're not used to meeting people? AB

Stranger: I'm not used to them being... permanent. -AH

You: Ah. AB It's not a bad thing. At least, not usually. AB

Stranger: No one sticks around on Nevis. They come for a week, maybe two. Maybe even a month or so. But everyone leaves. -AH

You: That's what you meant before, when you said you'd never had a group of friends? AB

Stranger: Yeah. -AH There aren't a lot of people on the island, and even fewer who actually like me. To the rest of the world, it doesn't even exist. Or if it does, it's just a pretty little place for them to ride ponies and go snorkeling for a week, and then it just vanishes. -AH

You: That's... awful. AB Your letters, though? People at least know it exists, now? Maybe someone will do something to help. AB

Stranger: That's life on the smaller part of the tenth smallest country in the world. -AH A little. People noticed for a while, donated some money to help with the cleanup. It burned out, though. -AH

You: Stuff like that goes in waves. Maybe it will pick up again. AB

Stranger: Maybe. -AH My point is, I'm not really used to people sticking around. -AH

You: Well, you're here now. People... tend to stick around. I've gone to school with some of the same people since I was five. AB

Stranger: That's- bizarre. -AH

You: I guess. AB That isn't to say we all like each other, but we've all had ten years to formulate hatred for one another if we feel so inclined. AB

Stranger: I'm not sure I've known anyone since I was five. -AH

You: It makes sense, but that's crazy to me. AB

Stranger: I guess my boss is the person I've known longest at this point? He was my mom's landlord, so I sort of vaguely knew him growing up. -AH

You: At least that's someone? AB

Stranger: Yeah, it kind of is. -AH He mostly just told me to stop sassing him all the time. -AH

You: Delightful. AB Although... it might've been warranted. You seem like the kind of person who would sass their boss. AB

Stranger: ...yeaaaaaaaaah. -AH We got some horses in one time that were just the scrawniest things when they got there, the poor things. I got them settled out to pasture to take care of them and all, but bossman didn't exactly like me saying that we'd gotten a shipment full of skeletons. I called them my skeletons all the time. -AH

You: I'm not sure the horses appreciated being called skeletons, either. Ab

You: AB**

Stranger: I named them all after bones. -AH

You: Charming. AB

Stranger: I mean, this is what happens when you let a fifteen year old asshole all but run your business for you. -AH

You: Yeah, that'll do it. AB You really ran the business? AB

Stranger: In everything but name, pretty much. -AH

You: That's incredible. AB I can't believe you're barely a year older than I am. AB

Stranger: It's not really that hard. You balance a few books, you don't communicate over the phone so no one knows you're a kid, you're golden. -AH

You: I've never run a business before. I've never even thought about it.

You: AB**

Stranger: I hadn't thought about it, but then an opportunity presented itself and I wasn't gonna throw it away. -AH Turns out spreadsheets are my soulmates. -AH

You: I've never even made a spreadsheet in my life. AB

Stranger: Oh, Burr, buddy. You don't know what you're missing out on. -AH

You: You'll have to show me how they work, I guess. AB

Stranger: :D -AH

You: You any closer to sleep, yet? AB

Stranger: Yeah. I think so. Thanks. -AH

You: No problem. I've been there. AB

Stranger: I'll see you tomorrow? -AH

You: I'll see you tomorrow. I'll be home all day; whenever you're ready, feel free to come over. AB

Stranger: Super. -AH

You: Sleep well, Alexander. AB

Stranger: You too, eventually. -AH

You: I'll do my best. AB

Stranger: And- thanks. Just thanks. -AH

#hamburr rp #hamburr #hamburr roleplay #THIS HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH JOHN MULANEY I PROMISE #new in town #hamilton rp #hamilton roleplay #fandom rp #fandom roleplay #omegling #omegle rp #kris roleplays #my rp

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cloudaintfair-archive · 6 years

Text

Lost Shinobi - C2

Shisui Uchiha didn’t expect to wake up once more. He certainly didn’t expect to have both of his eyes. Here he is, living among Auradon’s evillest and cruelest of villains in the isle of the lost.

[C1]

[FFN] [AO3]

"What's going on?" I muttered to myself as I looked around my surroundings. "What is this place?"

I was so disoriented when I first woke up in the prison island. I thought I was hallucinating when I saw a horned female shouting at things and another was flailing her mirror around. There was also a man flaunting his muscles around like he was the most interesting specimen in the island.

That's when I remembered: I was supposed to be dead.

I remembered the sensation of drowning at the Naka River after plucking my remaining eye and gave it to my best friend, Itachi.

"I-I can see?" I muttered to myself as I gently caressed my eyelids. "What is going on?" I questioned everything as the realization of being alive was finally processed in my brain.

I noticed that everything I wore when I died was what I was wearing. The signature turtle-neck Uchiha shirt, my brown tanto harness on my right shoulder, my black shin-length pants, the bandages around my shins and the standard shinobi sandals.

As my hands travelled along my waist and shoulder, I realized that I still have my tanto and the limited supply of kunai knives and shurikens inside my holster, along with some blank sealing paper and scrolls.

Suddenly, the surrounding became chaotic than it was, people shouting and flailing around.

"This is going to get real ugly fast." I said to myself as I fled the scene.

In an act of self-preservation, I immediately took off towards a lush forest nearby and hid myself there.

In there, I made a wooden house to myself and I improvised so much that even the nails were made of wood.

As a member of the Hidden Leaves' ANBU, I am quite adept at making simple houses, tables and chairs as we were often dispatched on long-term missions. If there was a time I appreciated those mundane ANBU tasks and those D-ranked missions during my time as a genin, this was the time.

The chores I did, the building of houses and the repair of fences, chairs and tables sure came in handy.

I just finished my simple house in the middle of the woods after a few days of building it. A thought suddenly came to me.

"Can I still use them?" I questioned out loud as I removed my shirt as they were drenched in my sweat.

By them, I meant my jutsus.

