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09/27/2020 03:51 PM 

title track.

Damian pushed his hand up and over his eyes, doing his best to block out the small strains of moonlight that poured into the backseat of the rundown Impala. He could hear the sounds of people leaving the bar down the street, their voices carrying in the vast emptiness that the night seemed to offer, and for a moment he blamed them for why the dreams would escape him. But even in the state he was in, he knew that it wasn’t necessarily the truth, in fact it was far from it. Instead he was just trying not to think about just what would await him when he finally found the sleep that he needed. So he did what he always did, reached into the pocket behind the driver’s seat and pulled out a worn out flask he had taken with him when he left that final foster home, without a second thought he pushed it to his lips and felt the burn as it rushed his throat. Again his head fell back against the bundle of shirts that seemed to be thinning, Rydel...always pulling from his makeshift pillow when she had to head back to that house, something about the smell of his cologne. Thinking about it, it never made sense, his cologne was always whatever clouds they walked through at the mall or an abundance of scratch-n-sniff pages from magazines, but he shook his head and just tried to relax. Tonight was the night, the night when dreams would finally come to him, happy dreams.  His eyes closed and he just tried to listen to the sound of the world around him, the hum of cars flying past him, the complaints of the drunkards still screaming about something down the street, and that feeling of his heart bumping in his chest. Before he knew it, the small pad of light in his eyelid had consumed his mind and he drifted off into his own dreamland.  He was greeted with the most perfect smile he’d ever seen, the innocence behind it, the joy in her voice as she introduced herself to him. Damian would remember that day even after he left the world; the day he met them. Rydel and Isabel, the two sister’s who finally gave him a sense of belonging, and a reason to fight. It was then and there, that smile, that convinced him he’d do what it took to keep her safe, when he knew how he felt about her, and when he realized maybe fairy tales were only mostly lies. But as soon as that image appeared in his mind, he was woken up by the sound of someone hitting the window above his head. Quickly he pulled himself up and looked to see a flashlight pointed back towards him, his heart dropping as he opened the door and heard the voice on the other side.  “ you can’t be sleeping here kid, it’s a no parking zone after three am, get outta here”An apology was pulled from Damian’s lips before he walked around and into the front seat of the car, looking up to see his vision already doubled. Damn, that tequila was doing a number on him already. Chewing on his lip he looked into the mirror, seeing the uniformed man staring back to his car and the key turned in the ignition so he could pull out of the spot and drive...somewhere.  It only took another few moments, and some particular dangerous turns, before he pulled into the parking lot of the local high school. He tried finding somewhere to park near the bus garage, just hoping to get a few more moments of rest as he climbed into the back seat once more. Again he struggled to find those dreams and without the distractions of the world he knew it would be even more of a struggle than before. Leaning up he grabbed that silver temptation and put it to his lips, the taste covering his lips from yet another long drag before he laid back. His eyes closed and before long he was pulled back under into a dream, praying it was the same one that he had been so rudely ripped from. His back hit a wall and the pain of a fist slamming into his cheek felt more real than anything he’d ever experienced, but he knew it was worth it. A smirk spread across his lips as he pushed off of the wall and wiped away the crimson liquid covering his lip, his eyes darted and found hers, seeing that pleading behind those hazel orbs. His gaze was quickly pulled away as he looked to the man staring him down, those words he’d said to her, the way his hands had latched at her leg when she pulled away, they only made Damian’s rage grow. So as the man charged towards him, Damian balled his fist and began to lift it, swinging his hand forward before pain spread through his arm.  “F***” His eyes opened and he looked around the back of the car, his hand sore as he pulled it away from the door that he could only assume was a stand in for the man in his dream. Looking around the car Damian noticed the small bits of sunrise beginning to invade his ‘home’. Shaking his head the boy climbed back up and into the front seat, trying to think of the only place that he could actually sleep, the only scenario in which he’d be peaceful and rested. So he turned the key and for hopefully the last time that night, the Impala roared to life and the boy began to drive.  It took another twenty minutes before he pulled up in front of that run down home, his eyes looking up to the second floor and locking onto one window as the engine cut out. Sure, he wouldn’t go inside, hell, he wouldn’t get out of the car, but she was there. Damian pulled himself out of the front seat and into the back yet again, laying his head down as he thought about how ridiculous he was being, how much trouble he could get into if someone recognized the car he was in. But he didn’t care, he’d get some rest and that’s what mattered. His eyelids fell shut and covered his orbs as he began to drift off to sleep, this time feeling the peaceful grasp of the dreams hold him, no ‘medicine’ needed.  His body was covered in warmth as the cool night wind spread over his body, that skatepark empty except for the two of them in one another’s arms. Her voice on repeat in his mind, those three words playing endlessly as the happiest thought he could muster filled his dreams.


