#there's dew drive safe people

[iftitah]

we've had around ten vehicular accidents in the past ten days im so scared

[nightraiderwrites]

The Implications of an Unlocked Door

The nature of dreams.

Tws: unreality, explicit descriptions of violence -.-.-

The dream starts on a train. 

It’s one of the trains that are used for local transportation; rides across a city or a town. The people who ride it are ordinary. Students, yawning off a night of study. Office workers, struggling to stay awake, balancing a coffee in hand. Old men, on their way to the gambling hole. Women on their way to the market.

To you, there is a crowd in a train, and this is a perfectly normal dream. Slowly, you take it in. The train moves over a bridge, and the sun rises out the window. Someone has spilled coffee on the floor. You can smell it. The seats are old.

The train rolls into a dark tunnel. Overhead, lights flicker on weakly, washing the compartment in dim white light.

This is, you think, a nice dream. A different world, a different time, where things are normal.

It’s in a split second of darkness when you see him. As the lights flicker, throwing the train car in pitch black, you see his eyes. Deep, ominous red.

You shudder involuntarily. This is a dream, you remind yourself. He cannot hurt you here. You are safe.

The tips of his hair are blue. There are deep bags under his eyes. His hands are hidden.

This is a dream, you remind yourself. You do not know how you know it is a dream, but it must be.

The train rumbles on. Above, the automated voice announces the next stop.

“I love you,” he says, voice thick and raspy, and then you know it is a dream because he had never told you that and you know he would never say it.

“I love you,” he says again, and you hang on every word like it’s the last thing you’ll ever hear.

You had forgotten, the cadence of his voice. He did not speak for so long, and the first thing you forget about a person is the sound of their voice.

You take a step closer. He takes a step back.

The train slides out of the tunnel, the morning light flooding into the carriage. You blink at the sudden light, and he’s gone.

~

The dream starts in the plains.

Morning dew soaks the knees of your pants as your hands grip his throat. He isn’t doing anything to stop you. Why isn’t he doing anything? Why isn’t he crying out?

Blood is splattered over your arms. It stains the white of your shirt, and you press deeper, your wait digging into his chest. He reaches weakly for your wrist. Darkness creeps over your vision.

It’s taking so long for him to die, you note impatiently. You should just snap his neck. 

Tap. Tap. Tap. 

You exhale.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

His face is turning blue. Ice starts forming around you, solidifying the dew on the grass. It spreads around you, driving away everyone else, but not you. No, the ice never touches you.

He loves you. You love him too much to let the tender bones give way beneath your hands.

There is no world in which you kill him.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

His mouth moves. “Fal-”

Morning dew soaks into the back of your white shirt as his hands grip your throat.

You understand now, why he didn’t struggle. His weight presses into your chest, and you feel your ribs crack, a little.

The thing about being choked is that you can feel everything. There is air that does not enter your lungs and there are knees pinning your wrists to the floor. Wet dew seeps into your clothes. There is no more blood on your hands.

He’ll snap your neck. Any moment now, and he’ll do it.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Your hands move on instinct. Your wrists are pinned with his knees, yes, but your fingers can still touch his legs.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

You love him. He still kills you.

~

The dream starts in front of a glowing purple portal.

Lizzie stands in front of you. “Alright,” she says. It’s obvious to you that she’s a cat wearing a mask, but maybe you shouldn’t point that out. “We’ve got a weird magic portal, so obviously the most logical thing to do is go through.” 

Everyone nods, like this is a perfectly normal thing to do. You think it’s insane, but no one else disagrees.

Katherine and Shelby lock hands. They share a kiss before stepping through the swirling magic portal. You watch as Joel hugs Lizzie and kisses Sausage carefully before jumping in as well. 

You’re the last to enter. You watch as Pix and Jimmy and all the others go through and your heart aches. 

Something tugs at you as you are about to step through; a hand, maybe, someone with hands the same size as yours, and familiar enough to grasp your own like nothing else matters.

Don’t go, the person begs, because you are sure it is someone now. If you go, you’ll be changed forever. 

There is nothing more terrifying than change. You had woken up in this world with bleeding wings and half empty memories, and the world has done nothing but change.

The portal hums, almost menacingly. Change is scary. You don’t want to change. You want to stay exactly the same, because if you change, you’ll never know who you are. You’ll never know who you were. You’ll never know who you could be.

So you don’t go through. No one will notice if you don’t, so you stay. You shake your head and turn away from the glowing portal, boots heavy on the unsteady wooden platform.

You step. Left foot, right foot, feeling like you have been unmoored.

The platform isn’t built well. There is no one to catch you when your foot goes through the splintered plank and submerges you into the river.

~

The dream starts with your hand resting over a familiar door knob.

You hesitate. It’s night time. When you walk in, you know that Tango will be waiting on the couch, and Pearl will be upstairs, Pix will be in his room or out in his swamp base, and Gem will be…

Gem will be gone.

You turn the handle. “Hey, Tango,” you say. No one replies.

The lights are on, but the house is empty. There is no one home. 

Fire crackles, casting a soft glow over the wooden flooring. Four pairs of shoes are lined up where you left yours. There are no dishes in the sink.

You climb the rafters. The paper eagle- the one from god -is gone. Your shelf is bare, the satchel you had brought to this world, your spare knives and the threadbare blanket that you had folded this morning are all gone.

Gracefully, you tip backwards and fall silently to the floor. The house is quiet, deathly still, almost as if it's holding in a breath. You don’t like that. Dead houses don’t breathe.

You climb the stairs, struggling to find your way in the dark. There’s never really a reason for you to come here, other than calling Pearl to dinner or dragging Pix to bed, so the beautifully carved handrail feels unfamiliar in your grasp.

It’s cold. Despite the fire you know was running in the living room, chill clings to your fingers and your breath fogs your vision.

There is no way it should be this cold. The stairs are slippery with ice and frost covers your sleeves. Your movements are stiff as you step, joints creaking and squeaking. But you’re so close.

The landing is two or three steps away. Surely you can make that. How long have you been walking up for? It’s impossibly close.

Squeeze your eyes tight. Squeeze them so hard you feel a hot tear streak down your cheek and turn to ice. This house is not your prison. This house is not your home. This house is not your love.

When you open your eyes, you are on the landing. The cold is gone. It is no longer dark.

Sunlight fills the hallway. Golden light falls through the window, lighting your path to the room at the very end of the hall.

You have a feeling about who is waiting. You missed her so much.

At first, your steps are slow as you feel your feet on the hardwood below. In your lungs, it’s like breathing sunlight. The air is like honey.

But you can’t take it anymore. You break into a sprint, cheeks hurting from how wide you’re grinning. You shouldn’t let yourself hope it’s her, but you can’t help it.

The corridor shortens, and you stop, breathless. A sun is carved into the door, and the soft morning light makes the rays glow. This has to be a sign, right? It’s her. It’s her. It’s her.

God, why are you hoping? It never goes your way. Everything you hope for never happens. People betray you, they leave you or you leave them. Nothing you hope for ever happens.

Still. You really hope it's her.

Your hand hovers over the familiar door knob.

Take a breath. Breathe in. Breathe out. It’s only opening a door.

It’s only a small change.

You grasp the knob and turn. It opens, easily, as if it was made to be opened. As if it was made to be changed.

The first thing you notice when you walk into the room is the light. Every nook and cranny is filled, and you can see everything. From the shrine of candles on a table to a small bed tucked in the corner of the room, everything is… gold.

She’s leaning against the windowsill, eyes closed with a smile curling on the edge of her lips. Her hands are folded in front of her, and her crown shines gold. Soft breaths rise and fall in her chest.

You don't… remember her ever looking so content. There was always sadness or stress or a glance at the future creasing her brow or pulling her mouth into a frown. She had always been burdened with destiny, and you had never been strong enough to lift it.

As you stop in the doorway, she opens her eyes and turns to you. They’re green, with little hints of purple. It makes you pause, unnerved.

“False,” she says. She opens her arms, wide. It’s been so long. 

You can’t take it anymore. No more waiting. No more looking over your shoulder a missing presence. No more cold.

You crash into her, buying your head on her shoulder. “I missed you,” you mumble. You sniffle. It really has been so long.

Gem strokes your hair. “I know,” she says. “But you’ve been so brave. I’ve been gone, but you’ve been so brave.”

Tears start welling up in your eyes. “I don’t want to be brave anymore,” you sob. They streak down, hot and fast. “I don’t want to be alone.”

Her hand stills. You cling to her like you’ll drown if you let go. “I’m sorry you have to go through this,” Gem murmurs. It’s strange. It’s almost like she’s apologizing for leaving you alone. You start to panic.

You pull away, breathing hard. “Gem,” you say, shaky. The world feels unsteady under your feet. Nothing is golden anymore. “Are you leaving again?”

The sunlight drips away. From the bed to the candles to the door, flashing the sun at you the color bleaches, fading away. Even the color on that gets sucked in towards the center. Gem’s room pales in comparison to her, and she herself grows in color, vibrancy bursting from her figure.

Your hands are still on her shoulders. It burns.

“Gem,” you repeat, desperate. She keeps leaving. Nothing good ever lasts. You should know this by now. “Gem.”

The room is faded, like a toy left in the sun too long. All the color has been sucked dry, and Gem is the radiant sun.

She’s still smiling softly at you. You hate it. No, that can’t be right. You could never hate Gem. But how can she be standing there, smiling…?

