#I was inspired by Plastic Tree's song “Future Colors” for this

[aleksiremesart]

Painting the Colors of Future

[alsjeblieft-zeg]

257 of 2023

bold what applies

I like to consider the idea of getting a PhD.

It scares me to make commitments regarding my future.

Comparing myself to others is the #1 thing that makes me feel upset.

I get really annoying and chatty when I’m scared.

I enjoy memorizing things, be it poems, sequences of numbers, or whatever.

After it storms, it interests me to drive around and see all the downed trees and damage.

I imagine that ordinary things are magical and it makes life more fun.

Sometimes I say things in a stupid accent for no reason.

I love playing and usually win at trivia games.

I am eagerly anticipating receiving something in the mail.

I usually feel shitty after scrolling through my Facebook Newsfeed.

Sometimes after hearing a song in a movie scene, I gain a whole new appreciation for the song.

I don’t like it when rooms have walls that are not all the same color.

I hate when there’s a cute guy around and I want him to talk to me but he doesn’t.

I enjoy cleaning out and organizing my iTunes.

I prefer sociology over psychology.

I would describe myself as quite quiet but friendly.

I tend to have dreams where I’m intensely angry more often than I have dreams where I am scared.

I am terrified to ever have to write a college thesis.

Clothes rarely fit me right off the rack. It’s discouraging and annoying.

I will defend the things I love TO THE GRAVE.

I have played the game Skylanders and it’s absolutely adorable and fun.

As cheesy as it sounds, looking into the mirror and saying positive things really helps my self-esteem.

It’s easy for my imagination to get going and I spook myself easily.

It bothers me a bit when celebrities get to write and publish novels.

Bad writing inspires me to write most, because I think, “if people enjoy THAT, they’ll definitely enjoy what I can write.”

I really never want to get pregnant. (impossible)

I have tried almond milk, rice milk, and soy milk. (hated them all)

Something that bothers me more than when someone says something offensive, is when someone else defends the offensive statement.

I never wanted to be a princess when I was little.

I adore old houses, especially if they’re “haunted.”

I’m terribly embarrassed of my past self.

I love the taste of garlic in food, but garlic breath grosses me out so much.

I really enjoy old horror movies.

I keep on remembering songs I haven’t listened to in years because of Songpop.

^ which is the first Facebook game I have ever enjoyed…

Mikhail Baryshnikov is one of my idols.

English is not my first language, but usually people can’t tell immediately.

I have a secret notebook which no one even knows exists and I would rather die than have anyone read it.

My current roommates are the best I’ve had so far.

Good posture really attracts me in someone of my preferred gender.

^ as do strong, maintained eyebrows.

I can’t really function with an Apple computer, lack of experience with those.

I don’t feel emotions the way ”normal” people do.

I don’t own a soft wallet, mine is plastic.

I tend to date men with power positions when it comes to their jobs.

No matter how hard I try, I seem to be unable to whistle.

Good manners are quite important to me.

I was once very involved in a certain sport.

I actually really enjoy cleaning my ears. hahahaha.

I refuse to eat ketchup on anything.

I often sigh really loudly by accident.

I much prefer the colder seasons to summer.

When I feel extra fancy, I fishtail my hair. It is incidentally the fanciest thing I can do with it.

I am a master at getting along with people when I try, because I am very good at figuring out how they want me to react and what they expect me to say, and if I don’t care about them and can’t be bothered to interact properly, I go into that mode.

I refuse to mow the grass, for some reason it terrifies me.

I get pretty bad season allergies.

I don’t eat pork.

My blood type is O positive.

I have ghostly pale skin.

Singlespeed bikes are my favourite.

I have never used shaving cream in my entire life. I never saw any repercussions.

I feel most people I have met in my life would do better if they toughened up.

I have a bigger problem with people who think that feminism has anything to do with hating or belittling men than with people who don’t identify to the feminist movement.

I have struggled with drug use in the past.

I have never used a credit card.

This year, I will vote for something on a national level.

There is absolutely no carpet in my flat.

Currently, I have no interest in learning how to drive.

The job I want to do after school is rather uncommon.

One of my favourite drinks is Kvass. :s :s :s

I cook a lot, and enjoy it very much.

I am a daddy’s girl, by far.

My longest relationship was a long-distance one.

One of my favourite bands is Iron Maiden.

I am unable to write in print, I actually have to stop and remember not to write in cursive after every letter.

When I was a child, I had the ”by myself” syndrome and refused any help from anyone to do whatever.

It still hasn’t changed much, haha.

My computer tends to overheat quite often.

Fiddler on the Roof is my favourite musical.

I have an incredibly high alcohol tolerance.

My phone is always dead.

Indian food is my favourite ethnic cuisine.

My mother works in psychology.

My father works in the cooking industry. He also works in the music industry.

I feel very hot at the moment, and I get anxiety when I’m too hot.

I’m pretty picky about things in general.

However, I refuse to pick a restaurant when asked.

I don’t bite my nails.

I have a piece of jewelry representing a flag on my body at all times.

I seldom shave my legs, my hair grows very slowly. :P

I used to be pretty active in the survey community, and only just recently came back.

Only one person in my family has had a serious disease such as cancer.

I have no idea how much I weigh.

Or how tall I

1. i am currently on facebook.

2. i like the band maroon 5.

3. I have hugged some of my best buddies today.

4. I have hugged someone I like today.

5. I think Bonzai waterslides are amazing.

6. i put hair clips in my hair almost everyday.

7. Hubba Bubba gum = yum.

8. I think 5 gum is disgusting.

9. I hate when I take a shower, my hair gets my back all wet.

10. It really hurts when someone hits you with a sock!

11. dachshunds are adorable.

12. I have never played chess before.

13. I don’t really care for instrumental songs.

14. i put my ipod on shuffle, but then i end up skipping half of the songs anyway.

15. i love brother/sister relationships.

16. ^I have one with someone.

17. i’m usually invisible on aim.

18. I feel like I repeat myself on every survey.

19. Today was really fun.

20. I am messaging someone through Facebook at this moment.

21. i hate when people become impatient when you are trying to do something.

22. ^Although I do.

23. All that I wanted to hear from you, something of value, something untrue.

24. People never seem to answer on AIM.

25. My cat always walk in front of my computer screen.

26. My cat is sitting on the desk right now.

27. i don’t like it when people come and watch what i’m doing on my computer.

28. i never publish any of my entries to facebook.

29. ^I don’t understand why you would.

30. I enjoy countdown surveys.

[heliads]

Goodbye in C Minor

Luke Patterson was dating this incredible girl, Y/N, until he died along with Alex and Reggie. Now that he’s been stuck in the present day, he doesn’t know how to move on from the girl he left behind in the 90s.

masterlist

A girl leans against an open doorway. She takes in the band playing around her, the black and white Sunset Curve banners streaked with color. Her eyes flash over all members of the band in turn, but they tend to linger on the lead singer, a boy with a shock of brown hair and enough passion for an entire band of his own.

In fact, he doesn’t even notice that the girl has arrived until the song ends and he looks up, finally snapped out of his reverie. Instantly, a smile shoots across his face and he jogs over to her, unslinging his guitar strap from around his shoulders and setting the instrument down on a nearby stand. He picks her up and twirls her around in the air. The girl laughs, and her eyes meet his again once her feet touch back down on the ground.

One of the boys from the band shouts something to her from across the studio, his voice hopeful. “Did you bring us lunch?” The girl turns to face them, attention finally diverted from her boyfriend. She holds up a plastic bag full of boxed containers. “I did! Takeout, hope you don’t mind. And yes, Bobby, some are vegetarian.” A light-haired boy, Alex, does a silent fist pump. “You’re the best, Y/N. Honestly.” 

Y/N hands the bag of food over to the hungry bandmates, and all except one hurriedly dig in. Luke stays, interlacing his fingers with Y/N’s. “You didn’t have to do that, you know.” Y/N waves his concern away. “I absolutely did. You’ve gotten me into the Orpheum for your upcoming show, the least I can do is make sure you’re all properly fed. If I can’t help with music, I can at least help with this.”

Luke grins. “Trust me, I think the food is the best thing ever. By the way, Reggie wants me to tell you that we’ll invite you to every show on the planet if it means he keeps getting free lunch. Although technically you don’t have to worry about that- I want you by my side every step of the way, lunch or no lunch.” Y/N laughs. “That’s one of the most romantic things I’ve heard all week. Maybe you should put that into a new song. ‘I’ll love you even if you don’t bring me takeout.’”

Luke pouts, and Y/N giggles at his mock sadness. “I’m kidding. Mostly.” Luke leans forward to kiss Y/N. “You had better be.” From across the room, Alex yells something at them. “If you guys keep making out in the middle of practice we’re going to ban you from the studio.” Y/N waves her hand at him. “I brought you food, you can’t ban me! I’m too important to the future of the band.” Reggie shrugs. “She’s right, you know. We might starve.” Alex swats him on the shoulder, and Y/N turns back to Luke with a slight smile.

“I can’t believe you’re playing at the Orpheum in a week. That’s so exciting!” Luke nods fervently. “Sometimes it doesn’t even feel real. Like I’ll wake up and find out we were actually booked to some other place, not the actual Orpheum.” Y/N smiles at him. “You’re going to do great, and that’s final. I can’t wait to see you guys perform.” Luke absentmindedly runs his fingers over Y/N’s knuckles, tapping out the beats of half-written songs. “I know we’ll do great. I’ve got my muse. All of my songs are about you, you know that.” Y/N raises an eyebrow. “Even ‘My Name is Luke?’” Luke groans. “Okay, maybe not that one. Almost all of my songs are about you. How about that?” Y/N beams at her boyfriend. “That sounds perfect.”

Luke jolts back to reality. He’s still standing in that same studio, but he’s back to the present day. He’s not in the 90s anymore, and it’s been decades since he was writing songs with Sunset Curve, preparing to take on the Orpheum for the first time. He’s standing in the exact same place as that one memory, when he’d been talking to her. They’d both been so happy, so exhilarated at the prospect of Sunset Curve’s Orpheum performance. Neither of them had known that Luke, Alex, and Reggie would die that night, permanently taking Luke away from everything he knew best. Away from her.

There’s a slight motion next to him, and Luke freezes before remembering that he’s not alone in the studio. Alex has just walked up beside him, although his friend’s gaze softens when he sees the troubled look on Luke’s face. “You’re thinking about her, aren’t you? You’re thinking about Y/N.” Luke sighs. “Yeah. I just- I can’t believe that all this time had passed. She isn’t here with us, and she didn’t eat those street dogs, so she must not have died. That means she grew up and she’s probably older now. I don’t know what to think about that.”

Alex nods slowly, placing his hand on Luke’s shoulder in a show of comfort. “We left so much behind that it’s hard to think about. If you ever want anyone to talk to, you know we’re all here. Julie too, although that might be more of a difficult conversation.” Luke blows out a slow breath. “That’s the problem. Things are going so well with Julie and the new band and everything that I feel like I should be happier, and I am, and then-” His voice trails off. Alex finishes the sentence for him. “And then you remember what life used to be like.”

Luke walks over to a photo tacked onto the wall. Julie had found some old snapshots of Sunset Curve and set them out in the studio. They were nice to see, but sometimes they tended to hurt instead of inspiring fond memories. One in particular catches his eye- the band and a couple of friends, mere hours before the Sunset Curve show at the Orpheum. It’s a faded Polaroid, showing a group of beaming teenagers pointing up at the Orpheum’s sign glowing in neon lights above them. Look what we’re about to do, they seem to say, look what we never got to finish.

Luke’s eye strays on the far right corner. He’s standing there, arm wrapped around a girl. Y/N. They’re both smiling, although in this shot neither of them are looking at the camera. Instead, they’re both turned towards each other, as if delighted by the simple fact that both of them are together. Luke remembers the details of that night in perfect clarity. They’d all arrived at the Orpheum and taken the photo, and then the boys had headed back to begin their sound checks. Y/N had watched them perform, making friends with a girl who worked at the venue. Rose, who Luke now knows is Julie’s mother.

Y/N always had this easy way of making friends. One smile, a few words, and it was like she’d known a stranger all their life. She and Rose had both cheered when Sunset Curve had finished their warmups, and then looked down at her watch in surprise. She’d said something about how she had to run and do some final checks with the venue staff, and she’d be right back. Y/N had kissed Luke quickly before dashing out the door with a promise that she’d be back in a second. Luke, Alex, and Reggie had disappeared down the block to get some street dogs. By the time Y/N had gotten back, papers and signatures held triumphantly in her hand, it was too late.

Luke doesn’t know what happened after that. He’s not positive that Y/N was there when he died, maybe arriving a few minutes after the fact. He’s not sure if that makes it better or not- although she’d be furious with herself for not being there to save him, Luke knows there was nothing she could have done. Would it have hurt more to be next to him, unable to do anything but watch as he breathed his last, or to have missed the entire thing? He supposes Y/N has had years to think the issue over.

Luke turns away from the photograph. His legs are itching to take him away, his heart racing to find something to do. The band doesn’t have practice today, so there’s nothing to distract him from the awful loneliness beating against his chest. He has to do something to get away from all of this, from the memories and the photographs and the knowledge that he had left the girl he loved behind and there was nothing to do to get her back. Luke mumbles something to Alex about how he’s going to take a walk, then poofs out of the studio, no clear destination in mind.

Luke reappears in the middle of a path. At first, he’s not quite sure where he is. There’s a line of pavement under his feet, leading away in front of him. Spring green boughs wave overhead, framing the way before him. The trees eventually clear out to form a clearing, and only then does Luke realize where he is. It’s the local cemetery, the place where all of Luke’s family have been buried. The place where surely he, too, lies at rest. His head must have some twisted sense of humor to bring him here.

Luke wavers one last moment, then decides to take off down the path. He’s never actually visited his own grave, as it seemed too morbid an activity to actually set out and do, but if he’s already here he might as well see it. There’s some sort of curiosity affixed to seeing your own headstone, weird as that may be, and at least now he can glance at it once and forget about it.

Luke passes between the long lines of gravestones, reading through the names. It’s late afternoon, and there’s almost nobody here at all. At least, there isn’t anybody here except one woman, who’s crouching before a headstone in the middle of the cemetery. On second thought, she appears to be around the place where Luke’s family is buried. As he walks over, he realizes that this woman is actually next to his grave. 

She’s speaking quietly. “Nothing much happened today, but it’s a Saturday, so I had to drop by anyway.” Her head drops. “You’ve been gone for 25 years. Can you believe that? 25. I miss you still.” A bittersweet smile cracks her lips, and Luke’s heart twists at the pain in her voice. “I have children now. They’re just beginning to enter double digits. At some point, they’ll be older than you. I wish you could have met them, Luke. I think you’d like them a lot.”

Luke’s head flies up when she says his name. The way she said it sounded so familiar, like he’s heard this woman before. Like he knows her, and knows her very well. The woman freezes slightly- she must have seen his small motion out of the corner of her eye. But that doesn’t make sense, because lifers aren’t supposed to see ghosts like Luke. Yet the woman still stands, lightly brushing dirt off of her legs. “Sorry, I’ll get out of your way. Didn’t see you there.”

The woman turns to face Luke, and her eyes widen. She stands for a moment, staring, and then her voice comes again, faltering and weak. “Luke?” She looks away from him, studying her own hands as if expecting them to be ghostly and translucent. “But you’re dead. How can you be here- Am I dead?” Luke shakes his head. “No, you’re not dead. I mean, I am, but I’m a, uh, ghost. You’re not a ghost. At least I don’t think so.” Luke’s voice trails off when the woman looks at him again. When she’s finally turned towards him, her face seems so familiar. It takes him a moment, and then he realizes who she is. “Y/N.”

It has to be her. There’s no way around it. Indeed, the second her name passes through his lips he knows it’s true. The Y/N standing before him is far older now, maybe in her late thirties or early forties. That would make sense, wouldn’t it? They were teenagers when he died, and if it’s been 25 years since then, she would have to be older. A slight lump forms in Luke’s throat. What would it have been like if he hadn’t died? Would he have been like this too? Would they have grown old together?

