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harrysweasleys · 5 years ago

Text

Legacy

Summary: Slytherin Reader is married to Fred and the two have a daughter. When she goes off to Hogwarts and gets sorted into Slytherin, it’s a tough pill for Fred to swallow.

Warnings: angst, language

Word Count: 3.6k

A/N: So I really enjoyed writing this one. It starts off a little slow but it picks up, I promise!! I’m just soft for dad Fred. he deserved better.

The pairing of Fred Weasley and Y/N Y/L/N was unlikely to say the least. The two, who had been in the same year, didn’t find themselves in each others’ company during their time at Hogwarts. But, Y/N, who was loyal to the school, had saved him from a terrible fate during the Battle of Hogwarts, and the two found their way together after that.

She had known of the Gryffindor prankster, he was not exactly subtle in their years together at Hogwarts. On multiple occasions, the tall ginger twin had set of Dungbombs and Fireworks in their classrooms. Y/N never admitted it, but she always found the twins’ pranks quite amusing. She would silently laugh behind her hand as McGonagall or Flitwick, or sometimes even Snape would glare at them and remove points from Gryffindor. But, that never dampened the spirits of the brothers, who always found a way to keep people on their toes.

Y/N, on the other hand, tried not to bring too much attention to herself in her time at the school. She was placed in Slytherin, much to her parents’ utter thrill, and kept her circle of friends small. She only really had two friends — a dark-haired boy named Stellan and a blonde girl named Alice. The two had been her go-to companions practically the whole time she was there. They had been some of the only non-pureblood-fanatics she had met. Sure, she prided herself in being a pureblood with well-respected parents, but found no understanding in why some people in her house — particularly Draco Malfoy — found pleasure in bringing down those who weren’t.

After graduating, Y/N took time off and debated coming back to Hogwarts as a professor — the late Professor Snape always told her she had a talent for Potions — but with the looming threat of the Dark Lord’s return, she decided to stay on the down-low and get a job in Diagon Alley at Quality Quidditch Supplies.

She spent five years being a Chaser on the Slytherin Quidditch team, she really did love the sport. She also found herself wandering into Weasley’s Wizarding Wheezes during her breaks, admiring the new products on the shelf and having a laugh at those who tried some of their infamous sweets. How the twins managed to keep people smiling in such a dark time, she had no idea.

When the Battle of Hogwarts came to be, Y/N found herself on the frontline, ready to defend the school that her heart belonged to. Which is how she found Fred, cornered in by a Death Eater, who looked ready to kill. She had sent him a curse — ‘levicorpus!’ — and Fred knew right there in that moment that she was the one.

The two found each other one day in Diagon Alley, and they were both done for. Falling in love didn’t come hard for these two. Five years later, they were married, and two years after that, their first child — a daughter — was born.

Ariella Weasley took after her father. She had long, curly ginger hair and freckles scattered across her pale cheeks. The older she got, the more she resembled him. She also did take after her mother, though, because she had Fred wrapped around her little finger. She also had her mother’s pale Y/E/C eyes and her honest smile.

“I’d die for the two of you, y’know?” Fred mumbled to Y/N one night as the two put their baby girl to sleep. Y/N knew, she’d die for the both of them too. They were her entire world.

As Ariella grew older, she started to have fun pranking her cousins with her dad. The two were like partners in crime, and Y/N felt like the luckiest woman alive to be surrounded by two of the liveliest people in the universe.

When Ariella was 11, her Hogwarts letter came in the mail.

“Now, Ari, you’ve got a reputation to live up to. A legacy if you will,” Fred told her, sitting her on the couch, “Uncle Georgie and I really left our mark on Hogwarts, yeah? So keep in mind that you’ve got to live up to it.”

Arielle looked to her mum, eyes wide.

“He’s kidding, love,” Y/N rubbed her back soothingly, “Your dad had a reputation of getting into trouble. If you chose not to go down that same path, you won’t hear me complaining.”

Fred rolled his eyes at his wife, “You know that I made sure things were never boring. Life is supposed to be fun!”

“Fun, yes,” Y/N chuckled, “But education is also important, especially for a young witch. Your dad caused many distractions.” Ariella looked between her two parents and shot them both a toothy grin.

“Trouble and learning go well together!”

Y/N shook her head, a smile on her face as well.

Fred grinned at the two of them, “That’s my girl! When you get sorted into Gryffindor, tell McGonagall I say hi.”

“If she gets sorted into Gryffindor,” Y/N reminded him, “Any house is fine, darling. They’ve all got their strengths.”

Fred was proud of his time in the scarlet and gold house, and he made sure people knew. Everyone in the Weasley family had been placed there and they had each been treated with respect every time they stepped foot back in the school. Ginny, Ron, Fred and George had been on the Quidditch team, Bill and Percy had been Head Boy — there was no shortage of love for the Gryffindor house in the Weasley family.

“But what if she gets placed in Slytherin?” Fred grimaced, “Goodness.”

Y/N thought he was joking, so she shrugged him off and faced her daughter, “I was a Slytherin, and I think I turned out fine.”

“You did, not everyone did. I mean, most Death Eaters came out of there,” Fred pressed on, arms crossed. Ariella looked between her parents, trying to figure out what she’d do if she wasn’t in Gryffindor.

“There are no more Death Eaters, Freddie,” Y/N was a little more stern, “Besides, I knew loads of people in Slytherin who didn’t end up working for the Dark Lord. You just gotta pick your battles.”

Fred dropped the subject and continued telling his daughter about all the things she has to look forward to in her upcoming years.

---

The day Y/N and Fred dropped her off at Platform Nine and Three Quarters was sad day indeed. Y/N shed a few tears, and Fred felt his heart crack slightly as he watched the red steam engine barrel out of sight.

The two made their way back, stopping by to have tea in London before taking their sweet time coming home, and when they got through the front doors a little after sunset, Fred threw his body down on the couch and dragged Y/N down with him. He wrapped her up in his arms and nuzzled his head into her neck.

“What are we gonna do with all this alone time, huh?” he smirked against her neck, placing a light kiss before abruptly pulling away, “Pillow fight!”

He caught her completely off guard and smacked a couch pillow across her face. She held back a gasp, grabbing the one behind her and smacking him right back.

The two battled it out until they were red in the face and panting, both slightly sore from toppling over furniture to avoid getting hit in the face.

“What should we do for dinner, love?” Fred wrapped his arms around her waist, kissing the side of her cheek, “First dinner without Ariella in a long time.”

“I know,” Y/N replied, the hollow feeling in her chest growing as she missed her daughter, “It’s weird. But I know she’s off to go have the best seven years of her life.”

“Yeah,” Fred responded, “Maybe she can even bring home the House Cup!”

“Maybe she can,” Y/N twirled around, placing a light kiss to her husband’s lips and trailing off into the kitchen.

---

The next morning, Y/N and Fred Weasley were awoken by a large owl knocking at their window, a letter attached to its scrawny leg.

“Oh, it’s from Hogwarts,” Y/N grinned as she opened the window, plucking the letter off of the owl, tipping it with a quick snack, and letting it fly back to where it came from.

She opened the letter and read it aloud;

‘Dear Mr. and Mrs. Weasley,

We are thrilled to inform you that as of last night at 7:03pm, your daughter Ariella Weasley has been sorted into Slytherin House. Headmistress McGonagall would like to send her well-wishes and hopes this letter finds you well.

Forms will be going out next month to students who wish to come home for the Christmas and New Year holidays.

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry’

Y/N placed the letter down with a smile, her heart thumping loudly, “Hey, she takes after her mother after all! She’s in Slytherin!”

“What?” Fred muttered, his face paler than usual. His hands gripped the bedsheets, “She’s in Slytherin?”

Y/N clutched the letter in her hand and made her way over to the bed, sitting next to him with a smile on her face, oblivious to his lack of enthusiasm.

“That’s great, I’m happy for her. I wonder if I should tell her about the secret passageway next to the fireplace—”

“She’s in Slytherin? Why?” Fred placed his head in his hands as if searching his brain for the answer. Y/N dropped the letter and held onto his wrists, forcing him to look up at her.

“What’s the issue? Why are you so upset she’s in Slytherin?” she tried to hide the hurt in her voice at how lowly he thought of her house. Yes, Slytherin had a reputation, but that was in the past. Y/N had a lot of emerald pride.

“Because — Slytherin, Y/N,” he shook his head, “I mean, come on. Voldemort was Slytherin, Malfoy, Snape, Crabbe and Goyle—”

“So was I,” she crossed her arms, raising an eyebrow, “First off, Voldemort was fifty years before us. Snape’s dead, may he rest in peace, so are Crabbe and Goyle. They made mistakes and paid for them. Not everyone in the house ended up being awful. Every house in Hogwarts has had their share of... troubled wizards. Slytherin happens to have had more, sure, but that’s not the house’s fault. It’s the wizard’s fault.”

Fred didn’t seem calmed by her words, not bothering to hide his distaste for Salazar Slytherin’s house.

“But they’re wicked. They’d cheat at Quidditch, they’d taunt first years, they’d always think they were better than everyone else.”

Y/N didn’t stop glaring at him, “Fred, you can’t be serious. I was a Slytherin and I saved your ass. Alice was Slytherin and she’s now an Auror, Stellan owns a store in Diagon Alley — which may I remind you, you do too.”

“That’s different,” he muttered, turning to face away from her and getting out of bed, “You were good. You’ve always been good. You should have been in Ravenclaw or something.”

“What?” she got up as well, forgetting about the letter on the bed, “What is your problem? Just suck it up and accept the fact that two of the women in your life are Slytherins.”

Without another word, she stormed out of the room and down the stairs, anger fuming from her ears. She knew Fred still held distaste for her house, but she thought that after all these years, he’d be way over it.

She stormed into the kitchen, making herself a cup of tea and grabbing the copy of the Daily Prophet that had been delivered at their doorstep that morning, sitting down at the table and sipping her tea. She looked over the announcements from the Ministry, seeing a few familiar names, and didn’t bother looking up from the newspaper when she noticed Fred begrudgingly walking down the stairs, his feet dragging across the floor as he sat across from her at the dining table.

“Love, I’m sorry,” he mumbled, trying to look at her over the newspaper, “I shouldn’t have said what I did, I was just shocked, I guess.”

“Shocked? Is that what you call shock? Sounds like a grudge, if you ask me,” she replied cooly, still not looking at him.

He sighed, “I overreacted, I know. I don’t know why, I just can’t help but think of them the same way that I did when I was in school.”

“Freddie, you can’t do that,” she finally lowered the paper and placed it aside, “Firstly, it hurts me. Secondly, it’ll hurt Ari as well if you start dissing Slytherin. She was really nervous, she doesn’t want to disappoint you.”

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he reached across the table and held her hands gently, “And I don’t want Ari to think I’m disappointed in her. I just — I’ll get over it, I promise.”

---

Over the next few months, Ariella wrote to the two of them, expressing how excited she was to be making friends. She also ranted on for two pages about her love for Transfigurations and Herbology. Her Professor, Neville Longbottom, had been a friend of Fred’s when he was at school.

Fred had grown more used to the fact that his daughter was a Slytherin, and the conversations involving her house were usually pretty short between him and Y/N.

As the Christmas holidays rolled around, Fred and Y/N had decorated the house in preparation to finally have their daughter home. Although they never really lost contact, it had been a long few months for her parents.

“The train’s arriving at two o’clock, Fred! You need to get going!” Y/N whisked him out the door, placing a quick kiss on his lips before returning to the kitchen and continuing the cookies she had been making. It was rare she did them the muggle way, but she had time to spare and thought baking would be fun.

Within the hour, Fred and Ariella arrived through the door, both grinning and red-nosed. Y/N rushed over to her daughter, scooping her up in her arms and squeezing her.

“Mum, ouch,” Ariella giggled, “At least let me take my shoes off.”

Y/N placed her daughter down and started removing her apron, rushing into the kitchen to place the fresh batch of cookies in front of them both. Fred grinned, shoving three of them in his mouth and smiling at Y/N, crumbs falling all over the table.

Ariella grabbed her trunk that Fred brought in and excused herself, rushing upstairs to her room to put it away.

“These are good, they taste like Christmas,” Fred spoke through another mouthful of cookie.

“Fred, don’t eat them all,” Y/N chuckled, moving the plate out of his reach with a smirk, “I haven’t got all holiday to keep making more.”

He sagged his shoulders and sighed dramatically, “Fiiiine.” He walked around the table, pressed a kiss to Y/N’s forehead, and nearly jumped out of his skin when Ariella came tumbling down the stairs in a mess of green.

“You good?” Y/N asked her daughter, holding back a laugh as Ariella stood up, brushing herself off as if no one noticed her fall.

“Yep, totally,” she walked it off, placing a mess of fabric down on the table, “Anyways, I wanted to show you guys my stuff! Here’s my Slytherin scarf, I usually only wear it to Quidditch games — oh, we beat Hufflepuff real good — and here’s my tie. Getting used to it was weird but I quite like it now. And here’s my sweater that a girl in my house gave to me as a Christmas gift.”