“False,” she says. “My knight. My loyal soldier. But most importantly, my friend.” Your chest is heaving, and you cannot let her go. “You are a good sword,” Gem tells you. Her eyes flash - purple, gold, green, gold - but she smiles, carefree. “You are a good sword,” she repeats, “but you are an even greater friend. Don’t forget that, okay?”

It hurts to look at Gem. You want to shield your eyes, look away, protect yourself, but you’ve never been good at caring for yourself. She is your blazing sun, and you are a helpless little dog.

“Don’t go,” you beg. She takes your hands off her shoulders and holds them tight. It burns. “I don’t want to be alone.”

“Oh False,” Gem says. The color in her eyes finally settle into a deep purple hue. Wings like the rays of the sun emerge from her back, and her robes flow like the ocean. Her crown glitters gold. A wry grin plays on her lips. “Don’t worry.” You can hear her heartbeat, like thunder.

It’s terrible.

“I’ll always be Watching.”

~

The dream starts on a train.

The sun sets over the horizon, throwing the city in front of it into a midnight silhouette. You sit in one of the seats. There is no one else in the carriage.

Someone had spilled coffee on the floor. Brown stains the grimy carriage floor, glistening wetly in the dying light. The seats are old.

You sit in one, observing the sun set. A soft orange glow makes everything feel warm. Unsteady. Unreal.

Your teeth rattle as the train rumbles on. In your chest, you feel your heart; ka-thud, ka-thud, ka-thud, assuring yourself that you are still alive.

Where is this train heading? You don’t know. All you know is the tracks seem to stretch forever, into eternity.

There are things to ponder. Your purpose, for example. If there is no one around, if there is no one to dedicate your life to, what are you even here for? Did you ever matter? 

Maybe. Maybe you mattered. More likely you didn’t.

Who cares, anyway? You?

Sometimes, thoughts are not there to be listened to.

The train heads into a tunnel. The lights remain off, throwing the carriage into total darkness.

When you come out the other side, he appears on the other side of the seats, facing you. His face is clean. His hair is yellow. There are no bags under his eyes.

“Hello,” you say. Swallow. “How have you been?”

He stares. “Oh,” he replies. “Good.”

The silence stretches between you. What are you supposed to say? What is he supposed to say? There is nothing that can be said.

“I haven’t forgiven you,” you say. Curl your fingers into a fist. Your nails dig into your palm. A lie. “I haven’t forgiven you.”

Across the carriage, his lips curl into a smile. Do you remember the last time he smiled?

“I know,” he tells you, but you know he knows it’s a lie. Everyone always says you suck at lying. “You’ve been very brave.”

Now he’s echoing Gem’s words. Gem left, so is he leaving too? You force the tears and the panic down, and shove them into a little locked chest inside your heart.

You close your eyes, leaning sideways. Your head lands on his shoulder. His breaths, steady and deep, are a soothing rhythm. He grasps your hand.

“Can you stay, this time?” you ask quietly. 

His breath hitches. “Okay,” he says. 

The train rumbles on.

~

So the implications of an unlocked door is this: it is just a door until you try and open it. Then, it gains either the adjective “locked” or “unlocked”. This means if you describe the door as “unlocked” you have changed it in a fundamental way so as the door is not just a door, but a door that you have interacted with and changed.

Therefore, the implication of an unlocked door is that a person existed to unlock it. A person has existed to change the door in a way that allows for further expansion and development. The door would have remained a door even if no one had bothered to try and open it.

Nevertheless, the sheer fact that someone opened the door showed they care about it. The door cares about the person too. It stands strong and guards the house. It unlocks for the person, allowing them to enter the home and rest.

A door is just a door until you try and open it. At the same time, a life is just a life until someone else enters it.

-.-.-.-

Hi :)

[thelampisaflashlight]

A Lack of Engagement Pt. 7: Favor

[Previous Entry: Here. A shorter installment, mostly because the next one will be the final entry in the ALOE series, and I wanted to drag things out a little more lol] Below the cut.

Despite the haste of their departure, once Rain's bedroom door is shut tightly behind them, they both take a moment to breathe and take in the room.

Rain's room is much the same as it was in the other universe, safe for the distinct lack of Dew's things, a subtler reassurance that they had safely returned to their reality, but a relief nonetheless.

Plopping down on the bed, neither of them can think of what to say, until...

"I want to do this slowly." Dew says, placing his hand over Rain's, a gesture that has the water ghoul looking over and shyly meeting his eyes, "...Is that okay with you?"

"I'll survive." Rain laughs, but after a pause, he says, "I have no problem with that... but I do have to ask, why?"

Dew links their hands together and worries his thumb over Rain's, "'Cause I like you, Rain. I really, really like you... and it's not... It's different with you somehow... and I want to know for certain that that's how I really feel, ya know?"

"You're worried that you might not actually like me?" Rain questions, and Dew quickly shakes his head.

"No, I just... You're my friend, and that means you're special to me, and I'm worried that if feelings get involved, or..." Dew takes a deep breath, "I want to enjoy... building something with you. I don't want this to be a fling or some heat of the moment hookup that ends in heartbreak... I've never really gotten to do any of the stupid, silly couple shit that other people have, but I want... I want to do those things with you. Before it becomes anything more than that."

Rain squeezes Dew's hand, "Tell me what you want. Talk to me about it."

Dew smiles and pulls Rain down onto the bed with him so they can lay together, fingers still intertwined.

"I... I want to go on dates together. Like when we went to the aquarium for my birthday." he says, "I want to hold hands and go for walks together, no pressure, just... Rainy, I want to do a lot of wholesome shit with you."

"Aww-"

"And then I want you to take me home, take me back to this room, and do the most disrespectful things to my body."

"Ohh~?"

Dew snorts and turns his head towards Rain.

"What do you want from this? From us?" Dew asks, "Do you want this?"

Rain closes his eyes.

"I want to get to know you in ways that no one else is allowed to." he says, "I want to look at you and know you're mine, and not just physically... I think. Emotions are hard and I know what you mean about... not wanting to fuck up what we have by rushing into something we're both a little shaky on."

"But I think going on dates, spending time together... I'd like that."

"Even if we don't have sex any time soon?" Dew inquires.

"If you're not ready for that, you're not ready for it. End of story." Rain assures him, "...I do have to admit that you showing me your dick in the bathroom did send a bit of a mixed message at the time-"

"Ugh, I can't believe I did that..." Dew groans, covering his face with his free hand.

"And the size..."

"Hey! I'm a grower, not a shower." the ghoul hisses, "...Speaking of dicks though... How're we going to find that thing without driving ourselves nuts looking all over the place for it?"

Rain thinks for a moment before opening his eyes.

"We could ask the groundskeeper for help."

"The groundskeeper...? What for?"

Rain sits up again, slowly.

"We know that the dick disappeared from the other world by falling into the lake at some point or another, but it somehow wound up inside the abbey, hence the rumor."

Dew nods.

"Maybe after we touched it, it tried to blip back, or maybe it did -in which case we're screwed and we're gonna have to pool our funds to buy the toll man a custom dildo- so maybe it ended up in the lake again...?"

"I mean, it's possible." Dew agrees, still laying down, "You think they'd be willing to help us? The groundskeeper that is?"

Rain hums, leaning back on his palms.

"I don't see why not. She lives by the lake anyway, she'd probably want to know if something weird or interesting was in it."

"She does?" Dew asks, "Is that who lives in the cabin over on the other side of the lake then?"

"Yeah, her name is Beatrix." Rain says, "I've talked to her a couple times, she's... very American."

Dew stares at him.

"Psycho or yee-haw eagle screech?"

Rain scrunches his nose and thinks.

"...I was gonna go with the yee-haw one, but I think Beatrix has the capacity to kill a man, and, honestly, that'd explain how she wound up here." Rain comments, "Sometimes I see her eyeing Copia while she's out driving the utility truck around, and you can almost hear her thinking about it."

"...How have I not met this woman yet?"

The water ghoul gives a concerned chirp, "...I think I'm going to regret introducing you two, aren't I?"

.

.

.

"...So let me get this straight." The groundskeeper says, hands pressed together in a prayer like gesture, "You want me to dredge the lake for a giant metal dick? One that was previously in the abbey's erotic art collection -which I was completely unaware of, the fuck kind of place is this- but, in another universe, fell into and/or was deliberately pushed into the lake during some kind of party?"

Rain and Dew nod, watching the woman's face shift from utter disbelief into a tired stare followed by a shrug and a, "Meh, why not? There are worse ways to spend an afternoon..."

"You're a lifesaver, Beatrix!" Rain sighs in relief, looking to Dew who smiles, "How can we ever repay-"

"It's just Bea." She says flatly, "Blueberry bushes."

Rain blinks.

"What?"

The groundskeeper gestures towards a cluster of blueberry starters sitting in a trailer attached to the abbey's utility vehicle.

"Mountain was supposed to help me plant those, but we got into an argument about something unrelated, so neither one of us has touched them all day, and they need to go into the ground asap, so..." Bea hands Dew a shovel, "There's only fifteen of them, so it shouldn't take you that long. That being said, heed the instructions on the booklet, don't fuck it up, and we'll be right as your namesake when all is said and done."

Dew watches the groundskeeper walk away and then turns to Rain.

"Why do I feel like this is going to be more work than looking for the dick ourselves?"

"It'll kill time at least..." Rain concedes, looking at the blueberry starters in the trailer, "...What do you think those two fought about?"

"Beats me." Dew replies, swapping the shovel back and forth between his hands, "You're the one who'd know her better, between the two of us."

"And Mountain knows her best." Rain says, "...Her and I, we talk, but her and Mount are buddies."

