#they are not performing road safety

[cryptidm0ths]

What do you do if they deliver your 🅱️izza ?

[chaossmith2]

Fremont Street is how I picture Tortuga in TToNF btw, just with more 17-18th century aesthetics obv

[devils-lake-cdjr]

Impressive Features of the 2023 RAM 1500

1. A V8 With 702 Horsepower

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[blogpopular]

Toyota Alphard: Luxo e Conforto em uma Minivan

A Toyota Alphard é a personificação do luxo e conforto em uma minivan. Este veículo, projetado pela gigante japonesa Toyota, redefine a experiência de dirigir, misturando sofisticação, espaço e tecnologia avançada. Desde o seu lançamento, a Alphard tem sido uma referência para famílias, executivos e até empresas de transporte premium que buscam uma combinação perfeita de funcionalidade e…

[micheal-mckeever]

Exploring the Benefits of DYU E-Bikes: Your Ultimate E-Bike Guide

E-bikes have revolutionized personal transportation, and DYU is at the forefront of this exciting industry. With their innovative designs and reliable performance, DYU e-bikes offer a fantastic solution for commuters and leisure riders alike.

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In this e-bike guide, we will delve into the various models offered by DYU, highlighting their unique specifications and benefits. From lightweight designs ideal for urban commuting to robust models suited for off-road adventures, DYU has something for everyone.

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Sent from my SM-G781U using Grasscity Forum mobile app

[hsmagazine254]

Double Cabins in Kenya: Unleashing the Versatility and Practicality

Double Cabins Vehicles When it comes to vehicles, practicality and versatility are highly valued, especially in a country like Kenya, where transportation needs can vary. Double cabins, with their unique design and spacious interiors, have gained popularity due to their ability to cater to a range of requirements. In this article, we will explore the benefits of double cabins in Kenya,…

[kettlefire]

High Speed Chase (DcxDp)

Johnny 13 didn't know what happened. One moment he was revving his bike through the Ghost Zone. Performing tricks between each slab of floating rock he drove through.

He had left Shadow with Kitty. His girl was having some kind of girls' night with a few other specters. Johnny was enjoying a bit of alone time, letting his mind wander and his body go on autopilot.

That was until he felt a strange force pulling him, trying to drag him and his bike in a different direction. Johnny tried to fight it, he really did.

With a flash of light, a vacuuming feeling, and moment of disorientation, Johnny was suddenly on a road. A real road. A solid road from the living world.

His wheels jostled and stuttered over the sudden texture change, and Johnny had quickly gotten his bike back under control.

It wasn't Amity. That was the first thought that crossed his mind as Johnny doubled down. His bike roared with life, and he made no move to stop. Not until Johnny knew what the hellw as going on.

In the first few moments, Johnny let his eyes wonder. Taking in the space around him. There was a strange machine that was quickly getting smaller behind him.

Something made of metal and wires, a ball of red energy suspended between a circle. There were cars around, and many of them seemed to have been abandoned.

Then there was the vehicles not so abandoned.

A large black car that seemed close to a modernized tank. Two bikes speeding down the street beside Johnny. He couldn't see through the window of the car, but Johnny could guess what would be in the driver seat.

Someone dressed up in a costume just like the two men on the bikes. The dipstick flashed through Johnny's mind, but he was too distracted to make any connections.

He had no clue where he was or why he was suddenly spit out into this world. He didn't know why he was being chased down by these three masked vigilantes.

So Johnny did the only thing he could think to do, he sped up. He slightly regretted leaving Shadow with Kitty, knowing just how much his friend could help right about now.

Johnny didn't know what these living people wanted with him, but he wasn't about to find out. Humans never wanted anything good from ghosts. The dipstick's friends were an exception. An exception that doesn't happen.

Johnny locked in, speeding up as he weaved through the streets. He wasn't going to get caught, he refused to let himself.

He needed to get back to the Zone. Back to Kitty and Shadow. He needed to tell the counsel about this. About the way he had been suddenly forced out of the Zone.

This could be dangerous, extremely dangerous. Amity Park was one thing, a town the ghosts were the safest to explore. Anywhere else was like a mine field, safety was an unlikely thing to find.

Especially if Phantom wasn't in this city.

It was a chase that Johnny hadn't felt since he was alive. Weaving in and out of traffic, phasing through obstacles, and even going invisible at some points.

Yet everywhere Johnny looked, one of them was hot on his tail. It was getting harder and harder for Johnny to keep his cool.

He didn't know these streets, these buildings, this traffic. How was Johnny supposed to lose these guys if he was in their home terrif?

Johnny didn't even have the chance to think over a solid escape plan when he found himself skidding straight into an 18-wheeler.

It happened too fast for him to even think of going intangible. One moment, he was speeding down an empty road. The next thing he was staring up at the night sky.

Out of all the things Johnny had expected, he didn't expect the sudden appearance of a man beside him. Concern radiating off the masked man as the vigilante searched him for any wounds.

[unconventional-lawnchair]

Hey! I wanted to see if you'd want to do a band!au with marauders . I was watching the kool kids maneskin, Tokyo concert, I couldn't help but think how problematic it actually could be. Something happens maybe someone makes the fem!reader uncomfortable and stuff goes down, everybody's like she's too arrogant and disrespectful and so on. How the marauders defend and comfort her etc with some fluff. Thanks!

You're Strong

Platonic!Marauders x Reader (Minus Peter)

AN: I love this request sm

Cw: 3704

CW: use of {Y/N}, Sexual Harassment, Victim blaming, sexual innuendos, a lot of cussing and shouting

Latex and a shitty cologne seemed to cling to your nose like a taunt, even in the supposed safety of your dressing room. You clung to the small vanity top, trying to rid your nostrils of the foul odor that seemed to cling to you like an unwanted memory.

This wasn’t your first time experiencing something like this, but it was the first since you joined the band.

