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gallusrostromegalus · 7 months

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I haven't seen any dog stories in a while. How are Charleston and The Hanukkah Goblin doing?

Dog updates!

The first one is a little sad, but also how life should go. Arwen is 14 now and while she's still moving, eating, pooping and generally enjoying life, she also has canine dementia and sundown syndrome where she gets extremely nervous and her dementia gets worse after dark. She'll be with us for a while yet, but it's something we have to manage now.

One person who is very much helping her manage is Herschel. My parents are traveling a lot while they still have the knees for it so I spend a lot of time up at their house, and Charleston and Herschel come up too. Being a Corgi, Herschel likes to manage things, and Arwen would like someone to manage things for her so he's become her self-appointed guide dog.

When I call the dogs for food or outside, he goes and finds her deaf ass and herds her to the location. Normally she doesn't go outside after dark but when the boys are there she's willing to wait for Charlie to chase away anything that might be lurking out there, and then follow Herschel's ass around the yard at night.

Very literally.

She's also got cataracts forming and I think his bright white backside is easy for her to see in the dark, so she follows it around.

During daytime walks she sees well enough but neither she nor Charlie are fans of strange off-leash dogs running up to them (a regrettably common problem out here. I don't care if your dog is friendly MINE ARE NOT!), so both of them prefer to walk half a pace behind Herschel so his more socially adept and knife-filled face is out front to intercept any unwanted solicitors. This does tend to give people the opposite impression though- because he is so much shorter, Herschel gives the impression of a tiny, charming mafioso flanked by his two large and surly bodyguards.

Like, they absolutely would kill a bear for him.

But Charlie and Arwen would also try to kill a bear on general principle.

At night, when Arwen barks at shadows, Herschel runs up and stand between her and the alleged menace, and does his best to look large and intimidating and for as silly as he looks, he does have a very good growl. After a moment, when the alleged bear or congressman or other horror fails to appear, he will stick his nose into the offending shadow, and finding nothing, be satisfied that their joint effort has successfully chased the problem off, and report back to her. This, more than anything else, seems to alleviate Arwen 's fears.

I guess we all just need someone to take us seriously when we're frightened.

Charleston, meanwhile, has gotten into giving safari tours of the front range's small vertebrates.

After eight years of managing his exceptionally high prey drive, something clicked earlier this summer and instead of immediately lunging his whole face at any approximately bite-sized animal in an attempt to expedite it's journey into his stomach, Charlie has started *pointing* at things until I come look at them and tell him he's a good boy. This started with a mole, something he'd never seen before and that moves above ground in a strange way, so he wasn't sure about eating it, so he only alerted at it. "GOOD BOY!" I shouted, giving him all the cuddles. "GOOD SPOT! GOOD JOB NOT EATING IT!"

It's important to reward behavior you want to see.

Since then, he's been trying out pointing at small creatures in the grass and then making very pointed eye contact with me until I come look at them. This is a little tricky when walking both dogs because Herschel is still very much in his "inhale wildlife" phase, but usually I can lock the little gremlin's leash and go look at whatever Charlie has cornered while Herschel attempts to develop telekinesis to will the critter into his mouth.

So far, Charleston has found: a baby rabbit, several baby rabbits in a cluster, an adult rabbit with Jackalope virus, several voles, several moles, a fledgling owl, only the two mice, several mouse-sized grasshoppers and cicada, someone's pet rat (the person was searching within earshot and 'Socks' was collected forthwith), a beanie baby that had me fooled for a hit minute too, a marmot which I didn't know lived down here, a groundhog which I didn't know lived up here, a mink, so many toads, a wild turkey chick, so many more garter snakes and last night, an aquatic shrew.

I don't know if there's an Audubon Society for small things that scuttle around in the undergrowth, but I am inclined to join solely to get Charleston recognition for his service in surveying them.