"Sharingan!" I whispered forcefully as I tried to redirect my chakra to my eyes and formed the tiger seal.

The sensation I haven't felt in a while filled my eyes as my vision improved. It improved to a point that the swaying of the trees looked like they were moving in slow-motion from my perspective.

"Fire Style: Fire Ball Jutsu." I shouted as I had gone through the necessary hand seals and released a breath of fire.

Suffice to say, my Ninjutsu and Ocular jutsus still worked and things just got a whole lot easier.

Years passed, and the people here in this island came up of the same idea I had, settling in. Not before long, the forest that I claimed for myself was completely bald and barren as every single tree was cut down to be a house or castle.

Trees can no longer grow because of the clouds that were stationary above the island. Plant life certainly can't thrive without sunlight, let alone trees.

Luckily since I had discovered that my ninjutsus were usable, I dabbled in the art of sealing. With my meager knowledge of the sealing arts, I was able to make a seal that made my house hidden from view and make it so that only I can locate it.

In the years that I've been in this island, I learned that this was an island prison filled to the brim of criminals, as they call themselves villains, from the different kingdoms of this world. The island had a transparent dome around it making what they call 'magic', impossible.

What is magic?

I haven't got a clue.

I also learned of the de-facto leader of this chaotic and anarchic island. The horned witch I saw shouting at things back when I first woke up, she was named Maleficent, the evilest of them all.

Somehow I doubt that. If she can manage to gouge my eyes to become a village ruler then maybe I can believe that, but as far as I'm concerned, Danzo is still the evilest Son of a Bitch I've ever had the displeasure of meeting.

Hopefully Itachi was able to save both the clan and the village.

"So that's how you use those?" Shisui muttered to himself as he listened to the old man blab about the things unfamiliar to him. "Microwave was it?" He muttered to himself.

Everyone in the room was under the illusion that I'm not there with them as I listened to the old man, named Yen Sid, blab about things.

I had recently got myself a working microwave set, a refrigerator set and a working TV set from the barge of junk goods that has been coming to the isle.

Apparently the people of Auradon saw to it to be charitable and donated us their used appliances and foods, some were blatant leftovers and half-eaten goods. This should've bothered me but it didn't. I can survive by catching fish in the nearby pond and at the shores and cook it with my fire style jutsus.

But I'm not above stealing a few stale fruits and loaves of bread from the barge and eat them for myself.

As to how I got my supply of electricity when I was completely off the grid and totally hidden from everyone. I used the sealing arts. I stored lightning release chakra to a piece of metal and adjust it to produce the right amount of output.

Let's just say the amount of tries I did to perfect this method was staggering. The amount of busted appliances in my backyard was evidence enough.

"I really need to dispose them." I chuckled to myself as I remembered the pile of busted appliances in my backyard.

A few more years passed and the island was now filled with children. Schools were even established to teach these children in the art of villainy and schemes and how to be evil.

"Selfishness 101? Advanced Vanities? Evil Schemes?" I chuckled good heartedly to myself as I toured the newly built school. "What's this? How to be Danzo 101?" I got a good laugh at the name of the classes in the school.

Frankly every villain here were so full of themselves. They were even forcing their plans for revenge and even their insecurities upon their offsprings.

Even with all this and after all these years, I kept myself hidden from everyone. I was pretty contented on how I lived my life. Spying on everyone in the mornings, stealing some fruits during barge days and even steal some clothes from any unsuspecting fellow.

My means of spying to everyone here was by either transforming myself into someone forgettable or by casting a widespread illusion on everyone on the isle and make me invisible to them.

While I was at school, trying to learn everything in this strange world, I was wearing a sleeveless shirt, some short pants and my standard shinobi sandals.

"You know you can just ask me." I was startled and immediately punched the person behind me who spoke but only met with air. "There are ways to learn of your predicament without resorting to spying other people." An old man chided at me as he made himself visible in my line of sight.

What startled me was not the fact that the old man was behind me, but rather the fact that I was seen. I thought I had already cast an illusion on everyone and made it certain that I was invisible to the people here on the island.

"Can you really blame me?" I questioned the old man before me as I calmed down and stood up straight. "The last time I remember before waking up here was drowning in a river." I admitted. "Suddenly I found myself in another world, resurrected." I finished.

"No." The old wizard replied to me." I suppose I cannot." He nodded.

The man before me was Yen Sid, or so he called himself. I inquired the old wizard of everything he knew of this world, of this place and of this island prison. I soon found out that a magical event merged different timelines and worlds together and formed the world and the Kingdom of Auradon it was today.

Yen Sid also explained how the barrier worked. In his words, a huge invisible dome was erected in the island to prevent escape and prevent the use of magic.

"Basically, the same magical event, only a smaller scale than what happened before, was what caused my resurrection?" I proposed to the old wizard.

"Could be." The Wizard nodded. "But if you weren't a villain in your world, why were you sent to the isle?" He questioned.

So I spilled everything about my profession to the Wizard. I basically told him that almost everyone in my world would be sent to the isle as we have killed, tortured and made people suffer as a profession. Especially after the three world wars our world has gone through.

"Hmmm." Yen Sid hummed. "I can see why those circumstances can be the reason for your incarceration." The Wizard nodded.

For a few days, I had witnessed something out of the ordinary. I saw two girls hanging out as if they were friends, which was odd considering how the populace viewed friendship, or any sort of affection.

Unless it was some ploy to manipulate the other party.

The way I saw it, both girls were really enjoying each other's company, like the way most friendships start. The purple haired girl was enjoying her time with the braided girl. It'd almost seem that the both of them relish each other's company

One time, I decided to follow the girls once they separated during that day. I conjured up a shadow clone and let the clone follow the girl with braids and I followed the purple haired girl. My reason for doing so would be to see if the girl was really genuine for her feelings.

It was disheartening to witness and hear that the girl, Mal, the horned witch's daughter, was ordered to stop from hanging out with the girl with braids, Uma. They really enjoyed each other's company.