09/27/2020 02:37 PM 

Spirit Week Task - Fall recipe

Apple Cider Mimosas.Ingredients. 1 bottle champagne1 cup apple cider2 tbsp sugar1 tbsp ground cinnamon InstructionsOn a small plate, combine sugar and cinnamon. Dip champagne flutes in water to wet the rims, then dip in cinnamon-sugar mixture. Fill champagne flutes 1/4 full with apple cider, then top off with champagne.


09/27/2020 02:31 PM 

Fall Spirit Week Task: Scavenger Hunt Moodboard


09/27/2020 02:10 PM 



09/27/2020 02:03 PM 

Fall Spirit Week Task: Moodboard

Fall Bucket List 1. Decorate the house for the spooky season.2. Go and visit a haunted house with the sister. 3. Watch  Hocus Pocus with Lex. 4. Visit a Pumpkin Patch5. Find a costume for Halloween.6. Girl's road trip.7. Carve a pumpkin or two. 8. Horror movie marathon9. Go and visit a corn maze. 


09/27/2020 12:07 PM 


Hello there!I'm Alexandria Elizabeth Victoria de Orleans. I'm the daughter of a famous surgeon and a member of the British Royal Family. Also, I am the granddaughter of the late Princess Margaret, Countess of Snowdon.Here's a few facts about myself to help us make a story line Dog mom to two Golden Retriever's, Coco and Rex Born in London, England Descendant of the House of de Orleans who was founded by Philippe, Duke Orleans Victoria's Secrets Angel Model and Socialite Raised between Paris, France & New York City, New York History Nerd and has her doctoral degree in History Has been on the New York Times Best Seller list 4 times for the 4 books she has wrote Speaks at confrences and synposiums about the Tudor/Stuart dynasty Loves Sugar Cookies That's all for now!Hope to hear from you soon!

