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jessicafangirl · 4 months ago

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The Goore The Merrier

It's a different world where the dead have returned but humanity is always the same. One night your friend begs you to come with her to a concert at a local club to see a band you've never heard of. And it's there you find out things aren't always what they seem.

Hey Kids! This is a stand alone one-shot to see how this plays out and dip my toes into the Goore. If you like this, please comment so I know that creating a far longer story in this world would be welcome. Also avail on AO3 here

You got used to the smell. Somehow you did. When the world realized the dead were coming back to life it wasn’t pretty. And neither was the smell, at least when it came to some of the really damaged ones. There was only so much you could do when half your brain was exposed or say your ribcage looked like it had gone a few rounds with a weed wacker.

It was chaos for five or six months until a combination of the military and corporations came together to figure out a way to make the living and the undead work. And in the case of some people, actually make the undead work. And that’s how two years after everyone discovered reanimates were real, the dead were an everyday part of the lives of the living. There were other terms for them not nearly as kind. Shamblers, zombies of course, and the very touching corpses.

Needless to say there was outrage among many living workers when companies and business owners realized they could get the cheapest labor ever when it came to the dead. Most of them just needed a place to stay and a supply of blood or meat…the source not really important. When you were a reanimate, you didn’t need to worry about heat or cold. Some of them were always going to be confused or near catatonic, which was sad to see.

The dead didn’t need human brains specifically or human body parts. The virus that was running through them and making them come back to life just needed fuel to keep it going. Of course human was better it was discovered, maybe because it was pure for the system.

You found this all interesting as it played out, after the horror faded and the danger was culled of course. You’d seen enough Romero movies and zombie flicks to know this could have become a world ending event. But leave it to the rich people to figure a way to profit from something like this…even when a person is dead they can’t get away from the need to work for a living…if that was the right phrase.

Of course the workers who lost jobs to the reanimates weren’t happy. Which made things worse somehow for the already dead. Hatred of them spread, even families who should have been happy that their loved one was returned instead ostracized them, hated them. Not everyone came back of course…you had to be infected before you died. But still…you wouldn’t have been sad to see your grandfather again.

The virus was an interesting thing. It seemed to heal its hosts after being activated by death. But some reanimates were just too far gone depending on how they died to be completely fixed or even verbal. Then there were the ones who could pass as normal, still completely human. No one knew they were undead until something tipped them off. Boy did the haters really not like them. Many of these poor reanimates who tried to pass as human and were discovered found a way to final death. Yes, you could kill a reanimate. The tried-and-true method of cutting the head off did it. The brain was needed to keep going and if you took that away, final and total death was the result. The hate mobs would disappear them and no one was the wiser…or if they were they didn’t care. They had already been dead once, right?

Again, you were only shocked at the hatred humanity could have only for a brief time. Then the reality of how even in the face of something awe inspiring as this the dickheads could figure out a new way to be dicks. People never let you down when it came to letting you down.

Your small town was like a microcosm of the world as a whole. Reanimates were a part of the everyday, so were the hate crimes against them. Lucky for you the job you had was one that required people skills and talking. Or more to the point talking and the ability to bullshit your way through dealing with people and their cell phone issues. Call center work wasn’t what you had gone to college for, the couple of years you’d attended. But life happened and so it was a dead-end job, in a dead-in town, with quite a few of the dead that made up your existence.

That day had been a long one. It was a Friday and cell service had gone down for a section of the country. Somehow the callers expected you to singlehandedly restore it. There was a lot of screaming, a lot of cursing, and you had nearly bit your lip in half keeping yourself from screaming back at them. By the end of the day you had a headache and just wanted to crawl into bed.

“Hey girlie!” Your co-worker Patricia called as you grabbed your bag and slung it over your shoulder. “What are your plans for the evening?”

Patricia was one of the few people you liked. She was younger than you but had nearly the same amount of sarcasm as you did, which was a feat. She hid this behind a shock of light blue hair and multiple piercings. She was like a bubbly version of Tank Girl.

“My bed and a TV with as much 70s schlock as I can stand.” You replied. “And a large dose of Excedrin.”

“What if I gave you another option?” Pats sauntered over and blocked your exit from your cubicle. She grabbed up your Funko Pop of Godzilla and started turning it over in her hands.

“I would say I would highly doubt you had the ability to convince me to do anything other than what I just said.” You held out your hand for the pop which she dutifully placed into your palm.

“Look, I need a wingman, and my usual let me down.” She gave you big, dark anime eyes as you placed the king of the monsters back in his spot. “There’s a gig tonight at the Corpse Grinder and I’ve got a date but….you know….I just want back up.”

The Corpse Grinder was the local metal bar known for loudness and some very unusual performances. The name had been in play before the dead returned…you’d think they would have changed it but heck, edgy was in.

“Pats…my head feels like it’s going to explode, and you want me to go to a concert where I may go full Scanners?” You give her a look of disbelief.

“I’ll owe you. Come on…it’ll be fun!” Somehow, she made her eyes bigger.

You sighed heavily. “Fine…but I’m only going because I don’t want you to be taken advantage of…and also you’re taking my shift next Friday.”

Patricia pouted for a half second and then grinned broadly. “Fine, deal.” She hugged you and you patted her back for a moment.

“Who’s playing?” You asked as you both headed out of the building.

“Oh this new group…at least they’ve never played here before. One of those fake undead ones. The Unearthed.” She said excited.

It was a thing these days that musicians, especially the metal and punk scene ones, would play act like they were reanimates. It was edgy of course and was a big fuck you to the establishment which was the way punk had been for decades. You’d not heard of these guys before, not that I could remember. That didn’t mean much though, you didn’t do the live band/bar scene often.

“This is a death metal one isn’t it?” You asked as you emptied out into the parking lot, the sky already turning dark.

Pats nodded happily. “Yeppers, and one of the best. Seriously, you’ll have fun.”

You sighed, pushing your glasses up your nose, the twinge of the headache still dancing behind your eyes. “What time do I meet you there?”

She flashed all of her fingers at you. “Ten is when the shindig starts. So be there like at 930. I’ll get us a close table.”

“Okay…I’ll see you in a few.” You headed to your car and drove home.

After taking four large pink pills and shooting them down with Mountain Dew your headache started going away. Excedrin Tension Headache was a gift from god. The hot shower you took managed to get rid of the rest of it. Now came the fun part…what the hell did you wear to this?

After rummaging around in your small apartment closet you chose a pair of acid wash jeans you’d had managed to keep since your 20s. They were artfully ripped on the knees. You paired it with an Alice Cooper concert shirt you’d also had since your 20s. The shirt was faded to hell, but Alice’s wide eyes were as vivid as ever. Make up was dark eyeshadow and a purple lipstick so deep a shade it coul. ave been black. Silver hoops and your black leather jacket covered in pins was the last piece.

You looked in the mirror and pushed your glasses up your nose, giving your hair one last fluff. This was as good as it got. You fed your beta fish Poe and headed out the door.

You had figured there would be a line just to get in and was betting on Pats to keep her word on the table. Sure enough the line was out the door and part way down the building. You’d actually got there 20 mins earlier than she’d said to. You got behind a group of 20 somethings that had what appeared to be every part that could be pierced pierced animatedly talking about the band that would be playing.

“Dude…Mary’s gonna kill.” The guy with both sides of his head shaved started bouncing up and down in excitement.

“I can’t believe we’re finally seeing them.” The girl with a chain linking her nose ring to her ear said while taking a long draw off her vape pen.

You pull your phone out of your bag while thinking how, if ever there was a chance she’d wind up in a fight, the jewelry choice she’d made was a bad one. One yank and it would be blood, tears, and screaming. Your brain had a habit of going to the dark side often.

You decided to look up the band while waiting. Eventually you found a fan page for them. They had a decent following for being relatively new. They had released a record a few months ago that was getting play on the independent scenes. As you shuffled along, seeing the pierce posse moving forward, you popped in your Airpod and started listening. It was death metal alright, but where a lot of that style didn’t do much for you, Unearthed had something more artistic going on. You could actually understand the lyrics and the lead vocals had a style to them that made the growling demonic tone stand out.

After hearing one song, a ditty about cursed souls burning in hells fire forever for their love that was forbidden, you decided you liked them. You’d moved to the halfway point of getting in when you pulled up a group photo, one of those staged ones for promotions.

The band consisted of four guys, all in tight black jeans. They were all wearing leather jackets that had seen some things, mostly illegal things if you had to guess. Two were blondes, one was bald, and one had dark hair that was styled in a stylish version of a devilock. All of them had various splatters of blood on them, but devilock had it running down his face. His big, green eyes stared out from the picture in a way that was unnerving, even without the blood if it hadn’t been there. All four of them were pale, nearly alabaster white. The skin tone made that blood on his face stand out even more. If this guy wasn’t the lead singer you’d eat your own jacket.

Sure enough and strangely enough you saw on the description that this was the Mary the group in front of you were talking about. Mary Goore. Well that was a choice name. “Huh.” You said aloud. Mary of the demonic growls that somehow were as smooth as dark chocolate. Well Mary, you thought, I hope you are worth the wait here and it’s not all studio magic.

After another few minutes you showed your ID to the guy at the door and paid your cover charge. You were still like three minutes early and you quickly looked around for Pats. You saw her notice you and sure enough she had a small table right near the edge of the stage. This may or may not have been a good idea. You’d seen how the crowds could go at these things before…that table was probably not going to be upright by the end of the concert. Well, it would be an adventure…at least her date was there. Brown hair, piercings too, and a ratty hoodie with a King Diamond t-shirt that had seen better days. Yeah, that tracked with Pats previous dates she’d shown you pics of.

You pointed to the bar and made a drinking motion with your hand, hoping it didn’t look pornographic. Pats returned a thumbs up and pointed to the table where their drinks were sitting. You shot her an OK sign and headed over to get a beer because you had earned it this week. The club itself had a relatively unsticky floor which was a welcome surprise. The air did smell of booze, a little bit of weed, and a little stale smoke. All in all though, it wasn’t bad. The bartender and his team seemed to have a good flow too and the line was moving okay.

You were still going to have a little of a wait, so you went back to your phone glancing up every so often. Eventually you figured this was a sure-fire way to drop your phone and cause an accident as the crowd was growing. You pocketed your phone and took a breath, looking around at the various concert posters and neon signs that covered nearly every inch of wall space in the joint. The band would be going on in fifteen minutes so you hoped the line would get faster.

All of a sudden you heard a loud voice, very obviously drunk, coming your way. “Let’s get this show on the road mother fuckers….wooohooo!” You’d turned towards the sound just in time to be slammed into by said drunken voice’s owner. He looked to be 350 pounds and covered in tattoos, a few of which you didn’t notice were a mix of Aryan brotherhood symbols and sayings.

He’d knocked you off your feet and not in the romantic way, one of his waving hands even hitting your face with enough force to skew your glasses. You didn’t notice that though as you were realizing you were falling to the floor, which while not sticky was probably not the cleanest place to faceplant.

Before you hit the wooden beams something or someone caught you. You let out a humph of air as your arms were gripped by strong hands and your face landed against a leather clad shoulder. The hands stood you back up, holding onto you a moment longer as you steadied yourself. “Thank you…” You started to say, “I’m so sorry…he…” and when you looked up into the face of your rescuer you paused.

Large green eyes with a thin line of black rimming them looked down at you, a dark lock of hair falling over one of them. The blood was missing but his skin was as pale as the picture promised it would be. His cheekbones were just as sharp. He looked at you strangely, one dark brow raised.

“You’re with the band.” You said lamely, still a little shook. Mary Goore was still holding you up, his chilly fingers cold even through the material of your jacket. He gave a barely perceptible nod.

“Uh…thank you again…he sort of barreled into me and I didn’t mean to fall onto you.” You were rambling, part of your brain still trying to figure out the best adjectives to describe the green of his eyes.

You saw those eyes look over to where the large, loud drunk had headed. He was now in a corner with a couple other smaller versions of him, all of them equally inebriated and excited and just as obnoxious. Mary’s gaze was not kind and for a moment you thought you saw the thin, red veins of his eyes flash black. It was only a half a second and you shrugged it off as the lighting and also the fact your glasses were about to fall off your face. You were probably legally blind without them, but yeah, your eyesight sucked so it shouldn’t surprise you.

Mary Goore turned back to you, the glare changing to a look of perusal. His full lips thinned and while one hand stayed grasping your arm, the other raised up and straightened your glasses on your face. His fingertips grazed your cheek, and you nearly shivered at how cold they were. They must have just come in from outside. The faint scent of cigarettes still clung to their skin and the leather of their own jacket.

“Yo, Goore…you want something before you go on?” The voice of the bartender called behind you.