#dogs #Charleston Chew #Arwen the crime dog #Herschel the Hanukkah Goblin #family lore

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rjzimmerman · 2 years

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Excerpt from this Washington Post story:

It thrives in the cold and dark, infesting the muzzles of sleeping bats. The deadly fungus hops from bat to bat, stirring the winged mammals from their winter slumber while they cluster in caves. It can drive bats to dehydration and starvation, leaving cave floors littered with carcasses.

The U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service on Tuesday announced it would propose adding the tricolored bat, one of several species affected by the deadly fungus, to its list of endangered species. The bat’s population has declined so dramatically over the past decade that it may now vanish from the wild.

The decision by federal wildlife managers underscores the threat of extinction facing hundreds of thousands of species worldwide. The decline of bats in particular — due in part to deadly disease, as well as other harms — threatens to upend ecosystems and hurt farms that rely on the voracious insect-eaters as pest control.

The culprit harming these bats is known as white-nose syndrome, a nonnative fungus first discovered about 15 years ago in an Upstate New York cave that has since spread across more than half the bat’s range. Sick bats — with fuzzy growths on their noses — have been found from the Atlantic coast to the foothills of the Rockies, with impacted colonies seeing declines of more than 90 percent.

“It’s pretty heartbreaking to go in and see what were once huge colonies of bats that are now struggling,” said Jonathan Reichard, the national white-nose syndrome assistant coordinator at the Fish and Wildlife Service, describing caves where he would see “dying bats crawling around in the snow.”

#tri-colored bat #extinction #Endangered Species Act #white-nose syndrome

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timmurleyart · 1 year

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Bubblegum bat. 🟣🔴🦇🟠(Mixed media on paper)🍬

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lovebugism · 10 months

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stevie smut based on those boat photos is not a want, but a need

18+

Steve’s initial glimmers gold on your sun-kissed skin — a swirled S in the middle of a dainty chain.

Despite its simple statement, you know it must’ve cost him a fortune. That’s not to say he even noticed the small dent it made in his bank account, of course. You know he bought it for you without thinking twice. But to you, still a broke college student at heart, the tiny thing feels so much heavier.

Imposter syndrome creeps up your spine like the cold hand of a ghost.

Just yesterday, you were studying for finals, and now you’re on a yacht off the coast of Venice. Six months ago, you were living in a slum of a studio apartment on a top ramen only diet. Now you’re in Italy, with real gold around your neck, on a boat that wasn’t yours, drinking wine you didn’t pay for.

You know it’s all because of Steve just as much as you know he’s doing this for you because he loves you. You just can’t believe that it’s happening to you.

What did you do to deserve any of this? To deserve Steve? What could you possibly give him in return to show how grateful you are for all of it? What do you give him that he can’t already buy?

“What are you thinking about, hm?” the boy himself questions as he appears in front of the leather couch you’re lounging on. He holds two glasses in his hands, one full of whiskey and the other white wine. He hands the latter off to you.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you hum innocently in return. Your sundress falls to your lap when your knees bend to invite him next to you. His arm curls around your legs to pull them back over his khaki-clad lap when he sits down. His hand rests on your bare thigh.

“You know what I’m talking about,” he argues, squeezing softly at the plush skin — not enough to hurt you, but enough to make you giggle into your wine. “You’re doing the thinking face.”

“I am not doing the thinking face.”

“You so are,” he counters with a gentle grin and sparkling eyes. You didn’t think unbelievably wealthy guys could be as cute as he was. “What is it? Are you hungry?”

You shake your head against the pillow. “No. I’m good.”

“Do you feel okay? Are you seasick?”

His tone is soft with concern. He’s already got himself all worried.

Steve’s hand leaves your thigh to push his sunglasses to the top of his head, forcing his honey locks back in the process. A few ornery strands still hang over his forehead. His chocolate eyes, deeper than a thousand oceans, melt with concern. “Do you need me to call another boat? Should we go back to the hotel—”

Your giggling puts an end to his panicked rambling. He squints while you hide your smile with your wine glass. “What?” he lilts with a smile, still halfway worried that you’re coming down with sunstroke.

“Nothing,” you hum when the laughing fit ebbs like a low tide. You tilt your head to your shoulder and smile. “I just love you.”

