#using this phrase in my everyday life actually

[fictionadventurer]

Reasons that buying a pocket watch was an excellent life choice

Aesthetic

Seriously, so much my aesthetic that it's a crime I haven't had one before now

Helpful way to check the time without having to dig my phone out of my purse

It isn't strapped to my wrist where it can bump into things and get wet when I wash my hands

I can see if that A.A. Milne story was right about babies loving pocket watches. (Can find out for myself if baby will "Hark to the tick-tick.")

[honeytonedhottie]

beauty and brains⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🎀☕️

in this post we'll talk about how to implement continual learning into ur life and how to nurture ur intellect and ur beauty, like elle woods for example…💬🎀

MINDSET ;

first off lets take a look at ur mindset. you need to be willing to learn and if ur stubborn then ur not gonna allow urself to learn and become smarter so for that reason mindset is the perfect place to start when ur starting ur beauty and brains journey.

perspective is EVERYTHING when it comes to learning. if u have the belief that "i hate math so much, im so not good at it etc etc" you're already setting urself up for failure. remember that we are in charge of our own learning.

figure out the sources of ur limiting beliefs about urself and challenge them. ask urself "why do i think im bad at math (or any other subject)" and the answers that u give urself, CHALLENGE them.

UNDERSTAND THAT ;

before we go any further understand that no subject is too complicated to learn and if ur experiencing that then ur learning it the wrong way…💬🎀

if ur having a hard time understanding a subject in school because of the way ur teacher explains it, ask another teacher at ur school and if that doesn't work turn to online resources OR just ask chat gpt. i ask chat gpt to help me break down math problems and explain how to do them and it works rly good for me.

READING ;

from my own experience i feel like reading is so so important. bcuz reading helps u to expand ur vocabulary and improves comprehension and so much more. personally i love to read so this isnt hard for me to do but if u originally dont like to read here are some ways to romanticize reading.

♡ start with topics/genres that u love

♡ set small goals (like reading for 5-10 minutes a day) and then building upon those goals

♡ experiment with physical books, e-books etc to figure out what u like best

WHAT U WATCH ;

i watch a lot of discussion based youtube videos, and video essays, documentaries etc and i have learned so much from them and they're actually one of my favorite ways to learn things. so i highly recommend watching some. watching things like this is so important because they provide a deeper understanding of real-world issues, cultures, and events that we might not encounter in our daily lives.

HOW TO UNDERSTAND ;

understanding what u read and what u learn is so so important. the way i make sure that i understand what im learning is through writing papers. writing papers about things that interest me or things that i learn has helped me to retain what i learn instead of forgetting it all.

another key thing to remember is PRACTICE. if u dont practice what u learn you'll literally forget it. use everything that u learn and if u can't physically use it, imagine urself using it.

MAKE IT A GAME ;

this is where the beauty aspect of the phrase "beauty and brains" comes into play. make learning like a GAME. i think thats how u get smart the best. just implement it into ur daily life.

for example if u have a habit of watching an episode of ur favorite show a day (or multiple) between episodes read for x amount of time. if u go for a run everyday listen to an audio book whilst running. think of that scene in the movie legally blonde where elle was reading her textbook while working out.

[croquis-el]

I have a question: Is Blackquill still a chuuni without the localization? Because in it. You know. He's basically Just Some Guy™️ [British] [weeaboo] cosplaying a Samurai. But I know in the original, he's actually a ronin, and. I mean. Is it still campy? How much? More or less? Is he still cold hammin' it up over there? "Mortal coil" and all that.

Jin Yugami - a samurai or a dramatic actor?

First of all, I apologize very much for such a long answer! At first I wanted to write a kilometer-long answer, but then I decided to collect the main points and make something like a short "review". There is a lot to say about him in detail, there are sooo many idioms and archaisms in his speech that you can analyze every sentence, and one day I will finish writing about him and there will be a long post.

But for now I will answer like this: prosecutor Yugami (Simon Blackquill), in addition to being an amazing actor (those who have completed the plot know), is also a fan of his (Japanese) and samurai culture. He does not cosplay a ronin, he is a ronin.

Let's go through the examples.

すまねェな、姉貴。俺のために、そんなことまでさせちまった。

sumane~ena, aneki. Ore no tame ni, son'na koto made sa se chimatta.

I'm sorry, sis. I made you go through all that for me.

姉貴 (aneki) is a rather informal and old-fashioned way of addressing an older woman.

師匠を殺したのはこの俺だ。

今さら････くつがえせると思うなよ。

I'm the one who killed my master.

Don't think you can change your mind now.

He refers to Kokone's mother as 師匠 (shishō)

This is a master in traditional arts, crafts, martial arts, or fields that require deep practice and the transmission of knowledge from one generation to the next.

The student (弟子 - deshi) often spends a lot of time with the master, learning not only the technique but also the way of life, philosophy. It is often a hand-to-hand, "heart-to-heart" transfer. The role of the shisho can be almost paternal/maternal.

ずいぶんな三文芝居じゃァねェか。

ヘソで風呂が沸いちまわァ。

That's a pretty cheap peace of theatre. I'm shocked.

三文芝居 (sanmon shibai) literally "three-coin performance", which means "cheap performance", "pathetic production", "farce".

ヘソで風炉が沸いちまわァ。

This is an idiom that literally means "the furnace will boil from my belly button", which is an exaggeration expressing extreme surprise, absurdity, or ridicule. It is equivalent to "That's absurd" or "I'm shocked (in a sarcastic way)". This idiom is rarely used in everyday speech.

そして、犯行に及んだのさァ。

ム��の空く思いだったよ。

soshite, hankō ni oyonda no sa ~a. Mune no aku omoidatta yo.

And then me committed the crime. It was heartbreaking.

ムネの空く思いだったよ

If you translate it literally, it means:

"It was a devastating feeling in my chest."

A very dramatic phrase.

････早いとこ、地獄で

羽根を伸ばさせちゃァくれねェかい。

Hayamero, jigoku de hane o nobasasechaa kurenee kai

Can't you just let me spread my wings in hell as soon as possible?

It sounds very ominous and, at the same time, very sarcastic. Like, hurry up, I'm guilty, there's no need to look for anything else, everyone believes in it!

___________________________________________

In addition, Yugami's design was inspired by the 47 Ronin (also known as the Akō incident (赤穂事件) or Akō vendetta), who wore black and white. But, to fit it into modern Japan, the Meiji era fashion was used as a basis.

Also, we remember that he is fond of rakugo (he even tested Nayuta's competence in this matter), and traditional cuisine, which he treats with great reverence.

___________________________________________

Let's sum it up: prosecutor Yugami literally represents traditional Japanese culture and understands it very well. This is not a farce (even Naruhodo, who is well versed in traditional art and picks on incorrect pronunciation, does not use so many idioms in his speech, and his speechis very polite), but one of the foundations of his life.

I hope I have satisfied your request. If I have made a mistake somewhere - feel free to correct me.

[keykoso]

Formula 1 drivers as High School Teachers

Part 2 of my yearbook series for my f1 spiderman au.

The School Teachers and Staff

Sebastian Vettel: His office is decorated full of random vintage posters, model cars and plants. If a students comes to him he tells a lot of funny and random side stories to calm them down. Always brings homemade baked goods because that's how his mother raised him. Runs the environmental club and organizes clean-up days and tree planting events so that students never forget why it is important to look out for or planet.

Always wears slightly rumpled button-down shirts and bikes to school everyday. Students love him and feel safe with him. They call him sunshine or the bee keeper. In the staff room Seb drinks herbal tea and has a reusable bamboo cup while Carlos shows up with a large coffee and a protein bar. Also Carlos constantly borrows Seb’s pens and never returns them, which has led to a very passive-aggressive post-it note war.

Carlos Sainz: If you know that one photo of Carlos with his nose piercing, you know what I'm talking about. Also works with Sebastian helping out with the kids, because he believes that teachers can shape kids lives. He also takes part in the student council, he’s the advisor who actually cares. Helps the students organize dances, fundraisers, and spirit weeks. Loves planning charity soccer tournaments through the Student Council and is extremely competitive when playing against students. As the Spanish teacher he doesn't understand what Lando is doing in his class because Lando absolutely sucks at it. Carlos has a stick rule - no English during his lesson — he gets offended if you slip up "¿Inglés? ¡No, por favor!"

Toto Wolff: The school principal, drives a mercedes and has a designated parking spot that no one dears to use. One unfortunate kid parked his car at Totos sport and got called to the principals office, after that everyone knew what would happen if you dare to poke the bear. Nobody knows if Kimi is his son of what but everyone knows that Toto has a soft spot for him and that Kimi can get away with a lot of things.

Well dressed always a tailored suit, never a hair out of place. Introduced a "Student Performance Board" where achievements — academic, sports, arts — are celebrated publicly. The teachers have an ongoing inside joke where they fake a "team radio" in staff meetings "Toto, we can't keep doing these Monday staff meetings." Has a very specific "angry walk" down the hallway — when students hear his fast, heavy footsteps, they immediately sit up straighter.

George Russell: Absolutely loves his job. Students avoid him at all cost. If he sees Lando carrying his skateboard shouts to “keep that skateboard off the ground”. Loves organizing assemblies and drills. Once a month makes a powerpoint presentations about school safety, everyone hates that time of the month. Students sometimes make bingo cards for "phrases George will definitely say at the next assembly," like: "Punctuality is key to success!" and "Excellence is a habit!". George acts like Toto’s right-hand man, trying to be super serious, but Seb and Carlos constantly mess with him — switching his clipboard with joke notes or sneaking memes into his official emails.