The musician nodded and after one more look at you, released your arm. He then held up two, long thin fingers towards the bartender who nodded. He grabbed two bottles of imported beer and popped the tops off them and placed them on the counter. The tall, thin figure moved through the people like a specter in front of the busy bar. You just stood there in the same spot watching in awe at the graceful movements born of hours in places like this.

You shook your head and turned to just head back to Pats and her date, your drink forgotten. Before you had taken two steps you felt a hand on your shoulder. You turned and Mary held out one of the beers to you with another slight nod. You took the condensation covered bottle, not familiar with the name but not caring at this point. “Thank you again…you didn’t have to.” You sounded like an idiot to yourself but something about this entire interaction felt…surreal.

Mary’s lips pulled up just a bit into the faintest hint of a smile. And something in that look made you smile too. You raised your beer in a toast and lightly touched the glass of Mary’s with a barely perceptible plink. “Here’s to knights in shining leather.” You said. His smile grew enough you saw just a little flash of teeth, seemingly sharp incisors glinting in the neon. Mary then gave of all things, a courtly bow to you.

You laughed. “Have a good show.” You told them and you swore Mary winked at you and then headed off towards the backstage door, taking a long swallow of beer.

You shook your head, taking your own drink of beer. It was good, a bit richer and stronger than the normal Budweiser you would get. You headed back to Patsy, noticing her date was missing. She grinned up at you. “Hey! The shows going to start soon.” She beamed and you noticed she looked a little more glossy eyed than normal.

Sitting down you turned to her, “What happened to your date?” you asked, taking another drink.

She took a drink of her own, something that looked like a green martini. “He actually works with the band, actually for their manager. He’s doing some stuff real quick and then he’ll be back.”

Your eyebrows raised. “So, is this Mr. Right?”

Patsy giggled. “Oh…I don’t know…we’ll have to see how the night winds up won’t we?” She nearly slurred the words.

You didn’t know what to make of how tipsy she already was. Maybe she’d pregamed before the show. You decided to keep an eye on her. “Well I sort of met one of the guys in the band.”

She turned to you, glossy eyes wide. “Really?”

“Yeah, some asshat came in and knocked me over. Mary Goore caught me before I could land in someone’s beer spill.” You were still a little shook by the encounter, not only because of the idiot who knocked you flying and the fact your cheek probably would have a bruise but just those green eyes of Mary Goore’s were…haunting.

Patsy let out a little oooh sound. “Oh honey, are you okay? I’m sorry I didn’t…didn’t see it. Want me to kill the shit for you?”

You doubted Patsy could stand for a length of time, let alone go into battle for your honor. “It’s all good. Let’s just enjoy the show from the safety of this very unrickety table.” You placed a finger on the edge watching it tilt up at the barest pressure.

“Hey, don’t…don’t knock it.” Patsy grabbed her glass and took another swig of the green stuff in it.

It was another couple of minutes before Patsy’s date came back to the table, a little sweaty and out of breath. “Sorry baby…had to make sure some things were set.” He put his arm around Patsy’s shoulders. Then he noticed you. “Uh..hey.”

Patsy quickly introduced you to “Chuck.” You reached over and regretted immediately shaking his clammy hand. You noticed he was jittery and there was an odd colored stain on his King Diamond shirt now…which probably wasn’t the first King Diamond shirt to be covered in something gross but…it looked weirdly like blood in what little light you could see.

The lights in the bar blinked on and off twice and a man in a tattered and patch covered denim vest with a long beard went to stand behind the microphone. His garbled voice spoke to years of smoking and drinking the cheapest whiskey around. “Alright you misfits and monsters….I want you to get up off your asses for the dregs that we dug up just for you. Behold, The Unearthed!”

The lights then dropped off completely and you felt your heart jump for a moment. There was an eerie blue light shining on the stage as four men wheeled out four sperate coffins. Over the speakers there was a haunting organ playing, something straight out of Phantom of the Opera. Once the coffins were placed, the men dressed in all black hurried off the stage…and then the lights cut to black and there was a scream rattling the speakers which suddenly stopped.

Then the sound of a guitar cut through the darkness and the red and green lights lit up the stage where suddenly the band were just…there. At the center was Mary, standing behind a microphone, on his face glinting in the red light was the blood that had been missing before.

He looked like a supernatural creature alright. His cheeks hollow, bones sharp. His skin was as white as chalk and his eyes were now darkened more around the lids and below. His lips were black, the blood dark and dripping over his eye, down his cheek and chin. That shouldn’t have been attractive, it shouldn’t have made you wonder if they used corn syrup in the mix and would it be sweet if you licked it from his jaw. As they started playing the instruments in earnest Mary’s voice blasted over the sound system, a melodious growl straight from a fallen angel in hell.

Even when the crowd, as you knew it would, started creating a pit in front of the stage you couldn’t take your eyes off of Mary. You noticed he didn’t really blink as he was performing. At some points, during solos, he would stare across the crowd, not even looking at them, his long pale fingers massaging music from his guitar that would sound apt for Satan’s throne room…or bordello.

You eventually looked around at the rest of the band, but it was as if you had to physically yank your head away from Mary. They all looked a little strange, but that was the point you supposed. The gimmick. The dead band…it was edgy alright. The blood on Mary’s face was replicated on the other guitarist and bassist…apparently the drummer ate his victims a little cleaner.

You felt Patsy tap your arm. It was too loud to talk but she made a gesture toward Chuck and a very loopy, very suggestive grin. Something made you want to tell her to not leave with the guy…you don’t know why but you really didn’t like him. But then he was pulling her along with him and she was barely standing on her own, leaning on him heavily as he led her away toward the backstage door.

You watched with wary eyes, nibbling your lower lip and gripping your long empty beer bottle.

A new song was starting, and the tone of the music was changing. This was slower, not nearly as hard as the previous music. And while the lyrics were still on brand, dark and gothic, it was like the song you’d listened to waiting to get in, having a touch of the romantic. Mary’s voice went from growling snarl, to a velvet purr that you could feel in your chest. He was gazing down at the ground while he sung, fingers moving with skilled practice along his guitar, the red lights highlighting the demon tattoo that graced his forearm. At some point he looked up and turned right in your direction.

It was surprising and you felt yourself freeze as those green eyes locked with yours. You don’t think he’d looked at anyone directly the whole night but now you felt the weight of that gaze trapping you in your seat as his voice reached right through your ribcage. He didn’t blink once…you know because you felt the fact you weren’t either. As the chorus broke through the speakers about serving his heart on a platter to the one that would give him forever you nearly fell out of the chair as he turned away, letting you free of his stare and then starting a solo on his guitar.

You had to shake your head clear, finally blinking and grasping onto the rickety table for something solid. The show was over after another two songs, one of which was the encore. Patsy had still not returned from the back stage and there was no sign of her date. The Unearthed disappeared nearly as quickly as they had appeared, and two techs were breaking down the stage set up.

You didn’t know what to do but you had a feeling that something was very wrong. After a few more minutes of waiting you wandered outside the bar, looking around in case you had missed your friend walking outside. There was no sign, just some smokers. You recognized Patsy’s car in the lot, the deathtrap she called it, an old Fiero painted neon green. You couldn’t miss it. Unless she had left in Chuck’s car she was still there.

You chewed on your thumb nail, nerves roiling along with your stomach. The bar was going to close soon. Taking a deep breath you headed towards the alley that ran along the side of the building. The scent of garbage and old booze hit you hard along with smells you didn’t want to put a name to. There was a large truck the size of a small UHaul parked next to what looked like a side entrance. You quickly moved to the side door and hoped it was unlocked. Luckily, some lazy bum had decided to plant a piece of cardboard in the door so it couldn’t close completely.

You peered inside and didn’t see anyone walking around, so you carefully slipped in and placed the block back where it had been. The backstage area was dimly lit. The scent of tobacco and weed was strong back here along with a slight tang of booze. It was better than the alley you thought. You just needed to find Patsy and get the hell out of here, or at least find out where she was and if she was okay.

Moving cautiously through the backstage you realized the place was bigger than you originally thought. It was almost TARDIS like, it just kept going, bigger on the inside. This was no doubt due to the amazing amount of anxiety pumping through your system but still…

Hearing voices you ducked into a doorway while two men walked by you in the hall. One of them was the guy who had announced the band, the other you didn’t recognize. He was rail thin with thinning hair and a suit that had seen its glory days in the 80s no doubt. You caught a bit of their conversation, something about payment and maybe extending the run. It faded away as you watched them walk further down the hallway, swallowed up by the shadows. You took a couple deep breaths to calm your heart down and then headed in the direction they had come.

You found a door marked green room, with the green marked out and a crudely drawn PARTYY written in. It was closed. You pressed your ear to the door and, oddly, didn’t hear anything. You would have expected some sort of drinking or said partying. But maybe Patsy was inside or someone who knew where she was was in there. There was also the possibility of Mary Goore, a traitorous voice said in your head. You shook that away. You were here on a mission to find your friend, not the pale rock god you’d just watched.

The door was stuck but you pushed harder and it popped open for you. You glanced around and then walked in, surprised again that no one made a sound at the door opening. The room was dimly lit. Again, it was bigger than expected. Maybe it could hold a party actually, but as you stepped in the few couches inside were shoved up against one wall, and running along the other were leaning the coffins from the start of the show.

Your eyes narrowed to the contraption that sat on the coffee table in front of the coffins. It was plugged into the wall, a strange humming coming from it. There were tubes, four of them, running from the machine into each of the coffins through a small hole in the left sides. What the fuck was this?

Cautiously you stepped closer and looked at the clear container that made up the center of the machine. Your lips parted in surprise. That…that was blood. The thick, ruby red liquid was unmistakable. This couldn’t be happening…this couldn’t be real. But the dead lived, you’d seen them. But what was this?? There was no way…

You turned to the coffins and peered at them closer. Each had an engraved letter on the front in a small silver plaque with a very intricate skull design surrounding it. You saw the one with the M in gothic script. Another voice in your head told you not to do what you were about to do. It really yelled at you that this was stupid, and you needed to leave. But morbid curiosity and the desire for answers were winning out. You needed to find Patsy.

Steeling your shoulders, you wrapped your trembling fingers around the caskets lid and pulled it open, slowly. When it was opened you peered around and gasped. There, eyes closed and as still as a corpse would be, was Mary Goore. The tube ended in a needle that was going into his pale arm. His dark lashes lay against his pale cheeks, the right side of his face still wearing the blood he’d had on stage. He wasn’t moving at all.

Your lips were parted in shock. What the fuck was going on? Was the blood…going in or coming out? You glanced down at his arm then back at his face. You turned and looked at the machine then back at the singer. The shaking in your fingers grew worse but you had to know. So you lifted your right hand and pressed it against the thin, faded material of the Corroded Coffin shirt he was wearing, right where his heart should be. There was no beat, or if there was, it was so faint you couldn’t even feel it. His skin was cold through the worn cotton, nearly like ice.

You pulled your hand away and felt tears pricking your eyes. My god, had someone killed them? Jesus Christ…where was Patsy? Everything was hitting you like a freight train. You turned around, trying to calm your breathing, trying to get your mind to wrap around this surreal nightmare taking place in a time filled with nightmares. “Fuck Patsy…what…what have you got me stuck in…where the fuck are you?” you whispered to no one. Then you heard the voices outside the door and coming closer. You were trapped and there was nowhere here to hide. You froze hearing them stop right outside the door. Shit, shit, shit…

A hand wrapped around your mouth and an arm grabbed hold around your waist. You were pulled backwards with a speed and strength that didn’t even give you time to scream or struggle. Your wide eyes looked around as the sides of the coffin surrounded you. A doc marten clad foot kicked backward, and the coffin lid closed with a jerk, surrounding you in darkness and the scent of cigarettes, leather, and a metallic tang that you now knew was blood.

The fingers over your mouth were like icicles. When you felt the lips near your ear they caused a shiver to run down every nerve you had left. “Be quiet and don’t struggle.” Mary Goore whispered softly into your ear. “Nod if you heard me.” His voice was barely a breath in the confines of the casket. He was holding you so close the zipper and pins that covered his leather jacket were cutting into your back. You nodded as well as you could, trying hard not to have a break down.

Mary’s hand moved slowly from your mouth, his arm coming to rest below chin, just under your neck, his fingers gripping lightly to your upper arm. You were trying to breathe normally but the situation and the fact you were in a coffin was making that very difficult. “You need to slow down…they’ll hear you. Slow your breaths, calm down.” His voice was so low you nearly thought you imagined it. His fingers splayed out against your diaphragm. “Slow down. I don’t have to breathe…they hear you they’ll know it’s not me.”

That bit of information did nothing to really help calm you down but when you heard the muffled sticking of the door popping open, announcing they were coming into the room you shuddered. Mary’s arms tightened around you. You closed your eyes and focused on slowing down the breaths coming from your lungs. “Good girl.” His lips brushed your ear, the words barely there.