"Fuckbuddies or...?"

"Sure, we bang on the regs." Bea deadpans, appearing beside them once more, moving eerily silent for a human being, "Small hiccup in the plan, boys; Lake's fucking huge and I need to know some more specifics before this turns into a day long affair."

"But the blueberry bushes-" Rain starts.

"-Can wait five seconds while you point out the spot along the shoreline I should be searching." she says, "I realized about ten steps into my walk that I have literally no fucking idea which part of the lake to look at, and I'd rather work smarter not harder, especially if I gotta be in before the sun goes down."

"Before the sun goes down... What??" Rain splutters in confusion, "What are you, a reverse vampire??"

Bea glances over at the opposite shoreline.

"No, but if I don't get inside my cabin by sundown, Mountain said he's going to hunt me for sport, and then I'd be an undead, dead something or other, I guess." she says, "Think he might be serious this time."

"He's going to hunt you for sport??" Rain cries, "W-What did you do??"

"I called him 'submissive and breedable' as a joke, ya know, like the meme, and he may have taken that as a challenge."

"...And you're just gonna..." Rain tries to find the right words, "...I'm realizing now you don't sound in the slightest bit afraid. This is a sex thing, isn't it?"

"Don't kink shame me, or I'm not going to help."

"Okay, okay-"

"So you are fuckbuddies..." Dew says, nodding his head, "That's nice. Good for you."

"Thank you." Bea gestures towards the lake, "Now then, before I get furious, feral forest monster dick, let's go find yours."

Rain snorts.

"What?"

"No, I just... I guess it just hit me that we're looking for a giant dick." Rain laughs, "...It's been a long week."

Dew pats his shoulder, "Yeahh..."

Bea checks her phone.

"It's Monday, but same, bud, same..."

[ranchracoon]

"Blood, Flesh, and Bones"

Ch. 1 Disappearing Act

Master Post

Prologue

A new dawn begins with the rising of the sun as you startle awake back in the uncomfortable familiarity of your bed. With one heavy heave, you shove the covers off yourself and step onto the cold wooden flooring. Ania and your mother are awake as well to prepare the morning in peace before your father wakes. Mother works on breakfast, you tend to the stock, and Ania helps with morning chores. You don't mind the commute from your home to the farm, it's only a short walk downhill on the edge of the woods. The morning dew soaks your thin clothing but the shivers remind you that you're alive, and you can just be alone in existence. The first chore is emptying the food scraps from last nights dinner into the pig pen, mixed with their regular diet of rotten vegetables and grains. You open the pen for the chickens, they all come clucking out to greet the morning dew and peck at the pests in the field. All while you collect their portion of the rent. The few cows and goats chatter impatiently awaiting for you to relieve them of their milk which used to take you hours to finish. 

You could realistically get it done within an hour, but you take your time with each and every one to prolong the time spent alone. When all is done, you heave the containers of milk over your shoulder and carry the eggs in one hand. By the time breakfast is laid out and ready, your father awakens from his drunken stupor only to scarf his meal down like a ravenous dog, then get himself functional enough to tend to his job. He watches you the entire time, as he sloppily shoves food into his mouth. Every suitor he's tried to find you has mysteriously disappeared, he knows you have something to do with it; these disappearances have been happening for months since your grandmother's death. He just doesn't have the proof.

The moment he leaves everyone can breath a little easier. When you were younger, you would beg your mother to leave him, run away to the city where they can be safe but she was always too scared. You've squirreled away some money every time you get some, and you're so close to having enough. Today at the markets will make or break that; you just need a little more to get you and your sister out of this town. Your mother has made her bed. 

At the markets you sell the excess produce and animal products from your farm to surrounding towns and even some city folk who drive in just to get 'farm fresh' vegetables. Today was an especially good day, making record profits and sending you well over your monetary goals. As you're about to close up shop, a close personal friend of yours named Amber comes running up to you, hugging you from behind. You chuckle softly and turn around once she releases you, her beaming smile and radiant aura are always infectious. 

"Hey Morgan! Are you doing anything tonight?"

"Just the usual. Why?"

"Well, I heard that a couple people from the next town over are having a bonfire tonight and we're invited."

"Are you sure that's a safe decision? With all the people disappearing-"

"It'll be fine! We're going as a pretty large group, and I hear there's going to be some city girls there too."

Amber bounces excitedly, she's the only person in this whole town, other than your grandmother, who truly knows how you feel. You could care less about having a husband, or any man near you for that matter. You grind your teeth nervously, you could easily sneak out and go to this, but the vast amount of people who have gone missing makes you nervous. Then again, the last time she snuck out for a party was in high school, when she got drunk for the very first time. 

"Just think about it. We're meeting by Danny's Pub around 9, and Jason is going to drive us."

When you return home you do the same routine as you have done since you could walk; drop the money made onto the table for your father to waste on alcohol, go to the field and bring in the goats, cows, and pigs for the night, then heard the chickens in. Mother makes dinner, and Ania finishes cleaning up the house before your father stomps in with his dirty boots, dragging mud, dirt, and who knows what else into the house. He comes home an hour late, slumping into his chair and taking a bite of his food. No one can eat until he does.

"This is cold!" He slams his fork down.

"I'll heat it up for you" your mother gets up from her seat and grabs the plate.

"I work my ass off all day, the least you can fucking do is have a hot meal and a cold beer ready for me. God fucking damn."

She returns the plate and he takes another bite, after a few more bites the rest of your family begins to eat. When he finishes he sits back and looks around the table, taking a long drink from his bottle before sighing loudly. He takes the stack of money you left and counts it before shoving it into the pocket of his overalls, then he smacks his lips. 

"I'll be leaving for a few days" he proclaims. 

"Going where?" Your mother asks carefully. 

"Me and a few boys are going to travel to the city. Apparently there's a few other nearby towns that are also experiencing some disappearances. Dan said he tried to contact the county sheriff and was left on hold, so we'll be going in person. Otherwise, we're gonna set up our own search party."

You look at your father from the corner of your eye, taking a slow, deep breath to contain your excitement. This is exactly the opportunity you've been looking for! You've make up your mind; tonight you'll go to the party for one last hoorah, then when your father leaves you take Ania and bail. Mother won't do anything to stop you, and with your father gone that gives you at least a day or two head start. Everything is coming together. 

That night you sneak out the window as you've done thousands of times, landing softly on the ground below. You zip up your hoodie to keep the chill air at bay as you scamper across town to the pub. Amber spots you first and waves to you, squealing with excitement that you decided to come. Including you and Amber, there's ten people total; five in Jason's car and five in Rossela's. The car ride is filled with laughter, music, and a little pregaming for those not currently driving. You arrive to the party, seeing strangers from 'rival' towns all gathered to have fun, and for once in a very long time you let yourself relax. 

As the night goes on, the alcohol runs faster, you've managed to only nurse a singular drink  but you pretend to keep refilling it. Amber finds you eventually and drags you all over the party, trying to find you someone to dance with but not having much luck. Instead she dances with you, trying to get you to loosen up which works. How can you say no to her? She refills your cup, brings it to your lips and tips it up for you until your previous anxieties are melted away. Once your head is nice and fuzzy, you follow her blindly considering she's the only person you really know here. 

She takes your hand and guides you off, away from the party. Your heart starts to hammer in your chest, you won't deny you've always had a secret admiration of your best friend. How could you not? She has gorgeous red hair that flows down her back, cute little freckles that show up when she's been in the sun too long, and the most hypnotizing green eyes. Maybe all your sick fantasies are coming true, as she drags you deeper toward the woods. The whispers of warning on the wind fall on deaf ears. 

She turns around, holding both of your hands in hers as she smiles up at you, but her genuine smile turns into that of sadness as you're ripped from her grasp. You tug and fight with all your might, managing to toss one of the people holding you, and forcing another to take their place. The two people fight and struggle with you, until you are brought up and tossed into a literal dog cage with the lock clamped shut with a padlock. 

"Amber? Amber what the fuck! Get me out of here."

Amber approaches, her brows furrowed in sorrow as tears run down her face, "I'm sorry Morgan. They have my sister! This is the only way I can get her back."

You sit there hopelessly as your once best friend turns away from you, and you look around seeing numerous others from the party also locked in different sized cages. A man dressed in all black approaches Amber, motioning toward a pickup where Amber's sister, Lara, comes running out. They embrace each other tightly, Amber sobbing quietly as she clutches her little sister. You sit back on the hard steel frame, sighing heavily as you bring your legs to your chest and rest your forehead on your knees. Could you truly say you wouldn't have done the same for Ania?

Chapter 2

[actual-gremlin]

@crush-like-that here’s that song analysis you asked me about!

Buckle up cowboy because I’ve got a LOT to say. so, in my mind, this is set right after the Battle of Manhattan. Will has just lost most of his siblings, and he’s now in charge of not only his canon, but also the infirmary. That’s a HUGE responsibility for a 13 year old, ESPECIALLY a grieving one. My guys going through it, and this song perfectly captures it imo.

(lyrics are in italics)

It'll be fine by dusk light I'm tellin' you, baby These things eat at your bones and drive your young mind crazy

So this first little bit is Will trying to convince himself that he’s going to be fine without his siblings. He can’t stop thinking about his siblings and the patients he lost. -these things eat at your bones and drive your young kind crazy-

But when you place your head between my collar and jaw I don't know much but there's no weight at all

He misses his siblings more than life itself. To me, this lyric symbolizes the realization that you’ll never see the person, or feel them hug you ever again.