She lifted up the bulky green sweater, showing off the giant Slytherin house crest on the front, “It’ll be my new go-to during matches in the springtime. Slughorn — he’s head of my house — says I’ve got unmatched Slytherin pride! He also says hi, mum.”

Y/N smiled, placing her hand on her daughter’s shoulder, “This is all lovely, darling. I’m glad you’re so proud of your house. And tell Professor Slughorn I say hi back.”

Ariella grinned, picking up the scarf and wrapping it around her neck, tossing her ginger hair over her shoulder and posing, “Doesn’t green just suit me?”

“Of course —”

“We get it, you like Slytherin,” Fred snapped from next to the fridge. He was leaning against it, arms crossed as he watched his daughter flaunt her Slytherin clothing items, a proud grin on her face.

“Fred...” Y/N dropped her head, taking her hand off of her daughter’s shoulder, “Come on, we’ve been over this.”

“Over what?” Ariella piped up, slowly removing her scarf as if she was offending him, “Dad... were you... ashamed that I was placed in Slytherin?”

Fred sighed, avoiding eye contact with her and looking out the window at the slow snowfall. Ariella seemed to take this as a yes, and she dropped the scarf on the table with a defeated sigh.

“Ari, honey, it’s not —”

“It’s fine, I get it,” she scoffed, taking off upstairs with loud footsteps. Y/N flinched as the door slammed shut loudly, rattling the walls of the house. She picked up the scarf on the table, remembering how proud she was when she brought all of her stuff home to show her parents for the first time as well.

“Fred, you need to let this go,” Y/N said softly, not taking her eyes off of the scarf, “You can’t keep denying that she’s not in Gryffindor. I get it, every Weasley has been in that house, but she’s not just a Weasley. She’s a part of me too, and she’s taken after you in every other aspect — her hair, her attitude, her freckles, her laugh — why can’t you accept the fact that for once, she’s taken after me for something?”

Fred seemed to ponder her words. He had never thought about it that way. People always told him about how much she resembled him in every aspect, but it wasn’t often that people said that to Y/N. And now, she watched with pride as her daughter was placed in her old house. It was almost like she could finally see herself in her.

“You’re right,” Fred mumbled, “You’re completely right. Merlin’s beard, I’ve been an idiot.” He wrapped his arms around his wife and pulled her into him, hugging her as if his action was louder than his words.

“You have to go tell her that, she’s the one who thinks you’re ashamed.”

Fred pulled away and sighed, running his hand down his face and nodding, “You’re... you’re right. I need to go talk to her. She needs to know that I am proud of her. I always will be. And... that her mum was the most badass Slytherin ever. She’ll take after you there.”

Y/N giggled, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, “Go tell her that, Freddie.”

“Can you come with me?” his voice was barely above a whisper and Y/N nearly swooned at how desperate he was. Ariella was, no doubt, a daddy’s girl, so having her dad come around and reassure her would mean the world her.

“Of course, love,” Y/N placed a kiss on his cheek and the two of them walked upstairs. She knocked slowly on her door and once a quite ‘come in’ was heard, she opened it and looked down at her daughter. Ariella was sitting on her bed, reading ‘Hogwarts: A History.’

When she saw her parents walk in, both looking apologetic, she placed the book down and sat crosslegged, turning to face them.

“Your dad has something he wants to say,” Y/N nudged Fred forwards. He gave her a grateful nod and walked over to the bed, sitting down on the edge and placing his hands in his lap.

“I’m sorry if you thought I was ashamed,” he started, “I was shocked when we got the letter saying you were in Slytherin, I won’t deny it. When I was at school, the Slytherin students were always cunning, mean, rushing around the halls looking for any reason to torment the people they saw. They cheated, they lied, and eventually, a lot of them ended up working for the Dark Lord. I guess that now, twenty years after my time, I’m still thinking about that side of Slytherin. But then, after I left school, I met your mum. And she changed my opinion completely.”

Y/N sat there in awe, listening to what he had to say.

“She was caring, smart, loyal, funny — everything I wouldn’t expect from a Slytherin. I guess what I’m trying to say is that even though you take after me in every aspect of your physical appearance, I’m glad that your heart is like your mother’s. I’m proud of you.”

Ariella was close to tears, and so was Y/N. She watcher her daughter flail her arms around her dad’s neck and hug him like her life depended on it. Y/N sat by the door, her hand over her heart, and a loving smile on her lips.

She watched the smile spread across Fred’s face as he hugged his daughter back, relieved she wasn’t mad at him.

Later that evening, after Ariella had gone to sleep, Y/N and Fred sat on the couch, wrapped in blankets and watching the fire crackle in the fireplace. Her head was leaning against his shoulder, and his head leaning against hers. His hand was on her thigh, rubbing slow circles.

“I love you,” he muttered quietly, “I’m so sorry for everything. I’ve really been an idiot.”

“You have, but it’s fine,” she giggled, leaning up to face him, “I still love you.”

And she really did, with all her heart.

Who knew these two were so perfect for each other?

#fred weasley #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley imagines #fred weasley one shot #fred weasley one shots #fred weasley fanfics #fred weasley fanfiction #fred weasley x reader #harry potter #harry potter imagines #harry potter one shots

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thepenisparker · 7 years ago

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Mob!College!Tom Holland AU - Part One.

teaser ✵ part 1 ✵ part 2 ✵ part 3 ✵ part 4 ✵ to be continued...

summary: Tom Holland is quick and in a hurry to prove himself to his family business, so when his final mission before his dad hands him the torch is to protect some college girl by any means necessary. It should be easy. Right?

words: 2769

Summer was finally over, and if 15-year-old you had heard you say such a thing surely you would've stabbed yourself. But the end of summer meant all your friends would come back. People would refill the small college you wanted to go back to. Home wasn't the same when you came back from college, right when you started to get used to it, you got thrown back home where most of your friends you didn't talk to anymore or just plain didn't have many to begin with.

Kingston University was your home now, it was a private, selective and put students in cohorts that would then be categorized by their major. Yourself, you considered yourself a writer. But you weren't exactly keen on getting an English degree and went for a communications degree. Don't ask why, it was flexible. Going into your second year excited you, getting out of the house again and away from the toxicity at home.

"Welcome back!" you heard leadership teams yell with signs and covered in school spirit, truly it looked like your mascot threw up on them. What was funny was you knew some of them, and their school spirit wasn't as high as they led on. Remembering when the guy in the cut up school t-shirt took a piss on the statue in front of the junior housing.

You drove your car to a parking space in your new sophomore housing. You didn't really have any friends in your cohort, so you were nervous about meeting who would be your randomized roommate. Instead, you had friends who were all creatives with film and performing arts majors. You found them rather quickly, they had a tendency to be quite loud and outgoing.

"(Y/N)!" You were attacked with a hug walking out of the parking lot and into sophomore housing court. It was your one of 2 of your very best friends you gained in school, she was apart of the performing arts cohort with majoring in commercial music and all, Annika.

"Hey, babe." You hugged her back, excited to see her after so long.

"Where are you staying? Do you know yet?" She asked, "Sarah isn't here yet, but we're living on the bottom floor, so you better be above us. Then we know who to kill if there's too much noise."

"I don't know yet, where do I go?" You asked, she pointed over to a table with a long line, flipping her long dark hair over her shoulder. She had the most incredible big blue eyes that seemed to have flecks of green in them. She also had just recently gotten her nose pierced, which really suited her face.

"How was your summer?" Annika asked you, waiting patiently with you.

"Long, did a lot of working at the pub. I think I saved up enough money to get me through a day of school." You joked.

"I feel you, dude." Annika laughed, "Have you tried for any scholarships?"

"Every single one they'll let me apply for. I got emails back on 2 of them for next semester. This semester I'm getting only a quarter paid for though. It's looking like my graduation will just be me celebrating my life of debt." You said, rubbing the back of your neck with how far in it you are.

You continued to talk about Annika’s trip to Ecuador, where she did some charity and life-changing work with a group of friends. She invited you to it, and you wanted to go if it wasn't so expensive. You were used to not having that kind of money now, your family was always well off but now that you went against everything they believed in you don't have that source anymore. The home you came from made you grow up really quickly, this was just the last thing you had to take on.

"Next!" You heard a voice come from next to you, and you stepped up to the table quickly.

"Hi!" You happily looked up to see one of your upperclassmen friends sitting there, Sav.

"Hey! How was your summer?" They asked you,

"Long, lots of work." You sighed, having just telling Annika the same.

"That's good you're working though! Getting that cash." They smiled, looking over their list, "And I know exactly where you're staying, I'm your RA!"

"No way!" You squealed, reaching over to hug them.

"Yeah, here is your key. Room 209, and our floor meeting is tonight in the lounge at 10 PM. Don't be late." Sav said, handing you your key.

"Thank you, do you know who my roommate is?" You asked.

"It says, Victoria Reinhart?" Sav told you, tentatively, "I'm sorry I haven't met her."

"All good, thanks Sav. I'll see you later!"

"See you!"

"Well?" Annika urged, seeing you approach her with your key.

"Room 209?" You offered and she frowned.

"136." Annika said, "But I think Tony and Jacob are in 109, at least I think that's what they said."

"Oh, great." You rolled your eyes, knowing full well how loud those two were going to be.

"Speaking of—" Annika started but was cut off by the yells of two boys, so covered in school colored paint they were practically unrecognizable. They were yelling for you, and then suddenly you were thrown over their shoulder as they ran across the quad with you.

"Hey!" You pounded on their backs, scared of what they had planned, "Guys hold on! Put me down!"

“Okay.” The one on the left said and you recognized him as your friend Jacob. Typical.

Then you found yourself being dropped into the fountain on campus. It wasn’t particularly deep, but you were definitely soaked, with one of the spouts falling onto your head when you sat up.

“Are you okay?” You heard a voice, overall the laughter and heard the splashing of feet. You got yourself up out of the torture of the water pouring on your head to open your eyes to a boy who voluntarily got into the water. The bottoms of his jeans now soaked from coming in. His hand outstretched to you, and his face soft with big brown eyes and the cutest bunch of curls falling over his forehead.

“Yeah.” You replied simply and quietly, you didn’t take his hand though. Following him out of the fountain as people whispered, wondering who the boy nobody had seen before rejoining a friend of his with aloof blue eyes on the side of the fountain. The boy with the blue eyes wasn’t happy with your friend in the fountain at all.

You lost him in the crowd, being overwhelmed by your spirited friends laughing and offering you a towel after their prank.

"You guys are dead." You splashed the boys who waited aside from the fountain.

"We told you last semester, you were just waiting to be dunked!" Tony laughed, you groaned remembering their jokes.

"Give me some kind of warning!" You said, holding the towel around your shoulders and wringing out your shirt. You kept looking around, admittedly searching for your brown eyed attempted savior.

"You're no fun." Jacob laughed, "Hey, come to our housewarming party tonight! Room 109, we're inviting the whole building."

"Won't you get in trouble?"

"Not if the RA's are down to party too." He laughed, "And they are, let me clear that up—they are."

"Yeah, well since I'm your upstairs neighbor I might as well." You rolled your eyes.

"That's what I like to hear! And (Y/N), if you have any hot friends—please—I beg you—bring them." Tony added, putting his hands together in prayer.

"I'll make sure to bring Annika and Sarah." You laughed. Tony mouthed a thank you.

"I hate them." Annika rolled her eyes, rubbing your shoulders.

"Annika, did you know that guy?" You asked.

"That guy who got into the fountain? No, I've never seen him before." Annika said, "Whoever he was he was hot though. I hope he's at Jacob and Tony's party."

"Yeah, me too." You said, looking around then finally landing on Annika in front of you, "Now, give me a hug?"

"Stop!"

✵

Later as you started bringing your things in, leaving your door propped open, you watched and waited for your roommate to make an arrival. Your room was quite nice, a front living space and kitchen attached, with a short back hall that had a bathroom on the left and on the right would be your shared bedroom. It was going to take a lot of getting used to and moving stuff in. You needed to get some furniture for the living space if Victoria didn't bring any.

You had already changed into dry clothes, but your hair was still damp. You decided you'd leave it like that until you would go over to Annika and Sarah's to get ready for tonight. You sat in your kitchen, fixing up a decoration on the wall.

You heard a door slam and a key fumble before you saw a familiar flop of brown hair walk past your doorway. You ran to the doorframe, not really thinking through your actions. Your curiosity pulling you closer. But if your first year of college taught you anything, it was not to wait for people to make friends with you.

"Hey!" You called, catching him just a few feet away. He turned around and the longer you looked at him, the more attractive he became. He had a bag slid across his chest, clinging his t-shirt to his body.

"Hey." He said back to you.

"A-are we neighbors?" You looked to where he must've just come from.

"Looks like it." He said, shortly and patting his thigh.

"I'm (Y/N), I just wanted to introduce myself." You extended a hand, and he took it, "I swear I don't always get pushed into fountains. They mean well."

"Tom." He said back, "I don't know why pushing you in a fountain would be meaning well, but hey that's all you."