You could hear the voices of the two men, muffled but still you could make out what they were saying. “So Chuck the Fuck came through?” The guy with the beard was asking.

“Yep, he always does.” The other man, the even more creepy one it must have been replied. You heard him walking by the coffin and you couldn’t help pressing closer to Mary. You felt their fingers move up and down your arm a very soft “shhh” coming from his lips.

“Where’s the girl at?” The bearded man asked.

You bit your lip and strained to hear what the reply would be, your stomach roiling.

“He’s taking her back to her place. Standard story, “Baby you were so drunk, you better take it easy.” The boys may be a little loopy after this feeding, I think he gave her a bit too much.” The creepy guy replied.

You nearly started crying, you felt tears forming but you held on. She was still alive. They’d taken Patsy’s blood and were pumping it into what you now knew were a group of very real reanimates posing as a fake zombie metal band. The situation was surreal…and the fact you were wrapped in the arms of one of the undead while hiding in a coffin with him was the cherry on top.

“Looks like it’s still pumping them full of unleaded. Let’s go get some dinner, it should be done by then. I’ll get you your take.” Beardy said and you listened to their footsteps walking out of the room, the now familiar sound of the stuck door opening and then it being shut.

“Wait.” Mary’s voice was still barely a whisper. You waited, it felt like a long time but was probably less than a minute.

Mary kept one arm around your waist to keep you from bolting and with the other lifted the lid of the coffin slowly, his green eyes peering around the lid. When he was sure there was no one else in the room he released your waist, transferring his grip to your wrist, both of you stepping out of the casket onto the cheap carpet. You pulled at his hand, trying to get him to let go but he wouldn’t. He wasn’t hurting you, but his grip wasn’t letting go, an icy vice wrapped around your bones.

“Stop it.” He said, his normal voice surprisingly soft with just a trace of an accent you couldn’t place. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

“Tell…that…to my friend whose blood you were…” He wasn’t sucking it like a vampire you supposed. “Being pumped full of.” There…that was accurate.

His eyes narrowed. “I just hid you in my coffin from being caught…” His full lips thinned. “Or was that someone else I was packed in there with?”

Okay, he had a point. In fact he’d been your knight in shining leather a couple of times that evening. Once from faceplanting due to a drunk and just now…and whatever would have happened if you’d been discovered. But this night had spiraled into something crazy. You let out a frustrated half growl, but stopped pulling away, head falling in defeat. “UGH…I’m sorry for being completely fucking freaked out after my friend was drugged and drained of her blood to…feed you and I had to find out this way. I think I’m allowed to be freaked out.”

Mary Goore’s eyes glanced away for a moment, a look of almost embarrassment crossing his bloodied face. “You do have a right to be freaked out.” They replied and released your wrist. “I’m sorry…you…this shouldn’t be happening.”

You were once again surprised by how soft his voice was in comparison to the demonic growling he could summon at will on stage. You watched as he took a step away, pulling the needle still in his arm out with a jerk that made you wince. The wound didn’t bleed, and you could have sworn the pale skin around the puncture healed in front of you. You glanced back up at his face, watching as Mary ran his long fingers through his dark hair. His green eyes were large and stood out in the dark of the room.

“What…are you?” You asked in a hushed whisper, not even realizing the question was leaving your lips.

Mary turned to you, face haunted, a mix of bone white and blood red. “I’m the monster darling.” He said in a bitter tone, mocking smile on his mouth. “Haven’t you figured that out yet? I’m the real deal. The walking dead.”

“But…you’re…well…I…” You couldn’t form the sentence.

“I’m able to fool you? Me and the boys fooled you all into thinking we’re still human?” He grinned then but it wasn’t a happy smile. His teeth were white, incisors sharp and glinting in what light there was. The black make up on his lips made them gleam even more. “That’s the whole thing sweetheart, we’re supposed to fool you. That’s what the boss wants. We have to be that good.”

You should be terrified and running for the door, but he’d done nothing himself to make you feel unsafe with him. You glanced away, not sure what to do, wanting to know what was going on. After another moment you asked. “Why? Why pretend?”

A strange look crossed his face. With a heavy sigh he fell into the couch against the wall, long legs stretched out before him. You hesitated, then carefully stepped over to set a little bit away from him on the plush cushions.

Mary glanced over at you. “Survival. That’s why.” They said at last. Mary leaned over to a small refrigerator that sat humming next to the couch. You heard the door open and shut and then he was handing you a can of unopened beer, keeping one for himself.

He popped the top and took a large swallow, resting the can over the exposed knee of his jeans. “You have to feed in this…life…unlife…whatever you want to call it. People hate you without giving it a second thought. Roy, the manager, he offered us a chance to fake it. Perfect cover, pretending to be what we actually are.”

You opened your own beer and drank down some of it. “Why does he do it?” You asked, voice unsteady.

Mary took a breath he didn’t need…it was out of habit. “We’re cheap. We’re desperate. We work for nearly no money and for blood.” He took another swig of beer, finishing the can and crushing it in his fingers. Mary tossed it with perfect aim at the trash can across the room. They turned to you with a wary gaze. “We can live on blood alone, we don’t need…meat. Only the really damaged ones do. The rest of the guys and I, we can pass for normal. We’re lucky. But something will always give us away. Roy, he keeps us fed with this routine. He and Chuck, they’ve got it down.”

“So…he keeps you fed and safe. Like pets?” You asked and immediately regretted it. You blamed the adrenaline and beer.

They weren’t offended, letting out a rueful laugh. “Yeah, like pets.” Those forest-colored eyes caught your gaze. “I’m sorry about your friend.” His gaze narrowed for a moment. “He won’t hurt the…donors. We’ve made it very clear to Chuck if that happens, he’s going to be the next one on the menu.”

Your eyes widened at that. You still couldn’t figure out why you weren’t screaming and running. But you still weren’t afraid of Mary. Maybe you were nuts. He apparently realized that wasn’t a comforting thing to say. Mary glanced down and twisted a skull shaped ring on his finger, then looked back at you. “You can’t…you can’t tell anyone about us.” His voice was lower, hesitant.

You swallowed a sudden dryness in your throat. Was this the threat now? “I won’t…I promise.” You drank down the rest of your beer, keeping your hands around the empty can to keep them from shaking.

You had seen how the “zombie haters” could react to something like this. Any reanimates that had managed to hide themselves in regular society got the worst treatment. Final deaths and all. And the only ones to get worse treatment were the living who helped them or were in love with them. Godless necrophiliacs, corpse fuckers, the descriptions were many. Even if it was a couple who had been together when the now reanimate of the duo had been alive. It didn’t matter to the hordes. You knew of at least two or three couples in the state that had met a fiery and mysterious end after it had come out. Those were just the ones you knew of, you assumed there were more.

So Mary or the rest of The Unearthed didn’t have to really explain much to you. You’d seen enough hate and what that hate could do. “I’ve seen what can happen.” You said finally.

Mary nodded, the devilock falling over his eye. “So have I.” he sounded weary.

You cocked an eyebrow up behind your glasses. “How did you…”

He gave a laugh and shook his head. “I know what your gonna ask. We don’t have time for that story.” Mary stood and held out a hand, gesturing at your beer. You handed it over and he repeated his actions of before, crushing it and tossing it perfectly into the trash. He turned back to you and held out his hand again. You placed your own in it and he helped you to stand.

“You need to go before he comes back.” Mary held onto your hand, his pale fingers cold against your own. “If he finds out you know about us, he’ll…” His emerald eyes looked away for a moment and you saw clearly now the veins change from red to black in his gaze as he stared at the door the two men had left through earlier. He turned back to you, the color fading to normal, but his expression was strained. “That can’t happen. You have to stay quiet. I’m probably an idiot but I think I can trust you.”

You shook your head and squeezed his icy fingers. “You can trust me. I’m probably an idiot too but I trust you.”

Mary actually laughed again, a genuine smile on his dark lips. “We’re two dumbasses together I guess.” He paused, still not letting go of your hand, the warmth welcome. He seemed to be pondering something and finally turned to the doorway and pulled you along. Mary yanked the door open an inch and peered out into the hall, checking the coast was clear. After he was sure he pushed it open and turned back to you.

“Go right and take the exit, you’ll have to go around the building to get to the parking lot, but you won’t run into anyone at this time of night.” He said, still keeping hold of your fingers.

“Okay, thank you.” You replied. Standing this close to him again, you could see the cracks forming in the fake blood dried on his face, his cheekbones gaunt in the shadows from what little light was there.

He smiled again, showing just the barest hint of what you could only call fangs now. “Don’t thank me…just remember what I said darling.”

You nodded and stepped into the hallway, but he still held your hand. You glanced back and saw the melancholy smile was still there. “We’re here all week.” Mary said, their voice hushed in the doorframe. “Maybe…maybe if you come back I’ll tell you a story.” He lifted your hand to his lips and placed a kiss on your knuckles, then released it.

You gave him a small smile in return, nervous but oddly excited at the thought of seeing the undeath metal singer again. Quickly you headed in the direction you were told and found the exit door. Out in the cold night you headed around the building only one or two stragglers still around. There was now recorded music blaring out of the club which would be closing in an hour.

The events of the night were still running through your head when you finally got to your car. As you unlocked the door you saw Roy, the manager and the owner of the club returning, and you quickly got into your front seat and locked the door. You hit the start button and placed your hands on the steering wheel, fingers shaking from the fact you could have easily been discovered.

In the light of the dash you noticed a bloody lip print on your knuckles, a good night kiss from Mary Goore. Unable to help it, you smiled.

#mary goore #tobias forge #ghost #the band ghost #zombies #mary goore fic #mary goore/you #mary goore & you #mary goore /ofc #zombies are real baby #mary is really dead sexy #as in dead #for real

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zaceouiswriting · 1 year ago

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Fairy Prince - Hearts of Leviathans - Ch.18

Character: Sky x male reader, Riven x male reader, Brandon x male reader

Universe: Somewhere in Winx Club/Saga

Warnings: None

Whispers followed my confident question. Of course, I know the two are still on my list, but I don't care which would be my next enemy, even though I hope it will be the blonde, possibly the cruelest, who gave me moldy food and used me as a punching bag. All because he believes the rumors.

But neither seems ready to take a step forward. With a deep sigh, I stick my sword into the ground, ready to degrade the people who believe they are at the pinnacle of military power. That was until the blonde steps forward out of nowhere.

“You’re too cocky. You may have defeated Riven, but you’re just a pervert.”

At this point, that nickname doesn't even bother me anymore. I just don't like that such a lie could destroy the reputation I've built by winning a war I never wanted to be a part of. But my growing anger dissipated as I remind myself that no one there actually knows who I am.

“Can we start this fight?” I ask the instructor, to which he nods. A second later begins the fight verbally.

"You will go under, metal can never defeat plasma-"

Before the blonde could even finish his sentence, I cut the plasma blade in a single movement and held my sword to his neck. With a grin, I move my head close to his ear and whisper, "That's called the viper bite. I usually would have had a dagger in my left hand, so this snake only has one tooth."

Without waiting for a second, I stab him in the neck with the tip of the blade, only to draw out a single drop of blood before kicking his legs in and causing him to fall to the ground while also turning away in the same motion so I can would not be torn down with him. As he lies shocked on the ground, I'm standing over him with the point of my sword at his throat. A crashing sound followed his quick defeat. His weapon, which flew a few meters due to his fall, suddenly bursts as the energy crystal explodes into a thousand pieces.

Once again, everyone around us is speechless. When he looks at Saladin, it is clear that he has already resigned himself to his fate. Fully aware that his people had done something unforgivable. Now that he can see that my grandfather did not lie to him.

I kneel next to Blondie and stare into his clear blue eyes. A beauty of innocence, but they couldn't fool me. He's not the first pretty boy to try to catch me with feigned innocence, although the first one actually managed to trap me this way. His eyes were even clearer than those of the blonde below me, his hair dark and curly. I could feel my face fall. Why do I have to remember him now?

“You were so arrogant it was almost cute,” I whisper as I swallow the sadness building inside me. "Your grip is strong for a swordsman, but you are as flexible as a tree, and your footwork is almost worse than Riven's," I sigh deeply, "you have a lot of training ahead of you."

After giving him these tips, I stand up and walk away. But there's a strange feeling in the pit of my stomach. Out of reflex, I raise my sword again to keep it behind me. A clinking sound and the feeling of something falling to the floor unnerves me. As I look over my shoulder, my blood begins to boil. There is a small dagger on the ground. I can't believe that an honorable soldier raised with the principles of a knight would do such a thing. It leaves me speechless.

At that moment, something just snapped inside me. The anger rising within me simply broke my patience. With my fist clenched, I turn around and run towards the blonde guy lying on the ground, who is grinning at me so smugly. It just makes me even angrier.