Y/N rubs a hand over her face as if in shock. “This makes no sense. I mean, you sound just like yourself and everything but-” Luke laughs quietly. “But ghosts aren’t real.” Y/N gestures loosely with her hand. “Exactly.” Her eyes flicker over him again, taking in every detail of his face as if committing it to memory. This small action itself is so strange to see- Luke remembers Y/N doing this at shows and practices, and it doesn’t feel right to see this similarity in a version of Y/N that is so much older, especially when Luke himself is still a teenager.

Luke’s voice is quiet. “Do you always visit my grave?” Y/N nods. “Every other Saturday. I think your mom and dad come all the time too. I try to give them some space.” She looks back at him, as if she can understand what he’s thinking. “We haven’t moved on so easily. There was a time right after you died when I thought we never would. I didn’t see how the earth could keep turning without my boys. And then the years kept passing by, and although the pain never got any easier we learned how to be happy too, how to keep the grief but remember you with brighter memories instead.”

She smiles, although her eyes are tinged with pain. “I’m married now.” She holds up her hand, and Luke’s gaze is drawn to the ring on her finger. “I think you’d like him a lot. We have two children, a boy and a girl. They know your parents well, we get together all the time. They supported me when I was in over my head, they pulled me out of a well when I was drowning in grief. I check in on them, and they check in on me. We were trying to do right by you.”

Luke feels like his legs are about to collapse underneath him. To see Y/N like this, so much older and calmer, feels like an earthquake tearing him apart. He doesn’t know why, but some part of him had almost assumed that she wouldn’t grow old either, that if he looked hard enough he could find her and they could be the same again. He knows now that he was wrong, although the sight of Y/N is still so reflexively exhilarating that he doesn’t know what to do with himself.

Luke forces himself to speak. “Are you- are you happy? Now, with your family?” Y/N nods, a radiant smile breaking out across her face. “I’m incredibly happy. Things are good now, and they’re going to keep being good for a very long time.” She looks at him, seeing the questions he’s too afraid to ask. “I’m sorry that things happened the way they did. I would have liked nothing more than to see you shine on that stage and have your star career the way that we always planned. I have a feeling that you’ve got a new chance now, a way to move on. I’d take it. You’ve always been able to stay on your feet and keep running forward. Don’t let that go.”

Luke nods. “Thank you, Y/N.” They exchange their goodbyes and then Luke disappears back into the trees. After a moment or two of walking, he poofs back into the studio. Luke walks on leaden limbs towards his songwriting notebook, flinging it open and reaching for a pencil. He turns to one page in particular, a song he’d begun writing for Y/N a few days before their performance at the Orpheum. He changes some lines, adds new chords, transposes the song from a major to a minor key. He doesn’t know how long he sits there, but when he looks up at last, the song is finished.

The title sits at the top, a blurry gray after recent erasings. ‘Goodbye in C Minor.’ The beautiful start to a love he never got to see through.

[dogcircle-scans]

Do you guys read Natsume fan fictions? I’m new to the fandom and was wondering if you guys have any good recommendations ☺️ and thank you for everything you guys are doing! I’m so happy I can read such high-quality chapters all the time for my favorite manga! 🙏

I only read fanfic for one fandom and that fandom is not Natsume Yuujinchou. But I went around asking different people for recommendations because you asked. I haven’t read any of these fic aside for that one Souko/Reiko fic so I can’t personally vouch for the vast majority of these, but this list is long as hell so there’s bound to at least one fic you’ll enjoy.

Everything will be under the cut. 

Edit: feel free to reply with your own fanfic recommendations and add onto this ask. 

General:

jars and jars of jam by adventureboots

“natori no u just gotta learn to accept that touko san will give u homemade jam now and that u and natsume are friends: the fic”

Rating: G

Word Count: 4,929

The First Law by DarthNickels

“The world of humans is vastly different from the world of the spirits, and sometimes serious miscommunications occur. Naturally, Natsume finds himself directly in the middle of an enormous one.”

Rating: G

Word Count: 8,375

Bodyguard (carry me, carry you) by Shycraft 

“Madara watches.”

Rating: T

Word Count: 1,932

Grass Whistle by FoxWitch

“’I'll lend you these. It won't be a huge difference, but it couldn't hurt.’ Tanuma accepted the object, finding it to be a pair a glasses.”

Rating: G

Word Count: 4,333

A Song on the Autumn Breeze by spoilers

“When she was young, Taki and her grandfather ventured out onto the mountain to search for a visiting spirit. After finding his map in her grandfather's papers, Taki, Natsume, and Tanuma make the trip themselves.” 

Rating: G

Word Count: 718

Three for Family by NightsMistress

“The more Touko hears about Natsume Takashi, the more confused she becomes. The stories she hears are of a selfish child acting out for attention, or worse, but all she can see is a sad, lost child in need of a place to put down roots so that he can settle his mind.”

Rating: T

Word Count: 3,564

a time to come by ezri

It’s about “mortality.”

Rating: G

Word Count: 828

The Human Mask by harunekonya 

“From the time I was a small, I've been able to see strange things. Since nobody else can see them, they are probably what you would call spirits. And now I am one of them.”

Rating: G

Word Count: 182,225 

Note: apparently this fic is being reposted onto ao3 with the author’s permission, so if you’re like me and find ff.net super cursed, here’s the link.

night blindness by persepoline

A youkai AU.

Rating: G

Word Count: 15,641

Calling You Home by paperwar

“Five moments Natsume shared with Shigeru.“

Rating: G

Word Count: 2,026

Paper Magic by WerewolvesAreReal

“A youkai being trailed by an exorcist puts the Fujiwaras in comas. Afraid of being forced to leave his home and being passed again between listless relatives, another option presents itself. Natori offers to become Natsume's nominal guardian.”

Rating: G

Word Count: 15,348

Dangerous Game by FoxInBox_aka_FIB

“Natsume is clutched in the jaws of the true form of the creature he has trusted for so long, and Natori feels fury curl in his chest, along with a deep and aching sorrow. This will destroy Natsume, to have his beast and all the beings he had probably counted as friends turn on him like this.”

Rating: Not Rated

Word Count: 1,599

the subtle grace of gravity by egelantier

“Five times the Fujiwaras surprise Natsume (including that one time when Natsume absolutely fails to surprise them in turn).”

Rating: G

Word Count: 8,000

Finding Home by darkcyan

“On a school trip...Tanuma's teacher and about half of his classmates disappear. Everyone must figure out how to deal with this changed world, and the new dangers it has brought with it.”

Rating: T

Word Count: 23,763

in this house by ezri

It’s about Natsume and Birthdays.

Rating: G

Word Count: 1,289

The color-changing kimono by bereshit001

“There is a strange kimono on the top of a tree that exorcists use to measure their strength. Inspired by the volume 17. special chapters.”

Rating: G

Word Count: 813

A Simple Detour by Hazelnuthelper

AU where Madara is unsealed much earlier and meets Natsume as a child.

Rating: Not Rated

Word Count: 10,567

The ones that come after by taizi

“a collection of oneshots about all the good people who come into natsume's life after all the bad”

Rating: T

Word Count: 72,751

like dawn breaking over the horizon by aloneintherain

“sickfic! natsume, touko san, and others being cute”

Rating: Not Rated

Word Count: 3,970

like religion by WerewolvesAreReal

“Natsume would like to make it clear that this is all the dog's fault. (OR: how to become a god, by accident).”

Rating: G

Word Count: 6,894

MatoNato:

belomancy by erzi

“In which Matoba is going to f*cking die.”

Rating: T

Word Count: 22,758

left you with the ghosts by erzi

“A bit of a Matoba character study.”

Rating: T

Word Count: 11,980

in the nook of a cousin universe by akitania

“Natori captures a youkai, learns a thing or two about divination, and considers a future that might have been.”

Rating: G

Word Count: 2,256

passing the dark by persepoline

“Sleuthy MatoNatos.”

Rating: M

Word Count: 4,755

i am (am not) actually a cat by meowtoba

"Matoba Seiji is transformed into a cat by sheer bad luck and a youkai's curse.”

Rating: G

Word Count: 9,098

crossroads by darkcyan, meguri_aite

“Shuuichi wasn’t sure which question felt odder on the tongue; Matoba and rent-splitting were strange bedpersons in one sentence.”

Rating: T

Word Count: 6,874

The Summoning by meguri_aite

“Matoba Seiji is on the floor of his living room. And he is bleeding.”

Rating: T

Word Count: 6,796

TanuNatsu:

now we’re here, now is fine by crazybeagle, twelvenervouscats (crazybeagle)

"’Honestly. You’re both being morons and martyrs for no reason at all.’”

Rating: Not Rated

Word Count: 29,198

The Green Plastic Table by Spades 44

AU where Tanuma has healing magic + Natsume and him suck at communicating.

Rating: T

Word Count: 63,190 

Note: this fic is hosted on ff.net.

ephemeral by ghostcribs

"I wish we could stay here forever."

Word Count: 1,171

Rating: G

Cold Hands by ghostcribs 

Natsume’s reluctance in letting Tanuma in comes with some consequences. 

Rating: G

Word Count: 6,906

Aftermath by Mayorofcattown

“The short cut home that took Tanuma much longer than he expected.“

Rating: G

Word Count: 4,264

Misc Ships:

flickering blue by kornevable

An alternate ending to the “Tell Me Your Name” two-parter.

Ship: Reiko/Souko

Rating: G

Word Count: 1,731

[skiasurveys]

523

bold what applies

I like to consider the idea of getting a PhD.

It scares me to make commitments regarding my future.

Comparing myself to others is the #1 thing that makes me feel upset.

I get really annoying and chatty when I’m scared.

I enjoy memorizing things, be it poems, sequences of numbers, or whatever.

After it storms, it interests me to drive around and see all the downed trees and damage.

I imagine that ordinary things are magical and it makes life more fun.

Sometimes I say things in a stupid accent for no reason.

I love playing and usually win at trivia games.

I am eagerly anticipating receiving something in the mail.

I usually feel shitty after scrolling through my Facebook Newsfeed.

Sometimes after hearing a song in a movie scene, I gain a whole new appreciation for the song.

I don’t like it when rooms have walls that are not all the same color.

I hate when there’s a cute guy around and I want him to talk to me but he doesn’t.

I enjoy cleaning out and organizing my iTunes.

I prefer sociology over psychology.

I would describe myself as quite quiet but friendly.

I tend to have dreams where I’m intensely angry more often than I have dreams where I am scared.

I am terrified to ever have to write a college thesis.

Clothes rarely fit me right off the rack. It’s discouraging and annoying.

I will defend the things I love TO THE GRAVE.

I have played the game Skylanders and it’s absolutely adorable and fun.

As cheesy as it sounds, looking into the mirror and saying positive things really helps my self-esteem.

It’s easy for my imagination to get going and I spook myself easily.

It bothers me a bit when celebrities get to write and publish novels.

Bad writing inspires me to write most, because I think, “if people enjoy THAT, they’ll definitely enjoy what I can write.”

I really never want to get pregnant.

I have tried almond milk, rice milk, and soy milk.

Something that bothers me more than when someone says something offensive, is when someone else defends the offensive statement.

I never wanted to be a princess when I was little.

I adore old houses, especially if they’re “haunted.”

I’m terribly embarrassed of my past self.

I love the taste of garlic in food, but garlic breath grosses me out so much.

I really enjoy old horror movies.

I keep on remembering songs I haven’t listened to in years because of Songpop.

^ which is the first Facebook game I have ever enjoyed…

Mikhail Baryshnikov is one of my idols.

English is not my first language, but usually people can’t tell immediately.

I have a secret notebook which no one even knows exists and I would rather die than have anyone read it.

My current roommates are the best I’ve had so far.

Good posture really attracts me in someone of my preferred gender.

^ as do strong, maintained eyebrows.

I can’t really function with an Apple computer, lack of experience with those.

I don’t feel emotions the way ”normal” people do.

I don’t own a soft wallet, mine is plastic.

I tend to date men with power positions when it comes to their jobs.

No matter how hard I try, I seem to be unable to whistle.

Good manners are quite important to me.

I was once very involved in a certain sport.

I actually really enjoy cleaning my ears. hahahaha.

I refuse to eat ketchup on anything.

I often sigh really loudly by accident.

I much prefer the colder seasons to summer.

When I feel extra fancy, I fishtail my hair. It is incidentally the fanciest thing I can do with it.

I am a master at getting along with people when I try, because I am very good at figuring out how they want me to react and what they expect me to say, and if I don’t care about them and can’t be bothered to interact properly, I go into that mode.

I refuse to mow the grass, for some reason it terrifies me.

I get pretty bad season allergies.

I don’t eat pork.

My blood type is O positive.

I have ghostly pale skin.

Singlespeed bikes are my favourite.

I have never used shaving cream in my entire life. I never saw any repercussions.

I feel most people I have met in my life would do better if they toughened up.

I have a bigger problem with people who think that feminism has anything to do with hating or belittling men than with people who don’t identify to the feminist movement.

I have struggled with drug use in the past.

I have never used a credit card.

This year, I will vote for something on a national level.

There is absolutely no carpet in my flat.

Currently, I have no interest in learning how to drive.

The job I want to do after school is rather uncommon.

One of my favourite drinks is Kvass. :s :s :s

I cook a lot, and enjoy it very much.

I am a daddy’s girl, by far.

My longest relationship was a long-distance one.

One of my favourite bands is Iron Maiden.

I am unable to write in print, I actually have to stop and remember not to write in cursive after every letter.

When I was a child, I had the ”by myself” syndrome and refused any help from anyone to do whatever.

It still hasn’t changed much, haha.

My computer tends to overheat quite often.

Fiddler on the Roof is my favourite musical.

I have an incredibly high alcohol tolerance.

My phone is always dead.

Indian food is my favourite ethnic cuisine.

My mother works in psychology.

My father works in the cooking industry. He also works in the music industry.

I feel very hot at the moment, and I get anxiety when I’m too hot.

I’m pretty picky about things in general.

However, I refuse to pick a restaurant when asked.

I don’t bite my nails.

I have a piece of jewelry representing a flag on my body at all times.

I seldom shave my legs, my hair grows very slowly. :P

I used to be pretty active in the survey community, and only just recently came back.

Only one person in my family has had a serious disease such as cancer.

I have no idea how much I weigh.

Or how tall I

1. i am currently on facebook.

2. i like the band maroon 5.

3. I have hugged some of my best buddies today.

4. I have hugged someone I like today.

5. I think Bonzai waterslides are amazing.

6. i put hair clips in my hair almost everyday.

7. Hubba Bubba gum = yum.

8. I think 5 gum is disgusting.

9. I hate when I take a shower, my hair gets my back all wet.

10. It really hurts when someone hits you with a sock!

11. dachshunds are adorable.

12. I have never played chess before.

13. I don’t really care for instrumental songs.

14. i put my ipod on shuffle, but then i end up skipping half of the songs anyway.

15. i love brother/sister relationships.

16. ^I have one with someone.

17. i’m usually invisible on aim.

18. I feel like I repeat myself on every survey.

19. Today was really fun.

20. I am messaging someone through Facebook at this moment.

21. i hate when people become impatient when you are trying to do something.

22. ^Although I do.

23. All that I wanted to hear from you, something of value, something untrue.

24. People never seem to answer on AIM.

25. My cat always walk in front of my computer screen.

26. My cat is sitting on the desk right now.

27. i don’t like it when people come and watch what i’m doing on my computer.

28. i never publish any of my entries to facebook.

29. ^I don’t understand why you would.

30. I enjoy countdown surveys.

[deeeelightfuldee]

bold what applies I like to consider the idea of getting a PhD.

It scares me to make commitments regarding my future.

Comparing myself to others is the #1 thing that makes me feel upset.

I get really annoying and chatty when I’m scared.

I enjoy memorizing things, be it poems, sequences of numbers, or whatever.

After it storms, it interests me to drive around and see all the downed trees and damage.

I imagine that ordinary things are magical and it makes life more fun.

Sometimes I say things in a stupid accent for no reason.

I love playing and usually win at trivia games.

I am eagerly anticipating receiving something in the mail.

I usually feel shitty after scrolling through my Facebook Newsfeed.