Back in college, James had gotten on his hands and knees, begging you to fill in for Peter on guitar after their falling out. At the time, you and the boys ran in the same friend group but never really collided- except for Remus, who would write his songs with you.

James didn’t have a clue who you were until Sirius told him you were the one who taught Marlene how to strum. It took some convincing, but after some gentle prodding from Remus and downright devious tactics from Sirius, you finally caved. One song. One gig.

You should have known that wouldn’t have been the case. The moment your first performance was a hit, they practically hounded you around the clock to join them for more. Eventually, after a few failed guitarists, you agreed to go on tour with them.

Never once in the six weeks you had been on the road did you feel unsafe. It was your main concern. You weren’t scared of the boys, but traveling to a new city every night as a girl was a nightmare. You voiced your concerns to them, and they swore they wouldn’t force you into something dangerous. They were always with you at every point- one of them tied to your hip from the moment you exited your hotel room to the second you entered it.

But tonight was different. The moment you stepped on stage, you could tell it wasn’t like your normal performances. The producers had sprung something on James last minute, and you could hear him arguing from behind the curtain while you and Sirius exchanged worried glances.

When James came back, he was red in the face but greeted the crowd with his bright smile. You relaxed slightly, falling into the rhythm of the performance. Then, James introduced two more bands to the stage local to the area. Not just their instruments, but their bloody groupies as well.

The stage was suddenly flooded with people. Men and women danced, far too close. You looked to Remus in a panic, trying to keep your strumming even on your cues. Sirius seemed shocked but into the act, and James continued singing as if nothing was wrong. But for you, the stage had become a personal hell. The noise was deafening, and the people were too close- men grinding on you, women making crude remarks that only worsened your anxiety. It wasn't something you hadn't experienced before. But your boys were there. And they were doing nothing. Sweat and cheap plastic glitter assaulted your senses, making it hard to breathe.

The mix of sounds and overwhelming amount of strangers in your safe space made the stage feel like a claustrophobic nightmare. You tried to focus, to keep playing, but each note felt like a struggle. The safety you had once felt with the band was slipping away, replaced by a rising tide of panic.

Then, a husky smell hit your nose. This cologne you couldn't place, and the smell of burnt latex, as a man walked behind you and grinded on you. But he didn't pass by after, no, he stayed and pressed his entire waist against your back. You felt like you could heave, but instead of sobbing like you wanted to, you lashed out in anger.

You turned and practically snarled at him, your shouts barely audible over the music. “Piss off!”

“Woah, woah woah, no need to be so feisty.” He chuckled as he passed, muttering a simple, “Fucking prude.” as he went.

Your heart pounded in your chest, the adrenaline surging through your veins like wildfire. The blaring attack of music, shouting, and laughter melded into a disorienting blur. Your vision tunneled, and it felt like the walls were closing in. You tried to focus on your guitar, to find some semblance of normalcy, but your fingers were trembling too much to play properly.

James, always the charismatic frontman, seemed to notice your distress. He made his way over to you, still singing, his eyes filled with concern. He offered you sympathetic eyes, but even then, in his understanding you were even more upset. How dare he not warn you?

James’s presence, usually so comforting, felt like a betrayal tonight. You wanted to scream at him, to demand why he hadn’t given you a heads up about the chaos that would unfold on stage. But you knew this wasn’t the time or place. Truly, you didn't know if he knew either.

Your breaths became shallow and rapid, your chest tightening with each passing second. The stage lights felt unbearably hot, and the noise seemed to amplify, each beat of the drums pounding in your skull. You almost snapped at Sirius, as he slammed the instrument worked in tandem with your throbbing head. The people on stage began to mutter and laugh, you didn't need to hear what they were saying to know it was directed at you.

With a deep breath, you forced yourself to keep playing, though your notes were shaky and uneven. You could see Remus and Sirius exchanging worried glances, sensing the shift in your usually electric energy. James, ever the performer, managed to keep the crowd entertained, though his focus never strayed far from you.

But it was too much. The world around you felt like it was spinning out of control, your vision blurring with unshed tears. Your hands felt clammy, your grip on the guitar slipping. The overwhelming sense of panic clawed at your throat, making it hard to breathe.

The second the fifth song ended, you shoved your strings at one of the other band members before walking off stage. You couldn't do it. You couldn't even think clearly on that damn stage, let alone play. The need to escape, to find a quiet space where you could breathe, was overpowering.

You made your way backstage, your breaths coming in short, desperate gasps. The noise of the crowd and the band faded into the background as you found a secluded corner, sinking to the floor. You hugged your knees to your chest, trying to ground yourself, feeling the cold, hard floor beneath you.

As you sat there, the adrenaline began to dissipate, leaving you feeling drained and exhausted. The panic attack had taken its toll, but in the quiet of the backstage, you could finally start to piece yourself back together.

You stormed off to your dressing room where you were now, finally allowing yourself to break down.

You had never had a panic attack so publicly before. Replaying the memory only made it worse, as embarrassment took over the panic remembering how harshly you reacted. But why did you feel guilty?

Suddenly there was a firm knock on the door. You looked at the clock and winced. Did they stop the show early? Fuck.. your poor fans.

You didn't answer, you never did. Walking over to the bathroom to splash water on your face as you heard the door open.

“The hell were you thinking, James!?” Sirius’s shouts filled the room and you shook your head, cleaning off the makeup you now made a mess of.

“I didn't know it was going to happen! They sprung it on me too, Pads!” James shouted and Remus huffed.

“You should of said no, James.” Remus scolded and James waved his hand dismissively.

He walked up to your bathroom door and knocked, leaning his ear against it. “Hey, you good in there, {Y/N}?” He asked cautiously.

You schooled your expression once more before you swung the door open. Looking at the boy in front of you, his sweaty body covered in glitter and giving you a startled look. “Since when did the stage becomes a fucking rave!?” Your voice was loud and you tried to sound angry, but you were on the verge of tears again. Clueless as to why this seemed to affect you so much.