You swear you see him sigh in relief.

“Oh, you’re just lovesick, huh? That it?”

The way he coos at you — sounding almost degrading even though you know he’s only joking — makes your thighs squeeze shut. His warm fingers are caught between them.

“Very,” you nod like you’re proud to be. Because you are.

You’re lucky to love a guy like Steve. Even luckier that he loves you back.

Wind whips through the collar of his white button-up as he props his elbow on the back of the couch, facing you more. The top of his shirt is unclasped to reveal the cinnamon scruff on his chest that he also sports on his unshaven jaw.

He’s too hot to smile so sweetly down at you.

“Sorry,” he apologizes, obviously insincere as he scrunches his nose. “Think I might’ve given you the lovebug…”

You shrug. “’S okay.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah… As long as you stay sick with it forever.”

Steve’s sculpted features melt as he gazes down at you. He goes kind like he’s about to tell you how stupid you are for even thinking he could be anything other than crazy for you.

Despite the strange angle, he begins to lean toward you, sitting his whiskey down on the glass table in the process. “Oh, honey, I’m gonna be sick over you for the rest of my life.”

“Ew,” you giggle at his wording, reaching for his stubbly cheek anyway. You scoot slightly over to accommodate his body.

Your mouth puckers for an innocent kiss that he’s more than happy to give you — one, two, then three of them, to be exact. The fourth one is far too languid to be called a peck, too wet and too full of tongue.

You sigh against him at the tenderness of it, like a first love or a last one.

Steve’s hand is still pressed between your warm thighs, still trapped between them lest he think about moving it. His other bends at the elbow to prop himself up. It’s not like he’s going anywhere anyway, not from where he’s squished between your body and the back of the couch — with your legs thrown over him and your free hand clutching his face to yours. The other is wrapped around his neck and still holding your wine.

You lick sinfully into his mouth, like a kitten to milk, just before you part from him.

“Wanna buy you a necklace, too,” you tell him, breathless and quiet and seemingly out of the blue.

A crooked smile quirks on the right side of his rosy mouth. He knows you can’t afford it. The thought is cute, anyway. “Yeah?”

You nod, bottom lip caught between your teeth as your hand curls around the base of his neck. You can feel the thrumming of his pulse against your thumb.

“Wanna put my initial here,” you confess lowly, glassy eyes never leaving his honeyed ones. “Want everyone to know you’re mine, too.”

“Too?” he echoes with a smile, too full of love to be smug. His hand twists between your thighs and moves like syrup beneath your dress. He cups your bikini-clad cunt and grins. “‘Cause you’re mine, huh? Is that it?”

You nod.

A moan leaves in a fragile sigh from your parted lips when his finger sneaks beneath the fabric. He rubs you, up and down one time, just to feel how wet you are and to smile when he finds you’re soaking.

“Always been,” you tell him through bated breaths.

“Always been.” He repeats it like a vow. When he leans down again, you think he’s going to kiss you. You’re heartbroken when his lips meet your warmed cheek.

You taste like lotion and sunshine, like new adventures and nostalgia.

“Let’s get you to a bed, yeah? So you can show me who I belong to.”

He says it like a courtesy, like he’s giving you an ounce of the power he normally keeps for himself. But you know your place. You know he’ll ruin you soon enough. You’ll forget your own name before you can make him repeat it for you.

You love it.

Steve rises off you and extends a hand to help you up, too. You trail happily behind him, knowing where he’s leading you — what he’s leading you to.

Your glasses sit abandoned beside one another, going warm beneath an orange sun.

—————

“God, honey. Fuck,” Steve swears.

His grunts mix with the sinful slapping of your thighs against his lap. His happy trail and trimmed bush are soaked with the slick you drip for him. He squeezes the plush of your hips to help guide you up and down over his cock.

“Takin’ my dick like a fuckin’ champ, baby. Like you were made for it, huh?”