Alex Albon: neighbors with George, always getting a ride to school from him. Has way too many pets, the students are lost how everyone off his pets fit in his house. Always carries a lint roller with him because of the pet hair. He likes to wear sneakers, comfy sweaters and his sleeves always pushed up. Sometimes Alex likes to wears silly socks with ducks or pizza on them. Loves making bad math puns "Without geometry, life is pointless." cue groans. George tries to get Alex to make math club more intense but Alex’s version of "training" is math games and pizza nights. Secretly keeps a wall of anonymous student thank-you notes inside his desk drawer for days he feels stressed.

Daniel Ricciardo: Daniel is the PE teacher, he is the most fun teacher. Always joking around and pranking other students. Somehow has way too much energy at 8:00 AM and confuses everyone "Did you...have like 3 Red Bulls, Mr. Ricciardo??". Wears "motivational" shirts like "Pain Now, Pizza Later" or "Sprint Now, Complain Later."

If a kid falls dramatically during an activity, he also falls dramatically on purpose to make them laugh and not feel embarrassed. Keeps an eye out for the kids who aren’t super athletic and makes sure they feel included, gives them "special missions" like being the ultimate referee or official team hype-person. Toto thinks Daniel’s classes are "too chaotic" but can’t deny the students LOVE him. George once tried to join a PE class to "show proper athletic form" and immediately lost a footrace to a 7th grader. Daniel never lets him forget it.

A bit of backstory back in his days he was a promising boxing star however because of an injury he missed out on a final competition his coach Horner was absolutely devastated. Horner and Daniel had a falling out and they parted their ways. Later Daniel became a teacher and he noticed Max. Max is a complexed teen, anger issues and other problems. Because of that Daniel recommended boxing to let out all off that builded up frustration. After some time Daniel noticed that Max is natural and gave Horners number. Although Daniel doesn't speak to Horner, he knows that Max would reach higher achievements at under Horners strict training.

Lewis Hamilton: Walks into class every day like he's on a red carpet, wearing the sharpest, trendiest fits — streetwear meets academia. Schools fashion icon. you can spot him a mile away with his colorfull outfits. Students literally wait to see what he's wearing each day. "Mr. Hamilton’s fit check coming in 3...2...1..."

Thinks outside the box — instead of boring book reports, he has students make podcasts, spoken word pieces, or music playlists inspired by the books. Runs open-mic poetry nights at school where he sometimes reads too and everyone loses their minds because he's SO good. Writes the most thoughtful comments on essays.

Seb and Lewis occasionally team up for "Social Justice Week" — inspiring students to think big and take action.

Daniel once pranked Lewis by replacing his designer notebook with a SpongeBob one. Lewis actually used it proudly

One time somebody put an onion on his desk and he couldn't start the lesson so Oscar removed it. He was very great full for the help. Because no one came forward the whole class got detention. Has beef with the school principal Toto, the students are lost why that is, Lewis never clarified why that is.

Fernando Alonso: Dr. Octopus of my au, the mad scientist that started okay but over time his obsession with science made him go mad. Fernando suspects that Oscar is Spiderman. However, to get closer to Oscar he makes Lando work for his lab. Lando takes that opportunity because he needs the extra curricular activitie to pass his Science exam. Alonso gives off chill teacher vibes. If there is a school fight he will be sipping tea and looking at the kids from his classroom. Unbothered queen.

Pierre Gasly: some clarification, Pierre went to Turkey to get a hair transplant because he was going bald at the age of 29 years old. The sassy queen. If the students are talking about some tea he will pause his lesson to listen to them. The students know this and always do it intentionally. Constantly says, "Come on, it’s easy!" even when it's definitely not. Runs the French Club, where 70% of the time is just watching French movies and laughing at his own dramatic commentary.

Nico Hulkenbern and Kevin Magnussent: pretty much self explanatory all the facts are written down, don't have anything more to add.

[anonzentimes]

Zen!!! Did you see Ogata's comment about Nagito's birthday on X? I personally found it very touching.😭💖:

You may have already seen it, but just in case, here’s my English translation:

——————

W-What age did he turn now?()

lol

HAPPY BIRTHDAY!! There were a few characters that were hard to bring to life, but for me, he was by far the hardest. (lol But that's exactly why he became such a truly one-of-a-kind person. I'm grateful for that.

I'm glad I met you and got to become you. I hope we can stay connected from here on, too.

——————

Some parts of the original text require additional explanation due to cultural nuances, so I'll add some notes:

Leaving brackets empty like that is a kind of self-deprecating comment often used by otaku. (Ogata is on good terms with people involved in anime production, so she often uses otaku slang in her everyday writing.) In this case, she knows it’s kind of tacky to point out how old a game character would be, but she says it anyway, and then kind of teases herself like, “Don't say that.”

Similarly, writing a bracket only on the left side also carries a self-deprecating nuance.

In the original text, she refers to Nagito as “アレな人” ("that person"), but I skipped translating it directly because it’s tricky to capture the nuance. “アレな人” is a vague expression often used to soften something that might sound negative. I think she’s probably referring to Nagito’s crazy or extreme side. But since she also says she's grateful for it, she might be pointing to his unexpectedly appealing traits as well. It's also possible she chose that wording to avoid spoilers. In any case, it’s deliberately ambiguous!

The last phrase, “これからも宜しくね,” is very difficult to translate. “Yoroshiku” is a word deeply rooted in Japanese culture and is used in a variety of situations, so there’s no direct English equivalent. It’s generally used to express a desire to continue a relationship. I interpreted it as Ogata conveying her hope to stay connected with Nagito and continue bringing him to life.

Sorry for the long explanation! I just wanted to share how happy I was that she commented as if she were sending her message directly to Nagito.

Just recently, during a YouTube Live stream right before the release of The Hundred Line, Kodaka showed some merch featuring characters Ogata has voiced, but Ogata didn’t say much about the characters themselves. It made me feel a little sad (only a little, though!). So I was really happy when Ogata mentioned Nagito’s birthday.

(You can see the scene in the following archived video, around 1:20:43: https://www.youtube.com/live/D9yr9HQpzdg?si=JBhuNNNuBf-TRdYC&t=4843)

Thanks for reading this long message! I hope you found it enjoyable!

Thank you so much Asaka, I love when you send me messages so much! I actually happened to not see this as I am trying to use twitter less so I’m very grateful. To clarify, most Everybody In English refers to “X” as “Twitter” regardless of it being renamed Lol. Anyways, I’m so glad you not only showed me, but provided a translation for me as well! You’ve made me so happy. I enjoyed reading it a lot! 💗💗💗💗💗

[haru-dipthong]

Out of curiosity, what else would you define as "anime English" stemming from literal translations? I grew up with anime, so I probably don't even recognize it at this point. Obviously I had original works and socialization for my English, but I never really thought about it until I came across your RGU retranslation project.

It’s hard to pinpoint a precise set of qualities of what I see as anime english. I think it’s mainly characterised by having things phrased in a way that is unusual for native english speaking television, as well as the presence of certain uncommon english words.

The unusual phrasing comes about from translating individual words more than the intended meaning. Japanese speakers phrase things in completely different ways to what is “common sense” in English. For example, passive voice is used often in Japanese — the most normal way to say “He punched me!” would actually be あいつに殴られた！ which means “(I) was punched by him”. This is a simplistic example to illustrate a point, but hopefully this shows how the most common way to say something in English is often quite different to the most common way to say something in Japanese. When you translate Japanese, you shouldn’t try to preserve the original phrasing unless it’s important, because it will not carry the same sound or give the same impression when converted to English.

Translation is not just about the surface level meanings of the words or sentences, but also about the impression the sentence gives you (does it sound formal? Casual? Pretentious? Intentionally awkward?). In sentences where the impression is “natural, everyday conversation” you need to rephrase the sentence in a way that will be a natural, everyday phrasing in English, which may be drastically different from the Japanese.

As for the uncommon english words, those are a bit easier to specify.

告白する：“Confess (your love)” instead of “tell them how you feel” or “ask them out”.

“You’re an eyesore” instead of “you make me sick” or “you’re pathetic” or any number of other insults.

あいつ元気だな：“They’re energetic” or “they’re lively” instead of “they’re a handful”, “they’re a bit much”, or “they’re full of energy”.

面倒くさい：“It’s a bother” or “What a bother” instead of “I can’t be bothered” or “I don’t wanna”.

先輩・後輩：”Upperclassman/lowerclassman” instead of “older kid/younger kid” or “in the grade above/below”. I have NEVER in my entire life heard the word upperclassman used outside of anime subtitles.

There are many many more, but that’s all I could think of off the top of my head. I think the reason these words get used is partly because they’re the most direct literal translation of the individual word (yet no consideration goes into the vibe of the word!). Another part of the reason is that these words have become common to see in anime translations, which establishes a precedent for translators who are time-crunched (or just not very good) to take the easy option and use these words. This reinforces the usage of these words in anime translations, which distances anime english from other dialects of english and gives it a unique sound.