The next thing I knew was witnessing a shrimp-covered Uma being laughed at by Mal and by everyone else who witnessed the event, it looked like a prank from where I stood.

It was a mean prank, sure, but it was just a harmless prank so went on my way and thought nothing of it.

For many years, I always went to the Wizard Yen Sid and ask how things work, so far he has taught me about washing machines, bread toasters, coffee makers, hair dryers, blenders and whatnot. I learned so much about these so called Techs courtesy of the Wizard Yen Sid that, I feel a little bit guilty that I haven't given Yen Sid something in return for the information, his hospitality and his understanding of my situation.

Apart from that, I've always been hidden from the population of incarcerated individuals.

When I saw a certain white haired mother yell at her white haired son and watched in horror as she beat him up.

I secretly dressed the boy's wounds, else they would get infected in this polluted isle. Ever since Itachi had the displeasure of seeing a teammate die, I took Itachi to the hospital make him learn a few more things about first aid and wound dressing apart from the things we learned from the academy. Not to mention learn a few medical ninjutsus.

For a few months, that has been my life, secretly dressing the wounds of children who had the unfortunate circumstance to be born from their parents, who were abusive and being born in this unfair place, filled with bullies and whatnot.

"I don't know if Danzo was better or worse." I muttered to myself as I found myself dressing the first boy's wounds again for the umpteenth time. "On one hand he'd properly give physical care to these children." I continued to talk to myself. "But on the other, he'd train these children to be void of emotion and use them for his ends." I sighed. "He certainly used me and I'm not even part of his organization."

Another great thing about the Sharingan is that I can copy ninjutsu from other people. It may sound cheating but no one can deny the practicality of it. I certainly found use for it when I copied medical ninjutsus from other villages, including my own village, and used them for Hidden Leaves' benefit. And I certainly found use for it here as I became the invisible nurse of the children here on the isle.

As soon as treatment was done, I carefully brought the boy to his treehouse and let him sleep there. I was just not comfortable brining the boy back to his house where his mother would just beat him senseless, but I still can't risk revealing myself to the population.

"Yen Sid." I started as I approached the Wizard in his quarters. "Can't you do something for these children?" I asked the Wizard as sat on the chair that's near to the old man. "Sooner or later, they will die from the abuse of their parents and peers."

"I've already sent the King of Auradon a few letters about the children of villains." Yen Sid reassured me. "I have yet to receive a single reply from the esteemed King."

"Is it possible that the King, no matter how benevolent he is, is ignoring your letters?" I proposed the hypothesis to the Wizard before me. "As you said, everyone here, apart from me, was an enemy to someone in the mainland." I explained my line of thinking. "The only reason that these people were resurrected was because even after death some these people," I stated as I gestured towards the door. "Wouldn't stop terrorizing their enemies." I finished.

"That certainly is a possibility." I heard the old man agree with me. "Let me see what I can do."

As soon as I showed my way out, I found a mirror my reflection caught my attention. I admit that being invisible to the populace has made me neglectful of my appearance. I was definitely more untidy than I was before, my hair was certainly longer than I remembered it.

"You haven't aged one bit." I heard Yen Sid comment. "Ever since I saw you attending some seminars about technology, you haven't displayed physical signs of aging." The Wizard stated as he ran his finger through his beard.

Apart from the longer hair and untidy appearance, I definitely noticed that I still looked the same as I did on the day I died.

"Probably one of the many side effects of me being from another world." I shrugged as I retrieved a kunai from my holster.

With the kunai knife in my hands, I unceremoniously shortened the length of my hair to the same way I remembered them.

"Let me even that out for you." The Wizard offered.

I was hesitant to accept Yen Sid's offer. I mean, you'd think that someone who hasn't shortened his beard didn't do so because he doesn't know how.

In the end, I accepted his offer and got a proper haircut.

#shisui uchiha #yen sid #descendants #naruto #mal #descendants 2 #uma #story

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dear-oliver · 6 years

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Chapter 2

Adam

I’m standing alone in the diner’s bathroom, my insides completely blown asunder by the hurricane of a boy that is Oliver Beck. Fuck. I’m a mess. This isn’t news, but I’ve probably just made a fool of myself. I don’t know why I did what I just did. That’s a lie, of course I know, I just can’t believe I actually did it.

He’s been getting under my skin for years, what with his messy hair and outrageous laugh, his…interesting and colorful wardrobe choices. Oliver is full of sunlight that radiates from every pore.

The bathroom, dear god, he probably thinks I’m a creep. I couldn’t leave him alone.

I hope he’s okay. Of course, he’s not okay; I heard him in there. I’m not a creep, he needed someone.

I’m a mess.

My thoughts are racing and my heart is pounding and I have to get out. I pull the door open and hurry back to my table, oblivious to anything going on around me. Grabbing my jacket and backpack, I rush out of the diner and am greeted by a bite of cold November wind.

When I get home the lights are still on downstairs, mom waiting up for me. I open the door as quietly as possible, in the off-chance she’s drifted off watching House Hunters or some other HGTV show.

“Adam, is that you?”

“Hey, Mom,” I say, dropping my things in a heap by the door and stepping into the light of the living room.

She looks up from the television, giving me a once-over. “Everything all right, love?”

I look down to the spot on my wrist that I’ve now scratched raw. Wonderful. I must’ve been at it the whole walk home. I slide my hands into my pockets.

“I’m good, mom.” My smile is probably unconvincing, but it’s okay, I’m not here to perform.

“There’s some leftover spaghetti in the fridge, if you haven’t eaten.”

I nod and collapse onto the couch beside her, her hand moving up and smoothing my hair. We sit in silence for a while before sleep begins creeping up on me. I rest my head on my mother’s shoulder and close my eyes, drifting off to the sweet sound of home renovations.