You nod, slacked mouth and panting. Little whimpers spill from your swollen lips every time you move down over him, every time he hits the spongy spot deep within you that only he could ever reach. It feels like so many little strikes of purple lightning — too much to bear, but still not enough.

His golden initial sways above your breasts as your tits bounce in front of his face. He desperately wants a taste of you, to take your stiff nipple into his mouth, but he doesn’t want to take his eyes off you.

“You’re so pretty, honey, you know that?” he babbles, heavy eyes flitting back up to your fucked-out face. It’s hard to talk with your snug cunt squeezing him somehow tighter. His words spill through gritted teeth. “Pussy’s pretty, too. And so— fuck— so good for me. Shit, honey… ‘M gonna come if you keep riding me like this…”

You moan in a delicate cry at his admission. Pride swells in your chest to know you’re making your boy feel as good as you do.

One hand clutches the pillow beside his head while the other takes purchase on his neck, the place you’ve got a newfound adoration for. You don’t choke him, though. You’re too gentle for all that. But not so gentle that you don’t know how to kiss him breathless.

Your mouth engulfs his own, swallowing him whole and making him forget whose air he’s breathing.

His hands trail from your hips to your ass. He grips the fattiest part with wide, warm palms and spreads them apart. He imagines how his cock must look sinking into you, shining with your honey and his pearly pre-come. He imagines your fluttering cunt swiping against his heavy balls.

You hear him spank you before you feel it.

The smack comes just before the high heat that blooms across your right asscheek. “Steve,” you moan, unabashedly needy for him as ride him harder than you had been just before. The way he hit you felt like encouragement, rough but still tender.

The bed begins to rock beneath you like the yacht your man has put you on and the bright blue sea that carries the two of you.

Your wet cunt sucks his cock inside of you, taking him deeper and deeper even though the feeling of him so far within you borders on painful. Desperate and whining for him, you keep taking him like you were made to do it.

Because you were.

“Yeah, keep bouncing, honey. Doing so good for me,” he manages a fucked-out smile when low squelches start to fill the lavish studio. “Pussy’s perfect baby— god, fuck.”

He cuts himself off with a groan when you tighten around him, tossing his head back on the fluffy pillow that you grip for dear life.

“No pussy’s ever been this good for me, you know that? Always so good… How am I— shit— How am I ever supposed to stop fucking you, huh?”

“Don’t,” you squeak out. It’s the first intelligible thing you’ve said since you started riding him. You pout, scrunched browed and jutted lip, as your orgasm creeps up your sweat-slick spine. “Don’t want you to ever stop fucking me.”

Steve nearly bursts right then.

He doesn’t mean to take over — to hold your hips still and prop you above him while he plants his feet on the mattress. He doesn’t mean to fuck up into you, but he’s gone just as stupid as you have. His cock twitches and jerks within your snug pussy, and he wants so desperately to come. More than that, he wants to make you come like he knows you’re bound to.

“Yeah? You love my dick, don’t you?” he laughs through bated breaths — like he isn’t rightfully dumb over your pussy. “You always get so slutty for it.”

You don’t know if you want to protest or agree with him. All you do is moan as your fingers dig into his furry chest. The wet slap of his balls against your ass entwines with your cries and his taunts.

“Yeah, you do,” Steve coos, jaw clenched and brows furrowed. He still talks so softly to you like he isn’t fucking you for all you’re worth. “Go ahead, honey, cream on my dick. Make a mess for me… Gonna sit you on my face after, okay? I bet you’ll taste so sweet for me when I’m done with you.”

Your mouth falls in a silent cry. Your pussy spasms around him at the thought of his mouth between your legs, slurping at your honey and his come that leaks from your gaping hole.

“Get yourself there for me, baby,” he commands in a gentle murmur. “Take this dick. Take what you’re given—”

And just like always, you do.

You orgasm on his stiff cock a second later — not coming, but gushing. His heavy cock jerks inside you right after, spitting several warm loads into your trembling cunt.

His wide hands find purchase on your sweat-slick back, holding you to his scruffy chest while his hips buck against you, pushing his dick as far as you’ll take him. And, like the good girl you are, you take him all the way.