You can see previous posts about this here:

Jun 14, 2023: Examples of how translating word-by-word leads to awkward phrasing

Oct 15, 2023: A discussion about anime english as its own dialect

[lucystark12]

oh good god please stop

i propose an alternative...

lets look at the context of these three scenes, shall we?

scene 1: max and lucas

this is lucas referring to max's depression and her distancing herself from the party as a result. this is something very tangible and real that could be found in a real life conversation between two people in a relationship. the context of this would make sense if you put it in any other kind of movie. in scene one, lucas is displaying his care for max as an individual and for her feelings. he is there for her in her everyday emotional pursuits.

scene 2: mike and el

this happens during the monologue when mike is quite literally using his words and the fact that he is physically there for her to help her save the world. TO. HELP. HER. SAVE. THE. WORLD. mike infact wasn't there- nor does he clearly have any desire to be- for her throughout the nine months where they were on the opposite sides of the country. he literally is only able to have this conversation (if you could even call it that) with her when THE WORLD IS ENDING. hello.

scene 3: steve and nancy

once again- DIRE CIRCUMSTANCES. nancy was literally just vecna'd. she was just put into a trance by vecna, prompting steve to say this to her. listen to urself.

the fact that the two debatable couples of the trio are only saying this to each other in something so absurd as a supernatural monster attacking the girl in said scenario whereas lucas and max are having a very real and tangible conversation about every day issues- not lucas being there for her specifically because she's dying, but because he cares about her and her feelings- should say it all.

i'd also like to add the fact that steve/mike say this to nancy/el when they're practically incapacitated and can't respond. el can't because she's fighting vecna, and nancy is calming down from coming out of a vecna trance. they can't respond. they can't say there piece. max was able to do that in her conversation with lucas because they are in a healthy relationship where both sides of the equation are valued. if this phrase is to mean anything, it's not a stretch to assume that nancy and el's lack of ability to voice their thoughts is a direct metaphor for the fact that their voices aren't/weren't being heard in the relationship with the other person.

my last point: by this logic... WHERE IS JOPPER? jopper is the only couple that, as of now, is basically 100% canon. there's a chance the love triangles could go the other way and a chance max won't wake up. if this is "code for endgame couples" then where is the show's only couple that's actually going to be endgame for sure?

[todayisdeadinside]

louis' queer expression is actually really similar to mine. and that might confuse some people, because i appear very obviously and loudly out, whereas a lot of people percieve louis as more subtle. but i think its a matter of perspective, as well as a matter of circumstance.

louis is bound by contracts to stay in the closet. he cant outright say "im gay and in a longterm relationship with a man" but otherwise? hes pretty casually queer as much as hes allowed to be.

perspective comes into play with people comparing his queer expression to harry's queer expression. harry leans more into expressing his queerness through femininity, in various forms. his expression is more clockable to cishets, he doesnt blend into heteronormative society very easily.

louis on the other hand, shows his queerness without as much femininity. i think thats the key disconnect im noticing in how people percieve his expression- they are quantifying queer expression by how outwardly feminine someone acts. louis is loudly and openly queer (as much as his contracts allow), hes just not as blatantly feminine as harry.

this is where ive noticed that his expression is similar to mine. i express my queerness in a casual and often more masculine way, if that makes sense. im very loud and proud, but im not feminine. if we take away the fact that im trans, as my transness is usually what gets me clocked as queer, most cishets on the street probably wouldnt pick up on my queerness. but thats not because im fearful or hidden about it by any means. its just not obvious to cishet people whos only means of identifying queerness is via stereotypes or blatant tells. most cishet people dont understand and cant pick up on casual everyday queerness, because theyre only familiar with the most exaggerated and blatant forms of it. neither are better or worse, but one is more obviously "different" to heteronormative masses.

i think thats my central point here. louis doesnt express his queerness is a stereotypical or easy to clock way. hes just. queer. and existing. as a man. and thats exactly how i express my queerness. but because im allowed to say the words "i am gay" and he isnt, the same person can have the perception of "micah is loud" vs. "louis is quiet", when in fact we express our queerness quite similarly in day to day life.

and this isnt to diminish harry's expression of queerness, not at all. his expression is equally as valid and genuine, but its just different to louis', and THAT dichotomy is a huge part of peoples misconceptions about louis' queer expression, i think. they see harry, someone who is outwardly feminine, someone who has waved rainbow flags on stage, someone who has worn gay sex tshirts, and they say "thats a loud open queer person." then in comparison, they see louis, who isnt as outwardly feminine, who is just a typical unassuming guy who is also gay, and they jump to the incorrect conclusion of "that is a fearful hidden queer person."

this isnt the whole picture of course. theres more i havent touched on like management using louis to do hard larry denials, which has contributed to the fandoms perception, for one thing. but i think this is something i wanted to point out, because i noticed how similar mine and louis' queer expressions are, and how small aspects like saying the phrase "i am gay" and my transness can drastically affect whether the same behaviors and same expressions will be percieved as "loud" or "quiet."

(and of course, im heavily touching on the way cishets tend to expect queer people to put on a show for them, how casual everyday queerness isnt "enough", and how people feel owed clockable visibility lest they accuse someone of being a coward. some people are openly gay and also not easily clockable as gay, these things can coexist.)

[koiiiji]

windbreaker characters & their possible love trope (part 1)

warnings : no in general, maybe a ooc, but its my point of view, fluff

recommend : to turn on Lana Del Ray - West Coast

୭🧷✧˚. ᵎᵎ 🎀

Dom - arranged marrige. we take into account the fact that Dom is the heir of the yakuza. His father had long dreamed of the idea of uniting the two clans to expand the business, strengthen the position, and in general he was very close with the head of another clan, you know the type of male friendship when they brag about who has the coolest car and everything like that. (for about the same reason, you and Dom have an age difference of a couple of months) In general, when you were born, your fathers did not immediately decide that this would be a planned marriage, they still wanted freedom of choice for their children, but the two old men were too fascinated when you and Dom played together in the sandbox, or you two shared toys, and overall you got along great as babies. But as the years passed, interests changed, and from about 2-3 grades you began to have a "crisis in relationships", Dom were more interested in the "boyish" things, you in turn discovered the Internet and the charms of fictional characters (real footage of all of us). Therefore, your communication has gone from about infantile sympathy to childish antipathy when boys say "eeew girls, im not interested in them" and to the complete cessation of communication over the years. Well, your fathers also almost lost hope, trying to try on two fifth graders at holiday feasts, but everything ended up making faces at each other, and Dom’s first showed middle finger and yours first obscene phrases in response to him (later you both received a cradle from your parents) but the decision had already been made, and so everyone decided to just wait.

In fact, everything happened spontaneously. As it happens, girls grow faster, and there were no exceptions with you. So since you saw each other less often, Dom did not immediately recognize you, and of course refused to admit to himself that he liked you, and he decided to shove this sympathy away. A couple more years have passed, and you again super accidentally (no) met at one of your parents' clubs. This time it was your turn not to recognize Dom. And when you realized in the morning whose house you were in, you were shocked. So it tooks you two another 1-2 years to actually accept that planned things needed to be done and the idea of marriage in the first place wasn’t that bad.

Owen - forbidden love/ rivals/ competitors. While you honestly believed that your boiling hate for each other was mutual, Owen found it quite cute and intriguing how each time you trying to compete with him and how mad you get if you lose or if he jokingly flirts with you. Of course, he found you quite an interesting opponent, but you attracted him more as a girl, although it was still difficult because of your rival teams, and as Camila once told him when she noticed how he was staring at you at another training session, where he came intentionally before the rest of the Light Cavalry participants, "This won't be good for the image of our team." Usually you see him in training center, when your team finishes training, or when you wait for Light Cavalry to finish, or on the competitions and it always ends with your threatenings to his life or his bike. Of course you didn’t mean it so serious, it was kinda like tradition - he always so nice and jokes around while you all loud and screaming at him for his flirting lines.

Usually, you two never see each other somewhere in the city or on the streets, apparently you lived in different areas and everyday affairs were too different from each other, but somehow, now, almost at 11 pm, you look at each other in surprise, standing in the park, where both of you came to practice and free your heads from burdened thoughts. Owen wanted to break the awkward silence by greeting you, but you beat him to it by sternly asking “What are you doing here?” He smiled softly and running his hand through his hair, as he replied “I came here just to clear my head before sleep, shortcake. I hadn’t any intentions to interrupt you.” And looking up at you again, he smiled so sweetly, in his usual manner. You clicked irritably and went to meet him, “Then, since you're already here, let's have a race, and the loser is looking for another park, deal?” Again, she frowned so sweetly at her eyebrows, just the very seriousness - Owen thought to himself looking down at you from his height. Like all the smartest, the idea was certainly not bad, you even thought at the moment that you were about to win, because the agreed finish was already around the corner, when suddenly Owen jumped out from behind you and did a risky trick that allowed him to get ahead. But unfortunately, either out of surprise or confusion, you lost control and collapsed almost at the finish line. Your speed was decent, and your knees, shoulders and arms had a hard time now, all bleeding. Slowly rising from the ground, you felt such resentment and at the same time anger, either at yourself or at Owen. And all such a seething feeling of resentment, because of such a small mistake, to lose at the very finish, overwhelmed you with your head, and flowed out with tears from your eyes. You sat down by your fallen bike, hugged your bleeding knees and buried your forehead in them letting yourself cry. Suddenly you felt someone stroking your head and sitting down next to you, putting his hands on your shoulders. Looking up, as you expected, you saw Owen, and shrugged your shoulders and squeal at him “Get the fuck away from me! I don’t need your pity and help!” “Hey, hey, easy shortcake, im not a monster to let girl, who is also injured, be alone in park at night.” He tried to take you by the shoulders again. “I said get away!” You clearly didn’t planned to stop crying, and Owen understood that you’ll have a tantrum in a moment, so he decided to ignore your screams and pulled you closer, already hugging you completely. Of course, you didn't appreciate this gesture, you started pounding him in the chest with your fists, shouting for him to let go, for you to try again, that this time you would definitely defeat him and in general how much you dislike him. And Owen just held you tight, and let your screams and crying be drowned out in his sweater. After a couple of minutes, you were just crying into his chest while he pulled you closer, sat you down between his legs and just gently stroked your back.