My hand hurt and burned after just a few hits. His face is hard, the bones so strong that I may have done more damage to my hand than to his face. But when people finally pull me away from him, his face is pretty beaten up, bloody, and swollen.

It actually took the specialists five men to pull me away from the dishonorable blonde idiot. They try to calm me down, but none of their words could do anything for me as they have looked down on me the whole time and still call me a pervert just because their walnut brains can't comprehend a male magic fairy.

As I am restrained, I close my eyes and begin to breathe lightly again, soothing my own mind with memories of the warmth of my childhood. But even that can only get me so far if the same person who sparked my anger keeps humiliating me, which is what the blonde does. Even after I beat him to a pulp, he couldn't stop insulting me. Luckily, I didn't react, which shows the guys holding me that I'm no longer a threat. At least, that's what they thought.

Then, as soon as they release me, I run forward, to everyone's visible and audible horror. With my sword before me, I am ready to strike him down. His eyes were as wide as possible with his swollen, almost blocked eyes. Another man is holding him, looking pale and fearing for his own life, although my blade wouldn't hit him as my only target is the monster he is helping.

With my eyes burning and my blade inches from his face, I prepare to kill another person. In my anger, I wait for blood to spray all over me. But it didn't happen, not even a little bit.

Instead, when I come back to my senses, my blade has been stopped by another. A massive, green greatsword. The wielder, someone I never thought would do this. I stare at him through gritted teeth and ask him in a whisper, "What are you doing? Let me kill the smug, arrogant dimwit!"

“I can’t allow that,” he answers quietly, as softly as he had always spoken to me. “He is my knight.”

“Knight?” I ask mockingly. “A knight would never be this underhanded! Throwing a knife in my back? You must be joking."

The brown-haired man briefly looks back at his knight. For a second, I even imagined seeing a momentary flash of disappointment in them, but before I could be sure, he turns forward again. Instead, all I could see was his determination to protect his knight regardless of what he had done.

I try to push him away, but the only thing that happens in return is he shoves me back instead. Startled, I stare at him with shocked eyes. My gaze even involuntarily wanders down my arms to my sword. But there's nothing wrong. So, how could he push me away so easily? His attention is already back on his knight.

"I'm sorry for my knight Brandon, but you can't just kill everyone who does something to you."

I roll my eyes and could only scoff. Once again, I'm beyond annoyed by his insolence. But to calm him down, I take a few steps away, preparing for the next fight.

“If I kill everyone who lied about me or said words to me that I don't like, no one here would be left alive.”

I could see and hear a heavy swallow going down his throat, by his Adam's apple bobbing up and down. Because he knows I'm right. I grin at having the upper hand and hold my sword out to him.

“A bet,” I offer him.

"What?" he asks, increasingly confused.

“A bet,” I repeat myself more slowly, “If I win against you, too, I want everyone in your group to grant me one wish.”

"Is that all?"

“No,” you smiled evilly, “I want one of you three to be my assistant, loyal and cooperative.”

“And what if I win?”

“Whatever you want,” I tell him, staring into his eyes, never breaking eye contact, which makes him visibly uncomfortable.

The brown-haired man turns to his friends. They both approach him, and as they speak quietly, I look around; the atmosphere is more tense. Many people watch my every move with a disdain I've never felt before. Why do these people hate me? Is it really just because I wanted to follow my birthright? Would they change if they realized the error in their beliefs? I don't think so, but only time will tell.

I stand there for a minute, staring at the three guys heatedly arguing about my bet. But to be honest, it has quickly become boring. I look up and stare at the sun for only a moment before just looking at my fingernails.

At some point, I must've zoned out because I have only come to my senses after I feel someone pushing me. I shake my head to clear it and see the instructor in front of me, his face twisted in disgust. He doesn't say a word. He only looks down at me as if I'm inferior to him.

Already ticked off, I feel my magic tingling in my hand, ready to bring this man back down to the ground where he belongs. But luckily for him, I catch Saladin's eye as he shakes his head. Annoyed, I let go of the magic building in my left hand, a spell that would've electrified the man to a crisp. However, when I let it go, my arm glows with lighting. It even affects my eyes, with which I stare directly into the teachers' orbs. I could see him swallowing in fear, exactly what I wanted to see.

"Let's get this over with," I mumble impatiently. "Are you ready, pretty boy?"

The brunette guy turns and looks around, but to his visible shock, my eyes are solely on him. It took me a moment too long for my liking to understand that he didn't think I could ever mean him. I call out to him, ready to pounce him, already in my attack stance. Then, and only then, it apparently dawned on him that I could actually mean him. He blushes a little but stood his ground.

Soon, the instructor begins our fight. Unlike the other two times, I don't move instantly and stare at my opponent. Strangely, he doesn't get as nervous as I thought he would. Smiling, hoping he is more than what meets the eye. After a few minutes, he still didn't make his first move, so I did it for him.

Instead of walking, I go down a little. I angle my feet and stand still for a second, only to suddenly start sprinting. My opponent's eyes widen due to my high speed. He could barely react in time to raise his sword into the sky and bring it down a moment later. Seeing this, I hold up my sword, blocking his attack with ease, holding his greatsword slightly above me. Not many people actually fight with a greatsword, as a metal sword of this size is heavy and difficult to handle. But since only the handle is made from metal and the blade comes from a plasma crystal, the weight is certainly not an issue.

I can see the terror in his eyes that even with the power he has put into his sword, I find it so easy to block his attack. Although I feel the pressure he's putting on my sword with his due to his immense strength, I don't show it to make him suffer psychologically. He is strong but not very smart. He could have tried to push me to the ground using his legs or even removing one of his hands from the hilt of his sword since I'm sure he could wield it with one hand. But he doesn't do it. His only way of fighting is direct. This is honorable, but it doesn't work in a real fight.

There were many different ways I could end this fight, even honorably. But what's fun in it? I grin because I know the third fight is almost over. But suddenly, the pressure on my sword grew exponentially. Confused, I raise my gaze up to my opponent. He wears a determined expression on his almost saintly features, portraying nothing but displeasure at the moment.

Soon, I could hear a cracking sound under my feet, and even my left hand begins to hurt from still blocking the brutes strike. I could hold the position if I have to. But to get through this fight unscathed, I really need to do something soon.

I let my sword waver under the growing pressure, gazing at my opponent's handsome features and waiting for him to smile.

And just as I think about it - not even a few seconds later - a big smile appears on his face because he believes he will win the fight and everything he wants from me. Now that I know he's already going berserk, I can finally end the fight.

I let my sword glide down the plasma greatsword and duck under it faster than the guy before me could react since he's out of his mind. Barely past the sword hanging above my head, I hear it crash into the stone, which cracked further under the enormous pressure exerted on it. My sword helped it come down further away from me. As soon as I feel my sword release from the pressure, I pull it towards me and quickly upwards. I quickly approach my opponent, and in an instant, I am standing in front of him, the sharp blade of my sword at his throat, cutting his skin lightly to bring him out of his rage.

The guy's eyes quickly clear again. The whitish, murky eyes turn into a warm hazel brown. To say it shocks me would be an understatement. I rarely found eyes beautiful, but these? They are from a different world.

“Man, you have beautiful eyes,” I murmur. It's only when I see the increasing blush on my opponent's cheeks that I realize that I actually said those words out loud and not only in my head. Embarrassed, I turn my head away but don't step away from him. "What's your name?"

He clears his throat, trying to hide his blush and replacing it with a grin.

“Sky,” he replies politely, a certain arrogance in his voice as if he is playing a role.

"Just Sky?“

“Prince Sky of Eraklyon.“

I stare at him dumbfounded, my mouth slightly open. He must have taken it to mean that I am amazed that he is actually a prince, but why should I? Instead, I look around. For a moment too long, my eyes are focused on the blonde guy that the guy in front of me called Brandon. He must have seen me staring at him because he moves nervously on his feet.

“Are you sure you're the Prince of the Golden Lion?”

“Yes,” he says, less confident than before.

“Okay,” I whisper back and sheathe my sword. I step back from him and bow to him mockingly with a slight wink, ready to put an end to this show fight.

I turn to Saladin and the others. Everyone is stunned. It feels good, but I'm still not satisfied for some reason. My eyes shift to Cory, but his gaze is focused on the rest of the forest and seemed struck by its beauty. But he couldn't fool me. With a furious gaze, I stare at him. It didn't take long for him to look at me, but he immediately looks away. He tries to pretend he didn't see my angry eyes.

“Let’s fight!” I shout to him.

Cory groans in annoyance, throwing his head back, refusing to acknowledge me. However, when some specialists persist in bothering him, he reluctantly looks in my direction. It's clear he doesn't want to engage in any conflict with me. All I could do is smile confidently at him.

But Corey wasn't lucky that day because, as my best friend's older brother, I know how to rile him up. I change my face to a cold facade, straighten my back fully, slam the tip of my sword into the ground, and walk towards him. I caught a suspicious look out of the corner of my eye, but he didn't move away, most likely to protect his honor. I mean, who would run away from a rookie, right?

As I approach him, I maintain a serious expression and don't even offer a slight smile. I move around him in a circle, like the superior predator that I know I am.

“I understand you’re afraid of me, Corey,” I start murmuring. Almost immediately, I could feel his gaze on me. But I don't know if he's already figured out what I'm trying to do or if I've already got him hooked. Anyway, it's just the beginning. “Since Richard's failed expedition put your family's name in jeopardy, and your little brother was never able to defeat me even when I was supposed to be a fairy, I understand you are afraid of failure. Especially now that my grandfather has taken a liking to you and your family.”

“Shut it!” Cory warns me quietly. All eyes were on us, but our voices were so quiet that few could hear our words.

As soon as those disrespectful words left his big mouth, I finally stop some distance away from him. I grin at him. It didn't take long for him to realize my end goal. His eyes widen in panic, and he tries to reach out to me to apologize, but it's too late already.

“I demand retribution for this disrespect,” I say loudly. “I demand a Dorbikurr!”

The murmuring crowd abruptly fell silent. Although most probably have no idea what "Dorbikurr" means, the heavy tone of the word is probably enough to convey that it's not something easy or positive.

For as long as I've known him, Cory has never looked so shocked.

“Are you in your right mind?” he asks me in a panic. “I am a close graduate of the Red Fountain Academy. Do you think you can beat me? You know what would happen if I win, right?”

"I have to give up everything and become your servant forever. Corey, do you think I'm stupid?" I ask him rhetorically, my grin growing wider.

Even though I would lose everything if I lose to him, he wouldn't suffer the same fate. As the one challenged to this sacred duel, he would only lose his ability to ever hurt me. He cannot fight me in the future, tarnish my reputation, or oppose me in any way, and if he learns of a plot to harm me, he must inform me. Nothing in this world or any other can break the sacred promise.

He sighs as he resigns to his fate. Seemingly confident he would win. Even though I challenged him, is he really this stupid or just too cocky. Either way, I'll be sure to wipe away the growing smirk on his face.

[Masterlist]

#x male reader #male reader #winx club #winx saga #winx saga x male reader #brandon x male reader #riven x male reader #winx club x male reader #riven #brandon #sky #sky x male reader #series #fairy prince

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seeminglyranch87 · 6 months ago

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Taylor & Travis Timeline

August 2024 - Part 2

"salt air and the rust on the door, I never needed anything more" August, T. Swift

August 11,12 - Chiefs Training Camp, St Joseph, Mo | Day 16 & 17

#1 The Tortured Poets Department tops the Billboard 200 for the 14th non consecutive week - and this has consequences for other artists...

August 13 - Daily Mail report (x)

Taylor Swift hosted a lavish thank you party for her 200-strong tour team at private members' club Annabel's in Mayfair, London on Tuesday night. The hitmaker, 34, let her hair down with her crew and partied until 3am ahead of her final leg of the Eras Tour at Wembley Stadium.

Taylor is dressed in Vivienne Westwood.

Chiefs Training Camp, St Joseph, Mo | Day 18

Patrick Mahomes is interviewed on SiriusXM and shares...

“I've been trying to get [Travis] to grow his hair out and all of a sudden Taylor gets him to do it."

Reminds me of this moment during the Eras Tour with Travis dancing to Shake It Off (x)

August 14 - Chiefs Training Camp, St Joseph, Mo | Day 19

August 15 - The Eras Tour, Wembley Stadium, London, UK N4

Taylor appeared to tear up at the first show after events in Vienna.

Everything Has Changed x End Game x Thinking Out Loud with Ed Sheeran (guitar x) & King Of My Heart & The Alchemy (piano x)

Taylor also does the archer pose during her performance of So High School - do we assume Travis is watching the live stream?

ETonline reports (x)

A source tells ET, "Taylor and Travis always prioritize each other even when they are physically apart. They are still in constant communication texting and FaceTiming each other." The source adds that the pair is "very affectionate with each other even when they're apart." One way that Kelce apparently shows his affection is by lavishing Swift with heartfelt gifts. "Travis sends Taylor flowers and loves to shower her with surprise gifts and tokens of gratitude," the source says. "Their connection is unlike anything that they've ever experienced before."