And I'm damned if I do and I'm damned if I don't 'Cause if I say I miss you I know that you won't

This might be a bit of a stretch, but HC that a lot of campers resent Micheal and Clarrise for their petty argument surrounding the Chariot and since most people are to scared of Clarrise to say anything to her face, they take it out on Michael’s memory instead, causing him to be a pariah of sorts. So this is Will knowing that he can’t say he misses Micheal, because he doesn’t want people to get mad at him for ‘defending someone who caused a bunch of deaths’. But I miss you in the mornings when I see the sun Somethin' in the orange tells me we're not done

Every sunrise is like a stab in the gut, because (HC) the Apollo kids used to watch them all the time. He can’t do that anymore. He’s too busy in the infirmary, and he has to push his grief down to keep moving.

To you I'm just a man, to me you're all I am Where the hell am I supposed to go?  I poisoned myself again Somethin' in the orange tells me you're never comin’ home

So to me, the chorus is Will trying to find solace (ha) in his mom, but she’s in the middle of touring, so she doesn’t have time for him. The ‘where the hell am I supposed to go?’ part is him realizing there’s no safe space for him to grieve and feel the way he needs to. So he pushes it all down and keeps moving forward. He overworks himself in the infirmary because he feels like he has no use elsewhere. On those short moments where he stops moving for long enough to remember, it almost destroys him because he’s kept it down for so long.

I need to hear you say you've been waitin' all night There's orange dancin' in your eyes from bulb light Your voice only trembles when you try to speak  Take me back to us dancin', this wood used to creak

Sibling Angst time!! He desperately wants to hear Lee tell him that he was ‘worried sick! You left no note and we had no idea where you were!’ When he sneaks out with Drew to hang in the woods. He misses the therapy sessions they used to have that always ended in dance party’s punctuated by the creaking of the wood floors.

If you leave today, I'll just stare at the way The orange touches all things around The grass, trees and dew, how I just hate you Please turn those headlights around Please turn those headlights around

He sees his siblings in everything. The way the sun radiates off of his fathers cabin, the grass where they played frisbee, the trees he climbed to get out of dish duty, the dew they used to roll around in first thing in the morning. He’s begging them to come home, even though he knows it’s impossible.

anyways, this was fun!

[iamthecomet]

I was thinking about redrawing Barbie&Ken mugshot meme w ghouls but realized that all of them are Ken in this situation. what a dynamic. they're "doesn't mind/enjoys murder, prefers to cross the road safely" at best.

On a side note, do you think ghouls can drive? I feel like it's more complicated so it's more of a "can drive - can't drive & should be driving - shouldn't be driving" diagram. Dew imo is "can drive/shouldn't be driving"

I absolutely agree that all ghouls are Ken in that situation--just chaos incarnate. That's why we love them. As far as driving, I absolutely have thoughts! I think some but not all of the ghouls are allowed to drive. I think all of them could be taught and could drive. But several of them should..just...not. Dew - Can drive. Is allowed to drive. Is a good driver. Is also a terrifying driver. But you will never be late if Dew's driving. Also, loves driving. Will fight anyone for the keys. Aether--great driver. Best driver. Safe. Sane. No sudden movements. Doesn't make anyone car sick. Really the best option when it comes to driving everyone around. It's really too bad he hates doing it. Rain--can drive. Doesn't. Why should he when someone else can do it? Wants to always ride shotgun though--says he gets car sick otherwise (he doesn't though, he's just a liar). Cirrus--again, great driver. A little scarier than Aether, as a touch of road rage. Cumulus-- not allowed to drive anymore. Too much road rage. It's a shame though--she's actually pretty good at it. Except for the screaming at people part. Aeon and Aurora are both still learning--it's looking more and more like Aeon will be allowed to drive but Aurora will not. Again. Road. Rage. But also, like Rain, why should she have to when someone else can? Swiss - Decent, but distractable. Will absolutely get the car where it needs to go--but might almost hit a few things on the way. Like Dew, loves to drive, maybe shouldn't. Mountain -- cautious driver. But a good one. Tends to brake too much which can make some people car sick. Sunshine - Has not been allowed to drive since The Incident. We do not talk about the the incident (she thought she was in reverse but was in drive and almost ran the car into the front of the grocery store and a handful of old ladies).

[thetomorrowshow]

fighting back

Empires Superpowers au masterlist

this takes place about 4 months after the end of ‘poisoned rats’.

cw: food, flashbacks/panic attacks in a public place

~

“Here’s your menus, can I get you both something to drink?”

“Diet Pepsi, please,” Scott says, raising an eyebrow at Jimmy, who manages a stuttered, “Water, thank you.”

Scott nudges him after the waiter leaves. “Boring.” “Caffeine used to really screw with my powers,” Jimmy admits. “I haven’t had any in a long while, but I used to drink a bunch of Mountain Dew, and coffee every morning. Stopped when I was around twenty-three, I think.”

Scott leaves it at that, instead asking, “So you’ve never been to a restaurant before?”

“When I was a kid my parents would take Lizzie and me to, like, buffet places,” Jimmy shrugs. “But then my mom got really sick at one, and going out as a family to someplace nice was too expensive. So we got fast food drive-throughs on road trips or for celebrations, but not much else.”

“Criminal. What do you want to order?”

Jimmy thumbs through the plastic menu, biting his lip. “Um. Not sure. Do I have to get from—”

“Here are your drinks,” the waiter interrupts, placing a tall glass of soda in front of Scott and a matching one in front of Jimmy. “I’ll be back in a few minutes for your order!”

“Thanks so much,” Scott says, Jimmy echoing him. He takes a sip of the water, ice clacking against his teeth.

It’s not a fancy restaurant, by any means. It’s a diner in a cheap part of town, a place that Scott had said has the best fries and milkshakes and had gotten very excited when Jimmy had said he’d never really been out to eat before. Jimmy’s fairly sure that Scott’s made a list of places to eat, to go along with all the sights Jimmy’s never seen and the foods Jimmy’s never tried.

There’s a decent crowd of people here, too, which is why Jimmy’s more put-out than anything else when he feels a hand run through his hair.

He jumps a little, glances around to make sure nobody is near him. Scott glances up at him, then back to the menu.

“I’m gonna get the roast beef sliders. Anything sound good to you?”

No flashbacks sounds good to him, but it doesn’t look like that’s going to happen, phantom fingers curling around his hair. He turns his eyes back to the menu, stares at it uncomprehendingly for a few moments. “Um, you pick,” he says, pushing the menu to Scott. “What’s good here?”

“Ooh, definitely the reuben if you like rye, but the turkey and swiss is always a safe choice. Good?”

“Mhm, sounds fine,” Jimmy mumbles. He tries to grab hold onto anything Scott had told him about the food here through the brain fog of flashbacks. “Uh, you said the fries are good?”

“Ooh yes, I’ll get us both fries and milkshakes. What flavor of milkshake?”

Jimmy can’t remember any ice cream flavor ever, suddenly. He checks the menu, picks the first thing he sees. “Vanilla?”

“Sure! I’ll match.”

As casually as he can manage, Jimmy slips an ice cube out of his glass, cradles it in the palm of his hand. It’s supposed to ground him, remind his body that he’s in the present. The hand in his hair stubbornly remains.

He holds onto the ice cube until it melts, dribbling water in a small pool on the table. It doesn’t do anything but make his hand burn with the cold.

He blinks rapidly, twitches his head several times to try and shake the hand away. His trained instincts are starting to settle in, his body going still. If he moves his head, he might get slapped.

“Everything okay?”

Jimmy smiles easily, brightly, in Scott’s direction. His boyfriend is giving him a concerned look, hand out for Jimmy to take. Jimmy takes it.

“I’m fine, babe. Just got a little lost in thought!”

The acting skills from that one role as Cod Number 3 in Empires South Middle School’s production of The Little Mermaid Jr are really paying off.

Scott’s face eases, just as he looks up to see the waiter approaching them. Jimmy orders with no issue, watches the very pretty way Scott’s eyes scrunch up as he pretends to examine the menu one last time before ordering.

That doesn’t get the hand out of his hair, though. Maybe he should buzz it. Shave his head. Nothing for phantom hands to touch.

The hand trails down to rub his shoulders and Jimmy knows that wouldn’t solve the problem.

The food arrives and Jimmy releases Scott’s hand to watch him for cues, not trusting his unstable mind to do things in the right order. Scott unwraps his silverware so Jimmy does so as well; Scott places his napkin on his lap and Jimmy follows suit.

Scott seems to enjoy his food, and Jimmy understands that his tastes good as well but it’s hard to process. Everything is hard to process. It’s too bright in here, too loud. A family with three shouting kids passes by and Jimmy can’t help but flinch away, a movement that he tries to suavely change into wrapping his arm around Scott’s shoulders.

Scott scoffs at him, wriggles out from under and gives him a quick peck on the lips. “How’s your food?”

“Good,” Jimmy responds automatically, taking another bite. The hand pulls hard enough on his hair that his head jerks back and he freezes, biting his lip. He’s not going to cry here. He just wants to enjoy a nice meal with his boyfriend. Why can’t he just have a good time?

“Scott, love?” Jimmy manages, the slightest tremble making its way into his voice. He gathers his courage before he’s too anxious to ask. “Could—could you touch my hair?”

Scott goes still. After a moment, he slowly turns to give him a concerned look. “Jimmy, your hair is off-limits. We set that boundary in place ages ago.”

