#it turned out fine but I panicked

[casiavium]

Me, pre dr appointment: okay. Gender neutral language. I have a single consistent partner and we do not engage in penetration that can result in pregnancy

The nurse: okay if you could just take this pregnancy test for us just to make sure—

Me: oh. I have a girlfriend

[silksongeveryday]

Drawing Hornet everyday until Silksong comes out - Day 398

yep I totally didn’t forget that day 400 is less than two days away and I totally have the thing I was planning for it prepared 👍👍👍👍👍 /sarc

[owlbelly]

ughhhhhhhh

so. adding to the list of "maintenance things nobody tells you about before you have a house" - if you have a well, it's likely you have a filter near the tank where the water comes into your house, and that filter needs its cartridges changed. how often? for a whole house filter, apparently 6 months to a year. how long have we lived in this house without being aware of needing to change the filter?

mmm, about 5 years. do i think the people who lived here for 2 years before us ever changed the filter? absolutely not

so we're at least 5, maybe more like 7 years overdue to change the filter, and today after collecting everything we needed to do it (including a strap wrench because the filter casing was so incredibly fused on - we have very hard water), going through the process exactly like the plumbers on the instructional videos,

we fucking broke it somehow & had to shut the water off. we can't even bypass the filter without a leak. we have no running water & our plumber is apparently in Boston for the weekend!! why did i decide to do this today!!!!

[piplupod]

i was so hoping that survival instincts would kick in to break through dissociative fog while driving but nooooo apparently that doesn't happen. shoutout to my dad who let me stop driving at our first destination and took over for the rest of the journey 🙏 kind of reeling that I very easily could've died today and likely came somewhat close to it but uhm. I didn't! so that's good(?)!

[vilelittlecritter]

Me: "I don't like people, I prefer being on my own and not talking"

People: "oh okay we'll leave you be then"

Me: "wait no PLEASE COME BACK I WANT LOVE-"

[because-its-eurovision]

Just in case no one told you today: I believe in you 🌻

Thank yooouuu I needed this today 🥺🌻

[deus-ex-mona]

my day in two pictures:

[emometalhead]

.

[s1lver-soul]

ok i lied

[cursedxartist]

Woah tumblr completely changed the order that my following / followers lists were in on mobile. They’re completely jumbled.

[stuck-in-the-ghost-zone]

ohhh the paranoia hitting BAD tonight

[mymadmedleyw]

-(totally unrelated-to-everything-that-are-going-on) real-life situation but I am freaking out, so irl rant-

Wish me luck! 🍀

Tomorrow morning I'll have a talking with the institution I'd like to study from February. And I'm totally panicking right now.

(And I really hope the administrational site for my application won't be glitchy - the deadline for everything is midnight. I uploaded every necessary document which I have in my possession but the page still says those are 'under processing'. - which about I have a constant 'mild' panic and I couldn't sleep at all.)

Anyway, just now, trying to figure out what they will ask tomorrow from me, I wrote a little draft about my related knowledge and experience in the field that my hoped studies are. I tried to seem wise with the wordings but damn, writing anything more serious is much more harder than writing fics - where I rarely care about to be seemed smart.

Good thing is though, that writing in English and having half of my thoughts in English by now (due to writing fics through the past few years) meant help, but still. This is much more different now!

I'm freaking out. This is what I want. And this is what I want since I finished my BSc studies last year. But I am so scared about it right now when finally MSc is an armreach away. I'm excited but at the same time damn scared.

(Sorry, I had to let this out...)

Once I'll have that talk tomorrow, and once the administration is done too, everything depends on the other candidates and on their points. I don't dare to say that everything is a straight path from there but people are not really that masochistic to learn Master's Finance in a foreign (2nd) language... So, (I hope) that I don't have to much to worry about since that point.

But I am panicking now and I fear to have a panic attack about it. Just imagine the green light: once, I am in, I have to give my 100%+ focus on my studies to understand it, then, during the last semesters write a thesis in English. No wonder I'm panicking...

This is my dream for a while, but still. What the hell!

[touyasdoll]

not even 10 am and I’ve already had to put out a literal fire. I want to go back to bed.

[ech0light]

being able to continue dreams once youre somewhat half awake is all fun and games until you manage to scare yourself fully awake and have to calm yourself down afterwards

[confused-and-dickless]

(to the tune of "Where Are You Christmas from The Grinch)

Where is my boyfriend

Why can't I find him

What the fuck is happening

[deadsetobsessions]

He could overlook a lot of things, but this was getting ridiculous. You’d think seasoned vigilantes would have better excuses prepared, but Danny had caught that flash of panic that crossed Tim’s face as Danny came face to face with Tim dragging an unconscious Steph to her designated room in the manor.

“Uh.”

“Danny! Uh, Stephanie brained herself- uh, sliding down the bannisters and- pleasedon’ttellBruce.”

Danny blinks, staring at Tim and then very pointedly, very slowly, turned his head back towards the direction he came from: the main hall… where the bannisters were. He wonders what vigilante hijinks they were trying to hide from B this time.