James's eyes widened as he saw the raw emotion in your face. He took a step back, his hands raised in a placating gesture. "I know, I know. It was a mess. I'm sorry, {Y/N}. If I had known, I would have stopped it before it started. Just- they were already in the back when Gideon told us, said it was a deal the producers made to get this place more attention, ya know?”

“Oh sob off with that crap! She's fucking scared, man!” Sirius snapped behind James and Remus scoffed.

“And you're not making it much better, Sirius.” Remus huffed before turning to you with gentle eyes. Ones you were used to, ones that always meant safety. You walked over and sniffed a bit, coming undone easily. Especially when he pulled you into a hug.

Remus rubbed your back and let you ruin his new shredded shirt. His bandaid covered hand slipping behind her head to let you muffle your sobs into his chest.

Eventually, your sobbing stopped, and Remus found himself inspecting you. “Hey..” He whispered after a moment of exchanging looks with the boys. “You're alright, pretty girl.” He cooed and you slowly smiled.

He took the chance to take a peek at you, only to see you smiling brighter at his glance. They had a way of soothing your more erratic emotions, so easily.

“Is she smiling?” James called out in a teasing tone. You rolled your eyes and pulled away from Remus with a sniffle.

“You guys always call me that.” You huffed and Remus laughed. “What? Pretty girl?”

You nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips despite the lingering tension. "Yeah, 'pretty girl.' It's like you think I'm some delicate flower, I'm a big girl.”

Sirius grinned, his usual mischievous spark returning. "Well, you are pretty, and you are our girl. Even if sometimes you're abusive." He cheeked and you shot him a glare.

“See? My groupies would have lost their shit at that line. I just get death glares.” Sirius dramaticized as he looked at James who snickered.

James gave a fond sigh, shaking his head. "Well, to be fair, Pads, it just shows {Y/N} has standards."

At that, you laugh and Remus smiled at you. “There she is.”

“Oh stop that.” You gave a small nervous smile and pushed his face to look away. He laughed before he kissed your calloused palm, turning to face you. He gave you one last comforting squeeze before letting go, his eyes still filled with love and gentle concern. "Seriously though, {Y/N}, we never want you to feel like that again. We need to make sure our performances are safe for everyone, especially you. Trust me, we were shit without a guitar.”

You rolled your eyes fondly but let his words seep in. Knowing he truly meant them.

You took a deep breath, feeling a bit more grounded with the boys around you. "I appreciate it, really. Just... next time, let's make sure there are no surprises, okay?"

James nodded earnestly. "Absolutely. No more surprises. We'll make sure everything is run by you first. You're part of this band, and you deserve to feel safe and respected."

Sirius threw an arm around your shoulder and gave you a squeeze. “Yeah, I mean, if you weren't here we'd just be a bunch of dudes jerkin it.”

You gave him a slack jaw at his crude remark, before Remus rolled his eyes.

“Something tells me you wouldn't mind that, Sirius.” James laughed and you quickly shooed Sirius’s arm off of you.

“You two talk like virgins and it's starting to become sad.” You huffed. “But I'm ready to go back on stage. It's been a hot minute now.”

James barked a laugh and you looked at him surprised. You hit his chest and he held your hand with a playful wince. “Sorry, sorry, just trying to imagine going back on stage after Sirius busted that bastard’s lip. I don't think the show is still on.”

“You did what!?” You exclaimed in shock, turning to Sirius. He didn't look even the least bit guilty, just grinning ear to ear like some damned cat. He shrugged nonchalantly. "What can I say? No one messes with our girl and gets away with it."

You shook your head, a mix of disbelief and amusement. Not to mention the endless about of affection and safety you felt. "Sirius, you can't just go around punching people."

"Well, I can and I did," he replied with a wink. "He deserved it. Dudes still lucky he has a heart beat."

Remus sighed, though a small smile played on his lips. "Let's just make sure we handle things a bit more diplomatically next time, yeah?"

James chuckled, squeezing your hand reassuringly. “I'm sure {Y/N} has no problems with it-”

Before the quips could continue, suddenly, there was a knock on the door. Sirius huffed and turned to slam it open. “What?!” He boomed and came face to face with a very angry producer.

“The hell are you all doing in here mingling? You have a crowd out there waiting to watch you play!” He boomed. Despite yourself, you suddenly clamed up. Oddly, you were unable to speak. Even as you tried to force yourself, the words felt like they were trapped in your chest. Your breathing increasing.

“We had an issue with a guy on stage-” Remus started and the producer scoffed. “Yeah, we all saw it! That's no excuse! These people paid good money-”

“I-I'm not going back out there.” You finally stammered out. He scoffed at you and Sirius tightened his jaw.

“I'm sorry, princess, please continue to believe the world revolves around you. But do that on the stage?” He pushed and you choked out a scoff.

“He-”

“Isn't that what you kids do? You party hard you have fun, can't blend those two together?”

The producer’s words cut through the air like a knife, leaving you feeling exposed and vulnerable. Your hands trembled as you tried to pull yourself together, but the panic was threatening to overwhelm you again.

Sirius, however, was having none of it. He stepped forward, his eyes blazing with anger. "Listen here, you pompous ass. She was sexually harassed on stage, and you think she should just suck it up and keep playing? How about you show a bit of human decency?"

The producer sneered, clearly unimpressed. "This is a business, Black. If she can't handle the heat, maybe she shouldn't be on stage."

Remus stepped in, his calm demeanor a stark contrast to Sirius’s fury. “Sir, I think that a discussion needs to be had about our safety on stage before any of us return to it.”

“I refuse to work like this.” You challenged again and the Producer scoffed.

“Listen, kid, everyone deals with stuff like this in show biz. Don’t be arrogant.”

You took a shaky breath and tried to still the next shiver that rocked through you. Again, your words were gathering in your throat like film. “No-”

“Kid.” The producer spoke more sternly this time.