Cᵃᵐᵖ Kⁱⁿᵍ™

09/26/2020 09:53 PM 

Jason D. Voorhees Rules & Guidelines
Current mood:  accomplished



09/26/2020 07:57 PM 

Nicolette - Earthquake
Current mood:  anxious

After hours of begging Gypsy to sleep, Nicolette won the battle of exhaustion. The hospital room contained not only a bed for Grace but one for the mother as well. The perks of being wealthy are that the world around you stops and listens when you cry. If Gypsy had been poor, she would still be in the waiting room with a sick child in her arms. Only those with status receive the care that every human deserves. Nicolette knew her cousin used the money card to get in, but she couldn't condemn her. Any parent given the same situation would have done the same thing. Slipping from the room, Nicolette left her number with the nurse's station if there was a change in Grace. At this time, she knew she was the only one who could keep the wolves at bay, but in reality, she didn't have a clue who the wolves were. If there was one thing she hoped to gain here, it was to find out who and what she was dealing with to know how to proceed. "Where is the chapel?" Nicolette asked. Pointing in the south wing direction, the hospital receptionist kept the phone to her ear, working on what seemed to be auto-pilot. Maybe it was a common question, or perhaps she didn't care. Either way, Nicolette thanked her and found the small chapel on her own. It was typical of a hospital chapel, but she noticed that there was no one but her praying. Maybe people forgot how to pray, or perhaps they were like Nicolette and used the God card only when Nicolette needed help. Face it, she didn't believe in heaven, but she was sure there was a hell. She had lived her nightmare since the day she was born. "Thanatos, we need to speak. I need to talk to you about him," she whispered. Whoever said the evil never entered church lied. Today would be the second time she called out to Thanatos in a place of worship, and though she would usually find it comical, not tonight. "We need to stop meeting like this," he said. Sitting to Nicolette's right, Thanatos sat stiff, not amused at the places she chose for them to meet. It was as though Nicolette did this on purpose, knowing that a church was not the ideal place to meet a man such as himself. He looked down at his nails, the remnants of his last collection still under his nails. His patience running thin with the young girl, she was making no effort to find out on her own who the male was. If she wanted him, she should call the male, not him. "I need to know who he is? What he is, and how to stop this creature from taking Grace away from her mother," she asked. It was rather a demand this time, and not a plea for help. If he wanted her to find the man, he would need to tell her the direction in which she should look. Exhaling, he leaned over, his hot breath against the shell of her ear, "If I tell you all the details than you don't deserve to save the child. You will find all you need with research, but I don't know that you will like what you find out. Pick and choose your battles, child. Saving Grace will be the fight of your life. Be ready for challenges ahead.""I don't know where to look," she said, her head turned to the side to find she was once again alone. The doors to the chapel opening, a man of the cloth entering, "Child, do you seek help?"No, I'm fine," she said, using all of her powers not to slaughter the man. He had done nothing wrong, but then again, most of them never did. "Can you point me in the direction of the hospital library?" she asked. "Down the hall and to the left, but you won't find what you seek there. The answers that you seek are inside of the child and her father," he said. "How do you know what I'm looking for?" she asked, her heart racing with fear. Who was this man? Those eyes so familiar, but the face wasn't. "The truth is coming," he said as he walked away just as the earth below shook. "EARTHQUAKE!" she cried, rushing to blow all the candles out before they hit the floor and burned the hospital in a raging hell of fire. 

Aubree Stevens-McFadden

09/26/2020 05:06 PM 

15 years later

  Aubree was officially adopted by Marvin and Millie half way through her senior year. Out of all of the drama that put a smile on her face. She got into NYU, her dream school. She never returned to Tree Hill because of the painful memories. She was gonna make a name for herself. It took several years and some hard work but she finally got to open her own gallery. Her parents offered to help financially but she refused.    She wanted to accomplish it on her own. To her surprise it was a success. She proved every bully and everyone who said she couldn’t do it wrong. She dedicated her first opening to Sawyer Scott, her best friend and her biggest fan. She couldn’t have asked for a better life because she felt that it doesn’t get any better than this. All of her dreams came true, not many can say that.


09/26/2020 03:53 PM 



Friendly Giant

09/26/2020 02:44 PM 

Dad's Journal

Scotland, where no Winchester has gone before. Engh. Wrong answer.  Just because Dean doesn't like to fly, doesn't mean none of us have been. There was this one time, no not at band camp! Sorry, had to. Now back to the monster story at hand. It started out that poor Selkies were being attacked, one clan in particular, on the verge of extinction. Everyone has heard of Nessie but that is not the one about to be told. Nessie has an evil sister Loch Morag. Many boats have more than capsized in this Loch. Do not go swimming is an understatement. She just doesn't nibble at your toes. The Morgause of the sea might as well say. A few of us hunters could only slow her down enough, injure her enough that she went under until we could re-locate that particular selkie clan.  Sorry to say Morag, is still there so beware all who enter Loch Morar. 