IJBOL - available for a few more hours... thank You aimEe live, see Taylorswift.com to purchase!!! Let's keep TTPD at #1 and remember who made TS famous.

Chiefs Training Camp, St Joseph, Mo | Day 20 Military Appreciation Day & final practice

August 16 - The Eras Tour, Wembley Stadium, London, UK N5

Taylor debuts a new Midnights costume ✨🌙

London Boy (guitar) & Dear John x Sad Beautiful Tragic (piano)

August 17 - Chiefs v Lions, Arrowhead Stadium, Kansas City, MO. NFL preseason. 23 - 24

Patrick passes behind his back to Travis for the first down (x)

The Eras Tour, Wembley Stadium, London, UK N6

I Did Something Bad (guitar) & My Boy Only Breaks HIs Favourite Toys x Coney Island (piano)

Cheekily there was no announcement for Reputation (TV). Taylor has played all songs from Rep on the Eras Tour.

Travis attends Kansas City Current women's soccer final with Patrick & Brittany Mahomes & friends.

August 19 - The Eras Tour, Wembley Stadium, London, UK N7

Long Live x Change (guitar) & The Archer x You're On Your Own Kid (piano)

Travis at preseason practice, KC (x)

Travis Kelce is announced to star in action comedy ‘LOOSE CANNONS’ for Lionsgate (x).

Go to previous update -> August 2024 part 1

Go to next update -> August 2024 part 3

Return to the timeline

#taylor swift #taylor and travis #taylor swift and travis kelce #87 and 89 #travis kelce #traylor #killatrav #seemingly ranch #timeline #87 + 13 = 100 #swelce #chiefs #chiefs kingdom #london

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w98pops · 1 year ago

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["Wow, hold your horses, boy! I still need these ribs."

"TOMMYYYYYYYYYY..."]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY ALETUS!!!

Thomas took a leave just to visit Eric's birthday party. The little guy never been happier.

Some annual rambling, this time regarding Aletus' family, all under the cut.

Eric comes from a family of honest to god Followers of the Apocalypse. Dina and Jonah were childhood friends, growing in the vault, and quickly fell in love with each other. Dina was a nurse and Jonah was a software engineer, their respectable professions earned them a place amongst the Followers after they left their vault.

Their first child was Thomas Williams. A humble sweet boy with a heart of gold. He wasn't a smarty type, so he felt much out of place growing among the Followers. That particular fact was the reason of constant bickering and arguing with his parents

When Tommy reached the enlistment age, he ran away and joined the NCR military force, which was met extremely negatively with his parents, but they softened up after awhile. Dina and Jonah love all their children despite all the difficulties and differences. After the attack on Eric's caravan, and Eric's "death", Thomas mourned harded than the others.

His and his younger sibling's relationship was really really deep, in fact, Thomas' only real reason for fighting was to make the world a better place for his little brother. Which is a damn shame, because after a few years he got the news saying that Eric actually SURVIVED and lived in prosperity as a legionary. Thomas was angry, shameful and really fucking sad. Type of sadness and shame that leave you helpless. He changed his last name to his mom's — Yau — to never be associated with the person his brother has become. After his battle injury, which led to him losing almost all of his vision, he retired from active duty and became a secretary for a high ranking NCR general. He sends money to his sister in Boneyard and thanks god every day that their parents died without the knowledge that their child became a fascist slaver.

Edna is the youngest child in the family. She was born a year after Eric and 6 years after Tommy. She's a bit of a silly girlie, blue hair and pronouns type, and she took a lot from her father. Edna is an extremely talented engineer, like, insanely good. While Thomas was slaughting minorities in the name of freedom and Eric was studying homoerotic fanfiction instead of working on his history major, she was doing STUFF. She mastered computers before she learned how to tie her shoes. After her parents death, she stayed in the Boneyard and practically became a leader of the engineer team. Her straightforward personality and brains earned her a very high place of authority in the Followers community and very justifiable at that. In the year of 2281 Edna is working on her little project "Hippocrates", which is aimed to start mass production of autodocs from scratch. She's super pro-NCR because without her brother's money her project fated to fail, and she can't allow that. Her motivations are not so much as to help people, but to show off her sick programming skills, but as long as she's doing good work I say pop off girlie. General public doesn't know how she feels about her other brother's affilation with the Legion, but she never changed her last name like Thomas did, and there's even rumors spreading that she was contacting him from time to time. Before he died, at least.

That's uhmm 😭😭 kinda all. I'm not feeling good but still wanted to drop some Aletus lore on his birthday, because people love the guy, and I love when people love my guys.

CARD SWAP SPOILER. My little pelican king is a four of clubs. Sharky is a joker.

#fallout #fallout new vegas #fnv #oc: aletus

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castlebyersafterdark · 3 days ago

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ok sorry if this sounds mean but like,, saying you don’t want the military plot (duh) and do want the supernatural one, implying that el is just military and will is just supernatural is ??? like el is def also gonna be involved in the supernatural stuff like don’t just shun her cuz she had a boring ass plot in s4. she has a mystery that revolves around her, a lot of which yes we have answered, with some key components missing specifically around her relation to will!! i wouldn’t get freaked out about this not involving will like they’re literally switching their roles from s1 rn right? the post they made is captioned like “who is Really looking for el 👀” or something to that effect and we all know the military is looking for her so maybe this is implying that someone we thought knew her whereabouts ( the party ) actually don’t. thus maybe will is in el’s shoes this season and we get to see the reverse of their connection and Why they’re connected in the first place - like why el recognized him in season one yk that type of stuff

idk ig all this el hate makes me a little sad as someone who grew up loving her and being really intrigued by the whole conspiracy surrounding her. plus i think sometimes it can come off as a little misogynistic to disregard her importance to focus not just on byler but like the og core four. like yah they are that and id love to see them together As that but with max out of commission and el seemingly thrown out the window it starts to feel more and more like a boys club heavy mentality and not in an entirely good way. i might be literally the only person who feels this way,, idk anytime a mileven has accused anyone of misogyny it seems much more loudly homophobic than anything? so this might just be a me thing :/ it’s just getting me down with all the el hate/ indifference/ fatigue/ whatever you wanna call it

sorry if this comes off as mean or anything i love and appreciate you and this blog tons 🫶🫶🫶

I'm gonna keep repeating myself for points and I'm running out of things to say haha, instead just passing along yalls very valid opinions and I'm so glad we can all discuss and debate and share ideas and be kind at the hang out. Maybe we just throw a little popcorn at each other and carry on haha.

The fandom is very diverse and we have to keep that in mind! The things we take away from the show are always going to each be a little different, we as a fandom are not a monolith and none of us are writing it - we will all be ok!! It's a little exhausting sometimes trying to be the optimist but I'll do it!! And even if I'm not the fondest of certain characters I never want to make anyone feel bad or unwelcome so - I love and appreciate you too 🫶🫶🫶🫶

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aviisreal · 15 days ago

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𖦹･｡ﾟMASTERLIST｡ﾟ･ 𖦹

@Fratboyrry_ on Character.ai

ꔛ2012ꔛ

Baby rushing

Moved on

Secret

You met at a party

Overworked

Valentines day surprise

ꔛ2013ꔛ

'Nuts' inspired

'I wanna be yours' inspired

Psychotic boyfriend

Frustrated

You cut your own bangs

Family outings

'White ferarri' inspired

"Don't tell anyone."

Friends with benefits

'Stick season'

Secret rendezvous

Rising concern

Smells like teen spirit

Dangerously inlove

Supe rich kids

Sunrise dates

Shy valentines

OD (trigger warning)

Sad

Drunk kissing

Biker huspand

ꔛ2014ꔛ

Overwhelming fame

'American wedding'

Baby's first Christmas

Expecting

We live in time

Football

‘Everywhere everything’

‘Diana’

Not alone anymore

Windowsill

Family time

Never around too long

Period cramps

Eating grapes under the table

Argument

ꔛ2015ꔛ

Unknown feelings

Movies

Let me b-a-n-g baby

Finding light in the dark

Thanksgiving

Jealous

Your enemy

Grumpy husband

Jet

Fighting

Poetry

Tattoo artist

ꔛ2016ꔛ

Mommy issues

Post-partum

Enemies to lovers

Clingy

Missing you

ꔛ2017ꔛ

Forever recognizing you

‘Fall inlove with you’

ꔛ2018ꔛ

Depressed huspand

Miscarriage (Trigger warning)

Energetic husband

ꔛ2020ꔛ

Baking gone wrong

Daddy and daughter

ꔛ2021ꔛ

‘i wish you were sober’ inspired

Waiting ‘till marriage

Drunken new years

ꔛ2022ꔛ

Workaholic husband

He won’t shave

Girl dad

Age gap

Husband and father

Mornings

Painting

Caring, gentle, and loving husband

Late mornings

Perfect life

Worried for his wife

Gym trips

The day after christmas

Age difference

Different apologies

Heart to heart

ꔛ2023ꔛ

Cold, busy, Husband

Beach

Grammys ‘23

Quiet life

Drunk

ꔛ2024ꔛ

‘New years day’ inspired

Addiction

Parents of a teenager

ꔛAUꔛ

BDSM club owner

‘Squid games’ inspired

Cowboy husband

Shy boy x Popular girl

Hockey player x Figure skater

Pastors son x Troublemaker

Psychologist boyfriend

reached the link limit (ugh kms.)

‘bones and all’ inspired

Doctor x Nurse

EMT x EMT

Military huspand x SAHW

Troublemakers

The ‘70s

ꔛMAFIAꔛ

Sneaking around

Working together

Mafia boss

Mafia boss boyfriend

Pregnant with his baby

Club owner

Mafia boss x Assistant

His curvy wife

Different with her

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flaresanimedump · 2 years ago

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Ok so. I was gonna make a post that Ranpo technically didn't go to school. So I went to look at the Origins novel and I checked the raw because of all the omissions in the TL (Ranpo was kicked out of the police academy 6 months before the start of the plot not "less than a year ago" it's very explicitly 半年 "half year"). And uh. Well so on that topic they kicked him out when he was 13, but a police academy isn't considered a real school in Japan so while his education in Japanese language continued he didn't have the core subjects from the age of 12 on. But also.

The English line when Ranpo talks about the school is: "The rules were a pain in the ass. Don’t leave the dorm after curfew, no buying sweets, wear these clothes, follow these rules. And the classes bored me to death."

These are all relatively common restrictions for Japanese schools (snacking is only prohibited at stricter ones), though a couple of wording things stood out. One, the "pain in the ass" rules is 規則 (actually rules) and "follow these rules" is 規律 - ominously "discipline" (this line being more like "not to mention X, Y, Z, Z being the discipline). "Discipline" isn't "punishment," it just has a strictness vibe, but it's a creepy thing to say imo. I hear this and think Trunchbull from Matilda.

So I went to check out the Wikipedia page on "Police Academies" and I see "脱走及び逃走の防止" - "escape and escape prevention" which is an immediate red flag for any live-in institution. "Escape" could also be translated as "desertion" but what followed was a short paragraph saying "there's no barbed wire like a prison but coming and going is strictly controlled" so I'm going with "escape." Ranpo attended something like those kiddie marine bootcamps that were all the rage in the 2000s. I don't know about anybody else but growing up nondivergent camps like that were my absolute worst nightmare.

So I'm already Distressed at the thought of this - but thing about "no buying sweets" is it's age-focused. "No buying sweets" is like "no snacking" but it's specifically "[a child] buying and eating sweets [while away from home thus spoiling their appetite]." This is against the rules because "they should eat food prepared by their parents" and the,,, incredibly sad irony isn't lost on me there even though the academy was feeding him. Which begs the question: can you really train a 12 year old to become a detective?

So I went to the Japanese National Police Agency website because I wasn't sure what the age range for attendance at these schools was. And I found it.

Eighteen to thirty.

Ranpo lasted eighteen months in a military academy for eighteen to thirty year olds until they kicked him out.

*I'm not going to claim this is all 100% right since Japanese prefectures set the lower age limit at 18, which could mean Asagiri was just makin' shit up or there's some lesser-known police middle school that calls itself the exact same thing as the one for adults. You're only supposed to stay at them for 10 months so there's already some other suspect things here. But I think it's pretty on-brand for Ranpo to think college-level classes are boring. Also his dad was connected to the principal so he could probably bend the rules a little to get Ranpo admitted.