When you finally calmed down and raised your tear-stained, red eyes to him, Owen gently put his hand on your cheek and quietly asked, “Well, have you calmed down? Will you let me help you now, shortcake?” taking a confused look away from him and blushing, you said, “If anyone finds out about this, you're finished, got it?” Owen laughed loudly and pulled you closer to him, and dropping his free hand on your cheek, gently kissed you.

Harry - hate/love or sunny/grumpy. Even ignoring the fact that you’ve been in the same team, he somehow never liked you. Honestly, he didnt even know the reason. You had such a bright personality, always nice to people around and guys in team,but still defended your interests and borders when it was necessary. Harry just couldn’t stand you. In his eyes you were quite ideal, he even accepted that you were kinda powerful at cycling. But most blood boiling fact about you were that Harry knew perfectly - he had a thing for you, but he decided for himself to hide it under mask of indifference and disinterest, because come on, feelings make you weak (such a men moment)

But the other thing about you that Harry absolutely couldn’t stand - is your tears. He saw it only twice, once when it was your first year with the Light Cavalry, the team came to wish you a happy birthday right at 12 a.m., and you burst into tears from the joy and sweetness of this act of attention. And the other time was when Harry himself brought you to tears, because you chewed his brains all day. He think that sometimes you have a bad habit activated, walking around and teasing him all day, offering to compete in something, and just dripping on his brain, because you probably have a pleasure to bring him to a white heat. And when he couldn't stand it one more time, he turned sharply at you and barked - "Are you a complete idiot? I think I told you to fuck off from me, leave me alone and go fuck someone else's brains out. How many times can I tell you, I don't intend to compete with someone like you," - and Harry took care to squeeze the word "like" like poison into your mind. And fortunately for him, as he convinced himself, you stopped bothering him after that time and resorted to communicating with him only in the most necessary cases. So for the first few days he liked how you avoided him, but after a week and a half of your absence from his daily life, he began to feel sad and guilty for being harsh with you... But wasn’t it your own fault!? That's right, it was your fault. But didn't he like your attention? Wasn't he warmed by the rays of your warmth?.. Damn, all these thoughts were difficult for Harry, and he did it easier - he left training earlier, stopped by the store on the way, bought a random gift that reminded him of you, went to your house and waited for you at the entrance to the house. To say less, you were shocked when you saw him near the building were you live, but decided to act all cool and just to pass by. He didn’t let you. Harry grabbed your elbow, but you tried to pull away, he turned you around to face him and grabbed your other elbow. “Let me go, you creep!!” You could feel how tears forming in your eyes. You didn’t understand why he even came here, he supposed to be in other place, he supposed to hate you, he supposed… “For the fuck sake just shut up and take it.” He handed you a gift. You were confused and looked up at him with an obvious question “why?” in your pretty eyes. Harry clicked tongue, left your elbows and started to walk away. When you softly mumbled “Thank you” he turned around and quickly closing the distance, he awkwardly hugged you. For the first few seconds you freaked out, but gave up and hugged him back and mumbled "You idiot" in his hoodie. Harry chuckled at your comment and squeezed your back harder "At least im not a crybaby as someone". He got a reminder that you can kick his knees pretty hard.

Hwangyeon - school crush. You were quite popular girl from his class - moderately smart, kind, but not enough to take advantage of your kindness, beautiful and friendly person in general. The fact that Hwang tried to get your attention by his money flex, “cool” - as he thought - actions towards other people in school, where so obvious, as the fact that he liked you. But you weren’t impressed by his shitty personality and usually you treated him coldly or mocked him about he is trying to assert himself at the expense of others. Was he mad at you for that? No, of course, he melted like butter in a hot frying pan from every second of your attention, and bragging to his boys that you two had “conversation”.

Actually his friends, everyone around and mainly Sangho were tired of Hwang’s whinings at home and he told him what to do. So here he is, standing in doors of your class begging you to help him with his english class. Since he asked you nicely and promised not to mock students as long as you help him, you agreed to tutor him for some topics that he couldn’t understand. So with time you two became a little bit closer and you even been in his place and know Hwang’s siblings. (both of them thought that he is paying you to be his friend*) In the midst of one of these preparations Hwangyeon was whining about how he didn’t understand anything and probably won’t pass this exam. You hated the fact that he was giving up fast and easy, but luckily you knew how to motivate this guy. In a second, you grabbed his cheeks with both hands, turned his head towards you and said “Listen, we’ve been preparing for this for so long and you gonna drop everything because of small misunderstanding? I already wanted to take you out for ice cream if you wrote this test better than the guy who sits behind me at school, but since you've already given up, well, I guess i’ll have to go with him instead.” you said slowly letting his cheeks go. Hwang took your hand, to let it stay on his cheek and rise his eyes up on you and with dead serious eyes muttered “If my score will be higher than 75%, we will go for that ice cream.” You smiled at him and said that it is deal.

Spoiler : his score was 68% his friends and you laughed at him for his bragging before exam, but you still took him to that ice cream shop and kissed his cheek for a good bye.

*bonus

its been quite long preparation session for english final exam before summer weekends, so you decided to continue at Hwang’s place. it wasn’t your first time visiting his place, maybe third or fourth, so his siblings already knew you, when you enter the house. you greeted everyone, warned them that you would be preparing for the exam and went to Hwang’s room. after few hours of studying you were tired of punching and shouting at your friend so you left the room for glass of juice and in the dim light of the kitchen you met Sangho with his laptop and glass of something probably alcoholic. you stare at each other for a second and you awkwardly announced that you came for pack of juice that two of you left in fridge. Sangho mumbled something softly and turned back to his laptop, when you were about to leave the room he raised his eyes from laptop again and asked in serious voice “did he pay you?”

you froze in place you were standing and on stiff legs, turning to him. “mhmm?”

“did my brother pay you to pretend to be his friend or whatever you two are?”

“n-no? he just asked me for help, t-that’s why im here!” he grunted something like okay and went back to his laptop. when door after you closed, Aria got out from behind the sofa and held out her hand to her brother. Sangho, in turn, pulled a banknote out of his pocket and gave it to his sister without a word.

[dollishmehrayan]

random as ever, but do you have any tips for learning new languages?

Hii, okay so I gathered a list for you to learn but I definitely know one thing is that all the languages I know became easier for me because I surrounded myself with people who speak it too and just thought that I would share that first because it takes me about 9 months to fluently master pronunciation + speaking + writing and etc and all the languages I listed I have no problem speaking today so yeah , okay so here’s my list!

1. Immerse Yourself in the Language

Surround yourself with the language through movies, music, and TV shows and like if that specific language country has memes so like any social media app changes your algorithm yk?

Change your phone, apps, and social media settings to the language you're learning, like for me my whole phone is in dutch too from back when I was learning but I’m luckily now highly fluent in Dutch but I’m trying to navigate slang words though

Try to think or talk to yourself in that language during the day, like try to talk to yourself in that language in your mind or try to read / pronounce whatever language you want

2. Practice Daily (Consistency is Keyy)

Dedicate at least 15–30 minutes daily to learning or practicing at your desk or just anywhere (I would recommend 30 minutes a day)

Use language teachers but I would NOT recommend duolingo even though it could be used as a small fun activity for you since you’ll learn some small words

Focus on speaking, listening, reading, and writing in equal measure so you don’t get stuck on only being able to write the language or like speak it

3. Learn Vocabulary First

Start with the most common words and phrases (basic greetings, numbers, and survival words, 1,2,3,) just etc

Use flashcards too but you can always find someone to like help you while they hold whatever you wrote while you try to memorize it

Label everyday objects in your brain to your specific language

4. Focus on Practical Phrases

Learn phrases you would actually use in daily life not just very formal like google translate does but instead maybe a bit of slang && casual stuff for everyday and etc

Practice introducing yourself, ordering food, or asking for directions even if you aren’t in that country

5. Don’t Be Afraid to Speak

Even if you're a beginner, try to speak the language early on even though you might be embarrassed slightly it’s okay and it just means the more progress

Practice with language exchange partners or tutors online

6. Grammar Isn’t Everything at First

Focus on getting your point across rather than being perfect but later on try to fix your grammar as you go on yk what I mean?

Learn grammar in small doses; prioritize understanding sentence structure basics and being able to understand

7. Surround Yourself with Native Speakers

Join language meetups or local groups or like pen pals or online friends

Watch native speakers' content on platforms like YouTube or social media watch those specific people from certain country you want to speak its language

Use social media to follow creators in the target language too

8. Make it enjoyable

Learn with activities you enjoy

Listen to music and look up lyrics of specific song

Watch dubbed versions of your favorite shows or cartoons in that language (try to watch educational shows in that specific language)

Play games or read books in the target language

9. Practice Listening Early

Listen to podcasts or audio content designed for learners

Pay attention to pronunciation and intonation even if you don’t understand everything yet but it will help later

10. Use a Notebook or Journal

Write down words, phrases, and grammar rules you learn in your notebook daily

Practice writing short sentences or stories daily

11. Test Yourself Often

Take quizzes, do language puzzles, or play word games to test your memory

Use apps or websites that provide exercises and feedback

12. Be Patient with Yourself

Learning a language takes time and effort, so don’t rush it into months and weeks and don’t quit early too

Celebrate small wins, like understanding a phrase or having a short conversation with someone whether irl or yourself or online

13. Expose Yourself to Different dialects of specific language (if it has any)

Languages can vary by region of like specific country

Listen to different dialects to develop a broader understanding of the language

14. Track Your Progress

Set achievable goals (e.g., learn 50 new words a month, or hold a basic conversation in three months) promise yourself something rewarding like a night out or etc

Reflect on how much you’ve improved, even if it feels small and try to kinda romanticize it too

15. Never Stop Being Curious

Learn about the culture behind the language instead of just learning the language and try to connect with the culture and respect it too