I’m awakened by a crashing sound. The lights are off, as well as the TV. My brother is on the floor, he probably fell, and he’s now laughing at…himself, I’m assuming. Someone’s a little drunk.

Theo is one year older than me and a lot more fun, if fun means having plans with someone other than yourself on a Friday night. People love Theo. He’s the guy who knows everyone’s secrets, but never tells them. The guy you go to when no one else will listen, you need a shoulder to cry on, you need help burning down a building or robbing a bank. Theo is simultaneously a bright laugh on a breezy day and a tired whisper in the dead of night.

Right now, though, he is a boy who has just returned from a party at who-knows-whose house and can’t even stand up straight.

Mom covered me in a blanket before turning in, and I speak to Theo from my nest on the couch. “Do you think you can make it to your bedroom on your own?”

“All good, Brother, we’re all good indeed,” Theo laughs again at his own hilarity as he clambers up the stairs.

A few minutes later I gather the blanket around me and head up to my room.

I crawl into bed with my slightly battered copy of Frankenstein, which I’m about to read for the third time. Opening the book, I lose myself in the story.

I relate, however odd that may seem, to Frankenstein’s Monster. Honestly, I’ve never believed he was the monster that so many make him out to be. He only wanted what we all want, which is love. He gave his heart to someone else and had it thrown back at him, was called ‘ugly’ and ‘monster’ over and over again. Anyone who hears those words enough times is going to darken, turn cold. You can’t hurl cruelty at someone and expect them to just stand there and take it. Now, it certainly doesn’t justify hurting or killing, but is it really that hard to relate? Can anyone truly say they’ve never wanted to inflict injury on someone else? How different he might have been, had someone only given him the love he so desperately needed. Seriously, have a little empathy.

People exhaust me. I’m tired of being tired. I feel like an old man trapped in the body of a sixteen-year-old boy. I am lonely. When did people move so far out of reach? When did happiness and freedom become so hard to obtain? My world is bleak these days.

More than anything, I miss being carefree. I miss not worrying about how many friends I had or if anyone would ever love me for me.

When I was little I was probably closest to my cousin, Joanna. We spent the majority of our summers together right up until I was around eight and she was nine. I was a relatively mild kid, quiet, played by myself. I didn’t have any close friends through my elementary school years, didn’t have other kids over or go to birthday parties, normal kid things. But that was always okay, because I knew that come summer I would have Jo.

We had brilliant adventures together, Joanna and me. Our imaginations were overflowing with endless possibilities; the world was ours for the taking. Thinking back, I don’t see how anything could compare to the utter happiness of those invincible summers.

My aunt and uncle had a cottage on Long Lake. It was this retro-looking little place: wood paneling, wicker lampshades, a set of table and chairs rimmed with chrome and plastered in vinyl. It felt like home. One year, I was staying with them at the cottage for the week. At the time, Jo and I were obsessed with that movie Monster House. The one where the house is alive and evil, and with Halloween fast-approaching these three kids have to figure out a way to destroy it before it demolishes the hordes trick-or-treaters. With this extraordinary piece of cinema at the forefront of our minds, we decided that the old abandoned cottage down the lake was alive. Now, unfortunately, this is not a tale of a murderous cottage. Disappointing, I know. It’s not a tale at all; just a memory. A clear, pure memory.

I see Little Jo and Little Adam running along the beach (if you could even call it a beach, more like a rocky landscape that sliced up my feet, but Joanna seemed hardened to). I see us jumping and whooping, climbing from rock to rock on our way to investigate the Monster Cottage. I don’t actually remember the cottage itself, just that moment on the way, moving as fast as we could but also in no hurry at all.

We were crime fighters, detectives, partners, friends. Joanna was the hero, I was the sidekick, and I liked it that way. I had always looked up to her. An energy emanated from her and it demanded attention, it was beautiful. I’m sure it still is, but people grow up and grow apart. We build lives or walls, separate from the people who shared our innocence. I haven’t talked to her in years, and I don’t think of her often, but I am thinking of her now. Joanna was wild. She made me wild too.

My eyelids are heavy. I close the book and set it on my nightstand, turn out the light.

That night I dream of golden-haired boys and grimy bathrooms.

#adam and oliver

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flirting-with-psychology · 7 years

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Three boring questions for statistical purposes: What is your name? Star How old are you? 22 And lastly, where are you located? Colorado That’s enough of that. How do you feel about tomato sauce with chunks of tomato? I don’t like tomato sauce in any form Do people think you look like either of your parents? Both