James had been standing quietly, his fists clenched at his sides as he listened to the exchange. But the producer's dismissive attitude was the final straw. He stepped forward, his usually bright and cheerful eyes now dark with anger.

"That's enough!" James's voice rang out, startling everyone in the room. He pointed a finger at the producer, his hand shaking with barely contained fury. "How dare you speak to her like that! She's not just some performer you can push around. She's our friend, our bandmate, and she deserves respect! If you want this fucking band to work how about you worry about that freak in the back with the bloodied nose? Get him the fuck outta here!”

The producer opened his mouth to retort, but James cut him off, his voice growing louder. "You think this is just showbiz? You think it's okay for someone to be harassed and then forced to keep performing? What kind of person are you? I promise you, if she wasn't overwhelmed enough as it is-”

"James-" The producer began, but James wasn't done.

"No. You don't wanna listen to her, you're gonna listen to me. We've put up with a lot of shit from you. But she is where I draw the line. Is that understood?”

James's outburst left the room in stunned silence. The intensity of his words hung heavy in the air, and even the producer seemed momentarily taken aback. But the anger in James's eyes was unyielding with that fire and familiar protectiveness he held for everyone, but it seemed to be focused purely on you.

The producer, clearly flustered, tried to regain his composure. "Look, James, I understand you're upset, but-"

"No, you don't understand." James interrupted, his voice steady but seething with controlled rage. "This isn't just about being upset. This is about basic human decency. You don't get to treat her like that. Any of us! If you can't guarantee our safety and respect, then we're done here."

Sirius had a moment where he stared awestruck at James. Clearly proud. “What the big guy said.”

Remus nodded in agreement, his eyes never leaving the producer's. "James is right. This isn't negotiable. If you can't ensure our safety and treat us with respect, we're not stepping back on that stage."

The producer, now visibly shaken, tried to salvage his authority. "Okay, okay, let's not get hasty here. I-I'll talk to the guy and make sure he's removed from the venue. We can... we can make some adjustments."

James took a step closer, his demeanor still tense but slightly more controlled. “Good.. bloody good, yeah.” He sighed and rubbed his temple. “Now-”

“Get the fuck out!” Sirius shouted over James as his tone turned polite.

The producer mumbled something under his breath before he gathered what little pride he had and ran off.

You stood there shaking slightly, taking deep and steadying breaths when the door closed. James looked back to you and his eyebrows knit together with worry.

“Hey, sorry.” He cooed and muttered your name. Walking over only to give a soft ooph as you crashed into his chest with a tight hug.

This felt right. This felt safe.

It hit you why everything was crashing on you so hard. You have always been so strong, so determined, so ruthless. When the boys came along they smoothed out your edges with so much gentle care you forgot at times you needed to protect yourself.

Though, relying on them wasn't something you found unpleasant. You had been so strong all the time you forgot what it felt like to rely on someone. Let alone three practical guard dogs.

“I'm sorry you had to do that.” You whispered and James absolutely melted at the tender tone.

“Nope. You're not allowed to apologize for that.” James whispered and pulled you close and firm against him. You hummed and nuzzled your nose into his neck a bit. Not embarrassed to come undone in his arms.

“I'm still sorry. I hate to see you so upset…”

James sighed, his voice softening. "Seeing you upset is what makes me upset. Still debating going to give him another piece of my mind. I mean, who the fuck talks to someone like that?"

“James.” Remus warned and he huffed, nuzzling his nose into your hair. Finding comfort with you so close.

Safe.

You felt a tear slip down your cheek, but you quickly wiped it away, not wanting to let the emotions overwhelm you again. Sirius and Remus moved closer, forming a protective circle around you.

Sirius placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder, his earlier anger now replaced with concern. "You're alright, yeah? Come on, I hate seeing pretty girls cry.”

“Fuck off.” You choked out and Remus chuckled, rubbing your back.

Sirius gave a small, genuine smile. "That's the spirit. Just wanted to see a bit of that fire back."

You couldn't help but laugh through your tears, feeling the warmth and safety of your friends surrounding you. Remus continued to rub your back soothingly, his touch grounding you in the moment.

James pulled back slightly, just enough to look into your eyes. "You don't have to be strong all the time, {Y/N}. We're here for you. Always."

You nodded, taking a deep breath. "I know. And I appreciate it. I really do. I just... I wasn't expecting any of this tonight."

Remus gently wiped away a tear from your cheek. "I sure hope you weren't. It shouldn't have happened." He muttered, a bit guilty. Having seen it all go down and fighting every bit of himself not to move. You seemed like you had it handled- he didn't want to make a mockery of your strength. But when you left crying he almost screamed.

Sirius clapped his hands together, his usual mischievous grin returning. "Alright, sad sacks, enough of this sappy shit. Let's regroup, grab a drink, and figure out our next move. And if anyone else messes with our girl, they’ll have to answer to us. And I'm feeling high strung after Jamie’s lil proformance."

You smiled, feeling a newfound sense of strength and determination. The boys had your back, and you knew you could face anything with them by your side.

James nodded, his eyes still filled with concern but also a glimmer of hope. "Let's take a breather, all of us. We’ll decide what to do next, but for now, we need to make sure you're okay."

You took another deep breath, feeling the weight of the night slowly lifting. "Thanks, guys. I really don't know what I'd do without you."

Remus gave you one last comforting squeeze before letting go, his eyes filled with love and gentle concern. "You won't ever have to find out."