Ask questions, explore idioms, and understand humor in the language and quirks and words that they only have in that language

Okay so that was all my list so I hope you enjoy <33

[oneforthemunny]

i’m back and feeling better. not great but better.

i’m going on a rant and i’m sorry in advanced. i can’t get into a therapy appointment, so you guys will have to hear it lol.

i’m just going through a lot and need to get it out. i’ve tried to keep it in bc i don’t want to burden my friends bc i feel annoying and they don’t understand.

this one really effected me but let me just say this, and i know this will shock a lot of you:

i didn’t dog cuss this man. or berate him, like old evie would have done. and maybe that’s me being too forgiving, but i’m proud of myself. i stood up for myself when he was being weird and showing red flags and put a stop to it in a mature way.

he didn’t react well, which i’m not shocked, because he has his own healing. and i know deep down, i did the best thing for both of us. i was kind to him throughout our interactions, and maybe i shouldn’t have been, but for me, i’m glad i was.

i’ve been working very hard on being kinder and no one talks about how fucking hard it is. how there’s a fine line between being kind and being walked all over. and people have no problem stomping all over that line.

but for me, i had a friend, who unfairly isn’t here anymore, who showed me kindness when i really fucking needed it. and i didn’t deserve her, or anyone’s, kindness at the time, but yet she gave it to me. so freely and effortlessly and it changed my life. my whole fucking life. i would not be here if it wasn’t for that.

when she passed, it was so easy for me to be bitter and to be angry. i could have easily been vile and mean to everyone i met, a lot of them i could have rationalized that they deserved it. because she was so kind and wasn’t here, and there were so many who should have, myself at the top of that list, been taken instead.

but i was stuck with the haunting thought that if she can’t be here, and she loved life so fucking much, that i owed her the effort to try and love it as much as she did. to treat others the way she did, the way she treated me. her impact on me, i can’t put into words. i just hope she knows.

i’m saying all of this, putting it out here into the void or universe or whatever, because her death anniversary is fastly approaching. it’s a big one, and though i feel i should be used to it by now, i can’t help but feel every emotions more severely than it’s been before.

i miss her everyday. and when i started talking to this guy, i was excited. and that excitement brought me small, temporary happiness that masked emotions that were hidden underneath.

i think what hurts me most of all is i wanted to talk to her about it. about anything and everything. and i can’t.

but i feel in my heart, in my soul, that she was looking out for me. that she’d be proud of my growth, of my confidence, and most of all that i’m fighting every fucking day to be kinder.

i know it wasn’t him. he was just a fucking guy, and one, quite honestly, i know wouldn’t be good for me. i’ve taken up using the phrase “my future husband would never” and i stand by it (we know my hubby mafia!eddie would fucking never and he’s the standard).

all of this stupid fucking rant to say, i’m just hurting right now. and all of you have shown me such kindness, and i really can’t thank you enough because i am at a low i haven’t been at in a while.

i have no idea what i’m doing with my life. I’m just trying to be kind, and be and do better in every way.

i’m being really vulnerable, because i know many of you think i’m a confident cunt (and i usually am) but even confident cunts have really bad spells too. i’m actually very sensitive under all of this, and i know someone out there feels the same way and i hope you know you’re not alone. and i want to thank you all for making me feel like i’m not alone.

[honeytonedhottie]

what does less is more ACTUALLY mean?.ೃ࿔*:･🍨🎀

when talking about beauty tips, i noticed people always talk about the concept that less is MORE. but like, never really elaborated into that so i wanted to kind of give my two cents on the less is more tip…💬🎀

LESS IS ENHANCEMENT ;

when i first thought about the phrase "less is more" my mind immediately went to USING less. less makeup, less accessories, kind of a minimalistic approach to beauty. but as i sat with it more i've come to see that less doesn't mean to do nothing/not try, but instead its about enhancing ur features and not hiding them with too many products.

like, instead of layering on a million products, you keep ur lip combo a simple lip liner and gloss... or with lashes u go for a wispy hybrid look instead of a caterpillar lash (no hate to caterpillar lash girlies) when there are variations in the density and fullness of ur lashes, it gives it a more natural look and it elevates ur everyday makeup by like a billion percent. customize ur lashes to your eyes! dont just take them out of the container and slap em on.

so when you focus on like the big things for your day to day looks... like taking care of ur skin so u dont have to wear foundation everyday to feel pretty, lash clusters, a little bit of lipgloss. u dont like NEED so much every single day you know? less is more to me is about enhancing ur natural beauty and ur features with/without makeup.

another example, if u have moles and beauty marks... dont cover them up with concealer but instead highlight them with an eyeliner and wear them proudly. at the end of the day we wanna let our individuality shine and be celebrated, and with practice we can learn to accentuate and flatter our features. and the same is true for our bodies. media loves to show what an acceptable body is and isn't, like why cant we just accentuate our bodies and be comfortable and feel sexy in it? (thats an idea for another post) like how "being skinny" made a resurgence in the media and now the bbl body of the 2018 era is like gone. this just goes to show that when it comes to ur beauty don't bandwagon off of trends bcuz trends FLUCTUATE. and YOU shouldn't fluctuate with every single trend. just be you!

HOW I APPLY THE LESS IS MORE MANTRA ;

❤︎ my everyday makeup consists of a skin tint, some red blush, my nyx cold brew lip liner and some mascara.

i use red blush bcuz i was watching a victorias secret makeup tutorial and one of the makeup artists mentioned that red blush looks closest to our natural blush so by using a little bit, it's a lot less harsh and actually quite flattering on my skin. i use mascara on my top AND bottom lashes (bottom lashes make SUCH a difference) and ofc my lip liner and gloss and thats it…💬🎀

❤︎ i keep my skincare and bodycare SUPER simple. i dont overload on the products and i give my skin what it NEED.

my morning skincare is just turmeric and kojic acid bar soap, toner and my beauty of josen sunscreen. my evening skincare is my turmeric and kojic acid bar soap, niacinamide and the nivea SOFT moisturize. as for my evening bodycare i use my turmeric soap and slather with coconut oil and raw shea butter once im out. i use these at night instead of my regular vanilla scented wash routine bcuz thats more so to smell good and feel soft, this routine is to maintain my soft pretty skin…💬🎀

with all this being said, this is just a think piece and u dont have to make this ur whole life! like, i love being a doll and wearing dolly lashes and adding on tons and TONS of accessories. take this principle and apply it where u feel it resonates the most. u dont have to take it and apply it to everything cuz we're not all the same. like i personally absolutely canNOT do minimalistic fashion and decor because im EXTRA... but when it comes to my everyday makeup i think i look cuter when i wear a little less, and my skin responds better to less product. hope u enjoyed girlies 💕

[narrans]

My Borrowed Son | 27 | Strangers Like Me

Chapter Twenty-Seven | Strangers Like Me

Parker was in awe of the place he saw. This place was so strange and yet he knew it was a house. An aroma that smelled sweet and familiar lingered in the air and only got stronger as the four of them approached the structure.

Parker’s mind was completely numb. No part of him felt real. He felt like a helium balloon, floating along and merely existing. Every sense was taking in information, but processing it was another story.

As they approached, Parker noticed two other small children who were smaller and younger than him outside of the structure. It sounded like the two of them were talking – well, one was talking, and the other was babbling simple phrases.

It wasn’t until they were a few feet away that they instinctively stopped and turned toward the approaching group. The oldest of the two’s eyes were wide and he quickly took the younger by the hand and guided her inside. There was some kind of commotion inside and, a few seconds later, two more adults, one man and one woman who looked a little older than the man they walked outside of the structure. Their expressions told Parker everything he needed to know about seeing him with the others.

They were apprehensive, completely uneasy, and shocked into silence at seeing him.

Parker’s step faltered and he stopped dead in his tracks. He never considered himself a shy person, but too much had happened all at once and was making him retreat into himself. His body trembled as he pulled the cloak given to him by the man further over his shoulders.

This made the man stop and glance over at Parker.

“You’re alright. It’s going to be okay, kid,” said the man. The same instinct Parker had experienced all his life that raised when he sensed his mom coming or when he fell from a great distance wasn’t giving him any red flags. Usually, the hair would raise on the back of his neck or something inside him would be screaming to run away.

That was not the case here.

In fact, there was something homey about what was happening.

It was familiar.

Parker swallowed, his throat feeling like sandpaper from getting sick earlier, and followed behind the man.

The woman ushered the other two teens into the home, giving Kit a harsh stare, before her features softened as she looked back to Parker. The man did the same thing as Finnick and Kit passed, saying something along the lines of, “We’ll talk about this later,” as Kit crossed the threshold.

The woman exhaled slowly as though to calm herself down before stepping forward toward Parker. The young teen noticed she had a prosthetic leg, which seemed unfathomable. How could she have a prosthetic leg and not be human? How did she get the supplies for it? It looked 3D printed after all.

“Parker, sweetie, come on inside. I’m sure you have some questions,” said the woman as she turned on her heel and vanished inside the house. The man with her followed shortly behind after giving the man who helped Parker a stern look.

Parker wasn’t sure why, but he got the impression that there was something uneasy and unspoken between the group and the stranger. Regardless, Parker drifted along through the door and into the home. He immediately noticed so many odds and ends that were hung from the walls.

The items ranged from ones he actually used to help build his own space to creative alternatives for everyday items. Things like thumbtacks in the walls for coats and bags and twist ties for hinges on the doors. There was a cork in the corner with a paperclip in the back which made the thing look like a stool or chair and this was just the hallway.

The number of things in the kitchen and living area alone that looked like they had been fashioned out of the most obscure items and turned out okay. One of the things Parker noticed was a bundle of blankets in the corner that looked like it had been made from yarn. There were trinkets hanging in the air and cut paper dolls and origami creations that looked to be made from old gum wrappers.