Great, now Scott probably thinks something ridiculous, like he misses the feeling of horrible hands touching his hair. He doesn’t, he doesn’t at all—in fact, he’s so nervous about Scott touching him that he can feel himself begin to shake. He just needs a little push.

“I just—I—” he takes a calming breath, places his clenched hands on the table, “there’s—there’s a hand. In my hair. And I—I want a real one. So I can tell the difference.”

Scott’s eyes flick up, and Jimmy watches as his face morphs from confusion to understanding, then sorrow. “Oh, Jimmy. I’m sorry that’s happening.”

“Yeah, me too,” Jimmy grits out as the ghost hand yanks again. “The ice trick didn’t work, eating didn’t help, it started almost as soon as we got here and it just won’t go—”

“Shh, it’s okay, it’s okay,” Scott says, glancing around as Jimmy pulls at his face. He’s fine, he’s not freaking out. It’s just a flashback, just a stupid flashback, and he’s fine. He’s not—he’s not—

“We can get to-go boxes, eat later,” Scott offers, already looking to wave down a waiter. “Really, it’s fine—”

“No, I want—” he wants to have a good time with Scott, he wants to eat, he wants Xornoth to stop touching him— “I want to be here, can you—can we at least try?” he begs, peeking at Scott through his fingers. “Can you try touching my hair?”

Scott glances around again, frowning. “Jimmy, I—” he sighs, bites his lip— “Jimmy, we set up months ago that if you’re clearly distressed and want me to touch your hair, I’m supposed to say no. And baby, you’re crying.”

And now he’s crying. Great. He grinds the heels of his hands into his eyes, takes in a shuddering breath. “I didn’t want—I wanted it to be good—”

He can hear the panic in Scott’s voice when he speaks. “Jimmy, do you know where you are right now?”

“The diner, with you, and so many people watching—” he cuts himself off, buries his face in his arms. There’s so many people here, all staring at him as he has a breakdown over a stupid flashback that he knows isn’t actually happening but just can’t shake.

“I’ll get some to-go boxes, okay? We’ll go home—”

“But I want to stay,” Jimmy insists, and he just knows he sounds like a petulant child. “I want to eat out with you, I want you to not have to worry about me freaking out over nothing! I love you so much, I just wanted today to be normal. . . .”

Scott’s silent for a while as Jimmy sniffles into his sleeves. At some point a waiter approaches, asks Scott lowly if everything’s all right.

“We’re fine . . . no, he’s got PTSD . . . thank you for your service too. . . .”

Scott waits until the waiter leaves, lays his head down on the table beside Jimmy. “Hey,” he says quietly. Jimmy blinks at him through the tears.

“I won’t be upset if we have to leave. I just want you to be safe and happy. You’re not a burden to me—I want to spend time with you, and it doesn’t matter where.”

Jimmy closes his eyes briefly as the phantom hand falls again to his back, rubbing lightly. “Can—can you rub my back?” he asks, voice small.

Scott immediately complies, and the feeling of something real—someone real—touching him where the hand was makes the phantom sensation drift away, off into the air like it had never happened. He relaxes into Scott’s arm as his breathing begins to even out, tension seeping out of him.

“Told you,” he grumbles, pressing his head into Scott’s chest. Scott being there, his head up against Scott’s firm and real body, makes all the difference. “‘S gone now. Just needed you.”

Scott’s hand, still rubbing his back, pauses. “I—oh,” he says softly, resuming the backrub. “I’m really . . . I’m really happy you trust me in that way. I’m really happy I can help you.”

“Sorry for making a scene.”

“You don’t need to apologize for a thing, love. Flashbacks are nothing to be embarrassed about.”

Jimmy’s embarrassed anyway, certain that there are still eyes on him. He sighs, rubs his eyes before reaching for his plate. “Can we still stay? I want to.”

Scott gives him a once over, frowns. “Okay, but on one condition: if another flashback starts at any time, we’re leaving. All right?”

It’s the right choice to make, and Jimmy nods his agreement.

He’s still not used to luck being in his favor, but he doesn’t have another flashback, and he finds he can push through the exhaustion and enjoy dinner with his boyfriend.

There may be flashbacks, and panic attacks, but really? Everything . . . everything’s okay. For the moment, he’s happy, and he knows that a flashback is a minor setback.

He leans against Scott’s shoulder, sucking on his milkshake, and lets out a contented sigh. Everything’s okay.

[tumbleweedtech]

WIP Game: Family don't end with blood 👀❤

oh dear. The one, the one of these that's dearest to my heart. Okay. Well, we're given so little about Soap. He has a cousin. That's it. So that cousin is now mine, I named him Robbie, he's adorable.

Well, mine, in that I coparent this entire mess of a soldier with @piranhaincaps who is absolutely responsible for at least half of all the headcanons surrounding him. And of course, in order to write Soap's cousin we had to roll it allll the way back to pre-enlistment Soap. So we looked at dates, ages, likely ages of peers and acknowledging that the 141 are likely more exceptional/promoted a bit earlier/faster than most. So we're in 2007? But I suspect most people would click for Johnny, not so much my OC, so. Little bit of baby Soap below the cut:

Note: Johnny is a foster kid who stumbled into finding a family who cares for him. This snip is the very beginning of that trust. Johnny's safe, but there's big feelings involved so he's gonna cry a little about it.

Unfortunately, while the piles of tinned meals was useful for a fast meal it meant that the garbage was piled quite high. Robbie had neglected to tell him the pickup day and Johnny had been awoken by the rumbling crash of the truck driving away. Well, fuck. Johnny stood on the pavement watching the truck slowly trundle down the road. “They come earlier every week.” A short woman with long, severely braided brown hair came to stand beside him, hands on her hips. He couldn’t help startling at her sudden appearance, looking down at her carefully assessing eyes. They were a deep blue, brow furrowed as she turned her attention from the departing truck to him. “Ye’ll be Robbie’s kin, then?” Johnny just nodded, swallowing heavily. She nodded, and waved at her bins. “Bring those up. I’ll put the kettle on.” She was tactile, and it burned every time she put a gentle hand on his, or patted his shoulder and she puttered around the small kitchen. He found himself with a cup of tea, the tin of ginger cookies left uncovered for his perusal as she chattered about her trip. It was hard to follow the names of people he’d never met, but she didn’t seem bothered. She slid a plate in front of him, “Have a piece, lad. Then tell me how you actually met my Bobby.” She didn’t ask for details he didn’t provide, she simply slid a few more cookies onto his empty plate. It was easier to talk when you weren’t watched, and she seemed to know that. He told her about sneaking onto the base, about getting caught. He told her about Robbie moving the car even though he had the keys. She laughed for a solid minute at that, patting him on the shoulder. It was, looking back, rather funny. “He wouldnae left ye, ye ken?” The impulse was there to agree, the placating nod and smile that settles adults into believing you were polite and good and malleable. Robbie picked him up now two weeks ago, and left him in his flat with more cash than Johnny had ever seen at once in his flat. Thankfully she didn’t seem to need an answer, just gave him a gentle tug on the shoulder. Johnny melted into her hug, wrapping his arms around her waist and hiding his face in the enormous sweater she wore. Her nails were gentle in how they scratched through his long hair as she wrapped her arms around his head, cradling him gently. It was dark and soft and warm, and he fought back the tears by wrapping his fingers in the soft, open pattern of the sweater. It worked, until she laid her cheek on the top of his head, quietly shushing him. He hadn’t told her about his grandfather. He hadn’t told her about the shuffle of houses, of his belongings in bags. He hadn’t said anything about waking up alone in the damp morning dew. How beautiful and horribly lonely it was, alone in the mist until the sun burned away the false isolation only to remind him that loneliness was real. It didn’t seem to matter, to her. She tangled her fingers through his hair, and let him cry himself hoarse.

[aliceinwundeerland]

I dare you to share your likes for a few minutes

I really like - well LOVE coffee, but i really like —>> sports cars, Mt. Dew ( esp code red ) , redbull, mac and cheese, vans, roses, mums, lilacs, perfume, shein, rollerblading, singing, things that sparkle, kind people, saying “drive safe” , pinky promises, cancelled plans, rainy nights to sleep to, cold pillows, soft towels

[emabatis]

About a Werewolf in the Wawa Parking Lot

This was the second option on this poll I did. People seemed to like it, so here's the whole short story, in all it's exactly 1,000 words:

It’s not full. It’s never full.

That’s the good thing about going out when everyone else is at work or asleep. Just about the only good thing, truth told. Everybody’s hurting for workers until I send something in. I get on fine, the lord never lets my belly get too empty, and he doesn't let my head get too empty, either, or by the time the month is over, I’d have spent a fortune on milkshakes of varying quality. Sometimes they don’t even have milkshakes, and I need to settle for a “cream smoothie," which they say is healthier but if you ask me it’s just the same price for more ice. Not disgusting, but when I’m already shaky, the last thing I need is less sugar.

It’s a warm night for the month, a bit cloudy. Old, baggy jacket weather. I’m preferring old, baggy clothes these days. I’m sipping in the parking lot, letting the condensation soothe my orange palms. It’s strawberry cheesecake. Not my favorite flavor, but, you know, if you just order your favorite every time, it loses its magic. I still like strawberry cheesecake fine. It’s my niece’s favorite. It’s also one of the flavors I can drink regularly without spewing. That’s been a problem lately, throwing up. Some weeks are worse than others. I get by. This week’s been pretty great, actually.

It’ll be an hour or two before Hank gets here - he works until late in the evening. He doesn’t know I’m here, but - lord willing and the creek don’t rise - he’ll stop here like he usually does after work and he can drive me home.