Does that offend you? Sometimes a teeny bit

What is your nationality/heritage? Nationality: American, heritage: Russian Jewish Does it fit you? I’m not religious but other than that sure Do you prefer regular bacon or turkey bacon? I don’t like bacon Are you more of a talker or a listener? Neither lol. This is why I can’t have nice things Do you interrupt when people talk? Sometimes Do you think its weird when people talk to their pets like people? No Where do most of your relatives live? Some in California and the east coast Is your weight proportionate to your height? I’m a little overweight What is the last place, other than home, that you stayed overnight? A campsite Do you prefer leather or lace? Leather What was the manufacturer of the last vehicle you were in? ??? I don’t pay attention to that Would you ever buy a motorcycle? Probably not. Might be cool to ride one one day though What is the most unusual thing in your reach right now? A stuffed buffalo Are you sitting by a window right now? Yes Does your door have to be closed in order for you to sleep? Yes Do you have anything other than posters or pictures on your walls? All sorts of things. I actually just put up my wall stuff. I have some posters, a couple calendars, my diplomas, some hanging decorations, a magnet board, a couple of swords, and a crossbow What is the furthest you have traveled alone? Italy Have you ever ridden a train? Yes How about a subway? Yes What is the last thing you measured? Oil and milk for mac and cheese Have you ever done something you told yourself you’d never do? Told myself I wouldn’t be a hookup kind of girl but here I am What did you do on the busiest day of your life? Probably film something or homework Have you ever traveled to another country? Yeah Have you traveled to another continent? Yes What is something someone can say that always cheers you up? Something contrary to whatever I’m insecure about Do you think everyone is born innocent? Yeah Or do you think “evil” is predetermined? Probably not. But up for debate with the whole nature vs nurture thing Are you tattooed? No Or does it freak you out? It doesn’t freak me out except for maybe the needle pain Are you pierced? If so, where? Just my ears Are attracted to or put off by people who are heavily pierced or tattooed? Put off Do you have any predjudices? I’m ashamed to say I do, but I try my best not to act on them Have you ever been called a derogatory name? Maybe? In like elementary school I’m sure I got made fun of for something. And I think I got called a stalker in middle school a few times What was the meanest thing you’ve been called? Stalker Have you done anything productive today, anyway? I bought pants Eaten anything delicious today? Leftover cupcake pancakes from IHOP Do you have any pets? If so, what species/breed? Two cats How did you acquire said pets? Adopted them, one from a foster home and one from a shelter Have you ever gotten a pet at a shelter? Yes Have you ever taken in a stray animal? No Do you have or want children? I don’t have any. I think I want them one day but that really depends on if I ever feel like I’ve matured enough to be a good parent How do you feel about marriage? I really hope it happens one day Ever been close? No Are you confident in your appearance? On some days Do you enjoy looking at yourself? Yes ….Do people think you are conceited or vain? A little Are you optimistic, pessimistic or “realistic” ? I’d say maybe idealistic? I feel like that’s slightly between realistic and optimistic Do you enjoying taking pictures? When I see cool things. But doing it all the time professionally would get annoying I think Do you take pictures of THINGS, or are you just a camera whore? Of things Do you have a significant other? No If so, what’s your favorite thing about this person?

My favorite thing about my crush is when he smiles his big smile at me How long have you been involved with them?

I’ve liked him for a little over a year and a half Do you think they are “the one”?

Probably not but the thought has crossed my mind …Do you believe in “the one” or “soulmates”? I’m not sure. When I think about it hard it doesn’t make sense but it would be nice to think that there is someone out there for me Have you ever dated someone simply for their looks? No, but I’ve had crushes on people for their looks What about dating someone simply because you felt too bad to say no? I’ve gone on individual dates, but never had a relationship with someone I didn’t like How do you feel about casual sex? I do it but I’d prefer it to mean more ..Are you eating anything right now? No Does it drive you INSANE when people chew with their mouth open? Yes, if they make mouth noises What about when they talk with their mouth full?? Not as much unless it’s particularly gross Does any food always make you sick but you love it too much to not eat it? No How do you feel about alcohol? I like it, but I like sweet drinks Have you ever been drunk? Yes Do you like orange juice with pulp? Yes Or… do you prefer not chewing your juice? I don’t have to chew the pulp Do you scream for ice cream? I used to when I saw the ice cream truck probably Which orange came first; the color or the fruit? The fruit? Chicken or the egg, really? The egg, because prior to that I guess was just barely not a chicken based on genetic mutation Are you addicted to anything? Crushes, internet, carbs Do you tell white lies? Sometimes What is your favorite pair of shoes? My black pumps Are you more creative or logical? Creative Do you know what people mean when they say “type A personality”? Yes Are you in school? If so, for what? No, I graduated What is your dream job? Something in film Have you ever experienced a natural disaster? No Do you feel bad when bad things happen to other people? Sometimes, if it’s someone I know and care about, or occasionally if it’s something that strikes a nerve for whatever reason Or, do you not care? I don’t care nearly as much as I should If you don’t, do you feel guilty about that? Yes Do you laugh at things that aren’t supposed to be funny? Sometimes Is it only funny til someone gets hurt? Sometimes even then, if they’re not seriously hurt Then is it hilarous? Sometimes Does your favorite shirt have words on it? No If so, what does it say? N/A Aren’t you a little nervous about posting photos online? Not really Have you ever been diagnosed with a mental illness? Mild OCD Have you ever stolen something? Don’t think so What was the reason you washed your hands last? Went to the bathroom How do you feel about getting blood drawn? I don’t like it. I have to look away and distract myself What are you afraid of? Spiders Is there something you should be doing? Going to bed

#survey

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irltrexxx · 6 years

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wwoof day 1

oof what a day! it is officially my first day as a wwoofer.

i am currently laying in the bed of a bedroom that looks like it hasn’t changed since 2002. there are stacks of burned metallica and slipknot cds next to me and behind me is a shelf full of scifi and adventure novels in italian. there are posters for independence day, lost world (forgot about that movie), scream 2, and armageddon. i’m in the middle of the woods an hour outside of siena. i tried to find myself on google maps but i just got an error saying “can not determine your location.”

i arrived at podere campliano at about 6 pm today. my hosts are maddalena e claudio, husband and wife who run a small cheese farm. here they make 8 kinds of cheeses, including a few different types of pecorino, tomino, ricotta, and stracchino. maddalena told me on the drive here that they have about 60-70 sardinian sheep, and claudio told me at dinner that they sell at local markets, in local stores, and even supply one local restaurant.

to flash back to the beginning of my journey today:

i did not sleep well at all last night! it was a combination of nerves (livin with strangers in such close quarters is definitely going to be the hardest part of the trip for me) and loud noises that were all over my florence apartment (loud clock ticks, heater clicks, everything). so i woke up pretty sleepy and cleaned and packed. i had leftover salami for breakfast and a cup of coffee from the moka pot. i left the apartment at 10, check out time, and walked to santa maria novella. i figured i would go ahead and get to siena even if mattias (maddalena e claudio’s oldest son) wasn’t set to pick me up until 5:30. my backpacks aren’t very fun to carry around, and there wasn’t anything i felt like i still needed to see in florence. so i took a 11:10 train to siena and arrived there at 12:30.