The idea of using trash to decorate was an odd one to Parker, but the actual execution looked rather enchanting and homey. This was just one of so many things all around that he recognized for their actual use but appreciated its reused purpose.

What on earth is happening? This place is fascinating. They reuse everyday items to make new things and use them for something else entirely. That matchbox is a cabinet and drawers. This other one is a sofa.

Parker absentmindedly stepped into the kitchen and suddenly found himself sitting at the kitchen table with a thimble full of something that smelled like tea in front of him. The man who was in the house was sitting at the head of a table made of cards while the woman continued to bustle about the kitchen, snagging more “cups” of tea for everyone else.

Finnick, the older teen, sat next to his father at a diagonal from Parker while the girl, Kit, leaned against the door facing with her arms crossed as tightly as a twisty pretzel. The other two were in the living area. It was clear the older one was meant to watch over the youngest but was failing miserably because every few seconds the youngest managed to charge into the kitchen in pursuit of her mother.

The other man stayed leaned up against the kitchen counter as the woman sat down across from Parker. With her lack of movement, everything finally fell still in the house.

The tension was tangible, but Parker had no idea how to even begin. What did he ask? Did he have the right to leave? Was he being kept here? Were all of these people delusional and calling themselves “Borrowers?” Or was that actually what they were?

Was that what he was?

“Well, Parker, I’m sure you have a lot of questions. You can take your time if you’d like. We’re happy to answer anything,” said the woman. “I… suppose introductions are in order. I’m Mira, and this is my husband Toulouse. Our eldest is Finnick and our daughter, whom I’ve been told you met last night, is Sprokit. Our other son is Reed and our youngest is Dove. We’ve been living here for many years and, well… hearing about your arrival certainly sparked some discussion.”

Parker looked at the man in the corner. He pulled the cloak further over his shoulders and swallowed again. The smell of the tea was appealing, but Parker’s insides felt like they could turn for the worst at any moment.

“And… him?”

The man glanced up at Parker, keeping his arms folded loosely, before sighing heftily.

“Kers. I moved here with you and your mom.”

Parker recited the names a few times in his mind, but he knew they wouldn’t stick. He felt like his mind was frozen in time back when he first entered the walls, and it would take nothing short of an ice chisel to get information through his brain at the moment.

“R-right…”

“Parker, do…”

“You… said you’ve known me for a while, but what does that mean?” Parker asked, interrupting Finnick as he began speaking. Parker wanted desperately for them to stay quiet and let him process the information in front of him, but that was a pipe dream at this point. It was obvious they wanted to help and wouldn’t relent until they thought he was satisfied with their answers.

They looked over at Kers, as did Parker, and waited for the answer.

“I said it before, I was hidden. I found your home a little over four years ago and decided to live there and make sure you were okay,” said Kers. He sounded exhausted, but truthful.

But it still didn’t make sense to Parker.

“W-what? What does that even mean? Okay? Okay from what?” Parker heard Kit scoff before she piped up from her spot in the doorway.

“Oh, please,” she said exasperatedly. “Okay from the human. He was making sure you were safe from the human.”

“Sprokit!” scolded Toulouse firmly, making Parker jump slightly. Kit rolled her eyes and rolled her lips together to form a thin line on her face. The father sighed and nodded. “She means the woman you call ‘mom’.”

The woman I call “mom?”

Those words echoed hollowly in Parker’s mind. It made him bristle that these people were calling his mom “the woman,” reducing everything she did for him all of his life to two simple words that didn’t do her justice.

It also felt like a punch in the gut. “The woman” he knew as his mom wasn’t actually that thing. A mom was a woman who gave birth to you. A mom wouldn’t lie to you. A mom helped and protected as well as provided for you. A mom loved you.

Parker felt his insides swirl again and he coughed a little as his body lurched. Thankfully, nothing came up, but it did make Parker feel sicker by the second.

“B…but…”

“Parker, it’s okay. I’m sorry. We’re just not used to talking to a Borrower who has been seen and talked to a human before. Old habits die hard,” apologized Mira as she leaned forward onto the table and smiled while catching Parker’s eye.

That word is what helped snap Parker out of his stupor.

Now feeling completely detached, the questions started coming in clearer for Parker. Though still numb and waiting for something to break through his frozen mind, Parker’s questions started manifesting, and he wasn’t about to let them slip away.

“That… word… Borrower… what is it?” asked Parker. Sympathetic glances flashed from every set of eyes to one another before turning back to Parker. Mira looked visibly shaken and upset, but she still mustered a smile for the young teen.

“Well, that’s what we are. We’re Borrowers. We borrow things that humans won’t miss in order to survive. Little things like sugar, bread, pins, cloth, ribbons, and anything else we might find useful,” Mira replied.

“We usually don’t see other Borrowers often, but we all live by a code in order to keep ourselves safe,” Finnick chimed in as he too leaned forward in his chair. “It’s rare for so many Borrowers to be living together under the same roof since it’s more likely a human will notice things going missing.”

“What about those two who come to visit?” interjected Reed as he began dragging the youngest, Dove, back to the living room. “They said they come from a massive group.”

“Rey and Hero probably live in that abandoned house down by the creek. I can’t imagine they live in a human’s house, especially with a big group. You saw their clothes. Definitely Outies,” dismissed Finnick.

“Outies?” echoed Parker. Toulouse nodded.

“Yes, Borrowers are usually ‘Innies’ or ‘Outies,’ meaning where they live; either inside a house or outside in the wilds,” replied the father of four.

Parker had to physically rest his head on the table to keep from vomiting again. The entire room as spinning faster and faster, making the teen see stars, and his action quieted them for a minute while he regained his bearings.

When he did, he dared to take a sip of the tea Mira gave him just to quench his parched throat. It was soothing and made him feel a little less sick. The sweetness definitely helped add to the taste too.

“So… y-you… you’re saying… there are just… massive groups? Or… rather… small clusters of groups of B… Bor-row…” Parker couldn’t get the word out, but his meaning was understood.

“Yes, that’s correct,” replied Toulouse.

“Th-then… why haven’t I heard of you? Why isn’t it on the internet? W-why… h-how does n-no one know about you?” asked Parker.

“About us you mean,” grumbled Kit. Mira snapped her fingers harshly at her daughter and gave her a warning stare before turning back to Parker. The palpable tension dissipated after a few moments in intense silence, followed by the eldest son clearing his throat.

“Because of the rules,” Finnick replied. Parker’s blank expression prompted further explanation. This threw Parker for a loop.

“Rule? There are��� rules?” Parker asked aloud unintentionally.

“Yes, quite a few of them. There are three we Borrowers generally abide by in order to keep ourselves safe.” The way Toulouse explained reminded Parker of how his mom would explain things to him. It was slow and simple, broken into multiple parts to make it easier for him to process the information.

“The first rule is to never be seen by a human because it is dangerous for you and for all of Borrower kind. The second rule flows into the first which is you must move if you think you’ve been seen. It’s for your protection, even if you weren’t seen. The last rule is to never talk to humans. If they know we’re sentient, they’ll only try and get answers out of us.”

Parker listened to the father’s explanation and something in his mind flashed. It was quick, like a lightbulb memory, but he remembered hearing those rules once before, along with the reason why. Slowly, Parker said, “Because… they’ll treat you like a… pet….”

The inquisitive glances the family members gave one another told Parker he had said something correctly.

“That’s right,” said Reed as he popped back into the kitchen to retrieve Dove once again. “You’ll get thrown in a cage and they’ll throw away the key. You’ll never be seen or heard from again, and that’ll be the exposure of Borrower kind.” Parker twisted around in the chair and glanced at the younger kid as he flashed a smile and, snagging his little sister under the armpits, hoisted her up and waddled back to the living room.

Parker’s vision blackened around the edges, and he once again needed to rest his head on the table. A cold sweat covered his body. Regret filled him as he realized he was probably soaking Kers’ cloak through with his perspiration. The family of Borrowers waited patiently for Parker’s recovery as they awaited his next question.

But his mind was running wild.

Everything and nothing made sense.

This had to be a dream, right?

Parker pinched himself under the table hard along the outside of his thigh, but the trick didn’t work, and he was met with five pairs of eyes staring at him expectantly. One thought was something he clung to, however, and he hoped in this moment to possibly disprove everything they just said.

“But… my mom… she said it was a genetic condition. She said I have Parvi Homunculi Syndrome. It’s just a rare condition. Are… you sure you don’t just have that?” Mira must’ve heard the desperation in Parker’s voice because her features filled once again sympathetically.

“I… I know how weird it must sound,” said Mira. She brushed her hair to the side and sighed before clasping her hands together and resting them on the table. “But we’re Borrowers. We’re different than humans for a number of different reasons, despite how similar we might look.”

“Differences?” Parker barely uttered the word, fearing the sip of tea he just had was going to churn his insides and reappear.

“Yeah, differences. We have instincts that humans don’t have. Our vision is better in the dark. We have great balance and land on our feet; well, most of the time,” Finnick stated.

“Tell us, Parker, have you ever experiences anything like that? Sensing something before it happened? Feeling the tremors in the ground as a human walks around when they’re rooms away? Finding curious places to hide? Or feeling the need to hide when you sense something coming?” asked Toulouse. “Haven’t you ever fallen from up high and landed safely on the ground? The instinct or need to reuse or create? What about walking around here in the walls? Didn’t you notice how well you could see in such low light?”

His scenarios made Parker’s blood run cold.

Every single one of those things he mentioned was something Parker had experienced. He had always attributed those things to his condition.

So… my condition… it’s a lie?