UPDATE: 10/4/24

So on the rewatch of the anime I noticed they did include a picture of the school behind Ranpo:

And unless slenderman was one of his classmates I assume they meant to imply that the school was, in fact, an actual middle school. This isn't clear in the books though so I'm not sure how canon I feel it is, especially when this is the memory right before:

And this is the one before that:

So in the anime there's an actual boy detective school, which could?? be a sort of reference to author Edogawa Rampo's Boy Detectives Club, though that was a club and not a full school. I feel it makes more sense that he'd been stuck almost entirely around adults after his parents died since that's his main focus throughout his story - if he'd been stuck around other kids for 1.5 years, why not say everyone is nuts? But anyway, at least in the anime it's a regular school.

#ALSO OH MY GOD I totally understand Fukuzawa now #save Ranpo #ranpo edogawa #edogawa ranpo #bungo stray dogs #bsd #bungou stray dogs #anaylsis #bsd analysis

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pinkprimrose05 · 1 year ago

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DAN HENG.FOR THE CHARACTER ASK GAME!!

Cold Dragon Young!

General opinion/How much I care about them: Man, Dan Heng is such a fun guy. You see this quiet dude and you think he's probably all plain and straight-laced, but then he, in no particular order: gets into a an underground fight club tournament (and wins??), breaks a military fleet's banishment sentence to save his pals, and gets a whole cutscene wherethe idiot almost kisses the mc (there's no way that was a proper CPR attempt. He was 100% bullshitting his way there).

[Spoiler warning for the Luofu main quest incoming!!]

The way they handled his background and character arc makes me very sad tho. I wish the writers took their time with playing out his backstory; it could've been so much better if they waited long enough to let us get to know him and everyone else involved a little better, to see his struggle with the very interesting ship of theseus theme he has going on in light of Dan Feng's history, and deliver on all that in a way that's actually impactful in emotion and story relevance, instead of rushing it in favor of getting to the bossfight of the quest. Alas, it is what it is.

At least he got out of it with something! I mean, who can say no to 1 more little sister :D

A ship I love: *rummaging noises* huh, I wonder where I dropped that. Oh well. No ships for you, boy. Rip.

A non-romantic relationship that I love: THE ASTRAL EXPRESS. Sometimes a family is a retired Herrscher, the creator of The Dreaded Coffee™, a lonely dragon with autism, a calendar day in an ice cube, a funky ticking time bomb, and the bunny carrying the whole train on their back.

They are everything to me. Their groupchat is literally called The Astral Express Family. I love them your honor I hope they all live happy and peaceful and prosperous lives and hopefully don't get their 3rd stabbed member in a row when we head to the next planet. The Astral Express checks offs all the right boxes of wholesome and sweet for the found family enjoyer that is yours truly, which is just- mwah. I love them so so so much.

(Bonus shoutout to Bailu AKA the new little sister I mentioned a bit above. I NEED to see more of her and Dan Heng together, they're just adorable.)

The NOTP: Danmarch, Danstelle and Dancae. I just. don't see it. They're so sibling-coded to me, it feels off to see them in a romantic context.

My biggest headcanon about them: I think all Vidyadhara are cold-blooded by virtue of being dragons, so Dan Heng prefers to sleep on the floor of the archives because, given the amount of devices running in such a small space, it's always the warmest place on the Express. Or so he thinks until March drags him and Stelle for a sleepover in her room and builds a pillow fort. Turns out their newest member is actually a portable heater, and the pillows and blankets are also very warm and comfy too and- wait, what's that sweet feeling?

...Oh no.

Now he wants to try this again.

An idea for a fanfiction I would like to write/read about them: 5 times people smile at Dan Heng + the one time he smiles at them. Featuring me-typical express fam appearances, a sprinkle of Bailu and a dash of Jing Yuan, and maaaybe a hint of that one ghost from the past.

Now if only I can find something along those lines or figure out how to write it myself... hmm...

Something that makes me think of them: withered leaves, lotus blooms, small water ponds, zither music (idk), and, uh, Kaedehara Kazuha. Maple leaf windboy solidarity lmao

#tysm for the ask marcy!#honkai star rail #hsr #dan heng #friend's asks

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simplegenius042 · 1 year ago

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Fallout 4 OC - Nate Gust Sarid (The Sole Survivor)

Further information under the cut:

Here's my Sole Survivor for Fallout 4, Nate Gust Sarid, just a regular (if sometimes scrutinized) retired U.S Army veteran who just wanted to have a suburban life with a nice job to support his wife Nora and their infant son, Shaun, as well as paying for therapy in regard to his imposter syndrome and place in the "American Dream" and his service, but unfortunately, nukes dropped. Good news, he signed his family up to Vault 111, so they were able to get to safety in there. Bad news, they had to leave Codsworth behind... oh, and they get cryogenically frozen, he watches his beloved wife Nora get shot and his son kidnapped, and awakens in an abandoned vault as the sole survivor... or had he ever been? Regardless, he makes his way into the Commonwealth where he has to pick between four factions (plus the general populace) waging against each other. These factions include; down-on-their-luck underdogs (Minutemen), a group of activists for android rights with a tendency of espionage (Railroad), a military of power armored technology fanatics who are kind of xenophobic (Maxson's Brotherhood of Steel) and lastly the organized science and robotics club gone too far who also kidnapped Nate's baby boy (Insititute). Naturally, Nate picks the first option, and tries to get the other three to get along (to... varying degrees of success). At least he's got his wacky companions to keep him company.

Nate, at a height of 6 feet and 3 inches, becomes the strong, handsome and healthy 33-year-old general of the Minutemen, thanks to supportive and reliable baby boy Preston Garvey, on a journey to reestablish a functional order in the Commonwealth's settlements, and find his baby son Shaun in the process (and avenge his late wife in the process). His hygiene is up to date and is quite incredible with his hands, Nate's sense of style is not so out of place amongst the Commonwealth (unless he wears his customized power armor that he borrowed indefinitely from Maxson's chapter of the Brotherhood of Steel) but manages to both impress and disappoint Deacon in the fact Nate can blend in with the crowd with such average and null clothing. Nate is so fucking sad but he pushes on anyway despite how much he really wants to give up, only fueled by the need to get his son back (and introduce him to a less hostile environment, no less). He gets even more horrified once he discovers he's not entirely human.

Nate is quite perceptive in his surroundings, people and with what his hands are doing, and his extremely skilled at stealth and combat. Not to mention he's a great cook, with an understanding on how to handle not only animals but also children. He's decent at keeping the peace, managing old world tech, and has a good grasp on his books, with his survival knowledge, street smarts and use of seduction being hindered between his time of service and domesticity. He has good days or bad days, no in-between. Though his communication and persuasion skills could need some more work, especially when it comes to creativity in his plans (he was a soldier told to simply focus on what was ahead and being ordered of him).

With great confidence and passion in his quest to find his son, Nate copes with the horrors he experiences with excessive amounts of hilarious sarcasm. Nate traverses the Commonwealth with mild patience and average intelligence, only going on quests just to get by or rally support for the Minutemen, or to find clues on the whereabouts of his missing son. His happiness went from high to low very quickly after the nukes dropped and he lost pretty much everything in his old life. Shaun was the last piece of that life he wanted to preserve... until he discovers he's sixty years too late to be there for his boy rather than just a decade like he initially thought. He has little anxiety and his beliefs are rather muted.

Nate isn't necessarily mean as he is blunt and coping with sarcasm. This man is incredibly brave, willing to take on Mirelurk Queens, gangsters, Deathclaws and the Brotherhood of Steel if it means getting his son back and giving the Commonwealth a better future. While he doesn't resort to violence, he's aware that his communication skills are far from fantastic, and given the hostile state of the Commonwealth, he is prepared and honestly expects to get his hands dirty and bloody should the need arise. He can think things through but when it comes to his son, Kellog or the Insititute there comes a bit of a hinderance in the planning stage. Nate isn't very agreeable, in fact he's more opposing to forces he believes are unjustified and in the wrong. He'd honestly rather find his son, but Preston's idealism gives him a new purpose and something for him to feel useful. Formerly he was just pragmatic, but spending time with Preston and the Minutemen, as well as travelling and helping others like Nick, Cait, Piper and Hancock around settlements and communities (such as Goodneighbor and Diamond City) and additional factions like the Railroad, Nate gets a bit more hopeful than he'd like to admit. Nate spends a lot more than he saves and prefers the outdoors to the indoors. Honestly its quite terrifying how this man can switch from calm and collected to wild and dangerous so fast. Nate is, and he would never admit this, a possessive man, as well as stubborn and decisive.

His charm is mostly backed up by his sarcastic quips which do help make him somewhat approachable despite his bluntness, and that's not to mention the fact Nate is a truly empathetic man. Definitely generous with what he gives to the settlements in the Commonwealth (something the citizens are extremely thankful for) and his wealth is steady, though he has low aggression (that's not to say he can't be enraged, such as whenever he encounters the Insititute and Kellogg) and he's still in his mourning period so his libido isn't his focus right now (though when it eventually comes back up again, his Rizz isn't too bad given Piper's reception to it, despite how rusty it had gotten).

Nate is quite an honest man (though very blunt), not saying that he can't improvise and adapt while undercover in the Institute. Preston saw the makings of a leader and helped carve out Nate into a natural-born one for the Minutemen and the Commonwealth. Though blunt and sarcastic, he's somewhat polite, though mostly to his companions and most of the faction leaders. Honestly kind of unintentionally gets swept up in the politics of the Commonwealth. Cool, flirty, cute and surprisingly fun, if a little gullible (such as when he entered Goodneighbor), but that doesn't change the fact that, should Kellogg and the Institute be involved (or say, Nuka World), he is the scariest Fallout protagonist there is out of the lot I have.

He doesn't believe in any higher powers, or at least refuses to due to his unconventional creators, though Nate thinks that all of what happened couldn't have been a coincidence (which he is kind of correct). After visiting Far Harbour, and seeing some spooky shit in the Commonwealth, he doesn't throw the idea of magic and the supernatural amongst the espionage androids, mutated monsters and feral braindead ghouls out of the realm of possibility in the Wasteland. Nate believes in soulmates, especially when Piper doesn't throw him out of her life after the revelation that he's a synth whose life has mostly been made up by his son Shaun. While Nate doesn't see the world in black and white, he is aware that some folks are worst and more moral than others, while the rest of them fall in the in-between. He believes luck has something to do with his rebellion, but he also knows most of the events were manufactored by "the Father", aka his son Shaun as some twisted experiment.

Family and friends are amongst the most important priorities Nate has, as well as justice for his wife and the truth behind the Institute and his own origin. The opinions of others come next, especially with his new loved ones that he's managed to find. His health and wealth are something he does try to keep up with at least to find his son or after that, continue on living. Home is on the backburner until after he discovers the truth about Shaun, the Institute, as well as himself.

His SPECIAL stats:

Strength (10), Perception (9), Endurance (4), Charisma (6), Intelligence (5), Agility (7) and Luck (5).

Main Perks include:

Strong Back, Lifegiver, Action Boy, Critical Banker, Wasteland Whisperer, Rifleman and "Science!"

Here is the template below:

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ladydeath-vanserra · 1 year ago

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tbh talking to my coworkers about going home made me realize that despite living in this stupid state and this stupid city I've felt,,, unsettled. that I can't find a place to be rooted down into and relax

and even tho I've been here for years, I've never considered this place my home. there's so much concrete and city people and people who don't share the same kind of values I do. Like. if it wasn't for the grace of several people I know living in small towns sprinkled throughout my life, I have to wonder where I'd be right now

the minute I thought about seriously moving back home, or at least *trying* to, I started to feel more settled and grounded. I've never cared about cities or clubs or a lot of super big things. I'm a homebody who likes to read and watch movies and write

the buildings are all so modernized and grey and lifeless it makes *me* feel grey and lifeless. I love the modpodged buildings knitted together with the brick roads or the gravel roads. while there's definitely a lot more queer spaces I quite literally haven't gone to any of them

I hate feeling cramped around a million people. I hate that I'm constantly hypervigilent bec I keep getting approached by strange, drunk men who hit on me or try to kiss my hand. it's so loud I always have headphones in. my district manager reeks of capitalism and military and corporations. she has the most predatory vibes I've ever felt and reminds me of a vulture

I keep thinking "I want to go home" and I've been here for almost 4 years, already. if this place hasn't shifted to feel like home yet it never will

I know people like to clown on rural areas as being boring but like. I like quiet. I like peace. I never get to know peace. I'm always afraid. I'm always lonely. I'm always sad. I live paycheck to paycheck in a ridiculously priced apartment and tbh I felt more stable in rural Iowa in my income based single bedroom apartment for people with disabilities and without a job that didn't pay more than like $150 every two weeks compared to my paycheck between 900-1100 every two weeks with a $1000+ rent I have to split with someone to even survive. I'm too disabled and mentally ill to be working 40+ hours every week. it's *killing* me

I could just set up an appointment at the damn dentist with my state insurance and STILL GET IN and here I can't??? this place is supposed to be #progressive but this capitalist hellscape won't even let me see a dentist bec "were not taking anymore state insurance patients" like what the hell

it is so much harder to get help from the medical professionals and dentists and eye doctors in the damn cities than in my rural home towns

I realized with such a stark realization that despite my family always fighting and being super problematic, I deeply, deeply miss my family. We all lost my mom who didn't want a funeral bec she didn't think anyone cared enough about her and I know we all miss her so damn much. my grandma lost her daughter and both her parents and her brother and now both of her boys live out of state. honestly I want to move close to my grandma. she's one of the only people who understands how much I miss my mom almost 10 years later.

