Chameleon Moon

Words are important. They let you know it’s real, you’re fine, more people like you exist. They let you know you’re not alone.

They'll use guns and they'll use words, and the worst part of all is that you might listen when they say you're a freak or a monster, and you might start to believe it. But they are lying.

I want to keep people safe, so I try to learn all I can,” Evelyn said as her heart swelled with an intense feeling of recognition. “About minds, hearts, sexuality, gender, identity, your whole life, it’s all important… Wish I’d known a lot more a long time ago. It makes everything easier.” “Just having the words helps,” he said quietly. “Yeah,

The only time it's hopeless is when you're dead! Long as you're alive, you can get better - you can make it better.

Love yourself, love the people around you, and never give up. If you need help, reach out. If you’re drowning, make some noise. There are people who love you, who will throw you a life preserver. That’s what it all comes down to, love. That’s how we’re gonna get through this. And we are gonna get through this.

Your memory is… it’s like that song. You knew by heart once. And you will again. It’ll come back even if you don’t know the words right now. You do recognize it. It means you belong here—or we’re close. Wherever home is, we’ll find it.

Holy crap…” Regan whispered, awed and sick and proud at the same time. “She punched it in the face.

I wish bad brain stuff was an actual guy I could punch in the face. PTSD, panic attacks, anxiety, flashbacks, hallucinations, anything that gives you hell, could just send'em to me, I'd fight them all. [...] Stuff's a lot harder to fight when they're stuck in your own head." "Yeah... didn't stop me from trying, though.

Garrett Cole. “I hope that helped clear some things up.

Me too.” Danae sniffed. “And I’m scared. I’m exhausted. But it’s worth it. If I keep you alive, and keep Jack and Evelyn and everyone we love alive… It’s worth it, to be a soldier for a little while longer.” “It’s

Well… I want to get better,” he said quietly. “So whatever you can do for me, that’d just be great, okay? I don’t like not knowing where I am or what’s going on or—it feels like falling. I’m off-balance and I don’t like it. I know I could just ask people until I know everything but I want… I just want everything back, that’s all. So how do I get it back?” “Well,

He wasn’t sure how a teenager recently freed from a decade’s imprisonment in an inferno under a quarantined city had a more active social life than he did, though considering his own circle, he supposed he shouldn’t be surprised.

Remember, panic’s a guy, and we just punch him in the face.

It’s finally happened, babies. Parole is burning. They say we started out in a blaze of glory, and now we’re all going down in flames.