Well… not a lie…

I do have a condition….

I’m a Borrower.

Everything they’re saying makes sense. How would they know about everything if they hadn’t experienced it themselves? They don’t know about my climbing and falling habits. They don’t know about the things I’ve invented. They couldn’t have known about my senses unless they had it too.

Mira’s face softened and she quickly pushed herself to her feet and retrieved a single square of toilet paper, tearing off a side and gently pushing it over toward Parker. It was only now he realized warm, salty tears were soaking his face. The tears glided down his cheeks and puddled at his chin before dripping onto his shirt.

His entire body shook like a leaf in a windstorm as he numbly snagged the piece of toilet paper and hid his face away. Breathing was a chore, and the few breaths he sucked in wracked his body with sobs.

Over and over, he asked himself why?

Why him?

Why was this happening?

How many Borrowers were out there? Surely there had to be some reference to them specifically out there in the world.

How could an entire race of people just be completely unnoticed like this family?

The thoughts that followed only made Parker’s sobs double him over.

How long had his mom known about him and not said anything?

Why was he just finding all of this out now?

Why had his mom lied to him?

Didn’t she love him?

Why didn’t she just tell him the truth?

Parker wasn’t sure how long he stayed hunched over smashing the now soggy piece of toilet paper to his face, but he did suddenly notice a pressure on his hand that wasn’t there before. Not like he cared. Everything was spiraling out of control and off of the edge of a cliff. What was one more thing?

Eyes red and dry despite the moist tears, Parker blinked away the blur and finally realized the pressure on his hand was Mira. She had reached forward and gently clasped his hand in her own. Parker felt the urge to resist but couldn’t tear himself away from the comfort the pressure of her hand gave. Her motherly instincts were right.

All Parker wanted right now was a hug… but from whom?

His mom?

Someone his own size?

Even now, the thought of someone being able to wrap their arms around him and him being able to do the same was unfathomable.

As his breathing calmed, Parker felt a new emotion boiling in his belly, and it quickly consumed him.

Anger.

Frustrated anger and distrust filled him like magma filling a volcano. He felt ready to burst at any moment, but he wasn’t about to leave now.

He needed to know more about these strangers like him. He needed to know more. His desire for knowledge fueled by the fact he had been deceived for his entire life hardened his features and cleared the darkness away from the corners of his eyes.

“Parker, I know this is a lot for you all at once,” said Mira, noticing the teen’s change in demeanor. “But…”

“Please…” said Parker, his voice cracking. The teenager was barely able to keep from falling apart as he sat there on that cork bottle chair. “Just… tell me what you can… about Borrowers? About what happens when… Borrowers are seen? What happens? And…. About me… and my….” Parker’s voice trailed off as he suddenly had trouble saying the word “mom.”

Toulouse sighed and leaned heavily onto the table and said, “Parker, are you sure?”

Parker nodded and squeezed Mira’s hand.

“Yes,” he said definitively. “Please.”

It took a few hours, but Toulouse and his family began telling Parker what he needed to know. They told him about how Borrowers had managed to keep themselves secret because of the rules and how they’ve had narrow misses in the past. They talked about how they went about creating their home and the balance Borrowers needed to live in secret with their human counterparts.

What really made Parker’s blood boil was the stories about what happened to Borrowers in the stories where the were caught.

Some were thrown in cages until they were rescued. Others managed to trick their ways out of their containment and away from their human captors. The one that hurt Parker the most was the ones that were treated as evolved pets.

Evolved pets had little homes they lived in with electricity and water. Repurposed doll houses were usually the container used rather than a cage with traditional bars – just like what Parker lived in.

Borrowers experienced isolation and every little thing was always taken care of. No need to borrow because food was always on the table. No need to climb because you’re carried everywhere. No need to go outside because entertainment is brought to you. The purpose of a Borrower was to go out and survive, not be taken care of at the whim of a human.

It was the exact existence Parker had been living.

It made his insides churn to think that his mom had been treating him like a pet for practically all of his life.

“Alright, that’s enough for today,” said Kers, chiming in after hours of silence. He had remained practically emotionless and silent for most of the time while Toulouse and his family helped “educate” Parker in the ways of a Borrower. The family opened their mouths to object, but Kers beat them to it. “Parker has been gone for a while, and I’m sure his mom is worried sick about him being missing. She’s bound to have noticed by now. You don’t want her looking for him, do you?”

The question shut down any arguments the family might’ve had. Despite Parker’s reservations in returning, he sighed and pushed himself to his feet.

“Um… thank you… really. I…” Parker stammered over his words as he thought about everything he just learned.

“You don’t need to thank us, Parker. Just, keep yourself safe,” said Mira.

“And, if you don’t mind, keep your knowledge about this place and my family close to your chest. I apologize again on behalf of my daughter. We should’ve made it clearer that she wasn’t supposed to act rashly when it came to your… situation,” said Toulouse.

“Thanks. I… can probably do that,” said Parker. His head swirled dangerously fast with his first step, but thankfully Kers was by his side and guided Parker safely toward the door. The older Borrower watched the younger cautiously while Parker paid him no mind.

Parker’s mind was far from him. There were too many other things going on to be concerned about revealing the family’s home. With a final farewell, Parker and Kers left the house and headed back down the route they came.

The two Borrowers were completely silent for the majority of the trek, leaving Parker to fester and dwell in his own thoughts.

It wasn’t until they were by the wall at a familiar stretch that Kers physically stopped moving forward and turned to face Parker. There was something in his expression that was sorrowful and uneasy, but also determined. It reminded Parker of the look Toulouse gave him a few times.

Fatherly.

It was a new look and took the teen by surprise.

“Parker, I know this is not how any of us wanted things to go,” said Kers. “But I want you to know that I’m sorry. It was never my intention to help keep this truth from you. I… had actually planned on talking to your mom today to figure out how to talk to you.”

Parker wasn’t sure if he was buying it, but Kers continued.

“I know you’re going through a lot, and I know I have no right to ask this of you, but listen to me and don’t do anything rash,” said Kers.

Parker bristled at the words.

“Rash? You don’t want me to be rash?! You knew. You watched for years and let me believe…” Parker took a breath as his fury reared its head again. “You let me believe I was human. You and that woman both.”

Kers stiffened as he heard that word. The last thing he wanted to do was make an enemy out of Parker, but Kers needed to make a few things clear to Parker. Attempting to diffuse the situation, he kept his voice calm and low.

“Parker, that woman is still your mom. She loves you and only wants the best for you. Believe me. I’ve seen it every day for years. I don’t think she would intentionally hurt you. I don’t know why she didn’t say anything, but it can’t have been easy when your differences are so obvious,” said Kers firmly.

Parker jerked his head away as he looked down at the corner of a nearby beam.

“She lied.”

“I know, and that’s not the best look. Still, Parker, trust me on this. She loves you. Regardless of everything else, she loves you,” emphasized Kers.

“She treated me like a pet. How… can I trust someone who would lie to me so easily for so long?” The words spilled out of Parker like water leaking from a sponge. He felt like he couldn’t absorb another thing and his words were now just spilling out.

“No, she didn’t. She treated you like her son. Coming from a family who used to have pets, I can see where taking care of a kid and taking care of a pet are almost the same thing,” pointed out Kers.

“But…”

“Listen, Parker. Don’t do anything rash. Think about everything you’ve just learned and don’t act emotionally. That’ll only hurt more,” advised Kers. “Sit and think about everything. I’ll be back later tonight to check on you if you’d like.”

Parker nodded numbly, but the adult’s words simply added to the puddle that was his thoughts. Kers finished walking Parker to his room and, with a reassuring pat on his shoulder, left the teen to go back to the world he knew.

As Parker jumped back through the electrical cover and climbed the stairs to his little house, he suddenly realized he was still wearing Kers’ cloak. The heavy fabric had been draped over his shoulders the entire walk back, and Kers must’ve thought Parker needed it more.

It felt like a hug from behind, and the warmth of the fabric kept Parker’s shaking at bay.

The teen made it back into his room and into his space with every intention of resting in his bed until dinner. The words he wanted to say were locked somewhere in his brain. He just needed time to muddle through.

It was what he saw in his kitchen as he entered the little house that instantly changed his mind.

Parker noticed a massive plate with cut apples just sitting there. Before, this would have been an enjoyable treat. Now, however, all Parker saw was those videos on his social media where some tasty treat was delivered on a platter to none other than the family pet.

Something about seeing that plate snapped something in his mind.

You’re just a pet to her.

It was a bold, hateful thought that spawned out of nowhere in his mind, fueled only by recent events.

Despite Kers’ warning, he wanted to know the answers.

He wanted to know why his mom hadn’t told him anything and everything she knew about him.

Another, greater part of him hoped that everything he just heard was a lie. He wanted it to be untrue. He wanted Kers and Toulouse and Mira and Finnick and Reed and Kit all to be lying to his face to abduct him into the walls.