Or maybe I’ll end up forgetful in the morning, covered in dew in the cornfield next door - there’s always a corn field next door, but I’m specifically talking about the one I’m looking at. There’s deer in that corn field. It’s safe, warm, and full of food. All enclosed. Denser than the woods, too dense for any predators, not that they have to worry about those. All the wolves in the area got put down before most anyone can remember, outside of the nursing home or family attic. That doesn't include me just yet.

A pair of eyes are glowing from behind the stalks, as still and bright as the sign they reflect back at me. Wawa, the deer’s eyes promise. It’s a doe, just out of her white spots. There had to be a gas station somewhere in the however-huge stretch between the two closest ones, and it might as well be a Wawa on this corner, between the old schoolhouse for sale and a corn field full of deer.

My stomach is gnawing at itself. Again? I’m thinking about how awkward it would be to go back into the store I just finished up in, especially since I can’t remember if I had the presence of mind to not say “you too” when they told me to enjoy my shake. I didn’t have the presence of mind to notice it was gone, and here I am, sucking on air like a fool. I’ll throw the cup away. Probably eat it next, if I don’t.

The sunset is pretty, tonight. Just the right amount of clouds and at just the right texture to make colors pop. I saw the moon earlier, it was huge. I could read by that moon alone, it’s the biggest and brightest I’ve seen in a long while. That might’ve been yesterday, actually.

The streetlights are on, now. 

Something’s wrong with my body, I think. Not enough elbows. The air’s a lot hotter than it was a minute ago. Like I just got a pint of blood poured in me, and it’s got nowhere to go but it’s going fast. I can feel it thrumming to my fingers and toes. The deer is still staring, frozen in place.

A surge of vomit wants to crawl up my throat, and it scratches as I swallow it down. It doesn’t taste like strawberry cheesecake. I don’t want to know what it tastes like. My stomach hurts, that kind of hurt that doesn’t leave room for words like “squeezing” or “throbbing.” Just pain. I’m praying oh lord help me, and it helps, a bit.

Taking deep breaths is important for pain. Mostly because breathing is important for survival, and pain makes people forget everything they learned about how to survive. It feels like every exhale releases that pain into the world, where it can scatter and grow into something nicer.

It doesn’t last. I’m almost knocked over by another wave. This time it’s in my chest. Not so easy to breathe through it. I must’ve been screaming, because my jaw is sore. No one inside has come out to see what’s what, those inconsiderate kids.

It passes quick, but I get the feeling it’s gonna come back quick, and with a vengeance. I’ve gotta move. The light, the sound of the neon, the smell, it’s all too much. I’m gritting my teeth so hard I swear I can hear them bend. I can’t feel my legs, wouldn’t know what to do with them if I could. 

A tooth is falling out of my mouth. Another one now. And another. The pain takes me after I taste my own blood, and it spreads from my mouth to the tips of my toes. Everywhere, it’s noisy, it’s bright, it smells like my own body.

When did I end up on the ground? A while ago, I reckon. I see something in the sky, just behind the Wawa sign.

There’s a sickening pop somewhere inside of me, I’m spasming, howling, and eventually the pain is so big, so much bigger than the body that needs to hold it, that a sort of instinctual clarity opens my eyes. Yes. This is what’s supposed to happen. The deer finally runs away. That won’t do. It has to stay full.I take a deep breath, and push, push, push into the field.

[endlessraine]

copia trying to teach the ghouls how to drive because that’s something that’s been rotting my brain for a bit now but i don’t have the creative juices flowing rn to write it out myself :,)

who would actually be good at driving? who should absolutely not get behind the wheel ever again? any ghoul who road rages? (cough dew and i feel like cirrus maybe too cough) backseat drivers? idk i just feel like maybe it’s a simple yet kinda interesting idea to think about?

OOOO I LOVE THIS.

I didn't put all the ghouls in this but I definitely think Mountian, Aether, and Rain are the most trusted driving.

Dew and Sunshine get road rage

Cirrus already knew how to drive for whatever reason but is the back seat driver.

Swiss and Dewdrop aren't aloud to drive

Cumulus is just an average driver

ANYWAYS HERS IS THE LITTLE FIC

“Dew- DEW HIT THE BREAKS” Copia shouted gripping the car seat for dear life, Copia has been going in turns for a week or so teaching the ghouls how to drive, this was Dewdrop's first- and last time in the car. 

Cirrus was sat in the back set commenting on everything, somehow saying more than Copia despite him being the teacher, but she was the only one who knew drive already so the frontman was stuck with it.

“It was fine old man.” Dewdrop growled,  maybe teaching him to drive in the first place was a bad idea, considering even when he isn’t driving he screams at people out the window.

“Ok, out of the car go grab Rain” Copia sighed, making Dew huff and get out of the car, slamming the door on the way out.

Rain appeared a few minuets later, offering a small wave before taking a seat and buckling up.

“Ok, do you rember what you learned a few days ago?” Copia asked and Rain nodded

“Gas, breaks, turn signal and the stick to put the car in park, drive and reverse” Rain said pointing at the respective peddles and switches ans such

“Ok ok thats good, do a lap around and we’ll see how you do” Copias said, mentally preparing himself, sending a prayer to satan just to be safe.

Rain put the car into drive and pushed dow the gas pedal and they were on their way. Everything was going just fine, Rain was checking his mirrors, being careful when turning, but there was one thing. Cirrus. She kept telling him when to turn, and Rain looked like he was ready to blow a fuse.

“Turn here-” Cirrus had started to say, but was cut off by Rain abruptly stopping the car.

“I KNOW WHERE TO FUCKING TURN.” Rain shouted, an awkward Silence taking over the car immediately after, Rain put the car back in drive and finished the lap.

Rain put the car in park and looked at Copia to get feed back.

“That was good, you didn’t almost crash like Dew so thats a plus, we’ll work on reversing next time” Copia said, shooting Rain a smile, which the water ghoul returned.

“Also sorry for yelling at you Cirrius” Rain said turning around to the back seat to give her an apologetic smile.

“It’s ok Rain I get it” The ghoulette responded, grinning.

Rain unbuckled and started to make his way out of the car

“Ok Cirrius, who’s next on that list of yours?” Copia questioned, planning on sending Rain to grab them.

“Swiss.” Cirrus said, Copia let out a long deep sigh.

“You know what I think were done for the day.”. Copia said getting out of the car.

He swears he loves them but these ghouls are gonna be the death of him.

[carrsuniverse]

The Picnic

Rose x Aure(M715)

WC: 1133

-

Aure waited patiently by Rose’s car, holding the picnic basket on her arm. Her long pink hair is loose, reaching down to the small of her back. She shivers when a gust of wind blows over her bare arms, cursing herself for wearing a sundress in autumn. 

The parking lot it dimly lit by old lights, and she hugs herself while she waits for the sun to rise. She knows that if she just went inside, Rose would let her wait in the warm gas station, but that would ruin her surprise. So she hides from the wind behind Rose’s old beater, watching the time on her phone and counting down the minutes to six. 

She startles when a car door slams next to her. Rose’s coworker, Dallas, looked at Aure curiously, her head tilted to one side. “Why are you out here in the cold?” 

“I’m waiting on Rose, please don’t tell them I’m out here,” Aure begs. She clasps her hands together in front of her and makes doe eyes at Dallas. 

The other girl just laughs and shakes her head. “Your secret is safe with me. I’ll make sure to get them out quickly.” She hoists her backpack up onto her shoulder and nods at the picnic basket. “Isn’t it a little cold for a picnic?” 

“It’s supposed to warm up!” Aure insists. 

“I thought it was supposed to-” Dallas cuts herself off, a shit-eating grin spreading across her face. “Nevermind. You’re right, it’ll probably warm up. I’ll go send out Rose.” 

“Wait, what are you talking about? Dallas?” 

“Enjoy your date, Aure!” 

Aure frowns, tugging her phone out of her purse and going to her weather app. She’s met with a buffering icon as she tries to refresh the page, swearing when she realizes she doesn’t have a signal behind the gas station. She lifts the phone into the air, finally finding a signal, just waiting for the screen to load when- 

“Aure?” 

She shoves her phone back into her purse without looking at the screen. Rose walks up to her, a bright, beaming smile on their face. “I wanted to surprise you!” Aure holds up the basket in her arms. “I know you have the next couple of days off and I wanted to spend them with you.” 

Pink spreads across Rose’s cheeks and they giggle. “You planned a picnic?” 

“You deserve something sweet to start off your weekend.” Aure loops her arm with Rose’s and guides them to their car. “Do you mind if I drive?” 

“Not at all!” Rose digs the keys out of their pocket and hands them over to Aure. “I’ll keep the food safe.” They smile up at her and hug the basket to their chest. 

“Perfect.” Aure kisses the top of their head. Warmth spreads through her chest when they lean into her, looking up at her with nothing short of absolute adoration. “You’re so beautiful. The most beautiful rose in the garden.” 

“Stop it.” Rose’s blush deepens and they shove Aure away. “Let’s just go.” 

The two drive slowly through town in the early morning; most people aren’t even awake yet, leaving the small town eerily silent. They intertwine their fingers while they drive, resting their locked hands on the center console. 

It doesn’t take long to get to the park, since there’s no other cars on the road to slow them down. The rising sun catches on the morning dew still clinging to the blades of grass. 