"Yeah," You continued, feeling wary of his judgemental tone, "anyways, thank you for down there. That was very sweet of you."

"Your welcome." He said, making a thin line with his lips and turning them up at the corners. His eyes looking over your face.

"Uh, there's like an all building party tonight that my friends are hosting. Apparently, all the R.A's are in on it, don't ask. But you and your friend are welcome to come."

"Thanks, I'll pass on the message." He said, nodding and then started backing up. You smiled, backing up too.

"Ok, cool." You shied away, giving an awkward wave before stepping back into your room. You shut your door after that. That was enough awkward interactions for the rest of the year. You put your hands over your eyes and decided to turn up your music until your roommate would hopefully arrive.

Hey, Sav! Is it possible I can get my roommate's phone number? Just curious as to when she's coming.

Delivered 5:07 PM

You texted Sav. Then waited, and waited. They were probably busy, it was move-in day after all. Maybe Victoria asked to come a day late? You decided not to dwell on it for too long. You unpacked all your clothes into what you assumed would be your side of the closet. Grabbing out something you could wear for tonight.

Your friends were all a lot more riskay than you were, always able to find themselves dates for the night from how beautiful they always looked. You could if you wanted to maybe, and the occasional flirt here and there was sweet. But you had never gone home with someone. Tonight, that wasn't going to change. In high school, that's who you were, and had no judgment toward one night stands. But that wasn't what you wanted to do anymore, limiting yourself. You just wanted to get a little tipsy, socialize, and get back to your room and watch Netflix until you fell asleep.

But that didn't mean you couldn't look good. You grabbed one of your favorite heather gray knitted halter tops, with a pair of high waisted black skinny jeans, and a matching suede black jacket over your shoulders in case it got chilly outside, which usually it did. Grabbing your hair products and makeup, you left your room, praying you wouldn't run into Tom or his roommate, running to find room 136.

They had left the door open, and your reunion with your curly haired friend Sarah was a joyous one. Hugging each other, then her grabbing your sides at how attractive you looked in your outfit. You thanked her, before sitting on their new couch.

"How's the move-in been?" Sarah asked, sitting across from you with her own makeup mirror.

"It's been fine, my roommate hasn't come yet though." You frowned, "Oh, and Annika!"

"Huh?" Annika answered from the back bedroom.

"Guess who my neighbor is?"

"Is it the hot guy from English last semester?" She asked, half thinking.

"No.." You dragged out your answer, "It's the new hot guy."

"Shut up!"

"What hot guy?" Sarah perked up at the sound of a hot guy.

"Did Annika tell you about how Jacob and Tony finally threw me into a fountain?" You asked and Sarah's face scrunched up in confusion.

"What do you mean finally? But yeah."

"Long story, but there was a guy who came into the pond all cute and offered me a hand up." You said, "I think he's a transfer, he's my neighbor."

"Oo I wanna see him." Sarah said, "Are you gonna go after him?"

"I don't know-" You started,

"If you won't, I will!" Annika called.

"I just said I don't know cuz he acted kinda weird in the hall. Like sorta rude, I don't know. I invited him and his friend to the party but I don't know if they'll come. I'm telling you, something was off."

"Something being off means nothing as long as the dick’s good," Annika said, finally revealing her outfit, which consisted of: a black bralette, fishnets, high waisted distressed and cut up jean shorts, red thigh high boots and a jean jacket to finish.

"You look so hot, I guess you'll probably find out faster than I will." You smiled at your friend.

"Let's hope, I'm trying to celebrate the new year." She stuck her tongue between her teeth and went to a mirror in their hall to put her hair up.

"(Y/N), are you gonna try and find someone tonight?" Sarah asked.

"I doubt it." You rolled your eyes, "If a guy comes up to me that isn't trying to get to you guys or that one of you didn't put him up to it, then maybe. But that's never happened so let's not hold our breath. I wouldn't be surprised if everyone thought I was lesbian, and I'm okay with keeping it that way."

"Whatever you say, just know if you wanted to, any guy would be happy to have you. Trust us." Sarah said, getting up for her setting spray.

"Whatever, my lesbian ass is getting us a pizza though. Last time I drank without eating first I threw up on the hot guy from English last semester. And that's not happening again."

✵

You ran up to your room, wanting to throw your stuff in there before it was locked in Annika and Sarah's room for the upcoming day. Cautiously walking in wanting to see if your roommate had gotten there, you shut the door behind you, only hearing the party starting below you. There was no one else in there, just that you could hear Jacob and Tony excited to be finally able to host their own parties.

But you also could hear something else. You didn't realize how thin these walls were going to be. There was a bit of yelling next door, you heard muffles bits.

"That's none of our business!" You heard an unfamiliar voice and couldn't help yourself putting your ear to the wall. It was coming from Tom's room, "You know that's not what we're here for!"

"We're here to protect her..." there was something else but you couldn't hear it. Protect who?

"From afar! We're not supposed to get involved." You heard the other voice again, it was stern and close like he was sitting in a chair right on the other side of the wall.

"... my dad trusted us with this. I know what I'm talking about, promise."

"Fine, we'll go. But just watching. I don't want this to get fucked up, Tom. This is a big deal for us. I'm just trying to look out for you." You heard the close voice again. And felt more confused, and guilty for listening. Who the fuck were these guys?

Thank you guys so much for reading! please pass it on, and tell me what you thought by reblogging, liking or sending me a message!

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thelifetimechannel · 6 years ago

Text

John and Jane ponder the dark side in this week’s bonus content.

JOHN: happy birthday! JANE: Oh! Why thank you! JANE: I guess it's yours too, isn't it? JOHN: that's right! JOHN: today is the day i get to catch up with everyone else, who think they're so much older. JOHN: the worst was being twelve when they were all thirteen, they thought they were so superior. JANE: Don't I know it. JANE: Do you know what Roxy would tell me back then when I got snarky with her? "Shut up, you're twelve." Drove me up the wall. JANE: I'd probably have been envious of them getting to get their drivers' licenses first, too. But alas, the best laid plans. JOHN: yeah, no one got to enjoy the rewards of getting older very much. JOHN: do you think there's a minimum age for creating a universe? JANE: If there is, this game is very irresponsible about it. JANE: Who in their right mind would let a bunch of teenagers run a universe? JOHN: oh, we made it this far. JOHN: it doesn't have cancer or anything this time!. JANE: How many times has the Frog had cancer...? JOHN: that was a problem last time. JOHN: the trolls rushed things along a little fast, i guess? jade explained it to me, but i wasn't clear on all the details. JOHN: but since dave helped make our frog we had all the time we needed to do things right. JANE: Are you positive? JANE: If things are going to go topsy-turvy again I'd like an advance warning. JOHN: apparently it was obvious for them as soon as they made it, so i'd say we are in the clear. JOHN: i am not a frog making expert, but none of the people who are seem worried. JANE: Good. I don't know if my Lifey thing extends to frogs or cancer, so I'm glad they won't be necessary. JOHN: we have lots of ways to solve problems now, if we have to JOHN: heh, i hope people don't start taking me for granted. JOHN: i've carried so many people to their quest crypts lately, i should start a taxi service. JOHN: or become like, the god of taking people to their death naps. JOHN: is that a thing? JANE: John, no more death. At least not today. JANE: As the birthday girl, I forbid it. JANE: But I will say that if you're good at something, you should indeed not do it for free. JANE: Speaking of which. JANE: Maybe you could be a delivery boy for my latest venture. How do you feel about blood? JOHN: um, JOHN: where are you getting it? JOHN: i know my nanna said she had some secret business ventures, but she never described anything like that. JANE: Nothing like that! I bought the blood from a wholesaler! JANE: And I, uh, never asked where he got it from. JANE: But it might've had something to do with a fridge full of corpses. JOHN: er JANE: ...I'm kidding. JANE: It was something I was joking about with Rose. JANE: I'd only have one customer anyway, and apparently she's better off without the stuff. JOHN: oh haha, rose is such a jokester. JOHN: she doesn't act like it, but she is. JANE: She has quite the wit. I hope I can keep up. JOHN: she has probably been getting complacent without us to keep her on her toes. JOHN: sure, she talks fast to try to confuse you, but she can be defeated. JOHN: one time i beat her at online scrabble, she has never lived it down. JANE: I'm sure I can come up with something to impress her. JOHN: that's the spirit! JOHN: it'll be so fun, seeing everyone interact with our teen grand parents. JOHN: i know jade was looking forward to meeting her grandpa, and of course i'd already sort of met you. JOHN: although you are different from your old lady form. JANE: Yeah, that's... weird. JANE: Not bad weird! But strange nonetheless. JANE: I'm pretty sure you're not supposed to think about what you'll look like old until you're at least thirty. JANE: But hey, now I know for sure. JANE: There's that mystery solved! JOHN: i don't know if she aged gracefully or not, since she lived under the thumb of alien queen. JOHN: she is still full of zest and vigor, even though she was briefly ashes over my fireplace. JANE: Becoming a sprite sure does give you a new outlook on life. JANE: Well, unless you're Erisol. Or mine. JOHN: heh, sometimes. JOHN: maybe once you've already lived one life time, anything else is a bonus. JOHN: she sure has been getting her mileage making baked goods. JANE: Must've wanted to catch up after spending so long on her "secret business dealings". JOHN: apparently she was plotting against betty crocker! JOHN: but those plans never came to fruition. JOHN: i guess she got to defeat her in the end through you. JOHN: i'm sure she would be proud. JANE: Well, you could ask. JANE: It must be ingrained. I've... always loved the company, but the woman at the top? JANE: She needed to go. JOHN: like i said, i always suspected, even before she announced to the world her true nefarious nature. JOHN: there was something about that marketing campaign that was just sinister. JANE: Yes, you completely called it. JOHN: you will have to usher in a new era of responsible corporations, assuming they actually exist. JOHN: maybe the true responsible corporation is a non existent one? JANE: Whatever I do with the company assets, I'll do my best to be responsible. JOHN: that is one more wrong we can right. JOHN: along with frog cancer, and making sure no one can make fun of us for being the youngest any more. JANE: Not until next year. JOHN: this time we can form a united front and get prank filled vengeance on them if they try. JOHN: join the dark side jane, we will be unstoppable. JANE: Uh. JANE: How about the mildly gray, mischievous but ultimately harmless side? JOHN: sounds good to me! JANE: Besides, I should be the one telling you to join the dark side with me. JANE: Obi-Wan never told you what happened to your Nanna, John. JOHN: :o! JOHN: this calls for a lengthy and dramatic exclamation before i plummet to my death. JOHN: except i feel like i've done enough variations of that today. JANE: Doesn't it get old after the first time? JOHN: in my experience basically all over dramatic emotional displays do. JANE: You know now that I think about it, yes. Yes, they do. JANE: I think I’d be happy embargoing any major expressions of emotion until further notice. JANE: Instead, we’ll have smaller emotions that happen more frequently and less obtrusively. Maybe five, sometimes as many as seven. JOHN: that sounds reasonable. JOHN: major break downs are just exhausting and make everyone upset. JOHN: i remember when i got so mad i passed out on my drive way, which was not productive for anyone. JANE: You made yourself so mad you passed out? JOHN: no, I didn’t make myself mad. JOHN: dave sprite was being a jerk, and there were some other circumstances. JOHN: it was complicated, we were all stressed out. JOHN: long road trips with your internet friends are not always as fun in practice as they are in theory. JANE: Been there, done that, am currently wearing the t-shirt. JOHN: i guess that is some sort of “valuable life lesson” to learn or what ever. JANE: Oh no, not another one. Haven’t we had enough for one day? JANE: Speaking of that though... JANE: Are you... going to be alright? JANE: With my dad around, I mean. JANE: From his perspective, you're his departed father! JANE: He might like to reconnect, based on that. JANE: But I know that might be difficult for you. JOHN: ... JOHN: yeah. JOHN: maybe some time, but probably not right away. JOHN: i think i'll have to get used to it. JANE: If you ever want to talk about it... JANE: I'm here, you know. Not that I can relate as much as some of the others can, since they've all lost people. JANE: But I thought I'd offer, as family, and since we just talked about those rascally emotions. JOHN: thanks. i'll remember it.