I still can't get over the grief or trauma of watching her die in front of me and I feel like I should be able to push through it and get over it but even tho my mom Was a solid source of my trauma and issues, I know none of it was malicious and was due to her own severe trauma and she was one of my biggest support systems and I just want to go home

I'm just really, really tired and I just wanna go home and I really, really miss my mom

#personal

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boysplanetrecaps · 1 year ago

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Build Up, Episode 2: Tomboy (Hyukoh)

Welcome back to my extremely timely recaps of Build Up, the MNET vocal survival show thing! In the previous post, we covered Shall I...? and Ditto. In this one, we'll continue with the Pre-4 mission by covering the performance of Tomboy, originally by Hyukoh. Let's go!

Hyukoh is a Korean band fronted by their lead singer and songwriter, Oh Hyuk. They do sort of alt-rock stuff, and they’re pretty popular. Tomboy was a pretty big hit for them in 2017.

Sample lyrics: Sad adults always only walk backwards / You, who just passed your Terrible Twenty, look bored / Because we don’t want to be set on fire and burn quickly / We’re cheering for love… The young us / We can’t see our tree rings / Our eyes are getting blind from the bright lights

I know Oh Hyuk mainly from a song I really love by Code Kunst called Parachute, which features him. (If a song by Code Kunst “features” someone, it means that person sings the whole song.) It’s a really great song, kind of special in my opinion, so do check it out if you have a few minutes. Oh Hyuk has a gruff, textured kind of voice, quite distinctive, and very much in the vein of the voice of our leather jacket king, Lee Gwangsuk.

The judges are excited, because they like this song, as do the boys backstage, who think that the team who chose this song are well suited to it. And who is that team?

It’s Lee Gwangsuk, Park Joohee, Hwang Inhyuk, and Jo Hwanji.

The judges notice right away that Jo Hwanji is wearing a uniform. He salutes, saying “Victory!” and Eunkwang, who already did his military service, immediately returns the salute. Hwanji introduces himself as Sgt Jo Hwanji, currently serving in the Air Force Military Music Honor Battalion. I tried to look up info on this, like, does he have to appear in uniform? What the heck is a Military Music Honor Battalion? What is going on? No clue, my friends. My google skills only take me so far. If you have info to share, I’d be happy to take a look at it.

Inhyuk is wearing a sweater that appears to say “Sensitive People Fragile Club,” and honestly, same. I mean, I’m not wearing the sweater, but it’s implied.

He has a pleasant speaking voice, and says he’s looking to be the “main vocalist of Build Up”

Park Joohee says he’s the maknae (youngest) of the whole show, and everyone cooes over him a bit. He says he already got into college, and he gets some congratulations from the judges.

This part was a little confusing, so I watched it a few times before I figured it out. Some of the contestants backstage say he’s the same age as them, including Detective Donghun from A.C.E., who I know was born in 1993 and is definitely not 18! Then someone else says Year of the Rooster, and I figured it out -- if you’re born in 1993 or 2005, you’re born in the Year of the Rooster, and that makes you akin from a certain perspective. It might be like in Western culture when people say something like “oh, yeah, fellow August baby here…” It’s been my experience that people who live in cultures that celebrate Lunar New Year tend to just know what year was what animal. The owner of a little B&B I stayed at in Cambodia guessed the year I was born using a combination of my basic appearance and my Chinese zodiac sign. So yeah, the moment they knew Joohee’s age, they knew his zodiac sign and then knew if they were the same as him. I don’t claim that this kind of thing is universal amongst all people in Asian cultures, but I’ve encountered it enough times to think that it must not be unusual. Again, if you have info to share or if I got that wrong somehow, please let me know, but be nice! Thanks, friends! Thriends.

Joohee jokes a bit with the judges, and it turns out that he’s going to be going to the same college as the one that Jaehwan went to (I think). He’ll be class of ‘27, while Jaehwan is class of ‘19. The other judges call him an ammonite (fossil).

Gwangseok says hello, and everyone is surprised at how deep his speaking voice is. He introduces himself as a freelance model who wants to make people fall in love with his voice.

The judges say, “ohhhh!”

(Model?)

We get to see his modeling profile and it turns out he’s 188 cm tall, making him 6’2. The judging panel jokes that it’s not fair that he can sing when he’s that tall.

We’re reminded of his unique voice from the vocal check in, and how he got to pick first. Everyone applauded when Gwangseok chose Tomboy, as it suits his vocals. Inhyuk in 11th place was next to join, then Hwanji in 16th place, and then Joohee in 24th place, making this song one of the first songs to fill up completely.

We find out that Joohee idolizes Inhyuk from the time that Inhyuk went on I Can See Your Voice. Joohee approaches Inhyuk and tells him as much, which of course absolutely warms Inhyuk’s heart.

“REALLY?” Joohee (back to us) approaches Inhyuk as pink haired Geonu looks on.

Inhyuk interviews that there are people here who are a lot more famous than he is, so he was really touched and he wants to take care of Joohee. Inhyuk chooses Tomboy partly to be with Inhyuk, but also because that was the song he really wanted.

So how should this team with all four vocal colors distribute the parts?

Nobody wants part D, which is just “ah ah ah ah” for 25 seconds. It’s like when you do Me and Bobby McGee for karaoke and have to do two minutes of “ladedada.” But on further reflections, Gwakseong decides that the “ah” part is the core of the song, and that it might sound cool if he sings it with a scratchy voice.

A few days later, they meet up somewhere.

Left to right: Inhyuk, Joohee, Gwakseong , a pile of leaves and twigs

Aside from Hwanji, they’re all rocking sweaters. You guys, this is the show of sweaters. Inhyuk spent some time on his own to create some layered harmonies and even recorded them so they could all hear them. They practice singing together, with Inhyuk providing advice and encouragement to maknae Joohee. Throughout we do not hear Hwanji speak even once.

The performance begins.

Link for the version without reactions

LTR: Lee Gwangsuk, Park Joohee, Hwang Inhyuk, Jo Hwanji

My thoughts:

Overall, this was an excellent performance and I could imagine it being a lot of people’s absolute favorite. For whatever reason, it’s not perfectly ringing my bells and I think it comes down to taste and the song itself. This song probably relies a lot on the meaning of the lyrics and since I don’t understand them intuitively it’s not as fascinating to me. Also, it feels like it should be in a faster tempo and like someone just set it on slow. Just my take; sorry if it’s your favorite!

All four vocalists were really good and all of them sing better than I do, so please forgive me as I nitpick a bit, ok? They all did great but I have opinions. Okay!

LTR: Lee Gwangsuk, Hwang Inhyuk

In my initial write up, I wrote that Gwangseok has a unique, smokey, extremely thick kind of voice that some people might like and others might not. I like it, though I wondered if it would work well in a vocal group that required blending of voices. In this performance, I was able to see how he could fit in as a member of a group, as his voice really could blend in quite nicely. I felt a little like he was trying a tiny bit too hard on the “ahhs”, but maybe I’d feel different if I understood the lyrics and was really jiving with the emotion of the song. His belts toward the end felt a bit strained, and I think that’s his lack of training showing. He still has a really interesting, distinct voice and I could see him going far.

In my initial write up, I noted that Inhyuk had a really unique voice and thought he shouldn't have classified himself as an Allround. I liked his soft, almost gruff voice, but noticed some problems with his belts. I felt like somehow this wasn’t the best he could do and decided to reserve judgment. In this performance, his belts sounded a lot better and I think I was right, that he was capable of doing better than he did in his teaser. I also loved how he sounded in the bridge. A voice like that could go either way but I ended up really liking it, especially in that part in the bridge when he had the spotlight on him. He has a slight sharp edge to his voice that makes him not my absolute favorite among these four, but I still liked what he did a lot, and I find him personally appealing for some reason. Also I like his delivery where he seems to be almost talking, and I really like the beautiful harmonies that he arranged. Nice work, Inhyuk!

LTR: Park Joohee, Jo Hwanji

In my initial write up, I noted that Joohee had a pleasant voice with good agility, though he lacked breath support. In this performance, I really loved his full, open sound, and he ended up being easily my favorite of the four. His voice is a bit similar to Inhyuk’s but without the sharpness, so it just makes it all the more easy to listen to. I still think he needs to work on his breath support, though. Some notes of his should have been held for another half a second. He was still my favorite, though. I just love his vocal color.

In my initial write up, I said that Hwanji broke the musical actor mold by singing in a clean, full voice. I noted his varied dynamics, impeccable pitch, and power. In this performance, I didn’t love how he sounded in the opening lines. Maybe the trembling, half-voiced effect was what he was going for, but for me it sounded like a mistake, like he needed to clear his throat but didn’t have time. He seemed to be running out of breath, too. Maybe he’s not great at singing softly, since “power” is his strength. Despite that not-great opening, he was better in the rest of the song, and his harmony with the others was gorgeous throughout. It’s not easy to harmonize well, and he really did.

In fact, the harmonies overall were really lovely. At times, they didn’t quite blend dynamics as well as they could have -- I think it was Gwangseok’s fault, though I might be wrong -- but the actual notes they were singing were amazing.

If I had to pick a top tier, it’d be Joohee, and I think my bottom tier would be Hwanji, but I’m sad about it because I really loved his teaser performance. Maybe it was an off day for him or maybe he just should have picked a different song. Also, it’s not like he did badly. This would just be my least favorite of the four, not my least favorite singer of all time. I’m still looking forward to hearing what he sings next time!

In the MNET edit, the judges are shown loving everything, even Hwanji’s opening and Gwangseok’s too emphatic “ahhs”. They even show Dahee grinning. Everyone loves the performance.

When they’re done, the judges lavish praise on them. Eunkwang says that they have different vocal colors, but “the emotional line that the four of had together was aligned, so it was different but harmonious.” Baekho says that each time they changed from singer to singer, it was cathartic, hearing a different voice coming in. I know what he means -- I love how I know all of Exo’s voices and being able to say, oh, that’s Xiumin, oh, that’s Chanyeol, oh, here comes Chen, aw, it’s Kai… like that. It almost makes it boring in comparison to listen to a song that only one person sings.

Vocal Coach Guy (VCG) praises Gwangseok’s “tone that was never taught.” He was born with a tone that can express so much depth just by singing “ah.”

Vocal Coach Guy likes Gwangseok’s tone. I think? I guess? Not sure.

Solar says that Joohee sounds like a “church oppa,” with his sweet, clean voice. She also loved his smile.

Joohee, looking divine.

Solar says that VCG is also a church-oppa type, and VCG says “shalom, shalom,” which if you don’t know is Hebrew, so more appropriate for Temple than for Church, so that’s pretty funny.

Solar is so happy it’s made her cold!

Then Eunkwang points out that Inhyuk is the one who arranged all the harmonies, and everyone correctly praises him for working out such a lovely arrangement.

The judges say it’ll be difficult to pick a Top Tier, and the guys back stage seem to think it’ll be any of Gwangseok, Inhyuk, or Joohee. VCG says that he wishes that Hwanji would just do a traditional ballad, and weirdly enough, I think I agree.

Who wins top tier?

COMMERCIAL!

BACK FROM COMMERCIAL!

The judges have voted!

Baekho voted for Jo Hwanji, VCG voted for Hwang Inhyuk, and everyone else voted for Park Joohee. Ouch for Gwangseok that no one voted for him, but he did come in first in the vocal check so he can’t feel that bad.

Dahee prompts the older members to say something nice to Joohee, and they all tell him they love him. It’s cute. They leave the stage arm in arm.

Ok, so that I can keep putting in as many pictures as I want to, I’m going to just go ahead and post this now. In the next one, we’ll be covering “Something Like That.” Thanks as always for reading. You're my Valentine for sure! <3

See you in the next one!

#bpr recaps build up #mnet build up

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lingy910y · 2 years ago

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Ian and Mickey Meta Questions: Clothing

this is my moment 🙏 aka just me rambling to myself @gallavichmeta

1. When do you think the first time was that one wore the others clothes? And what feelings did they have about it?

I’m looking through gifs and it seems like the earliest occurence is during 2x01/3x11 with this grey hoodie? and my only interpretation of this is that sometime during the s2 summer, Ian left it at the dugouts after they fucked. and Mickey saw it in the corner of his closet since he also forgot to give it back, and naturally was drawn to it without realizing it’s Ian’s to help him cope with how sad he was :/

2. Mickey is the youngest brother in his family and Ian is the middle brother in his family. What feelings do they have about hand-me-down clothing?