i spent from 12:30-5:15 in the mall. it was good people watching, plus free wifi and charging stations! the mall is directly across from the main entrance of the train station, and next to a university for foreigners in siena (literal translation of name). on the first floor there were some shitty women’s clothing stores and cellphone kiosks, as well as a pam local supermarket. second floor was a sporting goods store, men’s clothing store, jewelry store, and prefumeria. third floor was food court: sushi, old west steakhouse (second i have seen), and piadineria. four floor was a set of crazy escalators and walkways that led to the outskirts of siena. i wandered up there to take a peek—probably the oddest escalator experience i have ever had!

so after exploring the mall i decided my best option for passing time was to grab some snacks at the grocery store and camp out. i bought a bresola, mozzarella, valerian green sandwich. i’ve never seen valerian greens eaten until this trip. tastes like baby spinach to me! the sandwich was what you would expect from a refrigerator section grocery store sandwich. i also splurged on a coke (i’ll be sippin this baby all week at the rate i’m drinking) and a bar of dark chocolate. i ate my sandwich in the sun outside and then joined in on the group competition to find a comfortable chair somewhere warm with an outlet next to it. i tried a few separate spots before settling down on the second floor by the profumeria. oh, also there’s a salon. so i watched people get their hair cut, read man in the high castle, and watched students from the foreigners school. this mall is definitely the hang out. i was by far not the only person to sit in that lobby for five hours. when i left to wait for mattias at the station i saw the same table of old men sitting in the same spot as when i walked in.

so i got outside at the prearranged time, and mattias promptly picked me up at 5:15. mattias works as a general electrician at a pharmaceutical company that is in siena (actually located across the street from the mall). he used to work as an appliance repair man for electrolux but he said it wasn’t worth all of the physical labor and driving to continue in that field. now he works for okay money from 9-5. he told me that unemployment and under employment are huge problems for youth in italy and he feels lucky to have the job he does. he rents an apartment in a VERY small village ~20 minutes from siena with his girlfriend. i know mattias is in his late 30s...girlfriend looks maybe 22? she works as a receptionist at a hotel 8/12 months a year. mattias little brother (whose bed i’m in, can’t remember his name) is a jack of all trades and his girlfriend is a yoga teacher who makes the rounds through all the small towns outside of siena.

anywho first we hit up mattias apartment because his mom had gone there to meet me half way. we had some tea and cake prepared by girlfriend, who i will get to spend more time with on wednesday. then we headed to maddalena and claudio’s house, which was probably another 25 minutes out. the drive was DARK and half of it was on an unpaved road. the nearest town is 15km away (don’t think i’ll be doing that walk often) and nearest neighbor is 5km away. two families live at the farm, although i haven’t met the other family. maddalena said right now the forest is full of wild boar, deer, and wolves 🐺🐗🦌.

when i got to the house maddalena gave me some slippers and told me to rest, so i went through all this guys books and cds. at 7:30 she served dinner: lentil and black kale soup. i was also given a sampler plate of 3 cheeses claudio makes and asked to tell them which was my favorite. it felt like a test! i was served a fresh pecorino that tastes very grassy and almost tart like lemons, a hard pecorino that was salty, and a tomino that i just googled today—it’s a piemontese cheese that’s small, creamy, and spreadable. i voted #1 tomino, #2 fresca, #3 duro. not sure if i passed claudio’s test. to drink i got to try some wine that their neighbors make, a red. it was very nice!

then we talked about how trump is dumb and the environment is changing and how italy is used to embarrassing politicians. we cleaned up a bit post dinner. their sink is incredible! i will have to get a photo. i think i offended everyone a bit when they told me not to wash dishes because they had a dishwasher and i said “WOW!” like they are country bumpkins but we are in the deep deep country. they said they don’t have wifi because none of the companies service their area.

then we sat around the fireplace and listened to leonard cohen while maddalena knitted, i read, and claudio rolled and smoked a cigarette and did the crossword puzzle. italians seem to really like crossword puzzles. then i decided to hit the hay so i could post this.

had a minor freak out because none of my adapters fit into these wall plugs, but found a third adapter to plug into my frankenstein chain of adapters so i can charge phone and tablet. it’s probably not very safe.

as mentioned in gurls group, photos will have to wait until i get to better wifi as being in the sticks is eating up my data!

it sounds like tomorrow our day will start at 8 (leisurely) with breakfast and then i will clean the caseficio (dairy) to prepare for wednesday’s cheese making. i also get to meet the sheep tomorrow!

until then 👋🏼

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dontcallitadiet · 7 years

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Paris.

It’s been about three weeks since I’ve been back, the disoriented new non-newness of the city and jet lag have settled its shiny dust only revealing the same old patterns.

Still living at my ex-boyfriend’s, absolutely unable to admit that this is the ground zero for my malaise and plain old bummer feelings. Every time I brace myself to get out there, starting looking at apartment listings, getting rid of old shit, my ego rolls out the usual arsenal of conflicting thoughts and feelings when Lord (i.e. my true self hidden beneath this shit-avalanche) knows I should’ve been out years ago doing my own thing.

It is absolutely no wonder why, in this very moment, no matter how many times I try in vain to re-arrange this apartment to suit me, that I feel incredibly stifled to communicate just about anything. It’s at a point where my dependence on Yoann is on full display, which is only worsened by the fact that I can’t help but feel judged by those fucking invisible “others” in my head.

This time I’m trying not to digress too, too far off the subject. My food. The record of all the food that goes into my body.

For the first two weeks of my arrival, I was just so happy to be back but I borderline starved myself and ate very irregularly. I would (and usually I still do) eat a piece of fruit in the morning accompanying my usual cup of coffee (which I managed to abstain from for a few days during the worst of the my jet lag) then run around the city, refusing to eat anywhere that wasn’t deemed a favorite go-to or a new place I wanted to try. I also tried to refrain from indulging in croissants and baked good from the shit/industrial bakery downstairs...but you know, urges happened.