[hipsdofangirl]

candy

seokmin x reader

summary: just a simple car ride back to the apartment—nothing special.

genre: idol au, fluff, established relationship, nighttime driving and serenading

notes: based on a sweet dream i had a couple nights ago…

wc: 663

not proofread

fresh air blasts through your hair, swishing between the outside of the window or behind the safety handle inside the car.

you glance down at the temperature displayed on the screen—68 (20) degrees; your stomach flutters, unable to comprehend the very early morning weather with warm welcoming temperatures.

you can’t help but giggle and extend your right arm out the car, your fingers stretching to touch the stars; high on energy, you can’t help but savor the moment.

while seokmin savored you.

as you outstretched your arm, seokmin glanced over at you for a split second, before focusing his attention on the road. he couldn’t focus for so long as every shine from your expressions shot across the console to him, like many meteors in a shower. even though the road demanded his attention—especially during the cold night—your presence beckoned him.

you hum along to the song, fingers sporadically flittering to try and dance to the song. seokmin giggles quietly, not wanting to interrupt; he wishes he could capture this moment, like you did for him one late night in the van, but his eyes and memory would have to do. he flicks his eyes in the rear view mirror, noticing your friends in the back passed out. he mentally thanks himself for being a decent driver to put everyone at ease.

the current song fades through the wind as a new one would soon begin. you retract your hand and use it as a head rest, and you languidly turn your phone around, curious to the next song playing from your phone.

the bass of joshua’s voice vibrates your body. immediately you lightly toss your phone to hide the screen—one of your boyfriend’s ’boyfriend photos’ that you declared should be gatekeeped.

with your eyes close, you lean more into the palm of your hand, following along and singing quietly.

on the other side, seokmin’s subtle muscle memory activated as he too began to sing quietly to the song.

once joshua’s part ended, seokmin’s voice gained traction, growing louder to perform his part. except—he looks over at you; watching you sway your head and unconsciously smile when dk’s part began. except—he didn’t have to perform when he was with you.

when jeonghan’s part began, seokmin never lessened his voice. instead, he slowly reached over to your lap, where your left hand rested methodically tapped against your phone case, to intertwine your hands.

your eyes widen at the contact. you flick your attention over to him as you lift your head.

his smile grew as seungkwan sang. together, you move your clasped hands to rest on top of the console. you move past your position from resting on the car door to now rest on the console—therefore him.

you couldn’t focus on woozi’s voice. not when seokmin’s gaze—although attentive to the road—only looked at you. you couldn’t look away—not when seokmin sings so gently; not when seokmin sings only for your ears to hear.

the chorus may have changed singers but seokmin always stayed with you. the air flowing inside the car and whirling between you two could never separate you two.

even when seokmin had to look away, it was never by choice. to reach back to him, you leaned further against the console, further to him. you titled your head towards him and closed your eyes, savoring the warm air and melody.

seokmin’s voice somehow gets louder, without increasing his volume. then you feel it: a slight weight on top your head. you feel his quiet exhales of words rest upon your forehead. even as he focuses on singing, focuses on driving, he anchors himself to you, loafing his head onto yours still bearing his own weight however.

he still sings. his eyes may have left but his soul won’t. not when the two of you slowly melt into each other’s embrace; as if pieces of candy was being left out in the sun, becoming one with each other due in time.

tags: @jcxbliss

a/n: dawg why did i write this like they died in the end???? i tried to tie it into the song’s meaning but it just got dark—i mean in my dream seokmin and i didn’t die. anyways just take my dream and run with it lolol

if you made it have a nice day/night!!

[devils-lake-cdjr]

Basics About the 2023 Jeep Cherokee

Ahead of Jeep’s planned overhaul of its model lineup for 2024, the 2023 model year has only two trim levels for the Cherokee: the Altitude Lux and the Trailhawk, both of which are available exclusively in AWD.

While both trim levels can drive off-road fairly comfortably, the Trailhawk (as its name would suggest) has a few added features to make trails easier to handle. These include an extra inch of ground clearance, a standard traction-management system, and standard all-terrain tires.

What’s New in the 2023 Cherokee

Engine and Towing Performance

The Altitude comes with a powerful 2.4L four-cylinder engine that can put out 180 horsepower, while the Trailhawk uses a 2-liter, 4-cylinder engine rated at 270 horsepower. Importantly, both trim levels are more than capable of towing heavy loads.

The Altitude can tow up to 2,000 pounds: more than enough for a camping weekend with family and friends. The Trailhawk is rated at a maximum capacity of 4,000 pounds when equipped with the optional trailer tow package, making it ideal for heavy-duty applications.

Interior

The 2023 Cherokee enjoys the comfortable seats and spacious interior that Jeep is known for, with 25.8 cubic feet of cargo space in the trunk. With the rear seats folded down, the Cherokee enjoys nearly 55 cubic feet of storage space. Cargo loops can be used to secure your load and ensure it does not shift around while driving.

The 2023 Cherokee makes use of Jeep’s Uconnect infotainment system, which is very easy to use and makes use of a standard 8.4-inch touchscreen display, with an optional subscription-based Wi-Fi hotspot available to stay connected while on the go. The Trailhawk trim comes with a 7-inch digital heads-up display for the driver.

Safety Features

Both trim levels offer parallel and perpendicular parking assist features, as well as blind spot monitoring, forward collision warning, and lane departure warning systems to keep you safe on the road. A togglable lane keep assist is also standard.

Electronic roll mitigation and stability control also help keep your Cherokee level while driving off-road and can even help reduce the severity of a collision while driving in urban environments.

Interested in taking a 2023 Cherokee out for a spin? Get in touch with us at Devils Lake Chrysler Dodge Jeep Ram to schedule a time for a test drive today!

[covid-safer-hotties]

Also preserved in our archive

by: Beck Levy

“Maybe now vocalists will finally start bringing their own mics,” I tweeted in the first days of March 2020. My virtual audience was mostly friends I met by participating in subcultures in and adjacent to the DIY tendency of hardcore punk rock. In those early days, we on the cultural fringes shared a sense that the pandemic, in its capacity as a social intervention, could meaningfully disrupt the oppressive ruling order.

When I booked and played shows before COVID-19 hit, I tried to harness energy and rally when crisis arose. Touring band is lost on the road? I was ready to DJ to keep people from leaving between sets. No one came to unlock the club? Let’s play in the parking lot. The last show I’d played, just weeks earlier during Mardi Gras, was on a trailer being pulled by a dump truck. We’re responsive to shifting circumstances, right?