Angel Mulder ©

09/26/2020 12:40 PM 

To Russia with Love.
Current mood:  aggravated

She jolted awake and found herself passed out in a chair in the corner of the hotel room. She took a moment and blinked. she let out a breath and stood up rubbing her eyes, she made her way over to the table and saw a hastley written note in her mothers hand writing. she picked it up and read it then tossed it back on the table.-Angel,Damien and I went out to try to find some coffee the stuff here sucks, I saw you finally fell asleep and did not want to wake you. We should be back shortly Dont go wandering off.Mom-She sighed and walked into the bathroom and turned on the water and started brushing her teeth and looked at her reflection, she rolled her eyes at herself and finished up. She walked out and went to her bag looking at the clothing but then paused she looked at her reflection and saw she was wearing Wills shirt that she stole..borrowed. She really didnt want to change out of it so she decided just on putting on shorts. She threw her bag to the corner of the room, thats when she noticed it a blinking light in the corner of the room. She walked over to it and tilted her head, she reached up and pulled a small black camera off the wall. She raised her eyebrows  and looked around. Why would there be camera in here?She paused again and herd mens voices outside her door. She froze and her heart rate sped up and she glanced around the room, just as she did that the door handle jiggled and she panicked. She glanced back and went to the window and pushed it open, just then she herd the beep of the electronic lock and she posted herself out of the window. She sat there with her back against the wall letting out a small breath trying not to make a sound. She herd there belongings being thrown and then her eyes grew wide she herd it..They were speaking Russian..She panicked more and slowly came off the wall and was walking away through bushes. She started walking faster when she felt it a tough grip on her arm and it ganked her backwards and a hand covered her mouth, she was being dragged through the grass and she tried to breakfree, she she panicked more she felt the heat in her body rise she closed her eyes and was about to send out a jolt when she felt a small prick in her arm. Her vision started getting blurry and her body felt heavy. She herd doors open and felt her body being put in the back of a van. She blinked  and tried to look around still trying to fight them off. The man grabbed her arms and held them . He grabbed her face with his other hand and held it to his , thats when she recognized him."Is....its you?"he smirked at her and spoke in a gruff voice-Privet, Lightning Bug, davno ne videlis'. Moy, kak ty vyros. Teper' ty budesh' vesti sebya khorosho, i ya ne prichinyu tebe vreda(Hello Lightning Bug, long time no see. My how you have grown. Now your going to behave and I wont hurt you) She looked up at him and felt her eyes glaze over and her mind grow fuzzy, she tried to call out to Will but she knew whatever they injected her with that he wouldnt hear it, all she hoped is that somehow he knew something was wrong.


09/26/2020 11:47 PM 


HOMEMADE SPICED APPLE CIDER.  Keep warm on Bonfire Night the most delicious way possible, with a hot, steaming cup of gorgeously spiced cider. Flavoured with cinnamon, cloves and star anise, this cosy cocktail takes just 15 mins to make and is a great Bonfire Night party idea. MAKING: Heat the vintage cider, cinnamon sticks, cloves and star anise in a large pan for a few mins, then add the ginger syrup, the orange juice and slices and the sugar. Bring to the boil, then simmer for 5 mins. To serve, ladle into glasses and add an extra cinnamon stick stirrer, orange slice and star anise to each, if you like. INGREDIENTS: 1½ ltr vintage cider 2 cinnamon sticks 4 cloves 2 star anise 4 tbsp ginger syrup (from a jar of stem ginger) 1 orange, ½ juiced and ½ sliced 3 tbsp light soft brown sugar  


09/26/2020 11:51 PM 

drabble; endurance (pt. 1)