#bonus content

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rkxsungwoon-blog · 6 years ago

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✦ — MGA4 EPISODE 4: 2018 RELEASES #4048: HA SUNGWOON ; outfit: [ x ] TEAM F (FRESH N’ FRUITY): @rkmg, @jinsoulrk, @rkyxrim performance: shine - pentagon / line distribution + choreography notes

team h comes in second place. sungwoon stares in open-mouthed shock as the results are announced as if he can’t believe it himself. jei seems disappointed by their placement, but sungwoon thinks even making it to second place is pretty damn impressive with how unbalanced their team was. it was the boys’ lack of dancing skill that ended up bringing the group down, not her leadership or her choreography. when it comes down it, sungwoon’s grateful for all her hard work and a little upset to see team dynamiq split up for the next round.

though not completely—minhyuk is still on his new team, and sungwoon’s excited to get to work with him again. the rest of their teammates are on the younger side this time, so it’s nice to have someone else here to keep things focused and on track. once again, they’re practicing in the kt building; he’s grown used to the practice rooms here by now and takes comfort in the familiar (though part of still wishes he could get the chance to visit the nova building before all this is over).

but he gets thrown for a loop early in the morning, when minhyuk stops by to tell them he’s dropped out of the mgas. he’s terribly apologetic about the whole thing and brings them ‘i’m sorry’ cupcakes, but sungwoon still feels a little lost and unable to grasp what’s going on. he doesn’t feel like he can blame minhyuk for his decision, but he still finds it a bit unfair. they’re going to be the only team with four members now—and eliminations happened just yesterday. won’t the people who left feel like this is unfair?

sungwoon genuinely doesn’t know how best to react, but as the oldest one here now, he forces a smile and accepts minhyuk’s apology. “it’s okay, you gotta do what’s best for you,” he says. “we’ll be fine.” he tries to sound as reassuring as possible; the last thing he wants is for the rest of the group to feel anxious over something like this. it’ll be a challenge to fill the stage just with the four of them, but it’s too early to adopt a defeatist attitude. he’s sure they can work something out in the coming week.

privately, sungwoon just hopes this won’t hurt them in the round.

in the beginning, there are bananas.

one banana, to be exact, nestled in a transparent starbucks cup. sungwoon carries it into the practice room like the olympic torch because his dick of a friend thought it would be funny to mess up his order and sungwoon rolled with it. after minhyuk’s surprise exit, sungwoon needed a moment to clear his head and grab a cup of coffee from the nearby starbucks. he’d forgotten his wallet and tried to convince his friend to give him a drink for free—and the “cup of water: no water, no ice, banana, no” is what he gave sungwoon, no charge. sungwoon doesn’t know what he’s supposed to do with it and just brings it back with him.

thankfully, it’s hilarious, especially since jinsoul and yerim later suggest banana allergy monkey as a potential performance. sungwoon’s never even heard of the song, and the look he exchanges with mingyu is equal parts startled and worried as the girls show them the music video… the song and the choreography are almost saccharine in its cuteness, and sungwoon makes an attempt to follow along with the choreo halfheartedly before giving up and shaking his head. “i know i opened the can of bananas here, but, uh…”

but it’s a hidden camera prank—something to ease the nerves and break the ice between all of them. sungwoon slumps against the wall when the girls reveal they were joking and groans, clutching his hand to his chest. “you had me going there.” he genuinely thought he’d have to dance on stage a literal monkey (or banana) suit for a while. the atmosphere in the practice room after that is light-hearted and comfortable. sungwoon’s glad. he worried minhyuk’s departure would result in a heavy silence, but team f seems to be getting along just fine thanks to banana allergy monkey.

it’s surprising how quickly sungwoon warms up to mingyu, jinsoul, and yerim. prior to being grouped up together, he hadn’t really been paying attention to any of them. the mgas overall are so overwhelming, it takes all he has to focus solely on himself, much less others. luckily, they’re all agreeable and fun to work with, as an a bonus, their team is well balanced for once: sungwoon and jinsoul are both vocals, yerim is a dancer, and mingyu can rap.

song selection isn’t particularly difficult either. jinsoul initially suggests love4eva, but it doesn’t have enough of a rap to showcase mingyu’s talents. touch, giddy up, and jealousy also come up during their discussion, but sungwoon has to reluctantly bring attention to his lack of dancing ability. the choreographies for those songs are pretty difficult. finally, jinsoul suggests shine by pentagon, and they all agree it’s a good choice. there’s enough vocal and rap parts to satisfy their group’s needs, and a fun choreography for yerim as well. as a bonus, sungwoon loves the song, so he’s more than happy with their decision.

they decide on a group name pretty quickly too. it’s a play on the song title ‘365 fresh,’ their fruity beginnings, and their designation as team f: fresh n’ fruity. it captures the spirit of their team well, he thinks. the topic of leader comes up soon after, and sungwoon’s a little surprised to find himself put in the position. in some ways, it makes sense: he’s the oldest and he has experience, but he wonders if he’s really up to the task. this isn’t keeping his band together. people are counting on him to make sure they deliver the best performance possible by the end of the week. but it’s a responsibility he’s willing to accept. “thanks, guys. i really mean it. i’ll do my best for you all,” he says, giving them a confident grin.

inside, he’s not so sure, but he means what he said. he’ll do his best for this team.

sungwoon spends some time watching his teammates’ cuts from the previous episodes so he can get a better sense of their skills. in the process, he gets exposed to some of mnet’s more questionable editing choices, especially with yerim. sungwoon has a hard time reconciling the girl he met with the bratty kid on screen. dealing with woojin on a daily basis has given him more perspective, however. sometimes it’s the circumstances and sometimes it’s the people around you, but most problem kids aren’t really a problem at all if you’re willing to treat them with respect.

he suspects jinsoul probably deserves a lot of the credit for making yerim more comfortable with this team than she was with the last one. the two are really close, that much becomes obvious on day one, and it translates into a better working atmosphere for them all. he’s grateful for that. since they’re all comfortable with each other, it’s easier to toss ideas around and work together. sungwoon would like to believe he’s an approachable leader as well, but something makes him doubt that.

jinsoul is initially unable to tell him she wants the high note before the final chorus in the song. yerim advocates on her behalf, but sungwoon doesn’t get a chance to talk to jinsoul about it until they’re practicing together. it’s not really a fight or even an argument; he just wants to work things out and make sure jinsoul won’t regret anything on stage. she’s a good, kind person, but he figures she must be a little nervous because of her team placement from last week and doesn’t want her to hold back for anyone’s sake, much less his own.

in the end, they decide to leave things the way they are. while sungwoon thinks jinsoul really deserves it, he doesn’t want to push a decision onto her either way. if she’s not confident enough this time, that’s fine—he just hopes that in the future, jinsoul will go for what she wants. she’s talented enough to pull it off, and if nothing else, sungwoon believes in her. he privately vows to himself that he’ll make sure jinsoul gets her chance in the spotlight despite all this.

one of the things he likes the most about team f is their creativity. shine is a great stage to begin with, but they’re always thinking of ways to go beyond and transform the performance into something wholly theirs. together, the team eventually comes up with a shoujo manga-esque concept, since the song is about a love confession. it’s a school setting, with yerim kicking off a string of love confessions, and by the end of the song, everyone is paired off with their respective partners.

out of consideration for his short stature and pride, sungwoon gets paired with yerim. while the performance starts off with yerim confessing to mingyu, she and sungwoon ‘end up’ together at the end. sungwoon is supposed to have a crush on her throughout the performance, and they have a lot of partner choreo together as well. staying serious is a problem though; they both recognize the ridiculousness of the scenario and break out into laughter whenever they have to pretend to act like love-struck fools. it takes a while, but they finally learn to control their expressions during their parts.

sungwoon brings lunchboxes and snacks for his team throughout the week. he’s not known as the naggy mom friend in all his circles for no reason, but he genuinely enjoys cooking for other people too. and he wants to be sure everyone’s eating and staying hydrated in such a busy time. amusingly enough, this leads to him being named the ‘team dad’ for a second week in a row, though he could probably do without the nicknames that come out of it too. still, he thinks he doesn’t mind being the team dad here. sungwoon could do a lot worse than be tied to these three.

he isn’t looking forward to their team being dissolved. can’t they work together for the rest of the show? wishful thinking, but you gotta have dreams.

they all practice hard. he feels like a misconception people might have is that their team is all about laughter and goofing off. while yes, they have fun, they take things seriously as well. yerim and jinsoul are a hundred perfect dedicated to the performance; yerim helps everyone out with their dancing as the best dancer out of all of them, and jinsoul takes meticulous notes on their practices, pointing out mistakes and areas of improvement as kindly as possible. and mingyu—his work ethic is unbelievable. he stays late and shows up early; sungwoon feels like he’s constantly practicing, giving he upcoming performance his all.

and then he finds out mingyu stays in the practice room all night. sungwoon doesn’t know what to do—he feels like this is something he should’ve caught onto earlier and wants to make sure mingyu isn’t pushing himself beyond his limits, but it obviously goes deeper than that. there’s something else going on. after some hesitation, mingyu finally opens up about his worries regarding the competition. having been in one of the bottom ranking teams last week, he’s scared it might happen again and wants to work twice as hard to make sure it doesn’t.

sungwoon gets it; of course you wouldn’t want to risk being in the same position twice. he promises mingyu team f won’t suffer the same fate. “believe in us,” sungwoon says, clapping him on the back. “we’re not going anywhere, okay?” it’s a confident statement, but he sees how hard everyone’s working, how fervently they believe in this team’s potential. sungwoon can’t help but get swept up in it too. it’s his job to keep everyone’s spirits up, keep them focused and believing they can take that number one spot. trust in something long enough and you can make it happen.

they’ve all overcome a lot. it would be a shame to go out like this.

sungwoon returns to the practice room after their ‘team bonding’ dinner at yerim and jinsoul’s house. it’s a little hypocritical of him to do so when he told his group mates to get some rest for tomorrow, but he’s not going to be able to sleep anyway, so why not do something useful with his time and practice the choreography? he has jinsoul’s notes and yerim’s pointers to work with. sungwoon feels like he’s been helped by this team members a lot this week and doesn’t want to let them down.

it’s late and the only sounds he can hear are his shoes scuffing against the floor and his own laboured breathing. he’s familiar with some of the point choreography already, but sungwoon really wants to nail it as best as possible. this dance is more about charisma and energy than it is about skill, but that doesn’t mean you can’t pay attention to skill at all. enthusiasm can only take you so far.

he goes over the non-partner dances until they’re drilled into his skull, sings until his lips are dry and cracked, his throat protesting. sungwoon knows he’s teetering on the edge to pushing himself to a breaking point—the very thing he was worried about for his teammates—but the sharp voice in his head tells him to break if he must. nothing less will be accepted. after all, he doesn’t want to have any regrets either. nothing less than his absolute best will be accepted.

eventually, he takes a break. sungwoon’s shirt clings to his skin as he shuffles forward to get a drink of water before laying down spread-eagle on the floor. it’s pleasantly cool down here; he rolls over and presses his warm cheek to the floor and sighs. truthfully, he’s fucking exhausted, but he can’t stop here. a little more practice, then he’ll head home to hopefully get a couple of hours of sleep before the soundcheck. with that in mind, sungwoon wills himself to get up, but he can’t muster up the energy to do anything besides roll onto his back and stare up at the ceiling.

he catches a glimpse of the camera recording his pathetic solo practice out of the corner of his eye. “are you there, mnet? it’s me, sungwoon,” he quips, laughing tiredly when he gets no response. talking to a camera… cool. mnet’s always there anyway. pausing, sungwoon licks his lips and thinks of what to say. ideally, there’s a lot he wants to get off his chest but more than half of it is stuff he knows he shouldn’t vocalize. after some deliberation, he settles on a plea. “i know you’re not santa claus and we don’t always get what we want here, but… i don’t want to say goodbye to jinsoul, yerim, or mingyu this week.”

himself? it’s a toss up. sungwoon feels burdened every time someone goes home. this wasn’t his dream when he came on here. it seems deceitful for him to still be on the show. he doesn’t know where he stands now, and that’s almost as bad. some of last week’s eliminations wear on him; sungwoon wasn’t close with any of those who left, but it wasn’t easy to watch. he doesn’t want to see other peoples’ dreams get crushed… but in his heart of hearts, he wants to selfishly stay on the show too. but it’s like he said—they don’t always get what they want here.

“please watch over team f kindly,” he finishes lamely, forcing himself onto his feet. feeling foolish for speaking to an empty room, he chuckles and rubs the back of his neck. “this probably isn’t going to air, right?” just as well people don’t get to see him make a fool of himself. sungwoon gives the camera two thumbs up before starting up the music again to practice. mnet’s not going to save his team because he asked nicely; he needs to put in the work to make it happen.

and you bet he fucking will.

soundcheck passes by in a blur and soon they’re backstage watching the other groups perform. once again, sungwoon’s team is slated to take the stage near the end of the show. he has mixed feelings about it: on one hand, the extra time helps him prepare mentally for going up on stage. on the other, the anticipation is killing him. sungwoon tries to distract himself by watching out for his former teammates and cheering them on whenever they take the stage. the performances are all just as good—if not better—than last week. he really sees some people he didn’t notice before shine up there.

finally, it’s their turn. before team f goes up on stage, sungwoon stops them with an uncharacteristically serious look. “guys, i—” he breaks off and shakes his head. whatever he wants to say can wait; there’s no point in bringing the mood down before they even perform. instead, he affixes a bright smile to his face and pumps his fist in the air. “we got this! fighting!” sungwoon’s designated sappy speech can wait till they’re done.

on stage, it falls to him to kick off the greeting. as rehearsed, sungwoon begins with, “nice and juicy—“ while the others chime in with “—fresh and fruity!” he bites back a laugh as he delivers the rest of the introduction. “hello, we are team fresh n’ fruity! i’m our bananappa, ha sungwoon. please keep me fresh in your hearts!” jinsoul’s assigned fruit is peach, mingyu’s an apple, and yerim gets the cherry. sungwoon should’ve petitioned for watermelon, but the banana is a nod to their start.

the lights dim. they quickly get into position as the first notes of the instrumental intro fill the studio. keeping in theme with their shoujo manga concept, the stage is set up to be reminiscent of a classroom. they’re all dressed in school uniforms too, borrowed from hanlim students they know. seated at makeshift desks on stage, sungwoon pretends to be absorbed in ‘studying’ for a few seconds before throwing his pencil down and stretching his arms over his head. he pretends to watch in shock, mouth open in a giant ‘O,’ as yerim starts off the song by pulling mingyu away and confessing to him.

after her rap, yerim and jinsoul run off giggling together and the focus shifts to sungwoon’s part. the choreography here is the same as the original song and meant to be energetic. he’s able to keep up, having spent as much time as he can practicing. everything he learned last week under jei’s guidance comes in handy as well, and he makes sure to grin widely for the camera, making it clear he’s having the time of his life up here.