Sometimes after hearing a song in a movie scene, I gain a whole new appreciation for the song.

I don’t like it when rooms have walls that are not all the same color.

I hate when there’s a cute guy around and I want him to talk to me but he doesn’t.

I enjoy cleaning out and organizing my iTunes.

I prefer sociology over psychology.

I would describe myself as quite quiet but friendly.

I tend to have dreams where I’m intensely angry more often than I have dreams where I am scared.

I am terrified to ever have to write a college thesis.

Clothes rarely fit me right off the rack. It’s discouraging and annoying.

I will defend the things I love TO THE GRAVE.

I have played the game Skylanders and it’s absolutely adorable and fun.

As cheesy as it sounds, looking into the mirror and saying positive things really helps my self-esteem.

It’s easy for my imagination to get going and I spook myself easily.

It bothers me a bit when celebrities get to write and publish novels.

Bad writing inspires me to write most, because I think, “if people enjoy THAT, they’ll definitely enjoy what I can write.”

I really never want to get pregnant.

I have tried almond milk, rice milk, and soy milk.

Something that bothers me more than when someone says something offensive, is when someone else defends the offensive statement.

I never wanted to be a princess when I was little.

I adore old houses, especially if they’re “haunted.”

I’m terribly embarrassed of my past self.

I love the taste of garlic in food, but garlic breath grosses me out so much.

I really enjoy old horror movies.

I keep on remembering songs I haven’t listened to in years because of Songpop.

^ which is the first Facebook game I have ever enjoyed…

Mikhail Baryshnikov is one of my idols.

English is not my first language, but usually people can’t tell immediately.

I have a secret notebook which no one even knows exists and I would rather die than have anyone read it.

My current roommates are the best I’ve had so far.

Good posture really attracts me in someone of my preferred gender.

^ as do strong, maintained eyebrows.

I can’t really function with an Apple computer, lack of experience with those.

I don’t feel emotions the way ”normal” people do.

I don’t own a soft wallet, mine is plastic.

I tend to date men with power positions when it comes to their jobs.

No matter how hard I try, I seem to be unable to whistle.

Good manners are quite important to me.

I was once very involved in a certain sport.

I actually really enjoy cleaning my ears. hahahaha.

I refuse to eat ketchup on anything.

I often sigh really loudly by accident.

I much prefer the colder seasons to summer.

When I feel extra fancy, I fishtail my hair. It is incidentally the fanciest thing I can do with it.

I am a master at getting along with people when I try, because I am very good at figuring out how they want me to react and what they expect me to say, and if I don’t care about them and can’t be bothered to interact properly, I go into that mode.

I refuse to mow the grass, for some reason it terrifies me.

I get pretty bad season allergies.

I don’t eat pork.

My blood type is O positive.

I have ghostly pale skin.

Singlespeed bikes are my favourite.

I have never used shaving cream in my entire life. I never saw any repercussions.

I feel most people I have met in my life would do better if they toughened up.

I have struggled with drug use in the past.

I have never used a credit card.

This year, I will vote for something on a national level.

There is absolutely no carpet in my flat.

Currently, I have no interest in learning how to drive.

The job I want to do after school is rather uncommon.

One of my favourite drinks is Kvass. :s :s :s

I cook a lot, and enjoy it very much.

I am a daddy’s girl, by far.

My longest relationship was a long-distance one.

One of my favourite bands is Iron Maiden.

I am unable to write in print, I actually have to stop and remember not to write in cursive after every letter.

When I was a child, I had the ”by myself” syndrome and refused any help from anyone to do whatever.

It still hasn’t changed much, haha.

My computer tends to overheat quite often.

Fiddler on the Roof is my favourite musical.

I have an incredibly high alcohol tolerance.

My phone is always dead.

Indian food is my favourite ethnic cuisine.

My mother works in psychology.

My father works in the cooking industry. He also works in the music industry.

I feel very hot at the moment, and I get anxiety when I’m too hot.

I’m pretty picky about things in general.

However, I refuse to pick a restaurant when asked.

I have a piece of jewelry representing a flag on my body at all times.

I used to be pretty active in the survey community, and only just recently came back.

Only one person in my family has had a serious disease such as cancer.

I have no idea how much I weigh.

Or how tall I

1. i am currently on facebook.

2. i like the band maroon 5.

3. I have hugged some of my best buddies today.

4. I have hugged someone I like today.

5. I think Bonzai waterslides are amazing.

6. i put hair clips in my hair almost everyday.

7. Hubba Bubba gum = yum.

8. I think 5 gum is disgusting.

9. I hate when I take a shower, my hair gets my back all wet.

10. It really hurts when someone hits you with a sock!

11. dachshunds are adorable.

12. I have never played chess before.

13. I don’t really care for instrumental songs.

14. i put my ipod on shuffle, but then i end up skipping half of the songs anyway.

15. i love brother/sister relationships.

16. ^I have one with someone.

17. i’m usually invisible on aim.

18. I feel like I repeat myself on every survey.

19. Today was really fun.

20. I am messaging someone through Facebook at this moment.

21. i hate when people become impatient when you are trying to do something.

22. ^Although I do.

23. All that I wanted to hear from you, something of value, something untrue.

24. People never seem to answer on AIM.

25. My cat always walk in front of my computer screen.

26. My cat is sitting on the desk right now.

27. i don’t like it when people come and watch what i’m doing on my computer.

28. i never publish any of my entries to facebook.

29. ^I don’t understand why you would.

30. I enjoy countdown surveys.

[philomenafm]

(NATALIA DYER, DEMI GIRL) - Have you seen PHILOMENA CARMICHAEL? PHILLY is in HER/THEIR SOPHOMORE year. The WILDLIFE SCIENCE MAJOR is 20 years old & is a TAURUS. People say SHE/THEY are WHIMSICAL, PATIENT, APATHETIC and UNPREDICTABLE. Rumors say they’re a member of CALLOWAY. I heard from the gossip blog that SHE CONCEALED MURDEROUS EVIDENCE  (JAMES. 21. EST. THEY/THEM.)

ive done sm switches bt. she is the one. she is the one i love. trust me. ples. this is an old intro n im frankly. too lazy 2 read it bt. i love her a lot shes very good please like her

TW CANCER, TRAUMA, DEPERSONALIZATION / DEREALIZATION DISORDER ( ALT. DISSOCIATION ), DEATH, DECAY, MAGGOTS.

aesthetic.

wildflowers in your hair and bare feet against moss, binoculars and maps, madonna beating out of half-dead speakers in a half-dead van, whipping wind, jumping off cliffs and rolling down hills, a bandaid wrapped around each finger, cryptic bumper stickers and cryptids in the woods, facing the sun and letting the rays hit you, counting stars late into the night, dancing naked in the woods with nothing but fire to light your way, mismatched socks and lucky ribbons, hoarding a box of special treasures, shoplifting and diner-dashing, bleach against roots, pink sweaters paired with ripped fishnets and slip dresses with knock off uggs, willingly wearing crocs, glitter stickers, fungi and feeling one with them, lying down and decomposing, they’ll find us in a week. they’ll find us in a week.

basics.

full name: philomena brontë carmichael

nickname(s): philly, phil, etc.

b.o.d. - april 20th, 2000

label(s): the amaranth, the halycon, the neophyte, the wanderer, etc. etc.

height: 5′4″

hometown: woodside, ca

sexuality: demisexual

pinterest ( & her family pinterest b/c they’re my most developed family uwu)

stats

favorite song: wonderfully bizarre, bendigo fletcher / we can be defined by the things we want / i’ll be a life full of free haircuts from the one that i love / we’ll collect fallen out teeth in a candy jar / mice for the backyard peregrine falcon reservation.

background.

a middle child belonging to christopher and imogen carmichael - two stanford professors. christopher specialized in british literature whilst imogen specialized in the classics. hence the name.

the order of siblings goes as such: lysander, elektra, juno, philomena, and twins orion & valora. the deal was that everybody had a greek (or in juno’s case, roman) first name and a middle name inspired by a piece of british literature circa 1800s and under. a family of nerds, if you will.

so, clearly - right off the bat, their parents are … eccentric. they’re both in love with their respected topic, and with each other, and with their kids. the carmichael family is a happy family.

they each have their own quirks and whatnot - though philly’s always been particularly dreamy - even as a child, she’d spend hours watching clouds or caterpillars or the leaves blow in the wind rather than play with other kids. she wasn’t a shy kid - she just had her own interests.

hardship doesn’t hit the family until philomena is five and starts having splitting headaches. they’re slow at first - but as soon as she’s seeing spots and unable to walk in a straight line, doctor appointments are made.

it doesn’t take long for them to discover the tumor, though the official diagnosis of malignant ependymoma comes a month later.

it’s grade ii but slow-moving, small enough to not be as much of a threat as worried, but big enough where removal is necessary. philomena earns a scar and brings it in for show-and-tell. for two months afterwards, philly’s at radiotherapy monday through friday.

they’re lucky - philomena’s considered cancer-free by the next year. she’s babied at first - handled delicately, as if she could break if touched - but with five other children … it doesn’t last for too long.

and life continues as normal.

her personality doesn’t shift much over the next few years - she’s awfully independent for a kid, and awfully quiet - when she speaks it’s about faeries and bigfoot, about how the sky is so blue and if you listen quietly, you can hear the leaves whisper their secrets to each other. this is not odd.

she’s close to all her siblings, but she idolizes her older sister - elektra. elektra’s six years older and dyes her hair whatever colors she wants. elektra bought a knife off a seedy guy downtown. elektra threw away all of her heels and renounced god. elektra is god. her music is loud but it’s not heavy - it’s florence and the machine.

they’re opposites - elektra’s boisterous and feels loudly, philomena’s softer and feels…less. when elektra sneaks out, philomena keeps watch. they are a duo.

philomena is smart - but she’s fifteen and hates school. hates sitting inside all day. hates the same routine - day after day - it’s all the same. her parents’ routine is the same, philly feels contained and she wants to live.

elektra’s twenty-one and just bought a brand new spanking (used but not falling apart) 19-something volkswagen … van - using her entire savings account. she says she’s tired of routine, she’s leaving the next day.

naturally, philomena stows away in the back and isn’t discovered until they’re two states away and she’s got to pee. elektra nearly crashes the van in shock.

it’s an argument - philomena vs. elektra, then them vs. their parents, then their parents vs. the school, the state - it’s an ordeal. philomena switches to an online program in the end.

it hurts christopher and imogen - lysander’s not having any of their nonsense, juno’s betrayed and alone - the twins are twins. in the end, it’s alright. the carmichael family is a happy family.

philomena and elektra take their time - it’s not a road trip, it’s their new life, permanently on the road. they stop and explore often - they do odd jobs in whatever town they settle in. they dine-n-dash, they shoplift. they survive in their own way.

during particularly desperate times, they two resorted to identity theft & credit fraud - getting away with it only by ditching the cards once they’ve made it out of state.

she drops out of high school officially when she’s seventeen - they have to drive all the way back to california to deal with the wrath of their parents and to deal with paperwork, but it’s done. philomena doesn’t know what path she wants in life - but it’s not that.

it’s during this time that the episodes occur - philomena’s outside her body, philomena’s wrapped in cotton, her memories are not her own. she’s looking in the mirror and she doesn’t recognize herself. they take shelter in a city for six months, long enough for her brand spankin’ new therapist to figure out what’s wrong with her. she’s diagnosed with depersonalization / derealization disorder - they think it’s stress. philomena doesn’t get stressed. they think it’s trauma. she laughs - she never laughs.

there is trauma though, deep-rooted but somewhere inside - you just have to look for it.

you. just. have. to. look. for. it. look for it. look for it. look for it look for it look -

you were ten and she was thirteen, an off-trail hike in familiar woods in a familiar town, safe and familiar. it was your idea, to stray from the carved out paths, down creeks and up hills and round, and round again. you’re the one who spotted the scarf first, sticking up from the dirt and dancing in the wind like the beginning of reincarnation. it was not reincarnation, it was discovery. it was ruin. with curiosity drawn, you skidded down - with compliance, followed juno, followed your sister - clumsy in her steps and tumbling down quicker than you. you saw the corpse, but juno felt it. decaying flesh and maggot.

and she left juno, just like that - just five years later, when juno had finally gone to the end of her wits. philly up and left. abandoned her.

philomena and elektra leave the city after that therapy session. they do not return. she’s always been good at hiding her secrets.

three years later and her parents want philly to have a higher education - desperate for it, really - worried for her future. it’s a battle that she loses, getting her ged and applying to a local college in florida in shameful compliance.

they’re there for a year until philly gets (expectantly) expelled from the community college & the two of them are banned from the town they’d residing in up until that point. they don’t talk about it - but boy, was it one hell of a time.

they found refuge in preaker, a town that seemed to suit them well - it suited elektra’s desire to travel up and down the east coast, and it intrigued philomena enough to the point of her being content with staying. soon after, philly officially transferred to yates for her freshmen spring term & theyve been here since.

(whenever anna brings cillian uh. he’s in here too he’s been traveling w them fr like 3ish years. i just cannot rewrite atm KDSGLSDKLGKFGHLKSL bt hes here. n hes sexy. n we love him. bro3tp)

OH. hey yeah the secret. errmm. tht’s on cillian. philly just hid the evidence. no they didnt kill someone yes they did no they did not <3 yes

personality & facts.

she’s quiet but she’s confident - her voice sounds like rustling leaves, if leaves smoked a pack of cigarettes a day.

often underestimated - philly’s petite and looks like she’d fall over if a plastic bag blew too close to her. she’s independent - for the most part. elektra is the only person philly takes orders from.

has always been considered odd - weird, strange. still talks about the trees as if they’re listening, as if they’re old friends. she’s vague and doesn’t elaborate on the things she says.

believes in pretty much any superstition you throw her way. luck is very important to her. if you ask her if the earth is flat, she’ll say probably. believes strongly in bigfoot and the lochness monster. has personally seen aliens, and loves ghosts almost more than herself.

she can be amusing - whether you ‘get’ her or not, her outlook is often bright - she talks about the negatives the same way she talks about the positives. can be seen as naive or gullible, but she’s plenty smart. even if half of her education has come directly from google.

philly doesn’t laugh. a smile, yes - often, in fact - not always reaching her ears, or bearing teeth - but these are not indicators of her happiness. philly is consistently content. she thinks many things are funny - she still will not laugh.

her voice is often monotonous - she doesn’t sound dreary, she sounds far-away. her voice carries. her emotions are often unknown to others.

is apathetic in most situations. she’s hard to bother - she’s incredibly patient and enjoys the company of most - tolerates them at the very least. it’s hard for her to express her emotions, because she feels them so little that it’s very nearly not worth it. her affection is not verbal - it’s small touches and gestures of kindness, love in her own way.

is a fan of knock-knock jokes and bad puns. she won’t crack a smile while telling you them, nor does she expect you to laugh. she just enjoys them.

she owns a motorola razr covered in puffy stickers - hasn’t ever had a smartphone. she’s a fan of emoticons. her favorite is :o)

has a lot of bruises and scratches and scars - she’s often getting herself into pickles. there are always, at the very minimum, three bandaids on each hand.

she has insomnia, so she’s awake often. is often seen wandering town - even when she shouldn’t be, even when it might be dangerous. her intuition is delayed. when she does sleep - her dreams are vivid and fantastical.

keeps a box of memories - sentimental bits and pieces she’s picked up over the last few years. there are a lot of buttons and postcards, but any teeny tiny object will do.

her style changes every week - most, if not all, of her clothes are thrifted. one week she’s baby spice and the next she’s lydia deetz. she combines pieces from different styles often - she looks like a barbie clothed by a child. she feels most comfortable like this.

will either patch-up the clothes that get too worn or reuse them in some way. sometimes donates the clothes she gets tired off - isn’t minimalistic, but she’s learned to keep only a small amount of possessions.

the only consistency is her lucky ribbon - it’s pastel yellow and silky and as thin as a shoelace. she ties it onto her outfit of the day, everyday. if she loses it, she’s lost. elektra has a matching ribbon (& so does leo fowler eyes emoji)

has no problem with minor theft - she only takes bare minimum, puts herself and elektra first and that’s how it’s always been. she tries to be good while in preaker / yates - would hate to be forced out by mobs with torches and pitchforks

currently living in calloway while elektra stays in their van, florence - sometimes philly stays there during the weekends.

they used to live in motels on the occasion, the cheapest room, and more often than not they’d both go home with strangers for a comfier bed and a hotter shower.

it was a common occurrence - she didn’t sleep with them - but somehow, she weaseled her way into their homes anyway. has come out mostly unscathed, on most occasions. this has been a practice ever since they’ve been on the road.

really, truly - has not slept with anybody, had her first and only kiss at thirteen with a frog. this doesn’t bother her. edit: her first & only kisses hv been w leo fowler. this is important

will consume anything you put in front of her - isn’t picky.

listens to whatever they’ve picked up along the way but she likes instrumentals the best. her second favorite genre is 1990′s and 2000′s top hits. they’re nostalgic for her. third favorites? florence, of course. fleetwood mac. the bird and the bee.

loves storms - will go out in the rain and will risk her life for it.

owns a pair of roller-skates and is often skating rather than walking. unless she’s on grass - then she’s walking barefoot.

has many hobbies, and gets bored of them often. her favorite hobby is welding. she’s not certified.

also, juggling.

also, accordion.

the kind of girl who’ll do any job you give her. odd jobs are her favorite jobs. babysitting is her least favorite - but she does it anyway. has lost children before. have they ever been found? not by philly.

dyes her hair blonde often and cuts her own hair - bangs included - finds it cathartic, likes the itchiness of bleach.

everything she does is often in pursuit of feeling free, alive, and meaningful.