ENDURANCE | part onecw: suicide, blood, torture “We rejoice in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces… what?” Nothing. No response other than labored breaths; failed attempts at a single word, one that usually comes easy to him. Ezra is on his knees, choking. Brian is kneeling before him, holding onto his arms. “Suffering produces…” he prods once more, squeezing Ezra’s arm. Droplets of blood smack against the tile in the entryway. Ezra can’t even think straight, let alone speak. Had he run to his father instead, would the outcome have been any different? “Suffering produces what?” “I’m - Brian, I c -” “I’m not asking you what you can and can’t do; I’m asking you to tell me what comes next. Do you want my help? Do you want to be forgiven?” Brian squeezes his arm a little tighter. “You’re suffering, aren’t you?” “Y - ah - yes. Yes.” An attempt to jerk his arm away fails. Ezra squirms in place in frustration, gritting his teeth. “Don’t pull away, you asked for my help. Suffering produces what?” Ezra stares at his blood on the floor, shaking his head, questioning whether or not he can make it through the entire verse. A burst of pain shoots through the entire side of his face, a force he’s incapable of comprehending causing his head to snap to the side. The instinct to place a hand over where he’s been hit causes his arm to yank again; the increase in pressure only draws more blood. “Ezra.” Brian demands, the hand that slapped him now used to lift his chin. “This is very serious. By trying to take your life, you’ve not only betrayed us, but God himself. Do you realize that? I’m trying to help you, but you have to let me. Do you want to be forgiven?” Ezra lowers his head as soon as the hand leaves his chin. “Do you?” It’s all his strength to fight his tears back. Is he worthy of being forgiven? Can he truly be saved or is Brian just punishing him -- getting revenge? Will he be outcast? Made an example of? “Do you want forgiveness?” Ezra squeezes his eyes shut. “Yes…” “Then speak. Suffering produces?” “Endurance…” “What? Clearer now.” “Endurance.” “Good. And endurance produces…?” Brian squeezes tighter. “We won’t go through this a second time, I hope.” Ezra shakes his head. “Character.” He can’t stop shaking. The entryway feels impossibly cold. Brian’s wife comes to stand at the top of the steps, looking somewhere between horrified and enraged. “What’s going on?” Brian steals Ezra’s attention by redirecting his chin again. “We’re going to stand now,” he instructs. “Endurance produces character, and character produces what?” Brian begins to stand; his hold on Ezra’s arms forces Ezra to stand too. “Character produces what?” His knees start to give. His vision becomes tunneled. He’s starting to wish he’d have let himself bleed out in piece in the barn. Why did he come there? He inwardly curses himself for abandoning forgiveness; abandoning family; abandoning God. Can Brian save him from this? “Brian, please, I can’t -” “Yes you can, now answer me.” “Brian!” Ezra catches a glimpse of Brian’s wife coming down the stairs. His vision goes from tunneling to blanking out entirely, the world moving in slow motion, and only in small patches of information he’s unable to make sense of. The melded voices around him sound less like people, more like guttural sounds, no one speaking real words. He’s still struggling for the one word Brian wants, but all his attempts come out as high-pitched breaths and involuntary begging that spills out before he can control it. Even that comes to a halt, along with everything else. The guttural bickering, the smacking sound of his blood, the begging, the demands. His vision goes from tunneled to incomprehensible silhouettes to nothing. He’s crashing. He’s crashing. Who would forgive him if he can’t even speak the word? Where would he go if he couldn’t be forgiven? He’s crashing, his entire weight suddenly hurled into Brian’s chest while his wife yells for help in the background. Character produces what?


09/26/2020 11:48 PM 

drabble; oblivious.

“Do you have anything to say?” Swallow it back, even if it hurts; even if it burns the entire way down, swallow it back. Sitting in the passenger’s seat, staring out the window, Casey is guilty as charged and he and his mother both know it. There’s nothing to say; there’s no defense, or at least not one she’d buy into. She seems to be having fun playing the victim -- the mother in distress over her wayward son. She’s shaking her head. She says she can’t believe he’d embarrass her like that, but really, she’s mad Casey ruined her date. “Casey?” “No, I have nothing to say.” “You’re damn lucky you weren’t expelled, you know.” “No, you’re lucky I’m not expelled. I really don’t care.” “You don’t care that I have to take time off work to watch you?” “Not really.” Casey shrugs, folding his arms. “I don’t get paid for that, you know. That’s dinner.” “No one said you have to watch me.” Casey rolls his eyes, shaking his head before returning his focus on the window. He’d never admit it, but the idea of spending three days at home with Jennifer genuinely terrifies him. “You act like I did it just to mess with you.” “Sure as hell feels like it sometimes when every time I turn around, you’re getting into trouble. Fighting, really?” “Ch'yeah, I totally pick a fight and lose ‘cause I know it’s gonna piss you off. You’re totally right.” “Jesus Christ, Casey…” Jennifer rolls her eyes. “You done?” “Are you?” “Unbelievable.” Jennifer shakes her head. “You know, I really don’t know why you hate me so much…” At that, Casey’s jaw tenses, a burning sensation ignited in his chest, spreading outward. Either she’s playing dumb or she really doesn’t get it, and he can’t figure out which is worse. “I could honestly ask you that same thing.”


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