Mickey didn’t care at all cause that’s the way life was for him in Terry’s household, sadly.

Well canonically Ian was tired of living under Lip’s shadow and he’s his only older brother, so naturally some of his clothes are his hand-me-downs. You can also see that in the show. I think that Ian didn’t rly mind this particularly, just shows how close he is with Lip y’know? and they have different styles but so similar at the same time esp Lip’s is more nerdy

3. Do you think either of them have a favourite outfit or item of clothing?

Oh I know Mickey fucking LOVES his black boat neck sleeveless tank. mans wears it all the time, like if he was in a dress up game this would be his default option. I saw a cute fanart speculating that the reason why he mostly wears sleeveless clothes esp in early seasons is bc he overheard Ian saying he esp loves a r m s in men so he cut them specifically, but I feel like he felt uncomfortable and wants to stretch his arms. we all know how he’s a man of action

On the other hand Ian is obsessed with military outfits 💀 first of all bro got the ugly buzzcut. ok sure, whatever, he changes hairstyles every season anyway. but then he was wearing his rotc uniform everywhere?? cutting it into shorts for the club? and he dared mickey to wear the camo for the gig 💀💀 he literally has a kink for it and it’s embarrassing i’m sorry. tho I’m a hypocrite cause he does look good in it, but when does he not? if a watch counts as an item of clothing tho I’m gonna say that instead

4. Do you think either of them have a least favourite item of clothing?

Can I say Mickey’s first wedding suit? Because he was yanking the bowtie when he came out of the dressing room and the whole thing was both literally and metaphorically was suffocating him. which was why it was so meaningful for him to get to choose his white suit (and other stuff in his second wedding), even if he had to straight-up take his and Ian’s by force ASDKFJL

Ian telling Mandy he didn’t want to starve himself to fit that golden thong was so :((( I think he also greatly regrets his job at the club, so all memories involving it are prob bad for him. rly wished the show didn’t just brush how he felt under the rug

5. What do you think their personal style says about them?

Well Mickey’s style screams thug (not necessarily king of the southside) that’s for sure

Ian’s fashion sense is very wack lmfao. I think it just means that he’s a silly goofy boy! Someone said "every cis gay millenial dude owns this shirt" under a gifset of his raglans 😭

6. What items of clothing hold most significance for them?

Didn’t Mickey personally say in 11x05 that he “loves this shirt” in response to the black shirt he was wearing, and the whole fandom agreed that it’s the same one that Ian wore to Mexico 🥺 MEANWHILE HE WAS WEARING THE FLANNEL?? THAT SPANS A WHOLE TIMELINE

And Ian’s EMT jacket def means a lot to him. Everytime I look at it I gain new waves of emotion so I can’t even imagine what he feels when he reminiscences during late nights TT

7. Do you think the way Mickey’s sense of style changed over time was to do with his relationship with Ian?

Yes, definitely. Says a lot that he was dirtier in the early seasons, like he never gave a fuck abt his appearance bc there were other things to focus on before Ian did. I can imagine Ian nuzzling Mickey’s shoulder during another one of their summertime fucks at the dugouts, so Mickey wanted to clean up nice for him without directly saying anything. And how overtime, he dressed more and more fashionable :D

8. Ian has worn a few different uniforms (ROTC, janitor, EMT, prisoner, fake EMT etc etc) over the course of the series, how do you think they made him feel?

I feel like the ROTC and EMT uniforms made him feel empowering, like he’s reaching his ambition of doing something with his life. Then the other ones like his stripper outfit as I’ve mentioned in 4, janitor, prison, fake EMT uniforms rly made him feel horrible. But I think he did grow to like his prison uniform after seeing Mickey in that white tank top all the time, maybe?

9. How does their emotional state affect their clothing choices?

It does, but I can’t necessarily find much apparent examples? But I like how in 3x09/ abandoned building, Mickey was wearing his sweater. I think sweaters and sadness definitely go together

10. We see Mickey wear colourful/Hawaiian shirts a couple of times, how do you think those types of clothes make him feel?

It makes him feel fun! The first time he clicks his tongue, does a little dance, and asks ian for his approval & the second time he lets out a “ooh!” He’s a cutie. I rly get emotional whenever Mickey gets to experience the little joys in life that he never rly got to express when he was younger. Then I get emotional for a different reason - he had a whole dream of laying in the sun with Ian in Mexico but he ended up doing it alone or not at all I’m fucking crying

11. Compare their first and last appearances, what do their outfits tell us about the characters?

They both dress more “maturely” in the last eps compared to the first ones :0c cargo jackets(?) !!!

#gallavichmeta

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jesseelmassalamy · 1 year ago

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❝ …. it wasn’t the people who were buried who were being punished, but those left behind. ❞

Age: 35

Gender identification: Cis male, he/him

Residential area: Downtown

Occupation: barista at The Midnight Club

Two positive traits: Intuitive & resourceful

Two negative traits: Reticent & withdrawn

Length of time in Providence Peak: 2 years

Faceclaim: Oliver Jackson Cohen

tousled dark hair, sad eyes that speak of things he cannot put words to, muscular yet agile from decades of hard training, a pack of marlboros in his pocket, an observant and intense gaze, and well worn jeans and scuffed boots

trigger warnings: drugs, addiction, alcoholism, death

Growing up in the heart of Boston as a trust fund boy who sang in the choir every weekend and had piano practice every Thursday, life was pretty bland at first for the man known as Jesse El-Massalamy. A mother who was an attorney and a father who held his place as a Judge on the stands for trials, life was smooth and life was grand. Now, they weren’t the typical trope of rich parents. You know, the ‘hire the nanny and only call three times a week’ kind? Yeah, definitely not the El-Massalamys. They also refused to spoil their children. You had to earn your trust fund to come out on top. To prove you were ‘worthy’ of sharing the family namesake and the riches such a name earned. In fact, once Sarah, his sister, was born the two siblings spent more time than not competing against one another. It was always out of pure fun. An imaginary and healthy points system to see who was ‘better’ than the other in terms of their parent’s eyes.

Jesse being the eldest you could imagine he always had a leg up on his sister. That was, until he entered high school. Jesse El-Massalamy never imagined he would fall in love. So easily and so randomly for a man who was focused on being the best of the best. Love brought you down, love ruined your path to success. After all, as Jesse grew, he saw his parents' love morph more into a deal of some sorts. As if they were together just for the pure image of the ‘American Dream’. You know, the ‘white picket fence, a few kids and a dog’ type of dream. Jesse's parents were bland. Jesse’s parents followed the route of what everyone could always expect. And so, he didn’t mean to fall in love. With a girl. With a passion that wasn’t involved with medicine or law school.

From the time Jesse could even walk, he was meant to come out on top. Earn his trust fund and the family namesake. And yet upon entering high school, things just changed. He no longer cared for the big picture. The thought of being up there with his father, or being an attorney like his mother. He hated the sight of needles, so scratch out medical school. He wasn’t lost, he just wasn’t passionate about the things he was so engrossed in as a mere child. Jesse no longer idolized the thought of being some big tough and rich man, who could make one tremble in fear at the thought of their name. Maybe it was because of the soft spot he grew for his girlfriend. Or maybe it was because he wanted to do what was right in the best way he could. And so, straight out of high school, he — well. To put it bluntly, he hit the ‘fuck it’ button.

All the colleges he applied for tossed out the window. As he fought between the thought of being a military man and going into the police academy. He tossed the options around for months before he couldn’t take the idle time anymore. Only a few months out of high school, Jesse joined the police academy. A year after that, he married the girl of his dreams.

The girl he thought was the one of his dreams. Ashlee was perfect in the ways they complimented each other. They grew with each other throughout the years of high school. Went to prom together, skipped classes to drink out in the woods. It was your typical ‘picture’ of what a high school relationship could have been. Except there was one thing Ashlee left out of the entirety of their relationship. She was an addict. Severely addicted to a drug that claimed many on the streets of Boston. Heroin. Jesse was always too engrossed in the academy and fighting his parents' distaste over his choices that he could never notice the bad days she could have. After all, Ashlee was a functioning addict. The days she could have her fix, you could hardly know a damn thing. Maybe, it was obvious and maybe Jesse was too stupid to put two and two together but it took a long while – years – before the truth was unearthed. Catapulted years into a marriage that was built on the lie of an addict.

It wasn’t the thought of her addiction that made the marriage turn rocky. It was how it was all handled. He was a few years into being a police officer, out of the academy and on the streets putting away the 'bad guys’. Her own money had run short. Her supplier had been locked up by her husband, by Jesse. And he didn’t help. Time and time again there were fights, tooth and claw, for her to get help and yet – it never came around. Instead, as ignorant as he was figuring she was too far deep, he began to help her. Pull a few strings and allow the dealer to get out of his sentence, back out on the streets. The cop that was making a name for himself as a El-Massalamy was slowly becoming tarnished by his wife’s secret addiction. In the end, he turned into some figurative pack mule. Instead of going to arrest the dealers supplying his wife’s steady downhill drop, he was the one meeting with them to help make the trade off. To help her out of horrific withdrawals.

It was what had given him a guilty conscious to this day. For one night, when he just couldn’t take it anymore. One night where the fighting was at an all time high before his nightly shift, Ashlee died. He went off on his shift and in the end she overdosed. At the age of twenty-nine, Jesse was a widower. Free of his wife’s addictions but not of the guilt ridden conscious all his decisions allowed.

The man who had grown up playing piano lessons and singing in the damn choir lost who he was. He was branded as a dirty cop. Blackmailed for all the things he had done to 'help’ his wife. Well, what he had done to think he was helping. And so, instead of fighting the fire, Jesse left the force.

The man who once had a plan for his future. To become a military man, to have kids and to grow old with his wife, finally became lost. There was no content in what had happened. Jesse El-Massalamy was guilty for her death in one way or another and yet he could never tell a soul. It ate away at him and so, he left Boston. He could no longer be in the city, surrounded by all the buddies he made on the force or by his sister who grew suspicious of Ashlee’s death. Her secrets of addiction died with her as Jesse had paid a healthy sum of money to cover it up and keep her name clean. But still, he couldn’t stay there any longer.

Jesse didn’t have a plan of where to go, all the man knew was that he needed to get away. The trust fund he had gained, years back, had accumulated in size. And so, he went. Traveled like most would when they felt they didn’t belong. He had all the money in the world, he used to be a respected member of the police force – but what could all that matter if he was no longer left with his dignity and peace of mind?

For a few years, Jesse was stationed in Italy. Drinking expensive bottles of scotch and tequila and living as a bachelor would. Blocking the thought of being a widower out of his mind. Lavish dates and women with expensive tastes were things he doted on. These were the things that Jesse El-Massalamy would normally turn his nose up at, but he was broken from his wife’s death. And so he went from shattered widower to snobbish bachelor.

Until his own addiction caught up to him. Liquor. How easily he could drink a whole bottle down to the last drop and not get sick. How he could drink so quickly without feeling woozy. Again, another place where he didn’t feel like it was home anymore. Jesse tried to run away from his addiction. From Italy to Germany, bouncing over to Switzerland and Thailand — He felt as if he could run forever. Well, for as long as his money could take him. As long as he could last under the pressure of long spouts of blackouts and spending hundreds in a night.

Finally, Jesse El-Massalamy accepted he needed help. At the ripe age of thirty-two, he made his way back to the states. In the honor of his wife’s death, he made the decision to move back home to Boston, if only to keep his promise to never leave their hometown. It was a promise he wouldn’t be able to keep given the memories that were all over the city he grew up in.

Jesse could no longer hide from his addiction. But he didn’t exactly jump right into treatment either. Upon finding a home in the heart of downtown, he made his own attempts to lay low. He wasn’t an uptight man, but he refused to return to the force of any police building. In any way or any sense. Law for him was finished. And so, he fought for many days in the sake of finding a career, or at least a hobby. He thought of dabbling in bartending or anything to help keep money flowing and keep idle minds busy. Yet it never felt right.

However, six months after settling back into Boston and just before his 33rd birthday, Jesse joined an outpatient treatment. As soon as he was out he moved across the country, settling in Providence Peak as a way to somewhat disappear again from the life he knew. He would go to meetings, talk to some counselor (if they really thought it’d help him) and do all the necessary steps it took. To be on top once more. To stop succumbing to a bottle of liquor at night. He was paradoxical in the ways he went about himself. Far too confident for his own good and much too insecure all at once. Yet, Jesse El-Massalamy wasn’t to be labeled any longer. As a widower, as an ex cop, or some stuck up trust fund boy — he was always changing. And he was just fine with that.

#providence.intro #introduction.#biography.#character study.

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