( like her frequent visits to the woods, late at night when the moon is high and full. it’s freeing to dance around a fire, stark naked in the cold. builds immunity )

comes and goes wherever she pleases, nothing & nobody can stop her. she knows to respect nature. exudes natural trust energy <3 dont know wht tht means but

the trust expands to animals as well, she has a certain knack for getting them to like her. has too many ‘pet’ rats that reside with her, alongside a baby raccoon & a few crow pals. has a new animal companion everyday, but she doesn’t contain them or force them to stay. edit: she hs a tabby cat named pail, now. named in honor of her mother, bucket.

leaves her window in calloway wide open because of this, because her window is conveniently right besides a tree with sturdy branches. good for animal smuggling, sneaking in and out, hiding, etc. etc. world is her oyster.

though her room in calloway is ??? frankly a mess ??? already ??? usually keeps most of her possessions in her memory box but she’s also turned her room into a mini labyrinth of knick-knacks. very cozy, but very nest-like. think of howl’s room from howl’s moving castle.

wanted connections.

how did you get in here ;; someone whose room she perhaps crashed at late at night, mysteriously. she refuses to explain where she’s come from. she’s gone before you wake. they could literally not know her at all she’s just sleeping halfway under their bed like <3 thank you <3

ma’am this is a wendys ;;  someone who sees her constantly <3 doing outlandish shit <3 bc lets b real. shes weird. shes a weirdo. why do u think she wears the same hat everyday. (she doesnt wear hats often) anyways. they probably dnt even like her? just think shes very strange?

im literally going to dissect you ;;  someone who. wants to figure out philly. pick at her brain. wear her shoes. kind of in the same category of above in this general like. ur fkn weird. bt they wna figure out why <3 they wna play therapist <3 jokes on u she hates therapists

liddle thief in the night ;; someone who has caught her stealing. or dining n dashing. either/or. perhaps both. she steals a lot :/

oh like. friends n stuff ;; of any closeness. ppl she talks 2 conspiracies with, ppl she goes on late night walks with, ppl she explores with, ppl she steals with, ppl she smokes with, etc. etc. ppl who bring her out to parties cos they like her funky little ways when she gets drunk n tries to climb atop everything <3 

thts nice. anyways ;; this is fr like. literally anything unrequited. philly doesnt like <3 a lot of ppl <3 In That Way. so its basically just. ur muse thinks shes very neat n she thinks ur muse is very neat bt platonically. she doesnt do hookups or anything n if she does i tend 2 like. run purely based off of chemistry even with. most of her connections in general.

uuhh. anything ;; HLKDGKSDLKGHLKSFDSHGKFD i nvr rly hv a lot of connections up fr philly bc shes like. a very unpredictable muse n i think its usually better to just. throw her in! n see wht happens! we cn still plot obv n come up w some fun things bt fr the most part shes very organic

[aion-rsa]

The 21 Best Christmas Horror Movies

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Technicolor lights are about to illuminate every other home in the neighborhood; carolers are marching through the streets; even that old tree in Rockefeller is shining brightly.

For some folks, that’s enough to make you want to grab an axe. But don’t do that. Watch demented men dressed as Santa Claus or a demon Krampus indulge your Anti-Christmas sentiments with maximum gore. Indeed, this list isn’t about the most charming, heartwarming, or schmaltzy Christmas viewing traditions. Nah, this is about the 20 grossest, nastiest, and all around most fun Christmas horror movies. The kind where the greatest gift you’re going to get on Christmas morning is escaping with your life and maybe some psychological triggers whenever you see jolly men in red suits.

Yep, these are the very best Christmas horror movies. Ho. Freaking. Ho.

Anna and the Apocalypse (2017)

Almost certainly one of the sweetest, most positive, and upbeat Christmas movies on the list is this wonderful feel good musical romance from director John McPhail, which also happens to be a zombie movie. It follows a group of friends in a small Scottish town who are just about to finish school and are making plans for the future when a zombie outbreak lands. 

Incredibly catchy tunes which take inspiration from Buffy musical episode Once More With Feeling, mix with inventive festive kills – zombie snowman decapitation is a highlight – in a way that manages not to tonally jar. It’s mostly thanks to the super-likeable performances of the young cast, headed up by Ella Hunt, and the teenage troubles, romances, and heartbreak which form the backdrop of the movie. Paul Kaye also pops up as the school’s tyrannical headmaster – his musical numbers aren’t the best but he brings cartoon villain energy to an unusual but rather adorable Christmas horror that’s way better than you might expect.

– Rosie Fletcher

Better Watch Out (2016)

Home Alone is surely one of the most popular and iconic Christmas movies of all time, though it is not, of course, a horror. However, if it was, it would look something like Better Watch Out, a slick reinvention of the home invasion sub-genre. Olivia DeJonge plays babysitter Ashley, who attempts to protect her charge, 12-year-old Luke (Levi Miller), when they are threatened by intruders in his home. But all is not as it seems.

DeJonge and Miller spar beautifully in a movie which plays with gender and coming of age tropes and includes handfuls of gruesome set pieces, while Ed Oxenbould brings comic relief. This is clever, funny and gruesome stuff from director Chris Peckover which might not become a new Christmas tradition but should definitely be watched at least once.

– Rosie Fletcher

Black Christmas (1974)

Getting stabbed by a unicorn head to the tune of carolers singing “Silent Night” is probably not how you want to spend Christmas Eve. This pre-Scream holiday slasher claims its victims in a sorority house haunted by creepy phone calls (sans ghost mask), demonic noises, bodies eerily shrouded in plastic wrap, and one perverse killer whose voice alone is enough to freeze your blood.

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When an unidentified caller keeps harassing your entire sorority house with obscene things you can only half-understand (because he sounds like a deranged Donald Duck that laughs like the Joker), you should run even if it is 10 degrees outside. The blizzard of murders keeps raging with one victim dragged screaming by a hook, and another bludgeoned to death. Never mind the one suffocated by plastic wrap and left next to the window like the vacant face of a doll staring out into the night. You’ll hardly sleep in heavenly peace after this one.

– Elizabeth Rayne 

Christmas Evil (aka You Better Watch Out) (1980)

In his one and only film as writer/director, Lewis Jackson crafted a smart and clever black comedy that’s more character study than straight horror film. John Waters insists it’s a comedy about a closeted transvestite (of a sort), but it’s much more than that—it’s the Taxi Driver of Yuletide shockers. Brandon Maggart plays a man who takes Christmas way too seriously. His home is filled with bright holiday decorations all year-round while Christmas carols are playing on the stereo. Santa is his role model, a symbol of all that is good and just in the world. He even works at a toy factory.

He so identifies with Santa, he takes to spying on the neighbor kids, keeping his own carefully annotated naughty and nice lists. But when he recognizes the level of cynicism and hypocrisy among his co-workers, bosses, and the people around town as the most joyous time of the year approaches, well, he goes a little funny in the head. He reaches for the suit and beard and axe, determined to reward the good and punish the evil.

Maggart has since tried to desperately distance himself from the film, but he gives a remarkable performance here as a completely isolated figure with a head swimming with both joy and rage. In the end, the film remains king of the sub-subgenre. Screw It’s a Wonderful Life and Rudolph. Apart from Blast of Silence and Invasion U.S.A., Christmas Evil is the only holiday film I watch annually.

– Jim Knipfel 

A Christmas Horror Story (2015)

Admittedly, a number of horror-based Christmas movie have gone with the anthology angle for their storytelling. Hell, this isn’t even the only anthology film on this list. A Christmas Horror Story may not be on a lot of people’s radar, but it’s a worthy installment that goes to some unusual places purely because both the Christmas and anthology playgrounds have gotten so bloated at this point. This film also benefits from being executed by a cabal of directors who are responsible for directing some of the best horror movies to come out of Canada in passing years, such as Splice, the Black Christmas remake, and the Ginger Snaps trilogy.

A Christmas Horror Story deliciously uses a radio DJ (William Shatner) as the connective tissue that holds together the four stories that comprise the film. Parables on ghost possession, clone doppelgangers, Krampus, and zombie elves all get their due here. The film also has a pretty inspired ending that actually casts the picture in a whole new light. It’s got Santa Claus fighting Krampus. What’s not to like?

– Daniel Kurland 

Dead of Night (1945)

Never play hide and go seek in a house where someone was murdered. While it might be best known for Michael Redgrave’s night-terror-inducing ventriloquist dummy scene that sparked the phobia of possessed puppets, Dead of Night also invites you to a Christmas party with a spectral guest. Spacecase Sally’s genuine terror at realizing what she thinks she saw is what she really saw will forever have you second-guessing shadows creeping in the cold. 

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What is obvious in this scene—encroaching darkness and shadows looming over what a place you know is haunted without ever having to hear the big reveal—is hardly as chilling as what is not so obvious until the truth silently materializes. The ghost of the little boy plays hide-and-seek with the other children as if warm blood courses through his veins. Unlike many stereotypical see-through phantoms of the era, this one doesn’t have that telltale translucence which would set off a chorus of screams. Being almost disturbingly normal is exactly what makes him so terrifying. 

– Elizabeth Rayne 

Eyes Wide Shut (1999)

Eyes Wide Shut was the non-denominational star at the top of Stanley Kubrick’s Christmas tree. Originally conceived as a Woody Allen vehicle, it almost starred Steve Martin after Allen insisted on reading the script from right to left. It is as much a cautionary tale as Dickens’ A Christmas Carol, bringing the whole family together with a different Christmas tree in almost every frame.  

Kubrick pours on the cheer from the opening sequence at the Christmas party where the first gifts are unwrapped, and oh boy are they unwrapped. Bill Harford, played by Tom Cruise, dives right into the muffled spirit of giving after he performs a more than charitable deed for the party’s host, played by Sydney Pollack.

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Harford spends most of the film looking for the perfect gift like a slow motion version of Jingle All the Way, rushing around from New York City’s famous toy repository FAO Schwartz to downtown specialty shops, to the suburbs, where he can find collectors’ editions. Cruise pays Harford like a wooden windup toy, and not a particularly cute one, either. In spite of all the colorful lights and trips above and below the rainbow, Harford just can’t get into the Christmas spirit. He’s not even moved by the uplifting seasonal tunings of “I Want a Boy for Christmas” by the Del-Vettes. He recovers his seasonal facilities while humming along to the chant during the climactic illuminati sex party, though! The song is actually “Here Comes Santa Claus” sung backwards in Latin, adding more menace to the proceedings than Silas Barnaby brought to Toyland in The March of the Wooden Soldiers.

– Tony Sokol 

Gremlins (1984)

Santa doesn’t exist… unless it’s your father in a red suit who met his untimely end trying to slide down the chimney with a sack of presents before getting stuck. Don’t tell that to the innocent bat-like ears of a harmless (for now) Mogwai. It’s exactly the kind of story you expect to hear while hunkering down in the shadows with a flashlight while a bunch of leathery green things with too many teeth ransack the neighborhood.

And as for Santa? That smell coming from the fireplace weeks later was no dead cat. Worst. Christmas story. Ever. 

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This movie should be on every hardcore horror fan’s holiday playlist just for the musical monstrosity of those reptilian things decked out in Santa hats and earmuffs singing “Deck the Halls” at the neighbors’ door, sheet music and all. This is continuing proof that animals have a sixth sense, because her yowling cat senses something off about the voices warbling “Joy to the World” outside. She’s right to have an aversion to Christmas carolers.

– Elizabeth Rayne 

Holidays (2015)

There have been so many holiday-themed horror films at this point—reaching Christmas and going far, far beyond that—so why not make an anthology film that takes that idea to the extreme? Holidays hits the expected staples such as Christmas, Halloween, and Valentine’s Day, but part of the fun here is how holidays with lesser expectations like Easter or St. Patrick’s Day deliver some truly horrifying content (seriously, the St. Patrick’s Day segment is disturbing, bonkers chaos).

The Christmas segment comes courtesy of Scott Stewart (Legion) and has Seth Green trying to survive the holiday as he attempts to get his son the perfect gift. Stewart’s installment feels very reminiscent of a Black Mirror episode with virtual reality, consumerism, and the dangers of mob mentality all playing their part here.

A lot of these anthology films also try to bank off of the name recognition and notoriety of the assembled directors, but Holidays proudly features a collection of mostly fresh faces (although Kevin Smith and Starry Eye’s Kevin Kolsch contribute segments). It’s fun to discover a bunch of new blossoming talents here.

– Daniel Kurland 

Jack Frost (1997)

This ain’t the cringeworthy father/son bonding vehicle starring Michael Keaton. No, this is the Jack Frost where the killer snowman’s nose functions as both a killing tool and a device to sexually assault his victims. All square? But hey, at the least the film isn’t afraid to ride its ridiculous premise as hard as possible.

First of all, an actual killer named Jack Frost crashes into a truck of “genetics material” that causes him to transform into this cold abomination in the first place. That sets the tone pretty nicely for the abundant murders, sex, and plot holes that plague the town of Snowmonton (yup). It’s hard to believe that this film got made, with all of the visuals being some real spectacles that you don’t typically see in the horror genre.

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Jack Frost is the perfect Christmas horror film to shut your brain off and watch, or the title that you should be selecting right in the middle of your deep eggnog haze. It’s utter nonsense, but it knows that it is and has tons of fun with itself. We need more talented individuals trying to tap into the killer snowman subgenre. There’s still a true classic waiting to come to life here.

– Daniel Kurland 

Krampus (2015)

Morbidly funny in its anti-holiday sarcasm and ridiculous demons, Krampus is like a mashup of the Griswolds, the Grinch, and every mythical beast that has ever been rumored to devour children on the naughty list. You’d rather get coal in your stocking than a killer jack-in-the-box jump scare… or find chilling hoof prints in the snow that are definitely not from Rudolph.

Krampus is one Yuletide monster actually worse than the Grinch. The grisly inspiration for this tale is a Germanic one about a hairy, horned, and cloven-hooved demon who stuffs naughty children in his sack and either beats them with a wooden switch or eats them (depending on who you ask). Also, his heart won’t grow three sizes from gorging on human flesh, either.

This version of Krampus is also hungry for anyone who’s lost their holiday spirit—whether or not you otherwise qualify for the nice list. Watch this with the lights off for the full effect of the power outage that works to the creature’s advantage as he goes hunting for holiday nonbelievers. Kids, don’t scorn Santa or Krampus will come to collect you.