I couldn’t get a clear look at the new terrain through the brutal haze of my first-wave infection. I was disoriented, waking up breathless, fevered, delirious from nightmares about drowning in my own blood. I could not fathom taking any action that would contribute to COVID-19 circulating, and my symptoms made me believe I would be a risk to my community. With home tests scarce, every flare had me conceiving of myself as though I might be a biological weapon.

Friends texted their fears to me frantically: “Is music over? Are shows done?” I thought back to informal and unconventional gigs, the freedom and potentiality those moments held, and reassured my friends, sequestered in our separate biomes. I said and believed: “Music always finds a way, youth culture always finds a way, underground culture always finds a way.”

Slowly, reimagined, remote, and socially-distanced events returned. In lieu of Jazz Fest, New Orleans radio station WWOZ charmed us with “festing in place” on the airwaves. I did a solo set in a virtual anniversary showcase for my old record label. Another friend live streamed a show from a cavernous church. I’d guessed performances mediated by technology might salt the wound, but desperate for connection, I treasured those experiences.

I watched my place in the world creep away from me. There were rumors of scandalous secret shows during lockdown. But the first real sign was pictures on Instagram of people traveling and touring again. Scroll to that last image: a row of COVID-19 tests, all negative, smug. Or positive, chagrined but only a little; a mismatch to the scale of: “For fun I traveled as a disease vector and personally participated in the proliferation of an airborne pathogen that can kill or maim.” Was it a character limit? A limitation of character?

The world passed me by, carouseling through normalization phases, like COVID-19 tests phasing their way out of tour posts. I watched scenes regroup from my new vantage point in biopolitical exile. Pandemic gloom catalyzed a spate of reunions, which is wholesome and beautiful except for the fact that at least one band knowingly toured with a member who tested positive.

Was I overreacting? While COVID-19 left me with an immune system that attacks my body, my mind attacked itself with this question. I’d traded amps for this mental feedback loop. The counterargument was implicit: people need unfettered access to music more than we need safety.

Live music came back. It just didn’t bring me with it.

I didn’t see a critical mass of bookers, venues, or bands advocating for COVID-19 safety with measures like outdoor shows, improved ventilation, livestream options, or just adding tests and masks to the earplug bin at the door. Some hand disinfectant; a little hygiene theater at conventional venues. The will just wasn’t there. I thought our deal was fuck the state, we’ll do it our way. I found myself slipping through the subcultural safety net that exists for outcasts who are slipping through the cracks of mass culture and late capitalism.

Of course, punk was already inaccessible to some. And I actually believe a certain amount of gatekeeping is necessary to protect punk from posers, jerks, and cops. But among the nebulous community clustered around shows, the sexism and racism people have experienced has always been very real, to the tune of entire zines, books, films about that exclusion. I monitored my heartbreak, critically. Resource-scarce, informal, and underground operations often exist at a quagmire of conflicting access needs. Was the sting of betrayal just this painful because it affected me, directly? Can the subaltern mosh?

There was a brief period where my baseline had plateaued, and I enjoyed medium-functionality between flares. Clinging to my modest recovery, a memorial service was my first congregant risk. That was the last time I tried to play guitar. I got the twisties, psychic vertigo from grief and from the contradiction of my setting and my experience, but the band played on, complete with a brass section. And at that otherwise beautiful event, I was ceremoniously reinfected by an asymptomatic tuba player. My health has been steadily deteriorating ever since.

Isolation is hard: it can feel like rejection, it can feel real personal. I struggled to adapt. I know I can have a persecution complex, but I also know I’m materially being made surplus. So what do I tell the complex? Are people being thoughtless, or do they explicitly not give a fuck about immunocompromised people like me?

Life is never totally safe, danger is often exciting, sometimes risk is the point. I know that. I’m not (just) a joyless scold. In the era of potentially deadly airborne pathogens, we’re playing with other lives when we make “individual” health decisions—I thought we’d learned that, but there was no such reckoning.

Punks accepted the sociological production of the end of the pandemic, moving in lockstep with the state, sacrificing medically vulnerable people on the altar of pleasure, just as the state had sacrificed us on the altar of capital. I thought our ingenuity would create new forms of shows. Instead, it exposed our limits under duress. To quote the band Allergic to Bullshit, “If this is what we’re for, this is what we’ll get.”

Maybe my shock seems naïve—after all, there’s a difference between “subculture” and “counterculture”—but there’s a reason I expected better. There are visionaries with love, passion, and fearlessness who organize shows in strip malls, caves, skateparks, churches, parking garages; shows with immediacy like distributing free Narcan, and conviction, like benefits toward Palestinian liberation. I await, with diminishing faith, the eruption of that tendency in the bioethical arena.

Since immune ableism is hegemonic, congregating is a question of building a realistic threat model, making decisions with people who are directly impacted by your actions, and taking all possible precautions. I’m encouraged by radical formations with accessibility modifications, particularly those connecting social abandonment, climate crisis, and genocide. I see this reflected in art book fairs that require masking, outdoor Shabbatot, test-first leftist reading groups. Queer and drag events are making adjustments. Mask blocs and clean air clubs collaborate, with limited resources, to make spaces more accessible. These are people who insist on collective health, demanding freedom to live and breathe clean air.

For those of us with severe Long COVID, exclusion from live music represents a profound loss of humanity. This disconnection feeds into my daily despair; in medical terms, my depersonalization/derealization. Having hoped this crisis would push us closer to communism than complacency, I feel whiplash, what Naomi Klein calls “political vertigo.” Millions of Americans with Long COVID have disappeared from the workforce. Data on the underground music scene are unavailable. It’s hard to count ghosts. I’ve wanted to ask: Have you noticed that some of us are gone? Do you ever miss us?