You take everything he gives you — come, orgasms, and gold necklaces alike.

When your senses return and your heavy breaths go even, Steve feels you smile against his neck. He thinks he must have fucked you so sufficiently stupid that all you can do is grin through the rippling aftershocks of your high.

That’s only half true.

You just know that he’s worked up an appetite after having fucked you so ardently. And you figure he won’t need a piece of jewelry with your initial on it when he’s wearing your come on his chin.

#published by bug #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington smut #stranger things x reader #steve harrington x y/n #stranger things smut #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #stranger things imagine #stranger things fanfic #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington #stranger things #steve harrington fic #stevie drabble #st drabbles

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hannibals-favourite-meal · 5 months

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.⋆｡You're Gonna Go Far｡⋆.

Batsis!reader

We ain't angry at you, love You're the greatest thing we've lost

Warnings: older sister syndrome, angst, mentions of Jason’s death (seriously Lou not every fic), hurt/comfort, all platonic

Stick Season (We'll All Be Here Forever)

The letter in your hands felt far heavier than the small envelope of papers should have felt. You knew already what it said, what it meant and by god it was tempting to just shove it into your desk drawer and forget about it.

But you couldn’t forget, not when the words inked on those white pages meant that you could finally follow your dreams. Your thumb traced along the emblem at the top right corner of the letter as you read over the excited paragraph of acceptance yet again. It was a spur of the moment thing, a brief lapse into insanity when everything got to be too much and now, the consequences had come.

Could you go? Could you really leave all this behind and do the things you’ve always wanted to do? The seed of hope began to sprout in your chest, slowly weaving through the years of responsibility and obligation you had used to bury it as deep as you could.

But then, you heard muffled arguments through your bedroom door, seeping in like a thick fog. It brushed against your feet, sending a freezing chill through your body. It licked at your fingertips until you couldn’t stand the cold.

Quickly, you shoved the envelope and the letter into the bottom of your trashcan and stood. “What are you fuckheads fighting about this time?” Your siblings responded with more shouting and as you left your bedroom, you doused that little bit of hope with the poison of your duty.

——————

“What did you want to be when you grew up?” The question hung in the stale air for a moment, looming over you as you worked on sharpening Damian’s favourite sword. Your father was sitting at the massive wall of screens, wearing all of his uniform except for the cowl. A pensive look on his face, he seemingly couldn’t meet your eyes.

“A dinosaur cowboy rockstar.” You snipped back. The letter flashed through your mind but disappeared quickly enough with another pull of the blade against the sharpening stone. Bruce’s brow furrowed.

“You know that’s not what I meant.” You sighed heavily through your nose as your shoulders tensed with the blowout that was about to happen. His eyes pierced into you, watching you with that same bit of intensity they had the first time you donned the Robin suit.

The leather hilt of the blade creaked with the strength of your grip and the cave settled into a tense silence. But you couldn’t feel that anger that you used to when he asked that question any time before, all you felt was that overwhelming, devastating sadness of what your life could have been.

The first time was when Dick left; Bruce wanted comfort, to know that what he had condemned you and your brother to do was right. You had swallowed down that anger, the urge to scream at him and blame him for everything in favour of telling him exactly what he wanted to hear. “I’ve always wanted to help people and being Robin was the best thing I could be.”

It was after Jason’s funeral when he asked next. Your eyes were still swollen with your tears, your shirt ruined from where Dick had been clinging to you and the bruises from the explosion that took your little brother not yet healed. You had refused to answer him, just telling him to get some rest and that the mantle of Batman would be yours until Alfred determined him fit for the field once more.

You supposed this time had been brought on by Tim’s departure to college barely a week ago. The house was noticeably dimmer without the boy genius and it had quite obviously been affecting your father. You nor Dick or Jason ever got the chance to go to college so it was a massive change.

The bite of your nails into the palm of your hand brought you back into focus where your father was watching you, unblinking. Bruce was a patient man, you’ll give him that.