– Elizabeth Rayne 

The Nightmare Before Christmas (1993)

There are some of us who know this movie verbatim and to the point where we will shamelessly break out singing “This is Halloween” and raise Jack’s quasi-Shakespearean monologue from the dead even in the middle of July. Or keep warning people that tragedy’s at hand. Or correct anyone who says there are 365 days until next Halloween by growling “364!” The stop-motion animation saga of the talking skeleton turned “Sandy Claws” bewitched an entire generation of ‘90s kids. 

Even people who hate Halloween will stare with delight and awe when Jack’s skull bursts out of a snowdrift, and he first puts colored lights in his eye sockets and explores every “what’s this?” in Christmas Town like a spook in a coffin shop. You just can’t help but love the adventurous skeleton, even if he does end up making haunted houses out of people’s living rooms on Christmas Eve. Whether you’d rather be making Christmas with strangely somber carols, reanimated reindeer or toys that bite back, it’s now an officially unofficial holiday classic.

– Elizabeth Rayne 

P2 (2007)

On the sillier end of the Christmas horror spectrum comes P2, a film named after a section in a parking lot, starring Wes Bentley and Rachel Nichols. She’s a business woman trapped in a multi-story parking garage on Christmas Eve, he’s the insane Security Guard who’s obsessed with her and really wants her to try his festive eggnog, so to speak. 

Camp and gory, this is the directorial debut of Franck Khalfoun who would follow it up with a remake of Maniac. The movie was co-written by Alexandre Aja who made one of the greatest cat-and-mousers ever in Switchblade Romance. The set up is formulaic, perhaps, but the game performances and relentlessness of the action makes this worthwhile. And if that’s not enough check out a deranged Bentley dressed as Santa, for the angel on the top of the Christmas tree.

– Rosie Fletcher

Rare Exports (2010)

There couldn’t possibly be a more sinister place to search for Santa’s ancient burial mound than in the frigid depths of Lapland. It’s the same supposedly enchanted place Dick van Dyke hiked to in the search for Santa in an ‘80s musical Christmas special, except this time you won’t find him in a cozy cottage with stockings hung by the chimney with care. You won’t find the guy in red from the mall, but anything that takes a disembodied pig’s head as bait couldn’t possibly be jingle-belling on a sleigh with eight tiny reindeer, especially when he seems to have a ravenous appetite for said reindeer. 

This time, “the spirit of the season” is literally the most malicious Christmas spirit that has ever terrorized the Yuletide. Even if you watch the whole thing in Finnish and don’t understand a word except the screaming, the ghost of the child in you that really did believe there was a guy in the North Pole will be forever traumatized. This glaze-eyed zombie incarnation of Mr. Claus doesn’t laugh like a bowl full of jelly. You better watch out, indeed.

– Elizabeth Rayne

Santa Claws (1996)

You do have to wonder what happened to John Russo along the line. 30 years after co-writing Night of the Living Dead, he came up with this decidedly sleazy but sadly unoriginal wonderment, which was much more focused on boobs than Yuletide butchery. In what by that point had become a battered cliché of the Slasher Santa subgenre, a young boy named Wayne (Grant Kramer) sees his mom having sex with a man wearing a Santa hat (!), and so murders them both. I’m not exactly sure how this transference would work in Freudian terms, but when he gets older, he a) becomes obsessed with a low-budget scream queen named Raven (played by low-budget scream queen Debbie Rochon) and b) decides he’s Santa.

As you might imagine, stalking someone when you’re wearing a Santa suit is no mean feat, but Wayne gives it his best shot. Most of the film, however, focuses on Raven and her extended family as she gets undressed a lot and wonders not only why that creep in the Santa suit keeps showing up everywhere, but why everyone around her keeps dying in a particularly bloody fashion. It can feel like there are two films going on here, a by-the-numbers stalker/slasher movie and a holiday horror film, which leaves me thinking Russo had one of them in mind, but after some eight-year-old smarty-pants came up with that clever “Santa Claws” pun, well, he just had to run with it.

– Jim Knipfel

Santa’s Slay (2005)

Christmas can sure scare the Dickens out of people. Hence why you can’t not watch a holiday horror flick in which Santa is the Antichrist, sentenced to 1,000 years of delivering gifts after losing a curling match with an angel, and played by former pro wrestler Bill “Who’s Next?” Goldberg.

As the only son of Satan (you know what they say about rearranging the letters in that name) whose grim legend is immortalized in the Book of Claus, he can now at last spread Christmas fear with weapons, karate kicks, hand grenades, exploding presents, and his own perverse idea of what “Ho ho ho” should really mean. Them’s the breaks once the bet’s terms are done.

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Santa’s methods of murder are fiendishly festive—to say the least. There is no naughty or nice list when it comes to an insatiable appetite for violence. He even knocks out poseurs in red suits and drives a sleigh with a rocket engine like it’s the Batmobile. Mall Santas everywhere are shaking in their pleather boots.

– Elizabeth Rayne 

Silent Night, Deadly Night (1984)

Naughty children get punished with more than just a stocking full of coal in this Christmas chiller. Just the opening scene with all those empty-eyed animatronic toys haunting a window display after-hours should tell you that this is not a movie that’s going to end in visions of sugarplums. Forget that it’s supposed to be the season of all things magical. Those things can be more terrifying than every single plastic skeleton and gaping zombie mask you’ll ever see in a haunted house around Halloween.

You’d better watch out for that psycho in the red suit who grabs a hatchet off the wall as if it was his bag full of toys and packs an automatic pistol in his fur-lined pocket, murdering misbehaving kids he’s been watching undercover of shadow. This sadistic Santa clearly doesn’t believe in sliding down chimneys—and the only red he’s interested in wearing is the blood of innocents. If that won’t convince you to stay awake because he sees you when you’re sleeping, you must be Freddie Krueger.

– Elizabeth Rayne

Silent Night, Deadly Night Part 2 (1987)

Three years after the shit-storm sparked by the original’s ad campaign, some smart cookie decided a sequel was necessary. A tough call there, given most all the principals were killed off pretty thoroughly the first time around, but still, right?

But there was money to be made, so they brought in an untested director (Lee Harry), a mostly untested crew, and a cast of mostly non-professional actors. After a half-dozen writers took a swipe at the script, they came up with a confounding but tepid rehash of the first film. This time around, and mostly in flashback, we learn that after the first killer Santa was sloppily dispatched at the end of Part 1, his brother Ricky becomes determined to uncover what went wrong.

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He pays a visit to the sadistic Mother Superior at the Catholic asylum where his brother had been kept, and before you can say “ho ho ho,” Ricky ends up donning the red and white suit himself to do a little rampaging, though without nearly half of his brother’s imagination. They even used the same fucking poster design, just slapped a “2” on it. I guess hoping they might raise the same sort of ruckus the first one had. Sadly, it was too late for that.

– Jim Knipfel 

Sint (2010)

Dutch director Dick Maas took some early steps toward Krampus territory with his re-imagining of the legend of the warm-hearted Saint Nick. Borrowing heavily from earlier Italian, Spanish, and American horror films, as well as Danish folklore, “Sinterklaas” here was actually a bloodthirsty medieval murderer and all around brute who oversaw a savage reign of terror. Finally fed up with all his nonsense, the ornery local villagers banded together on the night of Dec. 5 and lynched him. As per tradition, however, in the moments before he died Sinterklaas vowed vengeance from beyond the grave, promising to return every 32 years on that very night to do bad and icky things to the villagers’ descendants.

Over the centuries, the story was mainstreamed and soft-pedaled, becoming part of the local folklore. The character of Saint Nick became much more benevolent and child-friendly so as not to scare the wee folk. Then, well, wouldn’t you know it? That anniversary creeps around again, Sinterklaas is true to his word, and Amsterdam turns all bloody, leaving it up to an intrepid teenager named Frank to put a stop to the mayhem.

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A stylish, wicked, and hugely entertaining take on the darker history of a beloved legend. It was also the top grossing film in Denmark in 2010, which either says something about the Danish film industry or the Dutch themselves.

– Jim Knipfel

Tales From the Crypt: And All Through the House (1972)

The Crypt Keeper first emerged as a ghoulish EC Comics horror host in the pages of Tales From the Crypt who crawled onto the big screen in this horror anthology, welcoming unknowing tourists to his catacombs with bony arms open. What the tourists don’t know is that they’re all recently deceased. The invite is to a subterranean story-time in which he unearths the gruesome details of their deaths with a gap-toothed grin. Creatures are obviously stirring when killer wife Joanne is stalked by a homicidal Santa in this warped homage to ‘Twas the Night Before Christmas titled (appropriately enough) “… And All Through the House.”

So it is that “O Come All Ye Faithful” is interrupted while playing on the radio by a scratchy warning of a homicidal maniac run amok. And wouldn’t you just know it, this occurs right as Joan Collins is offing her husband with a shot to the head—and then realizes she has to dismember the body before cashing in on his life insurance. Her blissfully naïve daughter lets the killer jolly old elf in, shrieking that Santa finally came before he erupts into psychopathic rage. Clement C. Moore must be turning in his grave.

– Elizabeth Rayne 

The Wolf of Snow Hollow

Certainly less purely Christmas-y than other entries on this list, The Wolf of Snow Hollow is nonetheless a wintry delight set during the holiday season. Carols play ominously in the background during key moments, and the immaculately snowy white setting of Snow Hollow, Utah is broken only by splashes of color from lights on homes and Christmas trees. Oh yes, and the blood of the titular werewolf’s victims.

Read more

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Jim Cummings’ film is heavy on cozy, ski town holiday atmosphere without leaning on its actual Christmastime setting at all. But good werewolf movies are a rare breed indeed these days, and a werewolf movie set at Christmas? Well…now you know what to watch when the moon is full each December

Mike Cecchini

Got any other suggestions for Christmas horror movies that we missed? Let us know in the comments!

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[surfersofbole]

Going to Fall: What will you do?

This is the fifth installment in my “Going to Fall” series, which is based on Bob Dylan’s “A Hard Rain’s a-Gonna Fall.”

What will you do?

Here, your father must now mention if God has seemed unjust, unkind, then, have you paid him no attention? Our sins are many, of great kinds; punishment ‘s held with retention

not unlike the water vapor within the clouds above the world. All the clouds won’t harm a scraper, but rain upon a cardboard home turns the walls into soaked paper.

I can sense your apprehension, and I can sense your broken pride. Do you have some great dissension? Well, now, just take your small asides to relieve any contention.

Some of us find things enlightening when we must live in heavy dark. Lightning rods control the frightening and brightening flash of the short night. Umbrellas keep th’ tensions tightening.

You would think there’d be prevention - that God himself would take the lead. God wants no Earthly dimension and so he goes ahead, concedes rain must fall without suspension.

What will you do, my blue-eyed son? Somethings are hard to answer. Some… What will you do, darling young one? Think you that I should know this thing? Morning comes now with the bright sun.

Going back out before the rain starts falling

I wake up scared as hell that things are going wrong. Why? I was not quite sure of what was going on. My mind was in a cell. I lie down quietly. The motionless allure of a ceiling, empty...

A day begins anew. Will I ever arise? A thunder I have heard; the skies will be disguised. The rainclouds now accrue. I’m scared to leave this place; though, maybe I’m absurd, and I should go/make haste.

I’ll walk the beaten path; I know it will be short. All the small excursions other souls couldn’t afford... I'll face the wanton wrath because the world will fear I am leading an incursion with my mouth that all’ll hear.

The depths of the deepest, black forest

Electrified air climbs to clustered cotton fluff; screams turn to grumbles.

Some schwarzwald sunshine prawns prowl blister-black water - ice of a night sky.

Sharp whistles whittle brittle branch and bark, bitter for the burning blight.

Hollow trees topple. Then, forests from dying flames born of detritus.

The people are many, their hands are all empty

Xerotic mouths agape, facade of night entreats a dreamer thirsting not the light, "neglect a cleanly state and state that you ordain the rain to fall as it is due."

Disguising no intentions with delight, obsessed with obfuscating appetite, come cumulating nimbus clouds above haranguing with each lightning strike thereof.

In time, hard rains again will lift the plight and everyone will be an acolyte lest all the clouds they see move out of sight.

The pellets of poison flooding their waters

(The vending machine hums softly. A whirring and some clinking kick off a habit, and I press a button. A quarter? I try again. In the mechanism, it moves. Thunk. Mother's approval.)

Someone's swimming in the pool.

Crystalline medium with waving surface dances the light upon the ceiling.

Diving at the deep, he sinks into the bottom for the longest moment until he is diluted by the dark.

I sit beside the edge, staring.

No manacles bind us to the station we submit.

Someone's swimming in the pool, but I've a job to do. "Refill the canister with two chlorine tablets. Lock up and leave."

The home in the valley meets the damp, dirty prison

I walk to where the sidewalk ends en masse, past the concrete's blend with grass and the footstep-muddled pastures.

I found the last spot God had cried: an oasis that has dried in the desert of this life.

The rain is not the coldest where the trees have met the forest and the mountain meets the valley.

The executioner’s face, always well hidden

At mass, the priest, in his white, polyester robes, stood among pink roses.

"I say, precious Lord, look upon us and see not injustice; instead, find hope."

Among the heightened exaltations of the chorus, water came down upon us.

Back when crimes against the Lord and his people were punishable, men like Christ and Beckett, with their deaths, made leaders grovel.

King, bearing a new weight, shouldered a poor people's campaign; in his memory, we hid this struggle. In this new poor people's campaign, shall hidden faces make another man infamous?

"Do this in memory of me."

The word of the Lord makes requisite that we do things in memory of others that perhaps, through us, they could live on. Such a cause as theirs is worth perpetuating; such a love as theirs is the great communion.

"Mass has ended. You may go in peace"

Hunger is ugly, souls are forgotten

Oysters - pried apart with pearls squeezed from their soft flesh - are discarded shells that cleansed murky waterways. Layered nacre anchors banks.

Black is the color, none is the number

For the briefest second, worlds are colorful and palm fronds, like percussion sections, fill the wind with scratching sound. As raindrops themselves drive through darkness into broken asphalt, thunder-crash!                        The crack in night, it vanished while a youth in leather shoes and wetting socks went running to a covered walkway. Hole-filled pockets bore some grimed receipts, old notes, worn cards, and damaged pictures in a wallet that was drawn up. She inserted plastic; as the m'chine slow- processed four fast digits, vehicles blurred past and disappear until, at last, a menu let her check the balance. Black in text, a zero showed up. Buzzing lights then flickered; rain felt bitter/harder.

Tell it, think it, speak it, breathe it

False flags on steel poles; you find their real goals cause hard heads to feel soles as reeled votes steal polls. Loss is a hand that's doled to thoughtless card holders; well oiled, pristine political machines need propaganda's grist cleaned and shoveled on the screens. Greed - democracy's splotch - fills you with the scotch blues; when the night is botched, sit back up to watch news. Feel cold and say burr under a cedar tree, or passover seder with Sam Seder, see his angered, sabered tongue work hard/labor long; hundreds of lungfuls from racist uncles tapered off. Like flaming fungal masses on crumpled paper, scoffed arguments hindered turn to cinder; try not to join the splintered dense blocks of tinder, dry rot. "Freedom isn't free, son..." some person breathes on as a prison's breeze comes; truth in neon: "Freedom isn't free, and it isn't freedom." Jaime Peck 'n' Michael Brooks wait with bridled facts on homicidal cops and Congress' idled acts. The left's best anchors, hosts of the Majority Report, unveil the languor of neofascist authority.

Reflect from the mountain so all souls can see it

Guinness in my system at a Regal cinema; someone said, "I miss him." Liquor mixed with cinnamon makes my throat feel dry; is that why I'm stifled? "On everyone's behalf, when we heard you laughing at Dave Rubin's gaffes, all our sides were halfing." Why am I nervous before the final curtain? "He did the world a service, that I say with certainty." "I want to drink, alright, rather than think all night; pour shots until bar fight hour is a starlight tour." Drink my Tennessee whiskey and Hennessy briskly in backgrounds of dim-lit rooms. As this dim-wit reflects, chances look slim; the future's a grim skit. Pillow to my head and sink in like lead, a stone carelessly embedded in the river bed alone.