Four years later, I still can’t even make it to a well-filtered show. My last recreational outing ended in hospitalization from merely ascending a steep hill. I hear about shows from my roommate, the only person I see, who is also the only masked person at them. I tell myself I could try to go to an outdoor gig one day, maybe, if my governing health planets aligned. Instead of being an active musician, I pretend I’m like Jandek, a reclusive genius, but really I’m too clumsy and unfocused to play at home.

I do what I do with everything: act like I’m in a different world. It’s not difficult, because I am. The Well do their thing out there, I do mine in here. I moved across the country in search of better healthcare and, homebound, routinely forget I’m not still in New Orleans. Either way I am inside. I gave up and I don’t fight the world leaving me behind. I am back here, rolling the boulder of my body up steep hills.

In spite of everything, I’m glad shows continue. It’s bittersweet comfort knowing freaks are getting raucous in basements, with noise made by other freaks, sprayed with wet yells, aggressively jostling with teens; in a reprieve from control, experiencing music together. I’d die for your right to do that. And thanks to you, I just might.

[skz-streamer]

10 Items Stray Kids' Y/n Carries Around In Her Bag

<- BACK TO MASTERLIST

Here are the 10 items that Stray Kids' Y/n keeps in her bag!

By: Bae, Kpopmap Editor 4 min to read  ·  Published : Date 08/26/33 ~63,562 Views

Stray Kids are a leading 4th generation idol group that has captured the hearts of millions across the globe. Their schedule is jampacked, especially with their most recent comeback. They show no signs of slowing down as they are set to attend many upcoming events.

Despite being busy and always on the road, Stray Kids', Y/n joined W Korea for a photoshoot. In behind the scenes content, the member was also able to share what's in her bag. These items hold a special meaning and are absolutely essential for the life of the busy idol.

Check out what's in Y/n's bag down below!

1. A Set Of Dice

"Oh, you won't believe the chaos this purse can tame! First off, there's my set of Louis Vuitton dice that Felix gifted me, its a little extra I know :) Whenever things get crazy, it's like a quick coin flip to decide our fate. It's a fun and easy way to lighten the mood."

2. A Hair Clip

"I always like to keep a hair clip in here. It's this beautiful gold star shaped clip with dangling stars – perfect for those impromptu hair-up moments. It's functional and adds a touch of style to any situation."

3. A Mini Jewelry Case

"I've got a mini jewelry case, too. It's not just for me; all the members use it to keep our jewelry safe when we're on the go. You know how we all love our accessories, and this little case is a lifesaver."

4. A Mini Hairbrush

"Of course, a mini hairbrush is a must. You never know when you'll need to fix up your hair, especially with all the performances and appearances we do."

5. Lip Tint

"Lip tint is another staple. I use it all the time to keep my lips looking lively and fresh. It's that perfect touch of color for any moment."

6. Mini Makeup Kit + Makeup Wipes

"I've got this adorable mini makeup kit from Milk, along with a pack of makeup wipes. It's a quick way to touch up our makeup and stay looking flawless, even during the busiest days."

7. Re-useable Tissue Holder

"For the environmentally conscious side of me, there's a reusable tissue holder with tissues inside. It's great for those unexpected sneezes or quick clean-ups. Plus, it doubles as a napkin in a pinch."

8. Mini fan + Power Bank

"You know how unpredictable the weather can be, so I carry around a mini fan with a power bank. Staying cool and charged – it's like a dream come true."

9. Self Defense Alarm

"I've also got a self-defense alarm, just in case. Even though my boys are always there for me, it's important to be cautious. Safety first, after all."

10. Perfume

"And the cherry on top – a mini bottle of Miss Dior eau de toilette. It's a classic scent that my mom used, so it holds a special place in my heart. A quick spray and I'm feeling refreshed and ready to take on the world."

"So, there you have it! My purse is a mix of practicality, style, and memories. It's like a little piece of me that I carry everywhere."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

an: I tried to make it pretty overall, I know you can't really fit urself into the y/n perspective but... either way this was really fun to make :))))))

Current tag list is: @eee5533 @mixtape-racha @ot8skz-wifey @ren0325 @felixvsp @crybabyychu @sanriiolino @painstakingly-juno @herarcadewasteland @dabiscrustyfeet @kai-lee08

Red means I couldn't tag youuu

Click here to be added ❤️

[stevesnightmares]

I'm sorry but I really don't get how people can be mad at mu qing for leaving xie lian when he did. I'm willing to accept many and varied opinions on the mountain incident (to a degree, even there I have some strong opinions), but when it comes to him asking to leave and then leaving, I just don't get it.

Mu Qing had a mother he had to take care of, a sick and poor mother, how could he spend every second of his life taking care of Xie Lian, Feng Xin, the king and the queen when his only family also needed his help? Who would put anyone else's safety and well being over their own mother's safety and well being? Even if it was your bestest of friends, would you still be able to pick their life over your own mother?

"The King and Queen are his Highness parents but I have my own mother to worry about. She also needs my care. I can't neglect my own mother for the sake of someone else or someone else's parents."

Not only that, but while Xie Lian obviously considered Mu Qing his dear friend, Mu Qing was still his servant and even while the five of them were now all in the same situation and were all poor and hungry, Mu Qing was still the only one who had to take care of all of the chores. They could've divided, could've helped him, but no, even when they had all fallen into poverty, lost their riches and titles, Mu Qing was still treated as everyone's servant. So sure, they were friends who cared for each other, but he was also their servant and who would ever chose their master over their own mother?

"Mu Qing had always been responsible for looking after the money purse, and he had constantly kept track of their finances."

"With Mu Qing gone, they had also lost the one who brought food to the king and queen."

"But he didn’t know how to finish that sentence. Could’ve what? Could’ve had the palace attendants do the washing? Could’ve had Mu Qing do the washing? None of that was possible now."