“Why exactly does it matter? I have a job to do here- protect my brothers, protect the city, protect you in that order, just like you taught me.” His flinch was almost imperceptible to the untrained eye but you were far from untrained.

“Is that really what you want out of your life?” He was probing for something and you didn’t really care. The blade slid easily back into its sheath as you approached the wall of weaponry behind you.

“What I may want isn’t relevant here, I’m doing what I can- is that enough for you?” With more force than necessary, you slammed the sword into place, turning your back on your father. “I have shit to do, call me if you need backup.”

——————

You had been avoiding your room like the plague for three days now. Each time you stepped foot in there, all you could think about was the letter and how the deadline for the offer was drawing ever closer. The easiest solution would just be to throw it out or even calling the university to tell them that you were declining their offer but the easy way of doing things was not your style.

Instead, you started staying up all night and crashing on the couch whenever you needed a power nap. You weren’t dense enough to think that your family hadn’t noticed your change in behaviour but they at least didn’t mention it and you were grateful for that.

“Hey Dams, I need you for a second.” Ever eager to avoid his homework, your youngest brother perked up, his undivided attention now firmly on you. You chuckled softly. “Can you go grab my charger from my room, it should be on my desk.”

“Tt, so forgetful.” He muttered but obeyed anyway, leaving you smiling softly as you returned to your book.

You hadn’t noticed how long he had been gone until it was Jason that strolled into your father’s office. Still donned in his leather jacket, hair still damp from the rain that had only just started, he looked like a mess. “I thought you vowed never to come back.” You quipped.

“Har har, you’re still annoying as shit I see.” But even with his harsh tone, Jason plopped himself next to you on the couch and leaned his head on your shoulder. “Are you ever gonna get outta here?”

Your eyes flicked to your not so little brother. “Why is everyone asking me that, I mean if you want me to move out, I can.” You brushed off with a laugh.

“You don’t have to stay y’a know, you can go if you want. No one would be angry at you.” Your heart clenched painfully in your chest. That little seedling of hope began to come back to life once again, tentatively putting out roots.

“Where would I go Jay-bird?” He shook his head, forcing his face into your neck just like he would do when he was little.

“Anywhere, somewhere far from here.”

“But then who would be around to protect you Robins hm?”

“We aren’t little anymore, we can take care of ourselves.” You wrapped an arm around his broad shoulders and kissed the top of his head. Before you could respond, the office door opened once more and most of the rest of your family filed in.

Each of them looked haunted and almost withdrawn, save for Damian who angrily stomped over to you, and shoved Jason off of you so he could crawl onto your lap. “Who died?” You let your youngest brother wrap your arms around him as you made eye contact with your father.

But it was Dick that stepped forward, a piece of paper in his hands. “Why didn’t you tell us?” His voice shook with that unique mixture of rage and heartbreak that it seemed only he could perfect. The paper trembled in his hands, making the embossment at the top visible.

You poked Damian on his side. “I told you to stop looking through my stuff, you little shit.”

“Couldn’t find your charger.” He responded indigently, his fingers curling into your shirt.

“This is a big deal miss, not just anyone gets into this university.” Alfred, ever the peacemaker, laid a hand on Dick’s shoulder. “You should have told us.”

“It’s nothing, it was a lapse of judgement. I wouldn’t leave you all.” You brushed off but evidently, that wasn’t good enough for anyone. Dick and Jason scoffed while Bruce just looked like he was about to cry.

“You could go, leave this place and you’re giving it up for some idea that we need protecting? That’s fucking stupid.” Jason shoved himself away from you, angrily rising to his feet as he ran a hand through his hair. “You have a real shot here.”

“Is that what this is, some kind of fucking intervention? My life is my own thank you very much, I don’t need all of you telling me what I can or cannot do.” You tried to pry Damian from you in some vain attempt to get away from the conversation but that sneaky shit had dug his fingers into your shirt so tightly that there was no way you were getting him off of you without ripping off your shirt.