달라질게 없는 맘을 가진 너는 마치 뿌리 깊은 나무 같아서

they decided to stick to the regular choreography for the chorus as well. the dance is iconic enough that the audience has to be able to enjoy it and follow along. sungwoon himself knew of it thanks to vines before he ever saw a video of the song. his movements aren’t as polished as the rest of his team’s—he knows he’s the weakest dancer out of all of them—but he hopes his enthusiasm and dedication to the dance makes up for it. this stage is meant to be fun, and that’s really what he wants people to take away from his performance. sungwoon’s having fun.

그래 나는 머저리 머저리

이 세상 너 하나면 돼

it’s mingyu’s turn to confess to jinsoul during his rap next. once he’s done, sungwoon walks over to one side of the stage while singing with mingyu while jinsoul and yerim walk to the other. they’re supposed to be talking to each other about their crushes, so sungwoon tries to throw furtive glances over to where the girls are, trying his best to channel a combination of sneaky and awkward. it really takes him back to his high school days…

용기가 없어서 i’m sorry 더 맘껏 비웃어 그래 나는

they change it up for the second chorus: mingyu glances over at the girls while singing his lines while jinsoul looks over at the guys while singing hers. they start walking back to the centre of the stage for sungwoon and yerim’s partner choreo. while walking backwards, they bump into each other and look at each other shly; sungwoon blushes under the harsh stage lights and scratches the back of his neck as he sings his lines to yerim, recalling his own high school crushes and what it felt like to be in love with someone. the feeling isn’t as elusive as he thought it would be.

baby i’m only yours oh oh oh

난 사랑 앞에선 늘 찌질이

mingyu raps again, and it’s back to sungwoon and yerim singing together. he follows after her while singing his lines, trying to confess, but she doesn’t realize what he’s trying to do. finally, both pairs stop in the middle of the stage, sungwoon and jinsoul standing back to back, and deliver their confessions. it’s the part with the disputed high note, and though sungwoon ended up with it in the end, he and jinsoul still need to harmonize together. while he sings, he gets down on one knee and offers yerim a giant paper heart he pulled out of his jacket, aware that jinsoul’s doing the same behind him.

한가지 말할 게 있어 난 네 앞에 서면 떨려

[JS/SW] 너를 사랑해

they delve into partner choreography after that as the love confessions are accepted, and there’s an extra bounce, a lightheartedness to his movements now as he follows the dance, looking at yerim like how he’d look at someone he was crazy about. sungwoon would normally feel nervous about dancing with someone else like this, but he has team dynamiq and jei’s partner choreography to thank for his ease up on stage right now.

그래 나는 머저리 머저리

이 세상 너 하나면 돼

the last part before jinsoul finishes the song is one they sing together. there’s more cute partner choreography here, with mingyu hugging jinsoul during his “my baby!” line.

(everybody says) 눈누난나 너와 나 눈을 감아 뭐 할까 (뽀뽀) 구구까까 butterfly

at the end, they stand in their respective couples, looking like a high school drama come to life. sungwoon makes a heart with his arms and shoots it at yerim first before turning to the audience with a wide grin. his chest is heaving, his limbs are shaky, but he looks at the crowd and at his teammates and feels like his heart is about to burst. they put their everything into this stage—it’s truly a product of their collective efforts—and he hopes people will appreciate that.

as they come off the stage, he sinks to a crouch and covers his face with his hands. “i can’t believe i called myself ‘bananappa’ on national television,” sungwoon groans. hindsight’s always twenty-twenty, but he can say that’s about the only regret he has. sighing, he straightens up and gives his team a smile. “i had a whole sappy speech prepared for you guys, but i don’t want to get into it, so i’ll just say this: no matter what happens tonight, i’m proud of our performance and of you all.” swallowing past the lump in his throat, he looks out at their faces and really hopes they make it. “we killed it up there, but most importantly, we made that stage ourselves and i think that’s pretty awesome.”

the mgas are still a competition at the end of the day, but sungwoon would like to think he made some friends this week—and that team fresh n’ fruity will live on in their hearts for a while.

#rkmga4 #rkmga4new #rkmg #jinsoulrk #rkyxrim #( c: solo )#( i don't even want to check the word count nope )#( this is long and rambly and all kinds of awful so i'm sorry in advance! )

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animeandbookfanatic-blog · 7 years ago

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Hidden: Chapter 1

Summary

Viola Silva always believed she was just like everyone else, until she learns of the secret her family has kept from her since her birth. One day, she's suddenly snatched from the world she's known her whole life and thrown into a completely different one. Will Viola be able to handle magic, monsters, things beyond belief, and the danger that follows?

Chapter One

“Come on girls! You can do it, almost there!” the coach called, timer and clipboard in hand. Coach Sims was as driven as any track and field coach, insisting that they run the mile as a team after every practice to give them the team spirit they lacked.

The two girls at the front of the pack proved just how much team spirit the girls track team lacked. Running side by side, elbows jabbing into rib cages as they tried to shove each other out of the way. The two tumbled at the finish line, rolling clumsily as the runners behind leapt over them in order not to trample the girls.

Viola got to her feet first, fuming, and turned on her rival, “What do you think you were doing?? You cheated!”

The other girl, a tall blonde with brown eyes, got to her feet and glared at her, “I cheated?? You cheated first!”

“Viola, Chloe, you both cheated, now go home. Practice is over for today,” Coach Sims shouted at the girls.

Viola smiled and ran across the field to get her bag, Chloe following behind her. She threw herself on the ground to change out of her track spikes, “Wanna come to my place?” Viola asked.

She shook her head, “No, I can’t today, I’ve got to study. I can walk halfway with you though.” She offered a hand to her.

“That’s too bad, my brother is coming for a visit this weekend.” She slapped her hand into Chloe’s and hauled herself off the ground.

“How long has it been since he’s been home??”

Viola thought for a moment. Cedar was always busy with something and was hardly ever home, only showing up for holidays lately, “About six months, I think?”

Chloe tapped her chin, “So I wonder what keeps him away so much? Does he have a secret family somewhere else?? Maybe something your parents wouldn’t approve of?”

She wrinkled her nose, “I doubt that, he’s a teacher, nothing scandalous about that.”

The girls walked together until they came to the fork that split the roads to each of their houses. Viola waved to her friend and track team rival before jogging down the block toward her house.

Not only being her rival at track, Chloe had been Viola’s closest and only true friend since the two of them were in kindergarten together. Hitting it off was a given, since the girls were both competitive and imaginative, it helped that they were interested in the same type of books. Anything otherworldly seemed to draw the two of them in; as children, both girls enjoyed exploring the forest around their homes, searching for fairies and pixies and anything else from their dreams.

Once at her house, Viola noticed a familiar face watching her from the trees. A red fox stood watching her approach. She was shy but she always poked her head out to greet Viola when she returned home.

She quickly checked the house to be sure her parents hadn’t seen her furry visitor. Their cars weren’t in the drive meaning they were either picking her brother up, or still at work.

With a grin, she ran inside and heated up some leftover chicken from the night before. Then she took the food outside and placed it at the edge of the yard. She didn’t know what foxes ate but this one never seemed to have any complaints about the leftovers Viola gave her every now and again.

She sat on the ground about twenty feet away from the fox so she wouldn’t spook her. Her mother’s cat, Sphinx, sauntered over beside her and plopped down lazily beside Viola, staring at visitor.

Viola sighed and stroked the large sandy cat’s head, “Be nice, Sphinxy,” she warned.

The cat only responded with a yawn and began purring as she stretched out beside her on the dead leaves of autumn.

She watched as the fox slowly crept up to the plate of chicken, her yellow eyes never leaving Viola and Sphinx. Once she was close enough to snatch the chicken and run like she normally did, she just stood staring at Viola instead, foregoing her meal for the time being.

Suddenly, she stepped over the plate, until she was slowly approaching her, one tentative step at a time. Her eyes never left Viola’s, as if she were trying to tell her something.

Sphinx sat up enough to watch the fox, her tail flickered a bit but she just yawned and closed her eyes lazily. Viola wondered if she should run. What if she meant to harm her? She didn’t think she was a threat to either her or Sphinx, though she wasn’t sure why.

Viola slowly, and carefully held her hand out to the red canine. When she was close enough, the fox sniffed the tips of her fingers before hesitantly bowing her head, the way Sphinx did when she was allowing someone to touch her.

She stared at her for a moment but as soon as the tips of her fingers touched the soft red fur, a car door slammed and the fox bolted back into the forest, only stopping long enough to snatch up her meal.

Sphinx stared up at Viola for a moment before yawning again and getting to her feet. She padded to the back door, pausing to look back at Viola as if waiting for her to follow.

Viola sighed, disappointed that her furry friend ran and still reeling from the experience. Maybe the fox trusted her because she fed her occasionally. She hoped she’d see her again soon.

She got to her feet and trudged to the door, opening it for the cat and then following her inside after brushing the crunched up leaves from the both of them.

“Mom? Dad? Vi? Anyone home?”

Viola stretched, “I’m home, Cedar. Mom and Dad haven’t gotten back yet.” She grabbed an apple from the fridge before hopping up on the counter.

Cedar poked his head into the kitchen and grinned at her, “Hey little sis, were you just outside?” His brown hair hanging in his eyes.

She nodded, “Yeah, how’d you know?”

He pointed at her shirt, “There’s a leaf dangling from your t-shirt.”

She glanced down and quickly brushed it off, “Anyway, how’s work?? Anything interesting happen while you were gone? I want to hear all about it!”

“I’m just a teacher, what do you expect to happen?”

She shrugged, “I don’t know? Runaway students, fights that you have to break up, mouthy kids, pranks? The school blew up? Anything?”

He shook his head as he set his bags down, “All my students are angels compared to you, Viola.” He ruffled her hair, “Go get cleaned up, I’m taking you out to dinner tonight.”

“What about Mom and Dad?”

“They’re not here, besides, it’s been a long time since I’ve treated my little sister to dinner. Now, go change. You’re all sweaty and gross,” he teased, gently shoving her off the counter and toward the hallway.