"Mu Qinghad acted as their personal attendant on their never-ending road to escape, and his duties had included taking care of all personal necessities—including caring for the needs of Xie Lian, the king, and the queen. With him gone, there was no one to attend to all the mundane daily tasks. No one to cook, no one to wash, no one to fold the blankets. The simple days of the past suddenly became difficult."

They were all in a terrible and hard situation and yet Mu Qin still had to be their servant, work with Feng Xin and Xie Lian and then also take of his mother.

In addition to that, Xie Lian and Feng Xing had never been poor before and thus they had a lot more pride than Mu Qing did when it came to making money: we see them starting that fight and losing their money, we see them refusing to become street performers. Mu Qing needs money to feed himself but he also needs money to feed his mother and Xie Lian and Feng Xin weren't willing to do what needed to be done, which left him in a difficult position.

“Another reason is that I feel we’ve become mired in this situation and have very different ideas on how to pull ourselves out. Pardon my honesty, but if we keep going like this, nothing will get better—even in a million years. And so, our paths have diverged.”

Feng Xin being angry at Mu Qing in the past makes sense: not only is he loyal to a fault and always seems to put Xie Lian first but he also seems to often see the worst in Mu Qing, so it makes sense that he would chalk it up to Mu Qing being a leech who stood by Xie Lian side only when things were good because he wanted to reap the benefits of being Xie Lian's friends but leaveing once there were no more benefits. But readers know that's not what happened or what was going on in Mu Qing head because he straight up said the reason why he left, and while Feng Xin might not believe him, I don't see why fans wouldn't either when we've seen him care from his mother from the beginning.

“Your Highness, you hear that? Remember what I said back then? I said that he’d be the first to run off if you were ever banished. Didn’t I tell you?”

“Well, don’t you have a load of sour, veiled excuses? I don’t give a damn,” Feng Xin said. “Is it so hard to admit you’re an ungrateful traitor?”

“Goddammit. That bastard was happy to share the wealth but not the suffering. He ran away the moment things got tough. Does he remember nothing of your kindness?!” “I’m the one who told him not to remember it,” Xie Lian said. “So…you don’t need to bring it up constantly.” “But he couldn’t possibly forget it for real?!” Feng Xin refuted.

And even Xie Lian almost seems to think that the only reason Mu Qing left is because things just got too bad and Mu Qing didn't want to stay with him because it was just too hard instrad of thinking about Mu Qing situation.

He never expected someone so close to him to leave just like that. Xie Lian had always believed in “forever”—friends would always be friends forever, with no betrayal, no deception, no breaking up. Perhaps there would come a time when they had to part, but it wouldn’t be for a reason like “things got too horrible.”

Of course I don't blame Xie Lian for being a little "self centered" after everything the poor boy had to go through, after everything he had to endure, everything he had to lose (including faith in himself). My point isn't about Xie Lian, who had to endure more than he could handle and now he also had to lose one of the people that he considered his closest friends while being at his (at the time) lowest, but simply about some posts that I saw about Mu Qing leaving that I didn't agree with. Everyone is entitled to their own opinion of course, this is simply mine.

[britney-rosberg06]

to sum up my weekend:

logan loses his car

everyone puts too much pressure on alex to perform cause he’s gonna be using logan’s car

at the race his precious baby angel/terror upon his household (affectionate) penelope is at, Max’s breaks explode and he’s out of the race

mclaren swaps positions putting lando ahead but doesn’t swap them back the entire race costing a podium for oscar at home

mark webber is giving out the trophies

so oscar doesn’t get to be on stage with mark getting a trophy at home

charles is forced to follow team orders again

pierre and esteban are still driving alpines

george crashes so supremely on the last lap he begs for a red flag. he’s in the middle of the road and the most they give is. safety car

but hey, at least there’s yoints going into Suzuka and Kika looked like a goddess!!

[blogdays]

Helpbrake - Pro+ (2)

Brake fluid replacement is an important maintenance task that helps ensure the safety and proper functioning of a vehicle's brake system. Brake fluid plays a crucial role in transferring the force applied to the brake pedal to the brake components, effectively slowing or stopping the vehicle. Over time, brake fluid can become contaminated with moisture, dirt and debris, which can compromise its performance and potentially lead to brake failure. Therefore, it is important to change the brake fluid regularly to ensure optimum brake performance and safety.Considering the cost of a brake fluid change cost, it's usually an affordable service. Brake fluid replacement cost may vary depending on factors such as the make and model of the vehicle, location, and service provider. On average, a brake fluid replacement typically costs around $100 or less. Considering the importance of maintaining a properly functioning brake system for road safety, the cost of a brake fluid change is a worthwhile investment. Coupons and discounts are often available for both brake fluid change and oil change services. Service providers like jiffy lube coupon and take 5 oil change coupons and discounts to help customers save money on these services. These coupons can be found online or through promotional mailings. By using these coupons, customers can save on brake fluid replacement or synthetic oil change services. It's worth checking out the available coupons and discounts before scheduling these services to take advantage of potential savings. Do not forget to visit our website for more information.

[ralfmaximus]

If you're driving pretty much any car, and you notice the A/C vent is blowing too much cold air on you: close the vent. Or aim it away. You can perform this action without taking your eyes off the road, simply by grabbing the appropriate vent.

In a Tesla:

Find & touch the climate control button on the touch screen

Find & touch the image of the vent you want to control on the touch screen

Pinch and expand to increase

Pinch and squeeze to decrease

Swipe to aim left/right, up/down

All of this while trying to keep your vehicle on the road. Good luck with that!

Note that the whole time your fingers only touch glass, not physical switches. There is no feedback, haptics, no way to feel if you're touching the right thing. It's all done visually.

And every time Tesla issues an over-the-air software update, the screens could change, rearranging things while you sleep. That usually doesn't happen, but the very nature of software means that it could. Unlike a physical switch jammed into your old car's dashboard.

It's such a dangerous situation that the EU has changed the rules about how they certify automobile safety. Cars without physical switches can no longer receive a top safety rating.