The roots were taking hold and it made you feel like shit. Who were you to leave this all behind when it could so easily be ripped away from you? You were needed here, your purpose was here not at some college where you couldn’t be there to protect your brothers.

“We’ll be ok, you can go.” You shook your head, biting back tears that were already building. Bruce came closer, taking your face between his hands. “I have put too much on you, I should have realised long ago. I’m sorry Birdie.”

“You haven’t called me that since I was 12.” Your father laughed sadly.

“Oh my girl, I haven’t been a good father to you have I?” His calloused thumbs wiped away the tears that you hadn’t realised were now steadily rolling down your full cheeks.

“You were never a good dad.” Jason scoffed which was quickly followed by a yelp as Dick elbowed him in the stomach.

“They’re having a moment.”

“I put so much weight on your shoulders, it was my job to protect all of you but I don’t think I’ve done a very good job at that. This shouldn’t be your dream, you deserve to make a life for yourself without having to worry about all of us.” It was so strange to see your father laid so bare in front of you, freely admitting his mistakes. “You deserve so much more than this.”

You looked at your brothers as if they would give you some excuse to stay, to reject that offer but their faces remained stern if not a little sad. “You can go sis.” Dick nodded.

“You’ve done more than enough for us, I think it’s time that we pick up the slack.” Jason bumped him with his shoulder and gave you a big grin. “Besides, I think it would be nice for you to actually have a social life instead of nagging us all the time.”

Alfred spoke again. “I believe what Master Jason is trying to say is that we won’t hold you back from chasing your dreams. In fact, we are actually quite proud of you.”

A solid weight against your chest brought your gaze back down to the youngest of the group. “Damian?” You knew that boy was incredibly attached to you and would take some kind of issue with you leaving to go study somewhere else.

“If you don’t go, I will never talk to you again.”

“Well I guess that settles it.” You said thickly, struggling to speak through the lump in your throat. “I’m going to college!” Bruce didn’t hesitate to scoop you into his arms in a hug so tight you felt your ribs creak. Damian whined a slight protest but made no move to slip out from your arms.

“Good because Tim already accepted the offer for you, you start in a couple months.” As your laughter filled the room, the hope in your chest blossomed, casting your guilt and pain into the shadows of its petals.

[Verse 1] The only time I got to praying for a red light Was when I saw your destination as a deadline "This is normal conversation, babe, it's all fine" Making quiet calculations where the fault lies This is good land, or at least it was It takes a strong hand and a sound mind [Verse 2] The college kids are getting so young, ain't they? They're correcting all the grammar on a spray paint And I even gave up driving after nightfall I got tired of the frat boys with their brights on This is good land, or at least it was It takes a strong hand and a sound mind [Pre-Chorus] It makes me smile to know when things get hard Ooh-ooh, you'll be far Ooh-ooh, you'll bе far from here And, while I clеan shit up in the yard Ooh-ooh, you'll be far Ooh-ooh, you'll be far, far from here [Chorus] So, pack up your car, put a hand on your heart Say whatever you feel, be wherever you are We ain't angry at you, love You're the greatest thing we've lost The birds will still sing Your folks will still fight The boards will still creak The leaves will still die We ain't angry at you, love We'll be waiting for you, love [Post-Chorus] And we'll all be here forever And we'll all be here forever We sure will [Verse 3] We're overdue for a revival We spent so long just getting by That's the thing about survival Who the hell— who the hell likes livin' just to die? You told me you would make a difference Well, I got drunk and shut you down It won't be by your own volition If you step foot outside this town But it's all we've had For always [Chorus] So, pack up your car, put a hand on your heart Say whatever you feel, be wherever you are We ain't angry at you, love You're the greatest thing we've lost The birds will still sing Your folks will still fight The boards will still creek The leaves will still die We ain't angry at you, love We'll be waiting for you, love [Post-Chorus] And we'll all be here forever And we'll all be here forever [Outro] You're gonna go far You're gonna go far You're gonna go far You're gonna go far Yes, you are (Ooh-ooh) If you wanna go far Then you gotta go far

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