Viola laughed as she headed up the stairs, “Your personality is getting worse ``every time I see you--.”

~~~

Viola sipped her drink, “So what have you been up to all this time?”

Cedar shrugged, slathering cinnamon butter on his fourth roll before taking a bite from it, “Not much, really. I told you, I’m just a teacher.”

“Well, you’ve been up to something if you’ve been too busy to call.”

He gave her an impatient look, “I’ve been busy, that’s all.”

“With a girlfriend?” she asked, with a raised eyebrow. “Afraid to introduce her to mom and dad or something?”

“No girlfriend, Viola.” He sighed, “I didn’t bring you here for an interrogation.”

She frowned at him and shrugged. “Fine,” she said as she took a bite from her buttered roll.

“Do you?” he asked suddenly.

She glanced up at him, “Do I have a girlfriend? Nope, but I have loads of boyfriends.”

Cedar blanched and shook his head, “I’m just going to pray that that was a joke. I can’t handle you dating.” He sighed, “Anyway, how’s school going for you? Track?”

Viola shrugged, “It’s the usual, I guess? Track is more fun than actual school and I’m keeping my grades up.”

“Oh, so nothing interesting? Nothing cool?” he asked in a mocking tone, grinning at her.

She kicked him under the table, “Hey, I have more of a life than you do, all you do is teach!” she protested.

Cedar winced, laughing, “Oh, what else do you do besides run and study?”

She thought for a moment, “I read and I hang out with Chloe and um… Oh! I have a fox that follows me around!”

He looked up from the roll in his hand, knife pausing mid-cut, “A fox follows you around?”

“Yeah, but I feed her sometimes so I think she just associates me with a free meal,” Viola said shrugging her shoulders.“What of it?”

He shook his head, “It’s just weird. How long has it been following you?”

“Just a couple months now. It’s not exactly following me but watching me from the forest.” Viola watched him, “What’s this all about anyway?” It wasn’t like him to ask her so many questions on something so innocent. Her parents would tell her not to feed wild animals but Cedar usually understood these things, she’d even caught him feeding a falcon once when he a kid.

Cedar shook his head, “Nothing, it’s fine.” He smiled and then glanced around the restaurant.

Viola followed his gaze, the place was the same as it had always been, bright as sunlight filtered in through the huge windows onto perfectly polished wooden tables, the carpet's busy but nice pattern surprisingly free from signs of the traffic of years, each table set with a tiny metal rack of shakers, holding tri-fold laminated menus. She remembered coloring little pictures on them before they were laminated--probably why they were laminated in the first place. Actually, she wondered if there were still any with her little smileys or her name scrawled across it, or even the little crayon doodles of what she thought of her brother when he stole her fries floating around the restaurant.

“I wonder how this place has never changed?” Cedar asked suddenly.

She looked up at him, “What do you mean?”

“They’ve always managed to have the place the exact way it looked when it opened when we were kids. Except for maybe a few changes.”

Viola shrugged as she looked up at him. She could tell he was just trying to change the subject and that something else was on his mind, he was trying to be too nonchalant. She’d learn to tell that his normally bright blue eyes were more gray when he was worried or concerned about something.

Usually she envied her brother’s eyes and hair. He’d inherited their father’s brown hair and mother’s blue eyes while she got their mother’s red hair and the green eyes of their father. The red hair made her stand out in a crowd. She felt like she was picked out of a crowd at school, in fact that was how her friends found her.

“So what brings you home so suddenly? You usually only come home for holidays and stuff like that? Is something going on?” She asked as she bit the end of a fry.

He eyed her for a moment, “I’m just here to get mom and dad’s help on something.”

“Like money or something?”

He shook his head, “No, someone suggested that I should check some things here. I thought I’d talk to mom and dad about it first, though.”

“Some things? Like me? Who told you to check on me, Cedar?” she said, frowning at him.

“Just a little birdie, don’t be so upset, Vi,” he said with a laugh.

She shook her head, “Mom and Dad worry too much, I haven’t done anything--I think.”

He laughed again, “No, but I don’t think I see you often enough. I’m thinking maybe we should spend some more time together. Brother sister bonding, you know?” he asked as the check was brought to the table.

“But you’re always across the country, how could we do that?”

“We’ll cram as much as we can into the short time that I’m here for then!” He looked at her, “When do you go back to school?”

#Hidden #Story #CL.Howard #Fiction #chapter 1

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noahxsweetwine · 7 years ago

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mistletoe

(no one sent this prompt I just wrote it bc I’m igyts trash. Also, I’m not a writer so this is probably bad asfflkajskl)

Jude Age 14

I hate mistletoe.

Given my trademark infatuation with the superstitious, most assume mistletoe is one of my good omens. In fact, Grandma Sweetwine’s Bible makes no mention of the spiky sprig, so I am left to turn to traditional ancient lore to find meaning in it.

The Druids believed mistletoe was a magical cure for every ailment. On the eve of their new year, they gathered it from oak trees, careful to not let it touch the ground. Then they hung it over their doorways and made it into drinks to take advantage of its fortuitous properties.

Mistletoe is actually poisonous. What’s more, it’s parasitic. It invades the soil around another plant’s roots and seeps the life out of it in order to live. The Druids were trying to cure one poison with another.

The more well-known connotation seems ridiculous to me. It’s as if we ignore the obvious danger of the plant for its seemingly harmless and beautiful appearance. (Better not walk under the mistletoe unless you want to smooch someone! What a joke.) Even if I did, the boycott is under full effect. They say if a woman is not kissed under the mistletoe at all during the season, she is destined to stay single for a year. That’s absolutely fine with me.

Some well-intentioned (or possibly mischievously-intentioned) CSA students thought it was a great idea to line the halls with the offending parasite. I’ve managed to mostly avoid it, but I have to check before I walk through doorways. (This isn’t too much extra effort: doorways are an auspicious liminal space anyway, so I’ve always been careful. Depending on who you ask, walking through an entryway backwards can be good or bad luck. Though, most things are either good luck or bad luck depending on who you ask.)

Once, though, I was in a rush to get to Anatomy (the science requirement for CSA students - it’s meant to be more tailored towards aspiring artists. I like it better than traditional science classes, but they still haven’t taught me what I really want to know. How can your twin brother’s beautiful brain suddenly stop communicating with his body? Why does my heart still feel pain when I’m hurt if emotions are controlled by the mind? What happens to the human body when it’s run through with a car?) In my haste, I didn’t look up before entering, and ended up nearly colliding with Caleb Cartwright (art-is-truth, I-have-no-filter Caleb Cartwright). I only dropped my pencil, but when I bent down to pick it up, there was snickering from within the classroom.

“Mistletoe,” one boy with purple hair pointed out. He looked immensely pleased with himself, despite the fact that he had spinach stuck in his teeth. “Wouldn’t want to defy tradition, would you, CJ?”

I gritted my teeth. In fact, I did not subscribe to every superstition out there, I wanted to say. I borrowed from what I saw fit, but Grandma Sweetwine’s Bible was my only obligation. Instead of saying anything, however, I pushed past Caleb, who looked like he couldn’t care less, honestly.

“No offense,” started Randy Brown. “But you look red as a tomato, CJ.”

I probably did. I willed my body to cease its vasodilation (a word I learned in Anatomy. See, education is not wasted on me.) The CSA kids aren’t nearly as malicious as those at my old school, but they often don’t have the tact (or the desire, maybe) to keep themselves from saying whatever came to mind. I wondered how Noah was surviving at the normal high school.

The bell rang, and I took my usual seat next to Fish. (Most CSA teachers changed the seating arrangements regularly to “promote evolving artistic collaboration,” but Anatomy was different because it involved lab partners.) Fish was staring intently at a Rubik’s cube she was holding in her hand. I wondered when she had gotten it, as I’d never seen her with it before.

I snap out of the memory. The mistletoe has started disappearing over the past few weeks, but I keep up my constant vigilance. I spot a sprig laying on the door frame leading to the art wing.

They say if mistletoe is allowed to touch the ground, disaster is sure to follow.

I flick the mistletoe off the door frame. I’m Calamity Jude, after all. Disaster seems to follow me anyway.

Jude Age 16

Maybe the Druids were right.

I keep finding bits of mistletoe in the hood of my jacket. Maybe it’s the work of my fellow CSA students, but I can’t imagine what reasons they would have for that and I doubt they would keep up the prank for five days in a row. More likely, it’s one (or both) of my matriarchal specters who is responsible. If it was meant to frustrate me, it’s probably Mom. If it’s supposed to...encourage me, or get me in the “holiday spirit,” it’s probably Grandma.

The French called mistletoe the “specter’s wand” and thought that its holder would have the power to see and communicate with ghosts. (I’ve never needed help with that.)

Regardless of the planter’s intention, the mistletoe has brought me good luck for once. Or that’s the way it appears.

Guillermo has agreed to mentor me, and English Guy (whose name is OSCORE!) is...certainly something. I keep having to remind myself of the boycott. Yesterday he tried to return the orange to me, telling me that “satsumas” are traditionally given as gifts around Christmastime in his home country.

My mind keeps drifting back to my last class before break: Thematic and Symbolic Art History. The lesson of the day was about, of all things, mistletoe. Or, at least, it was mistletoe-inspired. We learned the history and controversy surrounding works depicting the act of kissing. As in, The Kiss. All three versions: Klimt, Brancusi, Rodin. I wish Guillermo’s works had been included, now.

Guillermo is introducing me to his methods of teaching. I thought Oscar’s modeling would be a one-time thing, but apparently I need a lot of practice in portraiture if I’m going to ever sculpt my mother. I’ve drawn Oscar a lot now. His face is practically seared into the back of my mind. (Does it violate the boycott if I’m thankful his face is so nice to look at?)

Some ancient peoples believed that mistletoe had the power to open all locks. (Do hearts count as locks?)

Am I stupid to dream?

Jude Age 18

I’ve warmed to the mistletoe idea over the years.

It might have something to do with the fact that Noah is currently enthusiastically hanging mistletoe around the houseboat. Like the boat’s name, his sudden interest in the superstition, statistically my area of expertise, is a mystery. (Or maybe not: he only started decorating after Dad and I extracted a promise from him that the kissing rule would not be under effect. I doubt he’ll tell that to Brian, however, when he comes back from vacation tomorrow.) The anniversary of Mom’s death seems to loom less ominously than in previous years.

My wary appreciation, however, doesn’t entirely stem from my brother’s antics.

Christmas isn’t really a big thing in the Sweetwine family. When we were little, Noah and I made sandmen instead of snowmen, and our gingerbread houses were definitely not indicators of our level of artistic potential (at least, I hope not). But now the only tradition we have is ordering pizza and staying inside to watch movies, which happens year-round (especially the pizza part when Noah has anything to say about it).

I can appreciate the sentiment of the holiday, though. Renewal. Gratitude. Family.

Love.

I’m sick of losing soulmates. I’ve lost too many, especially in winter. Grandma. Mom (and Dad, for a while, around the same time). Zephyr.

At first, I thought the best way to heal was to cut out all possibility of love in my life. It seemed to be working for Noah. Hence, the boycott.

That went out the window as soon as I met Oscar and Guillermo. “I’m not okay,” Guillermo had said. “I’m not okay either,” I wanted to reply.

When I became Guillermo’s student, I felt like I was healing, through art and through Oscar. But over time, I realized Oscar had his own problems and we tended to amplify one another’s issues rather than resolve them. Being reciprocally “not okay” wasn’t an automatic path to a relationship. The inevitable breakup was mutual (if we were ever even in a relationship). It was nowhere close to being as messy as it could have been.

The whole Oscar thing should have made me more bitter about love. But it was more of a learning experience, really. A person can’t fix you. You can’t fix someone else. And too much of anything can kill you, as my toxicologist father often points out.

Mistletoe is the same way. It’s a parasitic species, yeah, and that shouldn’t be overlooked. Too much, and it seeps the life out of the forest. But in the right amounts, it has its place.

There was Zephyr. There was Oscar. There will be other chances. But for now, I’m content to have all ten fingers to draw and paint and sculpt with, a father and a brother to depend on in this rocking boat of a family, and the resolution to stop avoiding mistletoe as I walk through doorways.

When I think of mistletoe (and when I think of many things), Grandma Sweetwine’s words come to me:

Quick, make a wish. Take a (second or third or fourth) chance. Remake the world.

(Not confident I got the timeline right but just go with it. I know NoahandJude’s birthday is a bit before winter break, Jude met Oscar and Guillermo during winter break, and Diana died during a winter break....merry christmas/happy holidays!!)

(source for the lore)

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aleatoryalarmalligator · 7 years ago

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Life Story Part 57

The #2 Beatles cover band came into Lewiston. Opening for them, was the #1 Elvis Impersonator. My father decided we should go as a family. I'll admit it was entertaining, though I often forget to mention it when asked about the shows I've been to as it didn't mean that much to me. I think some of the more drunk members of the audience were able to momentarily convince themselves that it was the real Elvis opening for the real Beatles. They hollered and danced. It was never really hit me that hard, though, in full garb the Elvis impersonator had his moments. They were obviously practiced musicians – but I couldn't help but to think about the contest that must be held for Elvis impersonators and Beatles impersonators. It seemed kind of silly to dedicate your life to playing someone else's music. You would have to be so passionate about that person. I remember looking at Allison – who was not quite a preteen but not quite a little girl anymore either, and noticing her clapping her hands and singing ecstatically. I count her as one of those people who was able to convince herself that the Beatles were really playing. Allison was a mad fan of the Beatles.

David was having more and more anger issues, throwing more and more fits. Becoming more violent. Maria left again to live in Juliaetta with Earl, and for awhile by the end of my year up in Moscow, Allison and David were left to their own devices at the house while my father was at work and I was in school. If you discount the possibility of a serial killer noticing two unsupervised children alone (it was at this time that serial killer Joseph Duncan III had actually kidnapped a boy and a girl about a county up from us), things might have been fine – if David wasn't becoming the way he was. I sincerely wish David had been raised differently. Something in him had snapped. Given there was nobody to stop him, he became violent and frightening to Allison. He was pushing himself to do bad things. He was like me, but worse. I wish I had never had the influence on him that I had had. I think he was depressed, but there was more to it than this. He was pushing the very limits of what he could get away with – and it was going farther than anything I had ever done. He ended up chasing Allison with a knife, screaming that he was going to stab her to death. Allison ran barefoot for two miles to get away from him to save her life, as he screamed and yelled psychotically down the street with the knife in hand.