Stand on the ocean until I start sinking

When one recollects that the keystone oft sank in the sand before standing aloft among clouds on a mountain so solid of faith and devotion, it's then that a false step compels men, "Recover!" I noticed thrombosis had felled the calm warrior, that saint among saints that is Archangel Michael; the champion of men and proponent of justice inspires l'avant-garde to claim in it's crawling a victory not pyrrhic but won with empiric- al knowledge against an- tithetical sirens that draw men towards hatred with bigotry, envy, and greed. So, surrender your voice, but renounce not your thoughts, and remember the message borne by a colossus that called out to Lazarus, "Come forth."

Know my song well before I start singing

Cantos coming soon to a year near you!

Notes

This is the order in which the poems were written: 2, 1, 4, 3, 6, 5, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12. I plan for poem 13 to be a series of cantos based on my time walking through a park in my home town.

What will you do?

This poem was written months ago while I was still a Tumblr poet and is the introduction to the final section of the Going to Fall collection of poems I've written. The next poem will be posted when I figure out where I saved it.

The depths of the deepest, black forest

I thought I had a poem for this portion of the final section of my "Going to Fall" poetry collection, but I couldn't find it. Luckily, the haiku challenge issued for November prompted me to write this in place of the imagined poem.

The people are many, their hands are all empty

There were two prompts for this poem. The first is an obscure words poetry contest that I volunteered myself, in which I received the prompt "Xenodochial" (which means hospitable or kind to strangers). The second was from a challenge I made [for] myself [...] I had been stuck on this particular portion for months now, so I'm glad to have something appropriate and fitting.

The pellets of poison flooding their waters

Perhaps I put too much thought into a story about a guy closing up after a hallucination. The stuff in the parenthesis was typed last, but I only put it in because I could find no better way to add that the narrator is thirsty. I was going to write a twelve poem collection on this prompt, based on monthly news stories of people making the world a worse place, but the poems were scrapped. I do hope to revisit the idea under a different title.Perhaps I put too much thought into a story about a guy closing up after a hallucination. The stuff in the parenthesis was typed last, but I only put it in because I could find no better way to add that the narrator is thirsty. I was going to write a twelve poem collection on this prompt, based on monthly news stories of people making the world a worse place, but the poems were scrapped. I do hope to revisit the idea under a different title.

The home in the in the valley meets the damp dirty prison

I had the first two lines stuck in my head for a couple of days. This is the result.

Hunger is ugly, souls are forgotten

This is just a poem comparing oysters and people.

Black is the color, none is the number

October 11, 2020 corrections: *line 4 - "And" -> "As" *line 7 - "." -> "," *line 8 - "Thunder-crash!" -> "thunder-crash!" and line split. *lines 13-16 - "Hole-filled pockets - dirty, wet - hold paper/plastic cards and damaged pictures in a wallet. It is" replaced with current version. *lines 18-21 - "plastic; as the machine processed four fast digits, vehicles dove on past and then they disappeared. At" replaced with current version.

Three Poems for the Great Progressive

This poem came together from the following stanza that I spit out a couple of nights ago: Passover seder with Sam Seder under my cedar tree. Say burr, see his sabered tongue labor long. Hundred lungful's hinder cindered minds. The tinder finds a racist uncle's baseless tongueful like dry rot: the fungal waste is erased from space. Try not It includes one line I wrote a few years ago: "I drink my Tennessee whiskey and Hennessy briskly." The poem is basically about listening to the news all the time because you're sick, feeling restless, going out to the movies and bars, and finally going to sleep. July 20, 2020 update: Completed in honor of Michael Brooks. Also, I wrote the following poem soon after I heard the news, but did not put the time into it that I would have liked. The ground is dry and leaves grow thin. When the new moon is out the fuses trip, the grid's offline, and the world stands too still, I look to the sky as the gold flecks fly; ember is ash. A chill climbs up my spine; stomach can't dip lower. I cannot scout a star within the restless sky. August 11, 2020 update: I saw a contest early morning and wrote the first stanza of the third poem. The second stanza was written after I returned from work. The prompt was the first line from the Beatles' "A Day in the Life".

NOTE: This is the title for “Tell it, think it, speak it, breathe it,” “Reflect from the mountain so all souls can see it,” and “Stand on the ocean until I start sinking.”

[maryisis]

Creativity, Conformity & the Courage to Change.

We come into this world full of wonder, taking in Life in all its newness and mystery, each day building upon the next,our perception of the world. As children our imaginations can create so many magical experiences~ I have memories of playing by the seashore where I grew up, absolutely enraptured with nature and my own unique relationship with it. I felt like I was a magical wizard working with the power of the ocean waves, opening portals to other dimensions. Yes, I was a magical child, and thankfully I still am a magical child, as I received support and freedom to express myself in my formative years. I have come into my adulthood, accepting that my natural gifts to offer are my music and voice (I have been musical and singing since before I could talk) and I know that this would likely not be the case if I had been brought up in a family that told me to “hush” when expressing my sometimes loud exuberance. I know this is sadly not the case for so many other children, for various reasons. Parents often reward their children for “good behavior” which is often the suppression of their childhood essense and energy. If you made it through your childhood retaining your authentic self then your culture and society will surely work to conform and condition you. Whether it be what we are taught in schools, to what we are fed through the media- we begin to form psychological constructs of what is acceptable and what is not. And because all beings want to be and feel accepted, we end up conforming in many ways. Through our cultural conditioning we form a view of the world and how it came to be and accept what we are taught in school as true- when the reality is that what we are taught by these establishments is what they want us to know, not necessarily what is true. When we reach our adult years, we might find ourselves in places, situations, jobs, or relationships that are actually not at all in alignment with our deep core values, which can create immense inner conflict. Sometimes it takes effort to get really clear with what our true core values are- because what we are conditioned by society to believe, might not be in congruence with our soul’s wisdom. Through the power of our courageous love and willpower we might take an honest look at our lives to examine all that we have learned or have been taught and all the precious parts of ourselves we might have overlooked or abandoned. Then we might seek to reclaim our birthright to BE who we TRULY ARE- and to peel off the layers of conditioning to REMEMBER that creative child within. Affirm “I am a Sacred Divine Soul with a Purpose. I desire to know and live this purpose for the Greater Good of All.”

Within each and every one of us is a tender, pure, and innocent child that has love, joy, and a special gift to offer the world.  Think of a seed, that contains the blueprint for the plant that it will become. Perhaps it will become an oak tree, or perhaps it will become a sunflower. There are so many plants of so many different shapes, colors and qualities. Think of a sprout just bursting forth to the world from the earth, with so much potential, it is truly miraculous! We all have this same life force within us, driving us to grow, to realize our innate potential. 

Creativity is a unique quality of being Human. Our creative abilities are what have made possible all the technology that you use and see around you, all the Art and music in the world. When people hear the word “creativity” they probably think of these things.  There are many other ways we express our CREATIVE POWERS. What comes to your mind when you think of creativity? Because we are creative beings, we have the power to create our own reality just based on our perceptions and how we interact with the world.  The common phrase that has its roots in religious scripture: “Man is made in the image of God,” is interpreted by many in a spiritual context to mean just this. We create with our thoughts, feelings, words, and actions. The more we consciously choose our feelings, thoughts and actions the more we can consciously create our reality. For some, this seems like a very foreign concept: “Choose our feelings- what are you talking about? I FEEL what I feel, how would I choose that?” Emotions are very interesting and are intricately connected with our neural pathways and patterning. The more you react in a certain way will determine how you react in the future. So if you find yourself reacting emotionally in a way that is causing you to suffer, you might be a victim of your own patterning and its time you take your power back. If you want to understand this subject more then I recommend looking into “Neural plasticity” and maybe listening to or watching a lecture/presentation by Dr. Joe Dispenza. This is just one way we can use our power to CREATE. And you will NOT learn this kind of stuff in your elementary, intermediate or high school, unfortunately. You might learn these kinds of things much later in life when you are feeling so fucked up inside that you seek out of desperation for ways to CHANGE your life. But just imagine how different our society would be like if things like this WERE taught in schools to children- that they are powerful and can create their own reality!

CHANGE is something that humans have a challenging time with because we are creatures of habit and we tend to cling to our comfort zones and what is familiar and SAFE. Change can bring fear and feeling uncomfortable. Yet, if we don’t change we would stay stuck in old ways or places that no longer serve our state of being. Not changing can bring suffering. Just look at life itself as an example- Life is constantly growing, changing, and transforming with time. If a sprout is left in a small container, if it is not transplanted when it out grows the container it will become stunted and likely face a pre-mature death. Change comes in many forms and perhaps the most elusive and hard to face is the change that happens inside of you. Our human ego rallies against change in so many ways. Because we are naturally growing along in the cycle of life, we are naturally changing- but when changing means doing something differently, or giving up old habits we do all sort of things to avoid these changes. We can avoid to the point of feeling deep inner conflict, frustration or anxiety and then we might even attempt to mask these feelings with substances (alcohol,drugs,food) or other behaviors (shopping, projecting emotions onto someone else). Another word for change is transformation. There is no “how to” guide for your unique path of healing and transformation. We are each on our unique journeys and doing our unique alchemical work to refine and transform ourselves. It is our humility, our desire and our willingness to do the work that is required. When we take actions that will cause change, new opportunities are presented to us, new doors open, and new ways of thinking may come. So imagine if we consciously made the effort to EMBRACE change rather than resist it. Imagine the rapid transformation that could come. I automatically think of our society and humanity at large- what if our governments of the world stopped resisting the changes that are needed and made the actions to change outdated policies and install new ones that better serve the whole? Its our conformity in our society that actually continues serving these outdated ways- So is it not our responsibility as conscious co-creators to break free from the conformity make change happen? Yes, its true that the governments are corrupted and have gotten to a place of serving themselves rather than society as was their original purpose, but is this not also a reflection of ourselves? 

I didn’t know what I was going to write when I started writing this but it ended up being about these three words: CREATIVITY, CONFORMITY AND CHANGE- and how these three things are very much connected. I felt prompted to write because I am feeling the pushes of life’s changes and I am in acknowledgment that I too was resisting my own transformation, and have been feeling the frustration and inner conflict. Its also given me the opportunity to look deeper at where my own conditioning and perceptions work against me. And so, the process of change can often include very painful and honest introspection and sometimes even a symbolic death of self to reveal the True Self to resurrect. The natural ways that  I personally face change (especially inner change) is through my creativity- specifically, music, writing and painting. Many of my songs come through me in times of immense turmoil and transformation and they help to usher me into a new level of being, such as my song “Path of Transformation.” And sometimes my songs are reminders for me, as I can fall into a spell of forgetfulness. As a dear friend of mine sings in her song, entitled “Human Kind”:  “Oh, Awakening is so much sweeter, after we forget, you know...” 

 I am so grateful to know that my songs also help others in their transformative process. That is how I know it is my the gift to offer to the world. Sharing my truth and healing process in return can help others on their journey too. For that I am humbled and grateful.  I encourage You, precious being, to tap into Your own innate instrument(s) of healing You have within. (And feel free to comment and share with me too!) The Choice to embrace Change and Co-create your reality is truly Yours. Blessings on your Journey of Self discovery and creative expression!

Mary Isis

Visionary art by Mark Henson- I am so inspired by his amazing creations!

[sambashua]

11 questions tag~

i was tagged by @achuu-nice @s-lay-ing and @maetaamong for the 11 questions game where you answer 11 q’s then write 11 new q’s! a good time! (y’all this is 33 questions bear w me)

nom’s q’s

how are you? :D I’M GREATTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT i hope you are too:D

sad ballads or happy upbeat songs? okay so like.. both so much.. but if i rlly had to choose i’d go for ballads bc i’m rlly a soft binch at heart (but red flavor will never not get me lit)

fave anime movie? maybe ponyo? or howl’s moving castle? i also really liked the girl who lept through time! (all credited to wonhankwan movie squad)

dogs or cats? bOTH i refuse to choose (but i got dos gatos)

do you keep stuffed animals in your room? no:( i have some on a shelf at my dad’s house tho? and i have mr. troll in my apt living room!

someone you miss? @atshinee :(

describe your phone case? iT’S GOT MOOMIN EATIN SOME CARROTS OR EGGS IT’S UP FOR DEBATE

favorite lore/myths? i’ve always been a percy jackson ho but i always thought persephone and that story was cool?? also the labyrinth 

eardbuds or headphones? earbuds bc headphones are real expensive

can I steal your heart? i actually don’t have one to steal bc you already took it nom:’(

favorite thing about your ult bias? uMMMMMMM prObABLy his smile♡ (i say smth different everytime but i feel like i neglect his visuals oops)

cloud’s q’s

Do you know a ksong by heart? (bc I don’t :x I can hum a trillion tho) haaaaaaa well i mean i can’t speak korean ofc but i can p much believably sing all of seventeen’s title tracks.. and i generally sing along to every song ever even if i don’t know it??? oH I LEARNED ALL THE WORDS TO IF IT IS YOU BY JUNG SEUNG HWAN BC I LOVE IT exhibit a b and  c for why!

When it comes to friendships, are you low or high maintenance? (As in your friends gotta talk everyday with you or you’ll feel like the friendship is dying OR if you can spend days without talking to them yet you still remain close) i like to think i’m a pretty low maintenance person! i’m easy-going by nature and i don’t mind silence at all and don’t even find it awkward usually. i have friends i don’t talk to for months on end and then we get together maybe once a year and we still remain close:) i like to think i’m easy to talk to so that could be part of it?

Do you have a secret that you will take to the grave? (Ofc I’m not asking you to reveal it)  ajhfdksl tbh i don’t think so??? i’m kind of a private person.. but if someone asked me smth specific i wouldn’t not tell them ? idk tho i used to be a bit of a pathological liar so~~~

Recommend me 5 songs (not necessarily kpop songs) i’ll rec some non kpop since i’m sure you would know anything i recced ajkdhfjdk

honey - kehlani

to build a home - the cinematic orchestra (aka chanhee’s all time favorite song which makes me really emo)

broken clocks - sza

waves - young the giant

window seat - thomston, wafia

bonus! flirt right back - backbear :)

What do you prefer?: first, second or third gen kpop songs? third gen! since that’s when i joined i’m really into it at this point! also i think the variety of music is sooo much wider than it used to be? i’m not super in tune w all the older groups but i think it’s insaneeee how many groups there are rn snd they all have a lot to offer!

What’s the cheeeeeeeeeesiest thing you’ve done? (one time a former friend of mine was telling me about a problem she had and at the end of our convo I kissed her in the forehead bYE) um legit cloud i am cheesy 25/8 catch me being a soft snuggly bean popping trash puns left and right every day of the week

If you were asked to participate in a variety show, which one of the following would you pick and why? (Pick two!): problematic men, master key, hello counselor, weekly idol, one fine day, law of the jungle i think i’d go on weekly idol! i would wanna go toe to toe w doni and coni bc they’re always so harsh to lil baby idols ahhaha i wanna take them on!

Your top 10 kpop songs of 2017? binchhhh i’ll just go by my top nine according to spotify and my number one for apple music:)

When You Love Someone - Day6

Heartbreaker - NCT 127

My First and Last - NCT DREAM (also dunk shot tho byeeee)

Baby Don’t Like It - NCT 127 (tbh don’t remember listening to it this much what)

BABE - Hyuna

Like This - Pentagon

A Supplementary Story: You Never Walk Alone - BTS

Rollin’ - Brave Girls !!!!!!!!!!!!!

Eclipse - LOONA (Kim Lip)

Wake Me Up - B.A.P

bonus! Coloring Book - Oh My Girl :)

Would you rather live in a huge mansion or a compact studio house? definitely a studio house! for sooo many reasons: 1) i hate walking 2) cleaning a large house is the worst 3) if i had the option to spend that much i’d just get a smaller house and spend money on more important things!