Aure rushes around the car to open the passenger side door and take the picnic basket from Rose. “Let me help.” She holds her hand out to them. Once they’re out, she holds her arm out for them to hook their’s through. “There’s a little pond not far from here, if you’re down for the walk. I know you’re probably tired from work.” 

“That sounds great!” Rose beams. “I’m happy to walk there with you.” They rest their head on her shoulder while they walk along the well-kept path. 

The two walk in comfortable silence, leaning against each other as they do. 

“I brought a blanket, give me a second.” Aure rolls out the picnic blanket, setting out the food while Rose gets comfortable. She hands Rose a warm thermos of hot chocolate and cuddles close to their side. “Good?” 

“Perfect.” Rose sighs softly. They relax against Aure, passing the thermos back and forth. “I know there’s food, but I’m too comfortable to move and get it.” 

Aure laughs softly, running her fingers through Rose’s hair and gently scratching her scalp. “I know what you mean.” She stretches out, doing her best not to jostle Rose, so she can grab their breakfast sandwhiches while they’re still warm.

Rose takes the bagel from their girlfriend, holding the warm sandwich to their chest. “You take such good care of me.” They crane their head back so they can look Aure in the face. Aure leans into their touch when they guide her down for a kiss so sweet it makes her teeth ache. 

The kiss is broken by a sudden rumble of thunder. Before Aure can ask if Rose heard it too, the sky opens up and rain starts pelting down on them. Rose makes a surprised noise, their laugh echoing through the empty park. 

“Come here!” Aure grabs Rose’s arm and drags them under a nearby tree. She pulls them close and huddles under the branches. “You’re shivering.” 

“This was all part of your wicked plan to get me cuddled up close to you, wasn’t it?” Rose grins up at Aure, pressing their bodies together. 

Aure shakes her head. “You’re incorrigible.” 

“You love me.” 

“Yeah, I do.” Aure kisses them again, holding their face in her hands. “Wait under the tree while I clean everything up.” 

Rose laughs, following Aure out into the rain. “I’m not going to melt in the rain. I can help.” 

They both haphazardly toss the food into the basket and run for the car. Aure catches Rose before they can get into the passenger seat and guides them to the backseat. “I have an idea.” She climbs into the back seat on the other side, sitting across from Rose. “We can have a picnic in the car.” 

She digs into the basket, only to find all their food soaking wet. Her shoulders drop and she sighs. “Nevermind. The food is ruined.” 

Rose takes the basket, digging around until they find a single dry sandwich. “Here.” They rip it in half, holding one half out to Aure. “We can share.” 

Aure feels her chest tighten. She stares at Rose for a moment before taking the sandwich. “I love you so much, Rose.” 

“Of course you do. Who wouldn’t?” They lean against Aure’s side to eat their half of the sandwich. 

[taylorappalachia]

High summer: the heat rose like a blister, the humidity landed dew across the fields as the sun set, twilight casting orange and yellow across green grass, hot pink skies. A lot of people don't like the humidity, whether they're from here or not. "It's not the heat, it's the humidity" they're known to say. I like it. Cut loose, nowhere to be, nowhere in particular to go, a few miles over the speed limit until a van, which I am behind, is thumping behind someone on a moped going 20 in a 45. They curve around him, risking a collision, trusting another car isn't curving the road across yet out of sight. It is me now who is just behind him, waiting for a curve to end so I might see around safely enough to pass. I am not impatient, I am enjoying my song. A pass is never granted. I turn my windows down, for once. I never do this. Air conditioner princess, I suppose. My hair, yes actually, it's my hair, is too long and blows in my eyes. But the windows are down, today. I turn the a/c off. The temperature is cooling now from the high 90s, touches my skin which the sun has turned brown this summer. We are now driving 15 in a 45. I didn't mean to but I accidentally rode his ass because I couldn't slow down consistently enough. He turns into the trailer park to the left just after the cornfield. I remember what my sister once said about imagining a trailer park as a wonderful place to live especially if all of your friends live there too. I stretch out my hand to catch the air, to wave it up and down like a dolphin in flight, to feel something usually so still now push against me. It feels like I'm wearing a baseball glove, it feels like my hand is full of clouds. Most of us know this feeling. A club of motorcycles are in sight, quickly approaching. My hand is still outstretched. The first one, closest to the yellow line--they drove two per lane, side by side--also reaches his hand out to mine. They don't physically touch but in spirit, the moment was all about touch.

[spoiledleaff]

@x-aki-tsuki-x hello again! :D it's just me, haha! the comment character limit drives me crazy as well, so i hope it's alright that i chose to just respond to you in an extra post! :) i just know that i'd be sending you way too many little responses in your comment section, haha! so, i hope you don't mind, but i ended up making a separate post! :D

oh! yeah, i can certainly see where the concern would be, especially considering that i see much the same thing, haha! i'm a little biased, though, as i am a smut writer, hehe. although, i think i mentioned this before when touching on your fetishization concerns in the tags? but, porn/smut is actually super popular on ao3, as well! i mean, in just the ghost fandom tag alone, the explicit fics alone are over double the amounts of mature fics! let alone any of the other ratings! of course, not all of these works are porn! some are merely heavy topics safely tagged, but a good portion is still... well, uh, spicy stuff! haha! again, i definitely can't speak for all trans smut writers, but for me at least, i write trans smut as a means to project and cope. :) i mentioned this earlier, but some of the reasons why i love writing and reading porn that focuses on trans characters is mostly for the interactions and relationships between trans characters and their respective partners! it's just kind of comforting to know that there are people, even if they are fictional, that can love and accept trans bodies for how they are :) it's comforting! and, i mean, hey, it's kinda fun too, haha!

absolutely! i mean, to me, that's the whole fun about fanfiction! :D especially with such a vague universe like ghost! i personally love writing the ghouls as a genderfluid species in general! so, honestly, it just depends on how they're feeling! or, in this case of content creation, what kind of body type or identity or dynamics i may be itching to write about or draw! personally, it's not just dew or copia! i love writing and drawing nonbinary zephyr, trans mountain, intersex mist, and even trans sunshine and genderqueer cirrus! :D i mean, that's the whole fun behind this sort of thing! and, hey, if you prefer to think of dewdrop as a cis man with a cock? that's totally fine! :D i certainly don't mind if an author or artists depicts him as either or, or even as intersex! there's always some fun for some gender-fuckery, haha! mhm, respectfully, i don't quite agree with you on the trans community in the ghost fandom demanding that he's only ever trans. but, perhaps i'm a little biased and i just don't see it :0 although, unrelated perhaps, but i do believe it's important, especially in terms of published fanfiction, for respective pronouns and anatomical terminology to be acknowledged and addressed before reading :) i know that trans porn isn't necessarily everyone's cup of tea, so i always try to acknowledge these sorts of things in summaries or author's notes :0 i don't think this sort of preference is transphobia? i think this is really just... well, having a preference! i think a lot of people tend to gravitate towards content that can relate to and vibe with! i know that i'm certainly not writing content for cishet people, so, to be honest, i don't expect a lot of cishet people to be included in my audience :) nothing against them! that's just not who my content is for, and i understand that :)

i agree :) maybe this is the people-pleaser side of me? haha! but i don't think there should be any arguing about a character's gender identity, haha! i mean, to me that's just such a silly thing to argue over! i mean, if you vibe and relate better to cisgendered ghouls? that's totally fine! i'll just be over here transgendering all the ghouls eight ways 'till sunday, haha! our preferences don't quite match? but that's okay! :) doesn't mean we can't be civil about our preferences, you know? :) oh! i also saw one of your comments bringing up the subject of why it's always copia or dew being represented as trans characters? i don't have, like, a definite answer for you! but, i think that one of the main-ish reasons is that both characters already seem to have pretty prominent identity crises? whether it be canon or fanon, i think those sort of conflicts really resonate with a lot of people! trans people especially, hehe :) but! trust me my friend, when i say i'm working on trans-ing the genders of everyone? ohoho, i'm working on it! >:)

oh, that's amazing, haha! my regards to your friend! :D he sounds like a riot, haha! i actually just wanted to take some time to address a couple of your previous comments on dew's mannerisms towards the crowd? as well as the connection of genitalia towards identity! :) i know a good amount of women, both cis and trans women, haha! who use that sort of wanking off gesture! whether it's a joke or an insult, it seems to be a favorite among some people i know, haha! additionally, there are plenty of ways for modern society to help people feel more comfortable with their bodies! there's ways to pack to help achieve a desired look and feeling! golly, there's so many options for packing or even for tucking, wow! so, again respectfully, i do have to disagree on that point! :) oh! another kinda personal thing, haha! i personally don't experience bottom dysphoria! :D or, at least, not enough to look into getting bottom surgery :) for now, at least, i'm totally content with living the rest of my life with only having completed top surgery, and still living my life with a vagina/traditionally female reproductive system :) however! i know that there are plenty of people who are very much interested in bottom surgery as part of their transition goals! but, damn, my friend!! that shit's expensive, haha!! :'D so, again, i do have to respectfully disagree with you on those fronts :) gender identity is so expansive and inclusive nowadays! :D it's amazing, haha! people can feel more comfortable with who they are, and there's so many different options for people to feel more comfortable in their bodies! :D when i was younger, i know that reading generalized trans fanfiction where men were still dealing with periods, or maybe just take a moment to have a bit of confidence in how their tits looks in that one shirt? haha! those sorts of fics really helped me out in some darker times, as silly as that might sound! but, again, i understand that that sort of subject matter isn't exactly relatable for everyone. ahh, i'm rambling again, haha! my point is that, personally, i plan to live my life as a man with a vagina! but, i don't think that makes me any less of a man :) just as trans women who can't afford to or simply don't wish to have bottom surgery are still beautiful and amazing women in their own right! :D everyone's ideal transition is different :) again, i'm kinda bringing back the reality vs fiction idea! we have a lot to thank the actors for who help bring the inspiration for the ghost fandom to light! but, as with all headcanons, who's to say really, haha! everyone can be cis until proven otherwise, or, in my case! everyone is trans until proven otherwise, haha! i think this case would be very much different if there was fanfiction about per or tobias or any other members of the cast being portrayed as trans or something similar along those lines? now, to me, that kind of 'inclusivity' or 'representation' or whatever you wish to call it is a bit icky... but, you are very right in that there isn't very much representation in a lot of forms of media :') but, that's why fanfiction exists, haha! we make our own representation where we find comfort and a sense of inclusivity in it :D