I hadn't heard about all this stuff going down. I had been completely submerged in my own psychology and studies. But when I heard about it, it upset me. It was rather shocking. He was only nine years old. David needed help. Allison didn't need to be around this or to live in fear everyday after school. Something was very wrong with this whole picture. I knew something drastic needed to happen. This was not normal kid stuff. I knew David to be sincere in this way. He wasn't the type of kid who was aloof or pulled pranks. He was an all in or all out type of person. And I knew him to be a very sympathetic, and abnormally gracious human being most of the time. So for him to be chasing Allison with a knife, he must have really been feeling it. He must have been losing his mind.

Looking for constructive advice, I talked to Jenni about it. There of course wasn't much anyone could do though. I didn't want to, but I decided to take my dad aside one evening and try to explain the situation to him. I knew this would be a challenge, since to question David's behavior, was, by extension, questioning my father's own behavior. David was in many ways mirroring my father's rage and violence towards me. Both Allison and David had grown up watching it. They internalized it. And David also felt inferior as the youngest – I in particular made him feel powerless. I had been a mean babysitter. Never did I feel compelled to stab anyone to death, but I had been psychologically damaging. It wasn't good for me to be forced to babysit them like I did, but it might have been worse for Allison and David. David was attempting to gain the control he felt he needed. My mom's coddling him made him weak and expect more. He was becoming a disaster.

At first, my dad kind of understood what I was saying, but then he brushed it off with 'boys will be boys'. I tried to explain to him that while boys might be a little rowdy or less inclined to brush their hair, it was absolutely not normal for a boy to chase his sister with a knife screaming psychotically to the end of town. David's fits to where he would cry and scream till he couldn't breath weren't normal – and he had been doing that for years. He felt horrible and he needed help. This was a stage of his development where his mind was wiring who he would be for the rest of his life. I was worried. I felt that my father's neglect in this area was incredibly unfair to David and selfish. Our father had always ignored anything that was going on that was unpleasant – and he had given David his name. David in his eyes was sort of his prodigy. So by saying anything negative about David, my father felt I was insulting him personally.

He sort of blew the whole thing off, and then told me that he knew Allison could be manipulative. My father was big on this 'manipulative female' thing – always has been. He felt that men were honest and simple, and women were knifing and complex. In his pseudosciency way, he reasoned that we women were too weak to fight with our fists, so we played mind games – it was programmed in our nature to torture men, be it our brothers or our significant others. He didn't think men were capable of those mind games in any way shape or form. He absolutely didn't believe men could wrap their minds around being manipulative or emotionally abusive as he felt men could only do what was natural to them, and he felt that half the time, when men do things wrong it was because a woman had manipulated him or pushed him psychologically to do it. Though my father was not religious, he definitely blamed Eve for man's mistakes like some weird culty Abrahamic religious leader. It was infuriating, but he essentially blamed Allison for David's behavior. He was close to blaming me simply for being the messenger and telling him something he didn't want to hear. Him and David were male and in some way infallible. Allison and I were women, and we had to take it. That was the low key message. And nothing further got said. I had this sick feeling in my chest, and it just seemed to sit there.

In school, I just kind of got quiet. I felt powerless and uncertain of my own future. I tried to talk about the band Sarah and I were going to start that coming year with Sarah, but she didn't seem that into it. I threw myself more and more into books. I picked up a copy of 1984 by George Orwell. I read it in three parts. I remember reading the last one hundred pages or so on Sarah's couch. It was one in the morning, and Sarah was talking on the phone with Alex. I think it was a bit earlier in Georgia, or later. I don't know the time difference, but they talked to one another at times that were limited given the time aspect of it. She spent most nights talking to Alex on the phone these days. I remember reading all of 1984 and it blew my mind. I felt sick for days. I had never thought of a system as something that could never change. That was ultimately what made me the sickest. The book was extremely psychological. It wasn't some grand narrative of an evil king that gets overthrown. In the end, Winston lost and Big Brother won. I felt panicked, and I wondered if there were elements of modern society that were just like 1984 in their self perpetuating cycle of oppression. I could hear Sarah on the phone joking with Alex. I felt a million years away from it all.

At other times, I would just watch documentaries on baboons that were always playing on Public Television. Baboons seemed at times, more like little werewolves the way they tore down small gazelle like deer, the way they viciously ripped each other to shreds for dominance. Even though human beings seemed very civil, were we really? Were we as a species more or less just more complex violent apes? Between these baboon documentaries and reading 1984, my faith in humanity seemed to flow out of me, and I didn't have any way to explain it. In a way, it was humbling I guess. I no longer saw the world with myself as the center. I kind of understood that I was going to die someday, in some manner, regardless if I lived a full life of success, or if I died a nobody. People had been doing it for thousands of years, and really, who was I to proclaim my life so special? My goals stopped mattering to me as much as they had. I was not as excited about my own reflection. But I was still very ticked off. I could no longer be apathetic about the news. I was infuriated with the Bush administration. I saw human nature as primarily selfish, and yet there was something in me that said that it didn't have to be this way, that somehow there was something to be said about the human spirit, and maybe there was something greater – but I was still losing faith somehow. I was frustrated by my own inability to really communicate with people in person. I felt like I had gotten so angry, and held it in so long that did what stars do when they become black holes. So what I felt in me was this incredible void. It made my skin feel tingly, it made me feel sort of euphoric and afraid at the same time. It was like an energy I had no way to channel. And I have been this way ever since.

I also read A Handmaid's Tale, which, though it didn't make as much of an impact on me as 1984 had, was full of a million small ideas about gender, power, tradition, and mortality that were very interesting that built up to something that made me reevaluate the world around me. It was the kind of book I pondered about for many years. When they made a television show of it last year, I was all over it, and I was not disappointed.

I felt a little confused about conspiracy theories at this point. I guess when I had at first taken to believing in anything from the Lochness Monster to your everyday ring wearing freemason being some kind of overlord, I wanted to believe things, and so I had. It brought meaning in my life. Now, with this newly found sense that any belief I held had to be in some way justified and backed by evidence, I went back into looking for conspiracies with a lot of skepticism. But I wasn't really disappointed. Oligarchs exist. The world is rapidly changing behind the scenes. Excuses for wars are invented, corruption isn't a conspiracy theory when it comes to how our government operates with corporations. Our news media is controlled by very few. JFK's assassination was very fishy, so was Martin Luther King's. There are very eerie unexplainable crafts that do fly in impossible ways, that have been recorded and verified by government agencies and top level government people.

Not to mention that a lot of things the government or people of power don't want you to see isn't even exactly a secret. You could read all day and get very well documented well understood shadowy information about the backstory behind a lot of things that pertain to everyone that will make you feel very uneasy about the world we live in. You can listen to theoretical physicists or neuroscientists and get a very trippy reality check. It's out there. And in terms of evil conspiracies, a good portion of the time, things get leaked, or simply don't get reported, or get reported at the same time something more colorful is being reported on so that people don't look the opposite direction. If you care to, and you are aware enough, it's not that hard to find it, especially with the internet, if you are willing to put in the research and get the verification by sound sources. They just hope people don't go looking for it. I think more is done to keep people distracted, but even that sometimes backfires. I believe I was wrong in thinking, or hoping for some major plotline about who runs the world and it's money, mostly because it was meant to back my own ego, and it was based on zero evidence. But that isn't to say that there aren't all manner of shady situations going on.

I think this might have been why I got very intrigued by the MK Ultra program and such. This got me to reading about operation paperclip, and how the United States brought Nazi's into the United States. Telling my father about it one day, he confirmed it and explained to me that he had first hand met one of these Nazi scientists back in the 60's or 70's. Many of these Nazi's were secretly brought to north Idaho specifically because it was unpopulated, unseemly, and mostly white demographically. This one Nazi fellow was actually paid by the company that ended up being ATK – where my father worked, back in it's early beginnings to help with something engineering related. My father didn't know who this man with a German accent was at the time, but he saw my father working (this was after my father had stopped being a hippie), and he came up and praised him and told him something about him being an ideal example of a superior man with good work ethic. Later it was explained to my father that this guy was a true German Nazi who was secretly brought to the United States, so that statement of him being the ideal white man was actually pretty creepy.

I found that in nursing class, if I hurried up and got ahead, I could spend a good portion of my time just reading online about these weird facts about Nicola Tesla, Aleister Crowley, various experiments, and so forth. I was sitting there quietly reading intently one day. The room was full of kids writing their fiction stories, and the guy next to me got up to use the bathroom. Another guy came over and took his chair. I would have said something, even though I didn't know that guy – I still didn't want him to lose his chair, but I looked at the other fellow who had taken the chair, and I thought surely that kid knew what he was doing. I didn't want to get in a fight with this person over someone else's chair, so I didn't say anything. Sure enough, the guy came back to find his chair was missing. He looked over and saw that this other guy had taken the chair. And from the corner of my eyes, I watched him snap. He began shouting. Instantly, I felt like someone had punched me in the stomach. It physically rattled my entire perceptions for a moment. The other guy nervously gave him his chair back, but guy 1 wasn't happy with this. I was closing my eyes in shock. The next thing I knew, this guy had taken the chair and thrown it against the wall as hard as he could. It came crashing down on my computer and the computer next to mine.

The guy ended up having to go into the office, where I could hear him screaming hysterically. He was the same guy I think I mentioned me sitting next to on the first day when I accidentally didn't swallow my diet pills correctly and exhaled a bunch of dust. He ended up having schizophrenia, and everyday I go up to Moscow, I see him pacing back and forth in the Moscow mall with headphones on. It seems rather sad. He was actually a rather normal person for most of the time I knew him, and he seemed generally very nice. What I remember most about the situation though was just how badly I was affected by violent unpredictable situations like these. Because after that chair came crashing down on me, I was about ready to gag. I couldn't breath right. I couldn't even register what I was seeing. My hands were shaky for hours. I didn't feel right in the head. I was nauseated and jumpy. I guess I was getting to a point where I had had my fill of loud violent angry men. I didn't take it personally that the guy had thrown that chair. I know he didn't intend on upsetting me like that. He was caught in his own rage to the extent where he couldn't even be considered fully responsible, the way I saw it.

There was also an incident that got kind of heated, and rather than scare me, I felt rather inspired by it. So there was this dumb hick in our class. I think his name was Tony or something. He was cousins with a lot of people from Kendrick, and he was pretty excited to ask us if we knew such and such. He was outwardly friendly, but completely ignorant, and what we discovered, a racist. He was sitting in the class before the teacher had come in, and he was talking about something or other when he started calling someone he was talking about the N word. I can honestly confess, I was completely lost in a daydream, but Sarah had heard him say it, and I had heard people say it before when I had been in the Kendrick school. The word made me sick, but I had never had the courage to jump on anyone over it, and instead I generally buried my face in my arms with guilt. When he used that word, this girl named Emily stood up and asked him what he just said. He was shocked, I think everyone was. There was no doubt in her face. He tried to laugh her off, but the look in his eyes, you could tell he was scared.

I don't remember what went down exactly, other than it was awesome. I hadn't realized that sticking up to someone like that was something a person could do. Emily was already really cool to me, and I already admired her. I never spoke with her or about her, but she was actually in a band which I thought was amazing. She was a drummer in a band, she wore skinny jeans, she illustrated children's books. She was very confident, and didn't judge anyone. She was probably the coolest person in that school – possibly one of the cooler people I had ever met who was my own age. And apparently she had no qualms with getting up and taking care of racists in there tracks. She bitch slapped this guy with words until he was shaky and red in the face. She eventually forced him to apologize. It was perfect. I couldn't help but feel my own inadequacies watching this situation unfold. What did I ever do when this kind of thing happened, but duck my head? I kind of wished that I had been more like Emily. She did what everyone needed to do. She didn't care if she made a scene or what people thought about her. If more people were like Emily, the world would be a much better place.

During the end of school, we were taken on a few field trips. The first one was to this art exhibit. It wasn't the original artwork I don't think – or at least most of it wasn't, but there was a gallery exhibit of Lichtenstein's iconic artwork. If you don't know exactly who that is, you should look it up and most likely you would instantly recognize it as the classic comic book format. He basically came up with a way of creating small dots in comic books to create a sense of shading. I wasn't terribly interested in it personally as someone who inspired my art per say, but I still found it rather intriguing and influential.