Tell me a fun childhood story (I’ll start! One time an aunt gave me money to buy ‘papas’ (potatoes) at the grocery store so bc I’m obedient af I went and asked the counter lady how many of em could I buy with the money I had so she went ‘uhh, not many tbh’ so i ended up getting like two and when I returned to my aunt’s house she laughed her ass off and said: I meant ‘papas fritas’ (potato chips) Not those! - and uh yeah this is funnier in Spanish but it proves that I’m such an innocent angel I mean wow) gIRL I WISH I COULDA SEEN THAT SPANISH EXCHANGE I DEFINITELY LAUGHED um????????? yo idk i can’t think of anything help uhhhh okay so when my sister and i were little our house was two stories so we’d take our stuffed animals and tie plastic bags to them and make them skydive ahahha but it wasn’t too satisfying for obvious reasons so we just attached this one stretchy pink scarf to them and make them bungee jump from the railing ajfdhgfdls classic

If you were offered to start a band, would you accept? yEAH if someone offered i would assume i had the talent and ability so.. yes.. even if i didn’t and someone offered i’d still say yes bye

kiki’s q’s

Link your favourite playlist here if you can and if you can’t write out the first 10 songs on it! (Not a question but shh) here she isssss okay wait so she’s not my go to playlist tbh but she has a mix of western and kpop so.. enjoy!

Is your current ult bias your first ult bias? If not who was your first? yes :) my first ever bias was joon but i didn’t even know what an ult was for a long time and by the time i found out i knew all along wonu was my boy

Who is your ult bias? jeon wonwoo ofc

Who is more likely to hog the aux cord, you or your ult? um me.. i’m kinda a hoe w music like i always play it.. when i drive my friends i am in charge of music bc duh it’s my car but then when they drive me they usually ask if i wanna play music ahahhaha MAYEB THEY’RE JSUT SAYING I HAVE GOOD TASTE THO???? 

Who is more likely to forget an important date, you or your ult? def wonwoo.. that boy couldn’t remember his own birthday if he didn’t pay attention.. for some reason i have a steel trao mind for dates?

Who is more likely to ask the other to pick them up after work, you or your ult? i like driving so i’d say maybe wonwoo? but i feel like he might be the type to want to offer to drive you.. who am i kidding that boy is always tired

Who is more likely to write the other a hand written note expressing themselves rather than just saying it, you or your ult? i think wonwoo.. i get the vibe that we’re both a bit emotionally inept and we would both have trouble expressing ourselves but he might find comfort w writing things down he’s a romantic binch he reads too much not to be

Who is more likely to cry when a dog dies in a movie, you or your ult? me bc dat ho doesn’t like dogs smh.. his only fault (jk he a mess)

Who is more likely to almost burn the house down while cooking, you or your ult? wonu? just bc i’m not that clumsy? he could do it tho

Who is more likely to start a pillow fight, you or your ult? neither of us we’re too tired

Who is more likely to ask the other to come over to cuddle with them so that they can fall asleep better, you or your ult? meeeeee i’m a cuddly bitch and he isn’t rip.. but he would do it for me he better

my questions:D

If you could travel anywhere, but were completely by yourself, where would you go?

What inspires you?

How many pets would you have in your ideal future? Any specific names or types in mind?

What are you opinions on fedoras

how many spoons can you balance on your face at once (picture or video proof preferred (i’m trying to get someone to do it pls anyone))

What is your favorite type of tree?

If you could convince one person to like kpop who would you convert?

What are three things you are normally associated with and/or what are three things you want to be associated with?

If you were in a kpop group what position would you hold (ie. leader, main vocal, moodmaker, etc) feel free to tag your mutuals and who they would be!

If you could have any wild animal as a tame pet what would it be?? (i’m ocelot loyal all the way)

What is your opinion on mint chocolate chip ice cream? (for maj)

i’m going to tag @yongpal-i !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (are you happy sister) @strawberryboo @everyonesabiaswrecker @kiheehyunie @indiepoptime @jungnoir @hwallsgrl @lipstick-chathao @yongceo @undinefin @kihqun @definitelythis @g-te @justsomekpopstuff (tagged you back:D) and @jeonwoooo if you guys want to try it out!!

[darkvalkyria]

Yusei

favorite thing about them

smart. smarty smart smart. that’s obviously not all to be considered when appreciating a person, but yusei’s intelligence is inspiring to me. i love it. the fact that we got to see yusei in a lab setting at the end of the series made me ridiculously pleased.

also, i really like that they made him older than the other protagonists. i like his maturity and thought it was good for 5ds’ story. love his darker skin as well.

least favorite thing about them

uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh… oH! 

that one time he said to paradox that issues like racism, oppression, and environmental degradation would “fix themselves on their own with time.” i know i shouldn’t expect yugioh to address those issues but come on, that line just pissed me off.

favorite line

anytime yusei says “mirai”

brOTP

name a more iconic trio than yusei jack and crow. 

i’ll wait.

also i really want yugo to meet yusei?? so bad. sooooooooo bad. yuma and yusei would also have fun together i think. yusei can also adopt yusaku please and thank you.

OTP

again, i don’t really ship much, but him and aki are one of my favorite yugioh pairings and the only main boy-main girl i thoroughly enjoyed watching throughout the series.

nOTP

can’t think of any

random headcanon

yusei in college. 

also that one drawing an animator did of yusei waking up hungover with a bra on his head.

not a yusei headcanon particularly, but i like thinking yusei’s dad worked for kaibacorp as one of their head researchers and as one of the few people that kaiba respects. maybe he even went to school with yugi and co like ushio.

unpopular opinion

it’s been 52 years and i still don’t quite understand how him defeating jack translated to staying in domino city for the rest of his life. also what the hell happened to his friends from satellite, and also how did you create a new energy source one year after the z-one incident.

song i associate with them

“yusei fudo” is the best, sexiest yugioh character theme ever and could not be more reflective of his personality and life. go listen to it all of you, you will not be disappointed.

“future colors” by plastic tree is a gorgeous song

favorite picture of them

what the actual fuck

[bethestaryouareradio]

'Tis the Season

“Down came the rain and washed the spider out!” Toddler song

Halleluiah! It is raining…and raining, and raining. It was indeed a blessed Thanksgiving weekend as the heavens finally opened and life-giving tears spilled from the sky. Our grounds have been so parched that even the amended clay soil is as hard as cement. The start of the rainy season means it is time to get garden work completed.

On the first day of rain, I donned my rain gear to fertilize the lawn and re-seed the grass with my homemade “lawn patch”. The recipe is simple: In a wheelbarrow or five-gallon bucket, mix potting soil with lawn seed. Sprinkle the combination in areas where your lawn is bare, making sure that there are at least twenty seeds per handful. Since the patch needs to remain moist to stimulate growth, doing this chore when it is raining is optimum.

On the second day of rain, I realized that this was not a light shower, but the beginning of a deluge. As soon as there was a break in the weather, I cleaned patio furniture, moved lounge pads to storage and wrapped the furniture in plastic to endure the winter under a patio cover. Large containers of Birds of Paradise and palms that are frost tender were transported to protected areas.

After three days of continual downfall, it was time to plant my bulbs and transplant perennials. The bulbs had begun to sprout and as I dug holes, I realized that about five inches down, the earth was still very hard and dry. Rain…we will need so much more.

On day four, I was raking the piles of colorful liquid amber leaves when I felt a sting in my leg. Then another shot of pain whisked through my jacket to my arm, followed by my neck feeling on fire. Before I knew what had transpired, I was attacked by a swarm of yellowjackets. What? Yellowjackets in December? After tending to the painful and swollen sites with ice, a paste of baking soda and water, vinegar, and imbibing antihistamines, I called Vector Control. The rain needed to stop to effectively treat and destroy the nest. What I learned is that yellowjackets are the most aggressive at this time of year because the queen is laying eggs that will become more queens in the spring. Protecting their queen and future queens, the yellowjackets attack ferociously. Be cautious when raking, digging, or pruning.

When day five arrived, I was ready to start my Christmas decorating. I cut branches from my redwood trees, clipped Chinese pistache, cotoneaster, and pyracantha berries, sprayed painted my autumn gourds, and started creating holiday arrangements.

We had a morning of sunshine on day six so I pruned the deadwood from my fence perimeter oleanders. Don’t let the pretty flowers fool you. Although these Mediterranean specimens are easy to grow in almost any climate, every part of the oleander is poisonous to both animals and humans. Wear leather gloves when working with oleanders as the sap can cause severe allergic reactions and clean shears with bleach. Do not add the flowers, leaves, or branches to compost piles. Dispose of them to your trash secured in a plastic bag.

Day seven dawned dark, dreary, cold, and wet. It was time to bring in my weathered wood, make a cup of hot cocoa, light a fire, and read a book. Growing up on the farm without central heat, our only source of warmth in winter was a roaring fire. ‘Tis the season to be jolly and cozy!

The rain continues to wash the spiders out!

Happy Holidays! Happy gardening! Happy Growing!

Cynthia Brian’s Gardening Guide for December SAVOR the final days of fall foliage on your deciduous trees. As the temperatures drop, the colors become more intense, especially on maples, crape myrtles, liquid ambers, and pistache. STOMP mole runs to encourage those burrowers to move on. PRUNE euphorbia to the ground or if it has become invasive, dig out the roots. BE ALERT for yellowjacket nests in the ground. Call Vector Control for eradication. (925) 685-9301 REPURPOSE Thanksgiving gourds by spray-painting them in metallic colors of gold silver, bronze, copper, red, green, or blue. Use in your holiday décor. MAKE your own Christmas wreaths and garlands with boughs from your redwood, cedar, pine, or other conifer trees. Add berries of holly, cotoneaster, Chinese pistache, or pyracantha for a homemade creation. DON’T mow your lawns when it is raining. Wet grass bends over and you’ll end up with uneven cuts. Also, mowing when your lawn is soaked will cause ruts, compaction, and even uproot the grass. SEASON wood for at least a year before burning in fireplaces or wood-burning stoves. Green wood is heavy and smokes, doesn’t provide heat, and can build up large quantities of creosote which can cause a fire in your chimney. Have your fireplace and chimney inspected and swept at least once per year. Enjoy a fire only on safe days, never on spare-the-air notifications. NEVER burn oleander wood. The smoke is toxic and poisonous. Never use oleander as skewers for meat as this practice can be deadly. Place cut oleander branches in a plastic bag and put it in your trash bin. Remember that all parts of the oleander can be fatal to humans and animals. ADD a whimsical statue to your garden to bring a smile to your guests during inclement weather. PLANT bulbs for spring. CLEAN rain gutters. Add the debris to your compost pile. SCATTER poppy and lupine seeds. COME to 5A Rent-A-Space in Moraga on Saturday, December 14th from 11-3 pm with your children for a Visit with Santa. Be the Star You Are!® volunteers will be on hand to help kids write a letter, and take their photo with St. Nick. Crafts and treats included at this FREE event. For more information visit: https://www.bethestaryouare.org/events PICK Meyer lemons to add zest to your celebratory menus. COMBINE containers of Christmas cactus and cyclamen for a pretty holiday display.

Photos and more at https://www.lamorindaweekly.com/archive/issue1321/Digging-Deep-with-Cynthia-Brian-Tis-the-Season.html

  Cynthia Brian, The Goddess Gardener, raised in the vineyards of Napa County, is a New York Times best-selling author, actor, radio personality, speaker, media and writing coach as well as the Founder and Executive Director of Be the Star You Are!® 501 c3. Tune into Cynthia’s StarStyle® Radio Broadcast at www.StarStyleRadio.com. Buy a copy of her books, Growing with the Goddess Gardener and Be the Star You Are! Millennials to Boomers at www.cynthiabrian.com/online-store. Hire Cynthia for writing projects, garden consults, and inspirational lectures. Cynthia@GoddessGardener.com www.GoddessGardener.com

keywords:#Christmas, #holidays, #winter, #December ,#gardening, #cynthiabrian, #starstyle, #goddessGardener, #growingwiththegoddessgardener, #lamorindaweekly

[goddessgardener]

'Tis the Season

“Down came the rain and washed the spider out!” Toddler song

Halleluiah! It is raining…and raining, and raining. It was indeed a blessed Thanksgiving weekend as the heavens finally opened and life-giving tears spilled from the sky. Our grounds have been so parched that even the amended clay soil is as hard as cement. The start of the rainy season means it is time to get garden work completed.

On the first day of rain, I donned my rain gear to fertilize the lawn and re-seed the grass with my homemade “lawn patch”. The recipe is simple: In a wheelbarrow or five-gallon bucket, mix potting soil with lawn seed. Sprinkle the combination in areas where your lawn is bare, making sure that there are at least twenty seeds per handful. Since the patch needs to remain moist to stimulate growth, doing this chore when it is raining is optimum.

On the second day of rain, I realized that this was not a light shower, but the beginning of a deluge. As soon as there was a break in the weather, I cleaned patio furniture, moved lounge pads to storage and wrapped the furniture in plastic to endure the winter under a patio cover. Large containers of Birds of Paradise and palms that are frost tender were transported to protected areas.

After three days of continual downfall, it was time to plant my bulbs and transplant perennials. The bulbs had begun to sprout and as I dug holes, I realized that about five inches down, the earth was still very hard and dry. Rain…we will need so much more.

On day four, I was raking the piles of colorful liquid amber leaves when I felt a sting in my leg. Then another shot of pain whisked through my jacket to my arm, followed by my neck feeling on fire. Before I knew what had transpired, I was attacked by a swarm of yellowjackets. What? Yellowjackets in December? After tending to the painful and swollen sites with ice, a paste of baking soda and water, vinegar, and imbibing antihistamines, I called Vector Control. The rain needed to stop to effectively treat and destroy the nest. What I learned is that yellowjackets are the most aggressive at this time of year because the queen is laying eggs that will become more queens in the spring. Protecting their queen and future queens, the yellowjackets attack ferociously. Be cautious when raking, digging, or pruning.

When day five arrived, I was ready to start my Christmas decorating. I cut branches from my redwood trees, clipped Chinese pistache, cotoneaster, and pyracantha berries, sprayed painted my autumn gourds, and started creating holiday arrangements.

We had a morning of sunshine on day six so I pruned the deadwood from my fence perimeter oleanders. Don’t let the pretty flowers fool you. Although these Mediterranean specimens are easy to grow in almost any climate, every part of the oleander is poisonous to both animals and humans. Wear leather gloves when working with oleanders as the sap can cause severe allergic reactions and clean shears with bleach. Do not add the flowers, leaves, or branches to compost piles. Dispose of them to your trash secured in a plastic bag.

Day seven dawned dark, dreary, cold, and wet. It was time to bring in my weathered wood, make a cup of hot cocoa, light a fire, and read a book. Growing up on the farm without central heat, our only source of warmth in winter was a roaring fire. ‘Tis the season to be jolly and cozy!

The rain continues to wash the spiders out!

Happy Holidays! Happy gardening! Happy Growing!

Cynthia Brian’s Gardening Guide for December SAVOR the final days of fall foliage on your deciduous trees. As the temperatures drop, the colors become more intense, especially on maples, crape myrtles, liquid ambers, and pistache. STOMP mole runs to encourage those burrowers to move on. PRUNE euphorbia to the ground or if it has become invasive, dig out the roots. BE ALERT for yellowjacket nests in the ground. Call Vector Control for eradication. (925) 685-9301 REPURPOSE Thanksgiving gourds by spray-painting them in metallic colors of gold silver, bronze, copper, red, green, or blue. Use in your holiday décor. MAKE your own Christmas wreaths and garlands with boughs from your redwood, cedar, pine, or other conifer trees. Add berries of holly, cotoneaster, Chinese pistache, or pyracantha for a homemade creation. DON’T mow your lawns when it is raining. Wet grass bends over and you’ll end up with uneven cuts. Also, mowing when your lawn is soaked will cause ruts, compaction, and even uproot the grass. SEASON wood for at least a year before burning in fireplaces or wood-burning stoves. Green wood is heavy and smokes, doesn’t provide heat, and can build up large quantities of creosote which can cause a fire in your chimney. Have your fireplace and chimney inspected and swept at least once per year. Enjoy a fire only on safe days, never on spare-the-air notifications. NEVER burn oleander wood. The smoke is toxic and poisonous. Never use oleander as skewers for meat as this practice can be deadly. Place cut oleander branches in a plastic bag and put it in your trash bin. Remember that all parts of the oleander can be fatal to humans and animals. ADD a whimsical statue to your garden to bring a smile to your guests during inclement weather. PLANT bulbs for spring. CLEAN rain gutters. Add the debris to your compost pile. SCATTER poppy and lupine seeds. COME to 5A Rent-A-Space in Moraga on Saturday, December 14th from 11-3 pm with your children for a Visit with Santa. Be the Star You Are!® volunteers will be on hand to help kids write a letter, and take their photo with St. Nick. Crafts and treats included at this FREE event. For more information visit: https://www.bethestaryouare.org/events PICK Meyer lemons to add zest to your celebratory menus. COMBINE containers of Christmas cactus and cyclamen for a pretty holiday display.