Parker spun on his heel and marched back down the stairs and dared to climb the steps all the way down to the kitchen where he heard his mom… that woman… working away. Trembling in his shoes, Parker finally made it to ground level and came around the corner. The urge to vomit as he saw her filled him, which contrasted greatly with the expression on her face as she saw him.

~~~^*^*^~~~

Amanda had been pacing the floor for what felt like hours. She had practically torn the house upside down trying to find her son, Parker. After their little disagreement this morning and the fear eating her alive, she couldn’t find him.

His room?

Not there.

Living area?

Not there.

Bathroom?

Nowhere to be seen.

Kitchen?

Nope.

She had cut up some apples in the hopes of luring him out and to make sure he had a little something to eat if he was still upset with her, but to no avail.

She hoped that he hadn’t done something foolish or decided to go into the walls and got hurt. It was an idea she should have supported, but was afraid to.

It was clear now more than ever that she needed to talk to Parker about everything, and now she finally had the words to do so. The moment she found him, she would tell him everything. It was long overdue, but it was time.

If only she could find him!

Now, after she was about to start calling and shouting, there he was.

Parker came out from around the corner and relief immediately flooded over her. She rushed over and knelt, which made Parker flinch and shy away. Struck by the odd interaction, Amanda glanced over him and immediately noticed his appearance.

Parker looked drained. He had obviously been crying and looked ill. What really caught her off guard was what he had draped over his shoulders. It looked like some kind of cloak, but it was way too big for him. Brown, frayed, and torn, this thing obviously didn’t come from anything either of them had made.

There was time to ask questions later.

Right now, she was relieved beyond words that Parker was here.

“Parker! I’m so glad you’re here. I was worried sick. Where were you? Are you okay? Sweetie, I’m so sorry about earlier. I don’t know what came over me. I should’ve…”

“You should’ve what?” interrupted Parker, something that wasn’t like him. Amanda, caught off guard, felt her heart clench as she met her son’s eyes. There was something in them that she registered immediately.

Hurt.

Pain.

Anger.

Frustration.

Desperation.

Before she could say anything, Parker continued.

“How long?”

Those two words shook Amanda to her bones.

No. What?

“H-how long? How long what?”

“How long have you known I’m not your son?”

The words hung in the air. Like a dense fog, Amanda suddenly felt lost. Tendrils of tension clutched her chest.

No… I’ve run out of time. I’m too late.

Amanda’s throat clenched. She knew this conversation was going to happen, but not like this. She looked into Parker’s soft brown eyes and saw he was clinging onto the last threads of hope. It was part of that desperation she saw earlier.

And she had no lifeline to give him.

“Well?!” Parker’s voice cracked as tears welled up in his eyes. He looked to be on the verge of collapse.

Amanda bit back her own emotions as they constricted her throat. A bottomless void opened in Amanda’s heart.

“Parker… you are my son. I’ve always been your mom,” said Amanda. Parker couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Was she serious? Or was she lying. The tether he thought he was receiving was just within grasp. Maybe this was all just a bad dream.

Her next words shattered him.

“But I’m not your only mom. Someone… some beautiful, wonderful woman gave birth to you.” Amanda’s cheeks were etched with tears at this point. With the last bit of her strength, she choked out, “I love you, Parker, as if you came from me… but you’re right. You are not mine.”

~~~~~^*^*^*^*^~~~~~

Continue

Previous

Beginning

[jessicafangirl]

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.

[minimalist-daydream]

on finding the beauty in the everyday

I recently read Sally Rooney's Beautiful World, Where Are You and this particular passage really resonated with me:

"I found it impossible to imagine ever feeling again as I had apparently once felt about rain or flowers. It wasn't just that I failed to be delighted by sensory experiences - it was that I didn't actually seem to have them anymore... I suppose I was seeing but not looking - the visual world just came to me flat, like a catalogue of information. I never looked at things anymore, in the way I had before...

I began to feel it all over again - the nearness, the possibility of beauty, like a light radiating softly from behind the visible world, illuminating everything."

As you may have deduced from the title, the novel is about how we struggle to find beauty and meaning in a world that feels increasingly alien and dystopian. The passage above really captured a loss that I felt moving on from my early twenties and even adolescence, but one that I had never really consciously articulated. My current life is in many ways more stable compared to those years, but I also feel like I lost a certain sensitivity to beauty. I'm reluctant to use the word romanticism, with the phrases "romanticising your life" and "main character syndrome" having been coopted by cringy TikTok posts, but I miss the part of me that could be moved by something as simple as watching the rain fall from my window, or a line of poetry I read in a book.

I wonder if this is an inevitable consequence of aging, or a process that's been accelerated by a fast-paged, digital society. The quote about how the "visual world just came to me flat, like a catalogue of information" is a telling description of how we now absorb media online, our phones suspended inches from our faces, with hundreds of images and videos scrolling by in 2 inch panes.

I'm wondering how I can once again capture that sense of wonder and gratitude for everyday things that came so easily to me when I was younger. It feels near impossible to do in a life increasingly constrained by work and the constant pressure to be productive. Anyways, I'm not totally sure why I wrote this post on a website that seems to be mostly defunct. But maybe someone will read this and be able to relate.

[adachimoe]

PSC Eps 12, 13, 18, 19 "Ah-ha, I SEES it!"

Last time: Ep 1 + Explanation, Eps 2 + 4, Ep 5, Eps 6 + 7 (no Q&A), Eps 8 + 9, Eps 10 + 11 (plus PSC Cafe)

I paraphrased some of the phrasings, except for the fish question. I left that as-is because it impressed Isocchi so much she rewarded the viewer who asked it with a t-shirt.

Episode 12

Q: Does Rise wear earrings with a piercing-type backing, or does she wear clip-ons? A: Clip-ons.

(This sounds dumb because language thing and Atlus's answer. In JP, a "ピアス / pierce" is for pierced ears, but an "イヤリング / earring" refers to clip-ons. In English, we just call all of these "earrings" lol. The viewer asks if Rise wears a pierce or a clip-on or a magnetic clip-on, and Atlus answers that she wears clip-on, but not if her ears are actually pierced or not, hence my weird phrasing.)

Q: Where did Aragaki live before moving back into the SEES dormitory? A: He was probably living somewhere by himself, or he kept being an unwanted guest at the homes of his shady friends. Probably a big reason why he got to know Strega so well was cause he spent so long as a vagrant. Q: During Episode Adachi in P4AU, Adachi mentions getting tired of seeing the Moonlight Bridge when he was in the city. Did he used to live in Iwatodai? A: He didn't necessarily live there, but he worked in the city center, and would take the scenic route back to HQ by driving over to Moonlight Bridge to imitate a character on a popular detective drama.

(See this post for more about the TV show in question.)

Episode 13

Q: Who is Margaret's favorite (hot guy) Persona? A: I think Ardha, Helel, and Yoshitsune are her favorites since she swaps between them a lot. She uses Oberon for the 9999 damage Megidolaon, so maybe she's got some obsession with him? Q: Why does the P3 Protagonist wear his MP3 player in Tartarus? It makes sense during his everyday life, but it doesn't work during the Dark Hour, and it seems like it would be annoying swinging around during battle, or I think it would break when he gets attacked. Did he just forget to take it off? A: Part of the reason why is that he will sometimes he listen to it on the way to Tartarus. The other part is that wearing it has become a habit. Q: In Persona 3, what's with the wound on Sanada's forehead? I'm worried because his ribs healed in a month but the wound on his forehead still hasn't healed after a year. A: The band-aid on the left side of Sanada's forehead is just to express that, "He always has injuries cause he's a boxer". Due to his past, he's the type who wants to train to the extent that he's bullying himself, so it seems he has a lot of fresh wounds on his face.

Episode 18

Q: In P4D, Kanamin's costumes include her plain jersey with a shirt that says "Life" (人生) on it, and it seems like the writing changes when she dances. How many variations are there? A: 13 total ("Life" + 12 others). Q: When did Sho from P4AU get that scar on his forehead? I thought the story would explain something about it since it glows when his eyes glow, but even after clearing the story, there was no explanation. A: The scar on his forehead is related to "that one thing" being implanted into his forehead. The blue glow is due to the influence of "that one thing" and the red glow is due to the influence of "the big guy".

(Contextually: Blue = Plume of Dusk and alternate personality, red = Hi-no-Kagutsuchi.)

Q: I want to know if Shiroku's pet fish Akihiko that's kept at Shiroku Pub is a freshwater fish or seawater fish? The fish itself looks like an oarfish making it a deep-sea fish which would at least need a tank with seawater. But Inaba is surrounded by mountains and the only sea on the map is Shichiri Beach. I don't think it's that far away because the main characters can go there, but Shiroku runs the general store during the day and the pub at night so I get the feeling she doesn't have time to go get seawater. A: If you look into it, there's an "artificial seawater mix" for keeping seawater fish in aquariums as pets and it's very easy to get through mail order. If she really is keeping an oarfish in an aquarium, that's impressive - something no one else has been able to do! I wonder how she does it... There's so many fish you can catch around Inaba...

Episode 19

Q: What's with the distinctive hair styles on Yosuke's Personas Susanoo and Takehaya Susanoo? Did Yosuke wish he could have an afro? A: The flashy hair isn't because of Yosuke's heart, but because the mythological Susanoo had the image of a tempest and a violent storm. It being red is to communicate that, within the game, Yosuke is not just strong against wind, but also strong against fire. Q: During January in P3P, it's mentioned that Sanada and Mitsuru take standardized tests for university admissions. But in P4 Arena, Sanada had been training overseas. Did he drop out? A: No. As mentioned in the P4 Arena story mode, he was just on leave from school. It was probably his own version of a ritual purification before embarking on the path of fighting as a professional, but even Mitsuru told him, "You're overdoing it".

(Since Aki joins the police force to support the Shadow Workers in the epilogue, I assume this is talking about him fighting Shadows professionally, not him thinking about becoming a pro boxer.)

Q: Why does Ryoji wear a scarf? November seems a bit too early for scarf weather. Does the scarf have a special meaning? A: Mainly for impact when you first meet him, but also his values are different than other people's and we were conscious of that - like he's "a foreigner who hasn't gotten used to this town yet".

(Japanese people tend to dress based on the season rather than the actual weather lol. [E.g. an older woman in the countryside asked me, "Aren't you cold?" when I was wearing leggings and a t-shirt on a warm sunny day in spring.] November would usually still be considered fall.)