oh, no worries! :D i know the character count on those tumblr replies are ridiculous, haha! and, well, i had a bit of a feeling i'd be sending another essay, ahhhh... :'D haha! again, i hope this doesn't read like i'm attacking you or anything like that? i mean, you have your preferences and i have mine! they just happen to not quite match up :) and that's okay! as i've started before, everyone's different :D whether it's our gender identities, the kind of fanfiction we want to read or the kinds of characters we want to see portrayed! everyone has their different tastes :) again, i apologize for the massive essays i keep sending your way, haha! but, also again, i do hope this may provide a bit of insight on this subject :) although, this is also just the opinion of one little trans smut writer, haha! i highly recommend giving a listen to other genderqueer authors or content creators who may have their own sides to the story, so to speak, haha! i'm definitely a bit more... lenient? i think? with my own gender identity? as well as things like anatomical terminology! so, for instance, i use terminology like 'breasts', 'clitoris', 'vagina' (albeit, in much more... uhh, smuttier terms, haha!) when describing smut scenes? but, i also use terms like 'cock' or 'dick' when transmasc characters are referring to themselves. again! everyone's super different, and this is just how i write and communicate the gender identities of my personal trans characters :) but, again, and i can't stress this enough! everyone's journeys with their gender identity is so different! and i'm just one little lad in a garden of trans/genderqueer fanfic writers! :D

[charlesmwa]

What’s the Best Way to Set Up Your DJ Gear for Outdoor Events?

There’s nothing quite like an outdoor event to bring people together—whether it’s a backyard party, a wedding reception under the stars, or a music festival. As a DJ, you’re the life of the event, and your setup plays a massive role in creating an unforgettable vibe. Setting up DJ gear for outdoor events comes with its own set of challenges, but with the right preparation, you can ensure your music sounds incredible and your equipment stays safe, no matter the elements.

Let’s break it down step by step so that you can confidently set up your DJ gear for any outdoor occasion.

1. Search the Venue

Before you even touch your equipment, familiarize yourself with the location. Outdoor venues can vary widely—from spacious fields to intimate patios—and each will affect how you position your gear.

Check for Power Sources: Many outdoor venues lack easy access to electricity. Determine where the power outlets are or, if needed, arrange for a generator.

Evaluate the Ground: Ensure the surface is stable and level enough to hold your equipment. Uneven ground can cause tables or speakers to wobble, and soft ground like grass may require additional support for heavier items.

Plan for Weather: Even if the forecast looks clear, prepare for rain or strong winds. A pop-up canopy or tent is essential to shield your gear from unexpected weather changes.

2. Invest in Proper Power Management

Outdoor setups require careful planning when it comes to power. DJs often use a mix of devices, from mixers and controllers to speakers and lighting, which can quickly overwhelm an inadequate power supply.

Use Surge Protectors: Outdoor power sources can be unpredictable, and surge protectors help safeguard your equipment from electrical damage.

Bring Extension Cords and Power Strips: Longer cables allow you to position your gear exactly where you want it without being limited by the location of outlets.

Check Voltage Requirements: Make sure your power setup can handle the load of your gear without tripping circuits.

If you’re uncertain about power needs, consult a professional audio shop for advice on reliable and safe equipment options.

3. Optimize Speaker Placement

Sound behaves differently outdoors than it does indoors. Without walls to contain the sound, you need to be strategic about speaker placement to ensure your music carries across the venue.

Face Speakers Toward the Crowd: Position your speakers to cover the audience area evenly. Avoid aiming them directly at walls, as this can cause sound to scatter.

Raise Your Speakers: Elevating your speakers on stands ensures the sound travels farther and reduces the chance of it being muffled by obstacles like tables or people.

Monitor Sound Levels: Walk around during the soundcheck to ensure the volume is consistent across the venue and not too overwhelming for guests near the speakers.

4. Protect Your Gear from the Elements

Outdoor events expose your DJ gear to environmental factors like heat, moisture, and dust. Protecting your equipment should always be a top priority.

Use Weatherproof Covers: Even under a tent, dew or a sudden sprinkle can damage your gear. Invest in protective covers or cases designed for outdoor use.

Secure Cables and Gear: Strong winds can knock over lightweight equipment or tangle loose cables. Tape down all cords and secure your gear with sandbags if necessary.

Avoid Direct Sunlight: Prolonged exposure to the sun can cause overheating. Set up your equipment in a shaded area or use a canopy to block the sun.

5. Test Your Setup Ahead of Time

There’s nothing more stressful than troubleshooting issues in the middle of an event. To avoid surprises, always do a trial run before the big day.

Run a Soundcheck: Check all your connections, levels, and settings to ensure everything is working perfectly.

Test Backup Systems: Bring spare cables, batteries, and even a backup music source like a preloaded USB drive or smartphone. If something fails, you’ll have a backup plan ready to go.

Check Lighting: If your event extends into the evening, test any lighting setups as well. Make sure they complement your performance and don’t distract from the main attraction—the music.

6. Engage the Crowd with the Right Music

Outdoor events often have more distractions than indoor venues, so it’s essential to keep the crowd engaged with a mix of music that suits the atmosphere.

Read the Room (or Field): Gauge the crowd’s energy and adapt your playlist to match the vibe.

Mix Seamlessly: Smooth transitions keep the energy flowing and avoid awkward silences.

Balance Genres: Outdoor events often attract diverse audiences, so include a mix of tracks to keep everyone entertained.

7. Keep It Simple and Flexible

While it might be tempting to bring all your gear, simplicity is key for outdoor events. The fewer pieces you need to manage, the smoother your setup and teardown will be.

Stick to Essentials: Prioritize high-quality speakers, a reliable mixer, and your music source. Avoid cluttering your space with unnecessary extras.

Plan for Adjustments: Outdoor conditions can change quickly. Be prepared to adapt your setup if the weather shifts or the crowd size changes.

8. Wrap It All Up Safely

After the event, don’t rush to pack up your gear without proper care. Outdoor conditions can leave dirt, moisture, or wear on your equipment, so cleaning and storing it correctly is crucial.

Wipe Everything Down: Remove any dirt or moisture from your gear before packing it away.

Store Cables Neatly: Untangle and organize your cables to avoid damage during storage.

Inspect Your Equipment: Check for any signs of wear or damage and address issues promptly to ensure your gear is ready for the next event.

Why Quality Gear Matters

When it comes to outdoor events, the right equipment makes all the difference. Investing in professional-grade audio gear ensures your performance is flawless and your setup can handle outdoor challenges like unpredictable weather and uneven terrain. Purchasing from reputable audio shops like VIP PRO AUDIO guarantees you’re getting reliable equipment that won’t let you down when it matters most.  

Setting up DJ gear for outdoor events might seem daunting at first, but with proper planning and preparation, it becomes a breeze. By scouting the venue, optimizing your setup, and protecting your gear, you can focus on what you do best—delivering an amazing experience for your audience.

Remember, every outdoor event is an opportunity to showcase your skills, so make the most of it by being prepared, staying flexible, and, most importantly, having fun. Whether it’s a small garden party or a massive festival, the right setup can turn any outdoor space into the ultimate dance floor.

[arizona-aphrodite]

i need to be alone and afraid. i need to be here but not there. i need to be righteous and believe in god. so i go to heaven, ive been thinking these days. we loved our life and eachother. we had pain that just consumed. i have pride and pefect and things to do. but no the life i wish i could know. put the pieces together and figure out your fate. enjoy yourself and all your fame. the power the lightning the things inside us all. the things that are beautiful in time, the things that you planned the vision of perfect the vision of you. the time ticks and i feel sick. i feel like everybody hates me and i can't consume. alone at a table with people. i have things i wish i had. i have love and desire in my brain. my piece my rage my feelings of pain. like a rose with dew, prickers and few, imagine like me like a flower. if iwas a flower, id want to be an orchid, witnessing life but still beautiful. i could smell good and be good, sitting there forever until i wilt away. i wish i was a flower. if i could be an animal id be a cheeta, just because i always run from everything i know. peace and love, diversity and fun, we always tried to make and things are not able.

maybe being alone isn't that bad. love and peave alone. more people have performed. rapture and heaven, nirvana and eden. give me an apple give me your problems and i'll make it into an orchid like me.

i wish i could tell you. that even though this is ending. you might have not done the right things, but the way you dream is beautiful.

people are so funny, people are so lovely. youre creative and make tiktok amazing with the things you create. i just wanted to say, that that pain you have everyday made you beautiful. people should be praying. the end of daises. flowers with rebirth me and drive me crazy. stay positive meet your fate or destiny, heaven will come soon even in your room and remember that god loves you and that love and beauty is forever. be safe be safe be safe be safe.