Photos and more at https://www.lamorindaweekly.com/archive/issue1321/Digging-Deep-with-Cynthia-Brian-Tis-the-Season.html

  Cynthia Brian, The Goddess Gardener, raised in the vineyards of Napa County, is a New York Times best-selling author, actor, radio personality, speaker, media and writing coach as well as the Founder and Executive Director of Be the Star You Are!® 501 c3. Tune into Cynthia’s StarStyle® Radio Broadcast at www.StarStyleRadio.com. Buy a copy of her books, Growing with the Goddess Gardener and Be the Star You Are! Millennials to Boomers at www.cynthiabrian.com/online-store. Hire Cynthia for writing projects, garden consults, and inspirational lectures. Cynthia@GoddessGardener.com www.GoddessGardener.com

keywords:#Christmas, #holidays, #winter, #December ,#gardening, #cynthiabrian, #starstyle, #goddessGardener, #growingwiththegoddessgardener, #lamorindaweekly

[tswatch]

I have felt nothing good for the last 3 almost 4 years, then I met a friend that I could trust and talk to and feel close with but that got thrown back at me, I feel like I don't deserve life... there is now no reason for me not to self harm bad

Hey,

I am sorry to hear that you’ve been struggling for such a long time, that must be really hard for you.

Finding people in life that you can trust is important, but it can be very hard as well. Sometimes we meet someone that feels like such a great person to be around, but it turns out to be different. Sometimes we meet someone who is really amazing but you only get to spend a few weeks together. People come, people go. Some will help us, some won’t. But that shouldn’t stop us from looking for new people. Nice people will cross your way, mean people will cross your way. But you can learn from both. Some people will stay with your for a few weeks, others will stay with you for years and maybe someone will stay with you for the rest of your life.

When it comes to mental health, it does feel good to have a friend you can talk to, but sometimes it gets hard, because the other person might feel triggered, they might not know how to help you, they might feel overwhelmed with it. That’s why some people turn against you. But it is not impossible to find a friend like this, sometimes it just needs a while to find them and get to know them.

However I think you should talk to a professional person about this, consider a therapy, consider talking to your doctor about it. They will have the most experience with it and they will probably be able to help you the most.

You do deserve life, okay? Every human being deserves to be alive, every human being deserves to be happy.

I understand that you are going through a hard time, but do not try to deal with this by harming yourself. Harming yourself will just make it so much worse than it already is.

I don’t know if you harmed yourself before or not, but please think about what it will do to you and maybe even other people.

You will start living in your own world

You will isolate yourself and withdraw from human contact

You will lose many friends

You will get in trouble with your parents

You will be very insecure

You will be scared to leave the house

You will be scared of what others might think of you, when they see your scars

You will get sad and depressed

You will feel hopeless all the time

You will live with a constant urge to harm yourself more and more

You will spend more money on long sleeved clothes

You will scan other people and look out for people who are like you,but in most cases, you will only see clean arms and smiling people,which will make you feel even worse

You will think you can keep your self-harming under control, when in reality, it will get worse and worse and the addiction becomes more and more dangerous

You will spend hours thinking about how to hide your new injuries

You will spend even more hours cleaning all your clothes, the bathroom floor, towels etc. from your blood

You will have to say goodbye to all the beautiful things in summer; no cute pants, or skirts, or shirts, no beach, no more swimming, you will hide at home

You will melt in summer, because you will wear a huge sweater, so no one sees your scars and injuries

You will hate yourself more and more

You are afraid you might trigger other people with it and they will start harming themselves as well

You will wish you never started to harm yourself

You will hate your addiction, yet you will love it,and it’s more than hard, to get away from it

And the list goes on. It is not worth it to harm yourself!

If you feel the urge to harm yourself, there are much better things you can do. Things that will help you so much more over a long period of time.

Depending on how strong the urge to harm yourself is, there are different things you can do instead.

If the urge is rather small, try to distract yourself.

Listen to music or sounds of the nature

Sing

Play instruments or learn a new instrument

Watch a funny movie

Read a book

Paint

Draw

Paint your nails

Go out for a walk

Listen to the sound it makes when you walk over stones or leaves

Write down your feelings or good memories

Make some origami

Call or skype with a friend

Dress up or try on old clothes

Write creatively

Talk to someone

Do some sport

Eat or drink something delicious

Do some baking

Make funny faces in a mirror and take pictures

Read inspirational speeches

Learn a magic trick

Mess up your room

Watch some videos on Youtube

Clean your room

Learn something new like knitting or how to make a Tumblr theme

Go to the zoo and name all of the animals

Jump up and down, do rope jumping, or jump on a trampoline or your bed

Meditate or do some Yoga

Play a game

Go shopping

Recite a favourite monologue

Watch the sky

Do a puzzle, crossword or sudoku

Meet up with friends

Sleep

Do your homework

Watch your favourite TV program/show

Make up a roleplay about something you’d like to happen

Play with a pet

Have a bath or a shower

Make a scrapbook

Decorate your wall with inspirational quotes

Dance around your room like an idiot

Make a new Tumblr blog

Color your hair

Leave nice messages in someone's askbox

Take some pretty pictures outside

Get your friends and family and play board games

Tie a small string or a rope into knots

Make a tiny gift for your best friend

Make a bucket list

Smile to at least 5 people, bonus points if they are strangers

Go out and perform one act of kindness

Watch how the wind makes the leaves of the trees move.

Do volunteer work

Give your blog a makeover

Write a letter to a friend

Donate all the clothes you don’t like anymore

Go to a park and sit on the swings, be a little kid again

Plan your outfits for the week

Give someone a hug

Simply relax, and enjoy your life

If the urge is stronger and there are more emotions involved, try to let out these emotions.

Scream really loud into a pillow

Let yourself cry

Go to an open space and shout all the things you hate right now

Scribble on photos of people in magazines

Tear apart newspapers, photos, or magazines

Throw a ball/stone/ice cube etc. against a wall

Listen to music and sing along loudly

Beat up a stuffed animal or a pillow

Blow up balloons and pop them

Build a fort of pillows and then destroy it

On a sketch or photo of yourself, mark in red ink what you want to do;cut and tear the picture

Write your feelings on paper, then rip it up or burn it

Make a soft cloth doll to represent the things you are angry at;cut and tear it instead of yourself

Break sticks or old things you don’t need anymore

Cut up fruits

Pull weeds in the garden

Put on nail polish, then peel it off

Splash your face with cold water

Slash an empty plastic soda bottle, or a piece of heavy cardboard, or an old shirt or sock

Instead of punishing yourself by self-harming, punish yourself by not self-harming

Put down your emotions in a creative way, like writing, poetry, writing a song,writing into your diary, drawing on paper or yourself, singing, music, anything like this

The Butterfly Project: Draw a butterfly on the place(s), where you would like to harm yourself.If the butterfly fades without self-harming, it means it has lived and flown away,it's like giving a sense or feeling of achievement.Whereas if you do harm yourself with the butterfly there, you killed to butterfly.If that does happen, you can start again by drawing a new one on.You are not allowed to wash of the butterfly, it has to fade on its own.You can also name the butterfly after someone you love.

Think of a loved one [a friend, family member, or anyone else who cares about you]and write their name on the place(s) where you want to harm yourself.When you want to harm yourself, remember how much they careand how they wouldn’t want you, to harm yourself.

Create a safe place to go 

Be with someone and talk to them about how you feel

Try to imagine the future and plan things, you want to do 

Make a list of all the positive things in your life 

List all the reasons, why you don’t want to harm yourself, or make a pros and cons list

Remember why you want to recover

If the urge is really extreme, try to do something that falls under alternatives to harming yourself or try to do something that gives you an intense feeling.

Draw red lines on the places you want to cut, or use red watercolor,and put it on the place where you want to cut; it will look like it’s bleeding

Viciously stab an orange or an apple

Eat something really sour

Do sport, like running, strength training, jumping on a trampoline,dancing etc., until you are completely exhausted

Take a hot/cold shower or bath

Drink freezing cold water

Wax your legs or plug your eyebrows

Bite into a hot pepper or chew a piece of ginger root

Rub ice across your skin, where you want to harm yourself,or hold it in your hands

Put rubber bands on wrists, arms, or legs and snap them

Try out as many things as you can and try to figure out what helps you the most. Make a list of the things that helped you, keep the things you need for that close to you.

Please take care of yourself!

- Belle

[the-opal-dragons-roost]

Warm: a short drabble about a perfect day

featuring August and Cairo

           The sun is rising and the room is full of light. Warm rays color the walls and blankets with shades of gold so vibrant that the space almost looks like sunset. Sleepiness hangs in the air like suspended dust particles. All is quiet and still.

           August is curled up in a tangled nest of blankets. He’s awake, but his eyes are closed. There’s no need to move from where he was, no duty or responsibility to drag him from this state of utter peace. He stretches leisurely, limbs extended as far as they would go (which, admittedly, isn’t very far), and then rolls over and curls up again, turning the other side of his face to the rising sun.

           Beside him, Cairo is similarly caught in that dream state between sleep and awake. He dozes near August’s feet, his larger form catching more of the sunlight as it streams in through the window. A breeze stirs his hair as he shifts, head resting at the small of August’s back. For once, he too feels no need to move. The day is new and has barely begun. Later, they would need to rise and get food, but there was no rush and no other responsibilities that needed tending to.

           Outside, birds sang, filling the stillness with music.

             The trail is silent save for the sound of birdsong overhead. This stillness should probably be concerning, though August and Cairo take it as a sign of people already arriving wherever they are headed.

           Tree branches arc overhead, sending shadows speckling the ground below. Squirrels dart across the trail and around the tree trunks. A rabbit runs for cover as the two pass by.

           The sun was still rising and the air hadn’t yet warmed completely. The smell of morning mist still clung to the air, having not yet been blown away by the wind or burned off by the sun.

           August points out the flowers that bloom on the edges of the trail. He wonders if the same flowers had bloomed the year before.

           Cairo has no answer to this: he doesn’t remember seeing them, though he appreciates their presence now.

           Fat bumblebees land on flowers and roll around until they are dusted yellow with pollen. They buzz quietly as they rise, flew a few yards, and then repeat the process.

           August and Cairo’s steps tap quietly as they wander. They have a destination in mind but there’s no timeframe in which to arrive. In fact, there’s no pressure to get there at all. So they continue to meander, feet following the trail out of habit rather than intent. Their conversation alternates between lighthearted chatter (“I bet there will be a lot of people at the park today”) and more though provoking subjects (I don’t know if the future I’m pursuing is worth it,”), but mostly they walk in silence and bask in the knowledge that they have all day to arrive (or not arrive) wherever they’re headed.

             The day is bright and bold, splashed with colors all across the rainbow. The sky is a rich blue, dotted only by a few of the brightest and puffiest of clouds. The grass is long and thick, overgrown in some places, cool and springy underfoot. There is the sweet smell of plants and living things, brushed with a crisp breeze that keeps the midday heat at bay.

           August and Cairo lay beneath the wide branches of an ancient oak tree. Shadows dapple beams of light across their shoulders and backs as the leaves sway in the wind. The blanket beneath them is cushioned by the thick grass that creeps nearly all the way to the base of the tree’s trunk.

           Around them, the fields are filled with other people who are also enjoying the weather. Children run and play, shrieking with joy as they chase each other around the grassy slopes. Bikers zoom by, racing down the narrow-paved paths that wind through the park. Others are walking, talking, or simply standing and marveling at the day.

           Paper rustles as August flips the page of a well-loved book. His voice is quiet as he reads aloud passages that both he and Cairo had read many times before. They both knew the words by heart, but there was something comforting about reading them again, saying them out loud.

           The chapter closes and August reaches for his thermos of peach iced tea. Cairo shifts from where he’d been laying, his head lazily propped up by August’s shoulder. He moves just enough so he can see the book himself and picks up where August had left off.

             The sky turns pale gold again when the sun begins to sink. The air is cooler and long shadows are beginning to stretch across the world. The birds are singing their final tunes of the evening and the frogs are slowly beginning their nightly chorus.

           Book and blanket and iced tea are packed away to be retrieved later. The world is quieter than it had been before, many of the people and families of the day had gone home hours ago. Still, a few remained. Teens played a game of frisbee, a young couple walked a pair of dogs. There were still a few children running about as the sun began to sink toward the horizon.

           August runs across the field with the wild exhilaration of a child. His feet patter across the shorter stretch of grass and motion-driven wind whips through his hair. He has no destination in mind, his body moving wherever it will. When he reaches the end of the park, he turns on a dime and heads back the way he’d come, taking an ever so slightly different path so his circuit doesn’t get boring.

           Cairo is on his heels. His legs are much longer, so he lopes along at a leisurely pace as August sprints on ahead. Still, Cairo isn’t fully left behind. When he feels he’s too far back, he lowers his head and leans just a bit more into his stride. Soon he’s caught up and then overtaking his companion.

           The two race across the grass, too energized by the wind and the coming night to feel tired or out of breath. The ground is warm beneath them and the air is now cool. Crickets join the frogs in their nightly song and the first few stars dot the horizon.

           The game ends when August stumbles. He’s caught by the thick grass and is unhurt even as his momentum sends him rolling partway down the slope. He’s dizzy and laughing at his own ridiculousness by the time Cairo stops and returns to his side.

           Cairo sits beside him and the two catch their breath as the sun eventually disappears and the evening slowly melts into twilight.

             The rain came out of nowhere, but they are back home now, so it doesn’t matter. There is a fire in the hearth, blazing with orange and red light. The flames flicker, sending the shadows scattering back into the darkness. The crackle of burning logs mixes with the soft hiss of the distant rain.

           August sits with his back against the couch. His knees are drawn to his chest, laptop and drawing tablet both braced against his legs as he sketches out the beginnings of another picture. His stylus scratches quietly against the plastic tablet, the sound interrupted by the occasional click of the trackpad or the momentary pause in artistic inspiration.

           Cairo lays nearby, stretched out in front of the fire. August’s non-drawing elbow nudges his head every once in a while, but he can’t find the will to move. The rug beneath him is thick and soft and his body sinks into it.

           A small set of speakers sits on the couch cushions and a quiet piano melody plays. It’s a familiar tune, one that both know very well. It plays during a specific setting (the song is from a video game), but there’s something about the melody that August has always associated with a warm fire on a dark night. It’s set on repeat, and never ends even as the night goes on.

             The stillness is back as rain continues to fall. Outside, the scenery is blurred by the rain, and the ground glitters in the streetlights. It’s too late for anyone to be out, and few are awake.

           The room is dark and quiet. Only August’s face is visible from the pile of blankets he’s under. Dark eyes lazily watch the rain as he takes in the air. The entire world smells like it’s being scrubbed clean, like a cold shower after a hot day. The heat had long since burned off and the rain-washed air that is blown in through the window is cold.

           Cairo curls around August’s smaller form and he shoves his head under the folded edge of a blanket. He listens to the rain though the cold burns his nose. The rest of him is warm, though he still appreciates the gesture when August tosses another fold of blanket over his shoulders.

           Both are quiet and still as sleep slowly settles over them like another blanket. The exercise of the day makes limbs and eyelids feel heavy, and the familiar hiss of the rain chases away any thought of staying awake. A few vague ideas and thoughts of the following day flit around like snowflakes; pretty and bright, but melting before they can settle and stick. Whatever the next day would bring would be dealt with in the morning.

           The long silence is eventually broken by a quiet voice. “Goodnight, Cairoo,” August says. There is a world of affection in those two words, words spoken to his lifelong protector, confidante, and friend.

           “Goodnight, August,” Cairo responds in turn, addressing the friend, ward, and master he’s known since his first day of existence.

           The two return to silence and the rain continues to fall.