Week 1:

I actually ate at home most of the time, a bowl of muesli with red fruits from the primeur, then subsisting off time Monoprix brand buckwheat crepes, comté, eggs and wilted spinach. Made a first batch of ratatouille full of love and inspiration which I (pretty much finished) with quinoa over the course of a few days, then a second batch I hastily threw together for lack of better ideas and guilt for wanting to eat out too much, marking the beginning of a downhill.

Week 2:

Ate a unbelievably heavy “salad” with potatoes smothered in blue cheese and cantal, topped with charcuterie awkwardly at a “Chez Papa” franchise with Seb in the 19th next to Place des Fetes, meeting him for the very first time. Then ate a giant steak dinner at Brutos for my birthday. It was unabashed gluttony that left me feeling sick at the end of it, and of course I was in a weird confrontational mood after eating a cannabis mint from earlier that day and ended the night fighting with Yoann over nothing, naturally.

This marked the downhill into weird, unhealthy starvation like patterns and eating out more than I want to. That following Saturday I had my usual muesli or some small breakfast thing before going to a TRX class in the 8th off the Madeleine then got so caught up wandering around the city, selectively starving myself until I ended up having an unsatisfying late lunch at the Tajine spot at the Marche des Enfants Rouges. I wanted to get the vegetarian dish, but didn’t listen to myself and got the chicken.

That Sunday, I met up with Tonton Francois in Porte de Choisy and just let myself go and eat myself go as I do at all family functions. There is a certain comfort I associated to Vietnamese/southeast Asian foods that makes me go fucking nuts.

Tuesday September 26 (going off my calendar now), I ate and drank the shit out of Mary Celeste taking full advantage of Lucie’s employee discount. Over aesthetically plain beef cheek croquettes, grilled courgette topped with feta, a reorder of the vegan tofu dishes served with pickled aubergines, and a frangipane-like variation of a tarte aux pommes so good that it was hard to savor, we commiserated about anything and everything. She even accompanied me to ISTR down the street to satiate my undeniable craving for oysters (which in the end were not that great). My vegan homegirl #1.

Week 3:

Then I spent the last few days in anxious isolation/withdrawal (i think i tried Abri Soba somewhere in between?) anticipating work for fashion week, when dietary shit really hit the fan. Ten Belles Bread catering every, damn, day. The total abundance and excess of fruit, snacks, catered food, completely overwhelmed my senses and left me completely vulnerable to shoveling everything into my face in front of everyone, struggling to communicate with my signature, bastardized blend of French and English that left my French coworkers bewildered most of the time who sometimes just smiled politely in return. By the third or second day in, I had given up my ritual morning coffee entirely in lieu for anywhere from 4 - 6 (I honestly lost count) shitty, toxic Nespresso capsule coffees all the while running around not knowing what to really expect.

Sleep was replaced with laying down with my eyes squeezed shut with tension that pulsed throughout my body, and with lack of appropriate footwear (fuck you Nike Huaraches) my life force drained directly through my aching lower extremities.

During this week, I went back to the very old and (shameful) habit of Deliveroo. One night during a thunderous, torrential downpour I managed to find exactly one shop that delivered coconut curry soup, which I added some soba noodles I had found which restored me back to life temporarily....

That Friday night, the first day of rest/freedom actively spent doing as little as possible, getting a coffee at Fontaine de Belleville then later meeting Rosie on the canal and inevitably ending up at Ten Belles (in general I go there way more often than I’d like to admit, not for taste or vibe but completely out of location and convenience factor). That night Yoann and I went to Wanted for a pizza dinner, again finding myself in a stormy, confrontational mood that overflowed with uncontrollable anger at the end of the night when he just retired to bed with a book instead of entertaining me further. I knocked over all the chairs in the living room, my heart stricken with unidentifiable, unjustified rage to the point that I had to call my parents for support and to calm me down.

Week 4:

Had sex in the morning that left me in tears and feeling empty after orgasm.

Saturday send-off meal at the new Holybelly with my Polish connection/fashion week crew. Poached eggs, haloumi, mushrooms, and bacon (furnished by the beast) with gluten-free cornbread option out of curiosity. Everything was just as i remembered except laden in grease and fat, which lead me to wonder how I went through three years of eating this for staff meal. The mushrooms left a oil trail, which I was definitely guilty of overseasoning time and again when I was a cook back there, and the bacon was just as salty, floppy, and undercooked as I remember...could not even finish it. Haloumi was good, but couldn’t really enjoy it knowing that it came from the Oriental markets up the street towards Belleville. I ignored the call from my body to stop in exchange for a gentle stroke of my ego to quality check my pecan coffee cake which was now their staple dessert. I relished superficially as Sven and Romain devoured their pieces, while I left half of mine as we got up to leave...extra points for the ego discovering Sven had eaten the rest of it while I was in the bathroom.

After my food coma had settled, I went back out to get a jump rope from Go Sport at Republique...a sort of subconscious act of repent. Jump roped. Waited for Yoann to get back from his bike ride. Had violent, overindulgent, excessive amounts of post-menstrual make-up sex that set off the cycle of dependency once more.

Went out for cocktails to the show him Le Comptoire Generale, then picked up some burgers from OBU on the way back. Only got some fries, ate borderline bad beef noodle salad leftover from fashion week (gross.). Fell asleep watching blade runner.

Following day, ate a somber, bland meal at Le Bichat for dinner after he came home from Parc Asterix again as some subconscious act of repent.

Made a modest beef bolognese with the leftover tomatoes in the fridge that has us Monday and last night. Still feeling incredibly gross and guilty for using industrial ground beef from Monoprix.

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samanthasroberts · 7 years

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The Fourth of July: how to celebrate in your 20 s and 30 s

With age comes political awareness, higher booze indulgence, and an earlier bedtime. But its possible to be an adult and still enjoy yourself this weekend

The Fourth of July used to be one of my favorite vacations, but the significance of the working day has changed since the halcyon dates of slipnslides and flat soda pop. When I was a kid, it was all fireworks and good cheer, plus the kind of pure, unadulterated patriotism that exclusively the young and blissfully unaware of our countrys international foreign policy can tap into.