I remember we also went on a field trip to the local city waste treatment system. It was smelly due to human waste. It was fascinating in this sick sort of way. In each tank, you could see the water being settled and changed – at first being raw sewage. You could see the brown stuff – being turds. Little did I know that I would be doing something sort of related to this for a job years later – though I never dealt with human sewage – rather industrial waste. At another time, we visited this exhibit in Pullman of fossils and bones. There was this spectacular thing where they had this horse's body separated perfectly between glass sheets, so you could see it all stretched out and separated. Anyone who has seen the television show Hannibal may know what I am referring to. It was incredibly interesting. Afterwards, everyone was taken to this creamery in Pullman where they made fresh ice cream. I don't think I ended up getting any ice cream though. I didn't have any money, and I was beginning to feel really uncertain of myself in public situations. I was afraid to go up and buy any ice cream. I felt halfheartedly frustrated at Sarah because she didn't do anything to help me – though in no way was she obligated. Afterwards, I remember being in some building that was several stories up. It was connected to the campus in some way, and I think it might have been related to entertaining a lot of people in some way. There were a lot of seats by these windows that overlooked a large portion of the town. Sarah and I sat up there quietly and looked out. The sky was gray, and it was rainy. There was something extremely pleasant about this little space. Sometimes I still dream about being up in that building looking out.

It was getting to be spring again, and Sarah and I were leaving to go home one day after school. It was still rather dark out, when out of the bushes came two people I in no way expected. It was Ava, and Melissa, Zack's girlfriend. They were both rather high, and they had a bunch of stuff in their hands. I noticed that the both of them were wearing Zack's clothes. I looked at Sarah, and wondered what the hell this was about. From what Sarah and I gathered, Melissa had broken up with Zack. I guess he had decided to go on a trip to Minnesota without her, and she was fed up with him. I didn't quite understand what the ordeal was about. But the key to this entire situation that hit my like a ton of bricks was that Zack and Melissa were no longer together. This meant that perhaps, just maybe if I connected with him again, we could maybe start again. And I guess Melissa was upset and was choosing to give Zack's stuff away as revenge – which I didn't think was right – but honestly I was so happy to hear it was over between them that I didn't care too much. It was mostly articles of clothing, and a few Pink Floyd cloth posters. Sarah got the one from The Wall, and I was given the image of the two men shaking hands, one of them being on fire.

This situation gave me this new sense of hope. Perhaps this could be a new start for me. A part of me honestly wanted to make something really deep out of this. I mean, why had Melissa and Ava found Sarah and I to tell us of all people? Why did we need to know? We never had had much to do with Zack or Melissa's relationship. Something seemed almost too weird to be true about them just showing up and finding us that evening. Sarah and I were thinking about it a lot over the car ride home, but there didn't feel like much could be said. Somehow, I still had been able to keep it from Sarah that I had feelings for Zack. I swear she must have known. How could she not? I was still weary of talking about it though. I really didn't want anyone to know. I felt like something would be ruined if I said anything.

After Danny kicked my mom out of the his house, she went back to Jim and Connie's place. It felt like old times on the weekend again. I sat around all day and watched UFO shows that investigated the same old incidences. Allison went into her area and watched endless amounts of Steve Irwin wrestling down iguanas. David went into his room and played LOTR games. It was strange being back. Things didn't last that long however. Both Jim and Connie assured my mom that she could stay for as long as she needed to get her life on track, but I ended up overhearing them at two in the morning, Jim was getting angry and drunkenly saying he was going to bust down the door and tell my mom to get her and her fucking rat children to leave. Connie was trying to talk Jim down, saying that while she felt we needed to leave as well, she couldn't bare the thought of my mom struggling out in the street, which was somewhat of an over-exaggeration of what would become of any of us, since we primarily lived with our dad and she had other friends.

I told her, and she got very upset. We stayed one more night. That night, Allison woke up to use the bathroom in a state of drowsiness. I wasn't in the room so I didn't see it happen, rather I heard a lot of commotion and walked in to see what had happened. The lava lamp broke, and the weird stuff inside of the lava lamp got all over the floor. Allison was deeply cut and blood was oozing everywhere. My mom had woken up, and she was shrieking at Allison. I think David had joined in. It made me sick to my stomach, watching the both of them tear into Allison as if she had intentionally broke the lava lamp on the floor. Nobody seemed concerned with the laceration on her leg. I ended up shouting at my mother to leave Allison alone, and ended up calling her a bitch. This escalated into her screaming throughout the house. Jim and Connie weren't home. I hated her so much. She forced Allison to scrub the floor with the stuff all over the carpet while she shouted in Allison's face about how worthless Allison was, as Allison whimpered in pain. She had gotten the weird stuff stuck in her cut. I had to step away I realizing that me getting angry wasn't going to fix things. I had angered her too much and if I even tried to clean it up, she was going to intentionally provoke me and make it impossible for me to do that. She was pissed off at me for having stepped in to defend Allison, and she was intentionally mistreating Allison to piss me off – so as horrendously upset as I was, I knew I had to step away to make things mildly better for Allison. It was three in the fucking morning, and too early for this insanity. Who does this? Honestly, I knew she deserved to be socked in the face, but it would only make things worse for Allison. I had to bite my tongue the best I could.

My mother was still with Danny for whatever reason. It just seemed painful and insulting for her to go along like nothing had happened. We ended up moving back to the Nye's, the very same place we had started when Danny had invited us to live with him. I remember that Easter of that year, Maria showed up with her kids, Roxanne showed up with her kids. It was planned to be some kind of fun Easter egg hunt out by the river. It ended up sort of miserable. Danny was there, and he started insulting my mother over everything. Maria's son Ian, who was about four by this time, was misbehaving and got into some kind of trouble tossing rocks at moving vehicles. Maria ended up getting upset and jealous because she felt that Roxanne was getting more out of Easter than she was. Maria wanted presents for Easter as a full grown adult, and she began freaking out about it. Meanwhile, I just sat there eating the eggs awkwardly in the grass with Allison. David got upset at Allison and then later at Roxanne's first daughter Sagen, and then at the boys. It was just a mess, and clear to me early on that there could be no good outcome for everyone to get together. Nobody enjoyed it. It seemed rather pointless to even try.

I was feeling artistically dead. I had almost given up art entirely by this point. It just didn't seem to come naturally like it used to anymore. I loathed anything I created and I felt like I was doing the same thing over and over again and even though I didn't want to do what I was doing, I couldn't stop. I also didn't know how I felt manga styled art anymore. It didn't affect me as much as it used to. I remembered years before when Katie, Sarah, Ava and I would all sit around the table and draw anime for endless hours. I couldn't do it anymore. It was kind of a pain to realize five years into an artform that I cared very little for it. And even had I still been into anime, I mostly just didn't like my particular style. I didn't feel as though I was doing much with it. I envied Sarah. She just seemed to be able to draw these flowing illustrations – the folds of cloth looked perfect, the skin looked translucent, she could draw feathers. She knew how to somehow draw things on MS paint and make them look pretty decent. My stuff looked flat and phony. I felt stuck.

I was still very upset with Sarah, but I just didn't want to talk about it anymore. I wrote a few angry letters, but I was getting to this place where I was afraid we would stop being friends if I challenged her too much. I didn't want to lose her as a friend. And maybe it was a little selfish. Honestly, for all her problems, she was the sanest person I knew. And we were still close in some ways, but to a degree it just wasn't the same. For about a week around this time, she was starting to look at me nervously when I talked about the 'band we were going to be in, and answer or say things to me in a funny guilty sort of way. I thought about getting mad about it, but I held my tongue. I knew that if I started talking, I was afraid of what I might say and that I might not be able to stop. I didn't want to go through this anymore. Of course, Sarah had her own plans. I should have seen it coming, but somehow I didn't. We were leaving school one evening, and she told me in the car on the way home that she needed to talk to me about something. She seemed hesitant and very nervous – which made me nervous, She told me in this deliberate distant way that Alex was going to visit that summer – which I was completely fine with as of course people can't just date online forever – but she continued on in a hesitant fashion, that at the end of the summer, she was going to go with Alex to live with him and his parents who were moving to Texas. Alex could play piano and guitar, and they were going to start a band together. I was never a part of that. Meaning there would be no band between Sarah and I. Meaning she more or less knew there would be no band or us working together in any way for a few months, but she had been afraid to let me know. Meaning everything I had planned for my future was in pieces. Meaning I would have no friends, and nowhere to run when my father or mother came after me. Nobody to watch movies with or take walks with on Friday evenings. Who was I without Sarah Mae?

I took it as well as I could. At first, I just shrugged it off, and slouched into myself in the passenger seat. Sarah went on sort of defensively – knowing perhaps what this meant for me, stating that at least for once she was being honest with me, and showing some sense of responsibility. It had been tempting for her to simply never let me know, but it wouldn't have been right. I had to agree there I guess. I had to give her credit where small credit was due. She hadn't known for certain the real plans between her and Alex, and she had let me know a week after the plans had been set. I took it calmly at first. I felt sort of numb and was quiet the whole ride home. I think in a strange way, Sarah had wanted me to get upset. I think it would have made her feel less guilty had I instantly lashed out at her. But at this point, what was the use in fighting her? She had made her plans. She had taken initiative, and she had made her own decisions. It was a bitter pill to swallow for me, but in a way it made me feel a little better. The last six months made a whole lot more sense to me then. At least now I knew something. At least she had for once been up front with me. I wasn't shooting at the moon anymore. I had some perspective.

It felt wrong though. It gave me strong message. I really couldn't expect so much from Sarah. Nobody really wanted to be around me. She didn't want to be in a band with me, or fight with me anymore. I was extremely envious that she was going to be in a band that would probably sound better than whatever it was we were going to theoretically create. I didn't even know how to think about it anymore though. The very thought of it made me feel tired and sick inside. I didn't even know if I wanted to quit school anymore. I went home, I curled up in a ball, and I just sort of felt myself sinking. I didn't feel angry. I felt weak, and scared. I remember trying to cry, but not being able to. Instead, it just felt like this large lump in my throat. I was having troubles breathing. This had been my future built up in my head, and having it stripped away from me left me feeling rather empty. I didn't even have enough substance to me to get properly angry.

I think at some point I must have gotten up out of my bed, and walked barefoot outside. Somehow, I ended up sort of waking up walking myself down into the back alleys near the end of town. My feet felt that itchy burn of not being accustomed to being barefoot. My head felt like clay. My eyes were moist and shrunken. I was incredibly confused. Somehow I had blacked out and ended up on the street and I had no idea how. I pushed back the fright and went home. I knew there was no use telling anyone. I didn't think anyone would believe me, and besides, it was kind of personal.

It was around April or May, and a few weeks since Sarah had told me the news. We only had a few more weeks of school. I no longer knew what I wanted to do, if I wanted to drop out or stay. Mike and Jenni, upon hearing the news took some pity on me. Mike seemed more set on making Sarah doubt her decision than he was going after my choices. Sarah would not be swayed though and both Jenni and Mike knew it. I just didn't know. I felt like I had all kind of crow I had to eat if I told anyone I wanted to stay in school. I had put up such a fight, but now it seemed pointless. I wasn't even sure I was going to be able to stay in school. Who would shuffle me up for class each day?

I wasn't going to fight with Sarah anymore. I suppose I had tried to explain to her what her leaving meant to me. It upset her, but I was now noticing that Sarah had a way of turning off what people said to her when it conflicted with what she wanted. And being abusively angry at her for doing this only made it worse. It also seemed like it would be rather selfish of me to push things or expect her to stay at my expense. I had to swallow something very big – something that was killing a part of me to swallow, and try to be happy for her and put my own feelings aside. I was entitled to nothing. Still, I think she was translating this to something she was more accustomed to, which was me being furious. Instead, I either acted robotic, or seemed pitiful and it was confusing. In the midst of our silent mulling of her leaving, we were headed towards home from class school one day. It was a windy day, a bit overcast but not bad. We hadn't driven too far from the school, and we were stopped at an intersection. Absentmindedly, I looked into the clouds in front of us, and I saw this very enormous looming black triangle in the sky. It was mesmerizing and strange in a way that I can't really explain. It moved in a way I had never seen anything in the sky move before. I first noticed it because clouds had cleared around it due to the wind which had exposed it.

I watched it intently for about forty seconds or so. It moved in a line, then took a sudden 90 degree turn back into the clouds. I could see parts of it through the clouds though, and then it seemed to suddenly disappear. The light turned green and we took our turn. I looked at Sarah, and tried to tell her what I had just seen. She looked at me and told me she had seen it too. We went over it and agreed we had seen the same exact thing. And the mechanical perfection of it was hard to explain. The whole time I watched it, I hadn't been scared. I hadn't even registered that I might be seeing a UFO. I had mostly been baffled. It had seemed almost mundane. It was broad daylight. UFO's hadn't exactly been on my thoughts. Also, I didn't even know that UFO's were ever reported as triangles. Normally, I had the impression that they were all either saucers or simply strange lights. It wasn't till I went home and looked it up. Honestly, I would even have been skeptical of my own account, knowing that the human brain can play tricks on itself, but Sarah had seen it too.

I am not going to go out and saw that there were aliens in the cockpit or anything. I have no idea what it was that I saw. I knew that it was enormous. My father, who has flown planes before told me that based on the clouds I was seeing, even at the lowest altitude, the triangle was probably at least 40 feet. The thing was very big – big enough to where I could see that it was made of very dark metal, even above the clouds. Had it been night time, I don't know if I would have trusted what I was seeing, but since I had a second witness, and since it moved very mathematically, deliberately and hastily. It seemed to be able to slow down and speed up in a single second, I had to say that it sounded like many other UFO sightings that I ended up finding online. I guess there is nothing like a UFO popping in your life in the center of a midlife crisis to pull you out of your own life for a second or two and reevaluate everything.

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PART 8 - http://tinyurl.com/ybl37utq

PART 7 - http://tinyurl.com/ybvo283g

PART 6 - http://tinyurl.com/kbc9dwu

PART 5 - http://tinyurl.com/msnz4am

PART 4 - http://tinyurl.com/k9x8esg

PART 3 - http://tinyurl.com/mwp9atx

PART 2 - http://tinyurl.com/lbt6xq2

PART 1 - http://tinyurl.com/l8xbvg8

12 notes · View notes