As an irresponsible 20 -year-old, I obligated the Fourth a bit of a blue-collar bacchanal of inexpensive hot dogs, lukewarm brew, and far more unauthorized fireworks obtained from Mexico. Now, all I can think about is how to keep my puppy from freaking out over the constant popping dins in our vicinity, whether or not the person or persons at my barbecue can be noted my bald-headed recognize, and how soon I can go home. My extent is that getting age-old is nasty.

With age comes political awareness, higher booze indulgence, and an earlier bedtime. But its possible to be a responsible, perpetually harried adult and still enjoy yourself this weekend. Heres how.

Age 10: Indulging at an early age

Ah, the ignorant bliss of boy. Photo: Alamy

Fun : As a kid, the Fourth necessitates gratifying in carbonated beverages in unlimited quantities. I could drink an entire two-liter bottle of Pepsi by myself if I really applied myself. The remainder of my Fourth of July barbecue event was running around, forestalling reserves( I couldnt swim, as you might know) and realizing the rare opportunity to go sans-shoes without my mother perturbing Id step on a fingernail and get tetanus. Patriotism : Its easy to be a patriot when youre a kid, especially in my suit as my father was in the Us air force. He was sent to Saudi Arabia during the first Gulf war, which intended we were even more patriotic than usual during that whole point. I was the proud proprietor of countless Gulf war trading placards and at least one plastic Army tank toy. In short, I thought of Americas capacity in the world being same to a game of Missile Command.

Fireworks : My dad was really particular about refuge with fireworks. Wed have to stay at least 15 ft away from the explosion, and he always remained a barrel of sea handy in case circumstances got out of restrict. Every time hed get those serpents that all boys detest. You light a pitch-black disc on fire and it expands into something that resembles rat excrement. If you get to hold the sparkler, youre really doing well for yourself.

Age 20: Heavy on the drinks

In your 20 s, the Fourth necessitates going blackout drunkard and usually throwing up on someones backyard. Photo: persona cyberspace

Fun : In your 20 s, the Fourth makes get blackout drink and usually throwing up on someones backyard. The inquiry isnt so much what the hell is drink, but how early to start? My nights ever purposed the same path: eating leftover waldorf salad and watching Fight Club on DVD or bootleg torrents of Family Guy. I had frightful taste.

The biggest change in Fourth of July galas in your 20 s is that you dont have a backyard any more. You possibly have some crappy suite or dorm that may or may not have a just comfortable spot of astroturf. Maybe they are able to hoax your one sidekick who has a rooftop to hurl “states parties “, but is it genuinely the same? Youre older now, but not age-old enough to appreciate that you arent dead.

Patriotism : Americas a bummer, man. My 20 s took place during the Bush years, so I was specially angsty about the United States. The Fourth became an ironic party for me and my filthy leftist friends. Who could wear the tackiest flag-themed clothe? Who could perform the entire monologue from Independence Day? Look at us, drinking Budweiser and inhaling Marlboros. America, LOL! It was insufferable.

Fireworks: Fireworks in your 20 s are typically influenced by the amount of alcohol youve had beforehand. In my mid-2 0s, I would regularly go to “states parties ” hosted by your best friend Josh. Hed get very drunk and to continue efforts to light a sparkler with his cigarette. Illegal fireworks became a bit like scoring stimulants back then. You knew a guy who knew a guy which is able get you a pack full of shit who are able to specify your entire block on fire.

Age 30: All about the grub

Food grows far more important when youre a proper adult. Image: Morgan Lane Photography/ Alamy/ Alamy

Fun : Heres the same discussion I apprehend having at every party I listen: Do you have any IPAs? My bride enjoys IPAs. I created ros. Its such a red-hot era. Doesnt that resounded refreshing? Wheres your shower? Whens your marry again? October. Oh, the ros? I just finished it. Well, really good to see you again. Open your mothers my best good. Im just going to wait outside for my Uber. Can I bum a cigarette? Ill give you a dollar.

Food becomes far more important when youre a proper adult. There is likely to be vegans at your party. There will be guests who are gluten-free. There is likely to be be some pregnant mothers who challenge pickles dipped in ranch apparel.

Its polite to make something to any party, but specially a Fourth of July barbecue. These are communal liaisons, and you need to chip in. But what do you deliver? Bearing in mind the unique regulations that determine your fellow partygoers, it was necessary to creating something thats edible for everyone: healthy, but not too health; vegetarian-friendly, but not veggie bird-dogs or veggie burgers. Invariably, veggie dogs get eaten by non-vegetarians, who then feel put upon by carnivores who embezzle their food. Best to not compose that clear fraction.

I recommend apple pie.

The point is not to build yourself glad, its to slake a social obligation, so just purchase a happen that has a patriotic significance and is also possible being used by just about everyone. Pro tip: get a gluten-free one and only tell the people who are gluten-free. That road , no one revolves their nose up at it.

Patriotism : By the time you make 30, your own country has let you down several hours. No is important that surface of the ideological spectrum youre on, you will probably end up observing something to complain about: taxes being too high, taxes being too low, the damn Democrats, the sneaky Republicans, the cost of medical care, the proliferation of firearms, the lack of guns, the crummy US soccer team, and of course, whomever the president is. The United States to a person past persons under the age of 30 is nothing more than a stodgy debt collector that likewise happens to be a huge prude.

Fireworks : Fireworks? What fireworks? Who wants to put their children in harms behavior like that? At most, maybe you can light them at least 15 ft away from your house and deter a container of irrigate on hand just in case concepts get out of control.

Source: http://allofbeer.com/2017/09/17/the-fourth-of-july-how-to-celebrate-in-your-20s-and-30s/

from All of Beer https://allofbeer.wordpress.com/2017/09/17/the-fourth-of-july-how-to-celebrate-in-your-20-s-and-30-s/

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