Tim coughs, trying to inch Stephanie away. “Uh. She was doing… cartwheels?”

Danny let his eyes slowly take in the bruises that were clearly not from “cartwheeling in the mansion” on the both of them. There’s a huge bandaged cut on Steph’s forearm and a giant bruise on the edge of Tim’s jaw. Tim’s face twitches nervously, not that anyone else would have noticed- except Danny has enhanced ghost senses and could feel the panic coming off of his adopted brother.

“You know…” Shit, what does he do? Not knowing would be so much easier if these idiots gave him good excuses! “I don’t think I want to know what you two have been up to… but should I be worried for your, uh, physical health?”

“Nope!”

“… Okay.” He says. Tim opens his mouth to make further excuses but Danny adds quickly, “But don’t tell me, because if Bruce asks, I want plausible deniability.”

Cartwheels, Danny’s ghostly ass. Luckily, this show of doubt reaffirms Tim’s belief that Danny believes them all of the other times. Danny grins inwardly, planning capitalizing on the guilt that flashed over Tim’s face.

“Deal.”

“Want help?” The halfa points at Steph, who’s still being dragged over the carpet by a noodle armed Tim. Danny knows Tim’s strong, he’s a vigilante, but it’s funny watching him pretend to struggle.

“Please. I’m so tired right now.” He looks it too. Danny’s brows furrow with genuine concern when he takes in Tim’s drowned raccoon look. He picks up Steph, firmly removing her from Tim’s suddenly weak grip. Being careful to avoid her injuries, Danny nods at the door to her room. Tim cracks it open and does a little showy gesture towards the inside.

“C’mon, we’ll tuck her in and then I’ll tuck you in.”

“What, you don’t have to do that.”

“If you don’t let me tuck you in and make sure you sleep, I’ll tell Alfred who really accidentally poured boiling hot coffee on his azaleas last week. And I’ll sic Dick on you and tell him you haven’t been sleeping enough.”

“You drive a hard bargain,” Tim grumbles. “But fine. It’s really not my fault I’m this tired. A missing spleen is hard to handle, you know.”

“Yeah, missing an organ sucks,” Danny says, shit eating grin hidden long enough to catch the contemplative bloodhound look that passes over Tim’s face.

“Which- uh, which one of your organs is missing?”

“Liver.” Danny says, remembering the flashes of pain. He tilts his head away to hide the grin at Tim’s panicked face.

When he tucks Tim in, he pretends to believe Tim’s sleeping act and left his room while mumbling about the Wayne’s clumsiness and bruises and stocking up on bruise cream. He couldn’t even enjoy Tim’s floundering, this time, worried as he is.

——

“Brother.” Danny half turns his head, just to beam a sunny smile at Cass. He signs an exuberant hello. The halfa hangs up his coat as he addresses his adopted sister.

“Cass! What’s up?”

“Dinner.” She smiles back, signing that Alfred wanted them to the dinning room post haste. The main dining room, because rich people were fruit loops and Batman is totally included. Cassandra looks down and gasps.

What…?

Oh. Fuck. Danny glances down. He genuinely forgot about that.

“Huh.”

“Okay?” Suddenly, Cass is right next to him, hand reached out and hovering over the actual knife Danny forgot was sticking out of him. At least it’s where his liver should be, so he won’t have to pretend.

“Oh. Yeah, I’m good. Don’t have a liver.” Danny decides on the spot that he’s not gonna mess with Cass. She smiled the same as him. “Got mugged on the way back but I think they said I could keep the knife, right?”

“Danny.” She’s frowning at him. He feels like he just kicked tiny Cujo. But he doesn’t feel bad enough to blurt everything out.

“Here. You can have it if you want?” Danny casually pulls out the knife and holds the wound together with his bare hands. Cass looks more alarmed. She bodily picks up Danny and starts running.

“Woah!”

Cass throws him at Alfred, gently.

“Miss Cassandra! Why, I never-!” Alfred pauses in surprise.

“Uh. Wow, Cass. You’re really strong.” Danny pipes up, hand still over his gushing wound.

She ignores him, pointing at Danny and telling Alfred, “Hurt. Got mugged. Dumb.”

“Hey! It’s not my fault Gothamites are ready to jump people at any moment. Besides, it’s daytime. It’s not like the vigilante furries are out to save my butt. I think I did really well coming back safe, you know?”

“Hurt. Forgot the knife. Was in him.”

“Master Danny!”

Danny pouts. He also knows there’s a discreet camera in the corners of the sitting room, so he’s definitely hoping he could phase into the cave when Barbara eventually tells the group that he called them “vigilante furries.”

Alfred clucks his tongue and set to work patching him up. Danny tries not to bask in the careful way Alfred tended to his wounds. It reminds him too much of Jazz, if Jazz was British and a man with greying hair.

But because they were watching him and he was watching them in return, Danny noticed the moment Alfred’s hands stalled and Cass’ gaze got intense. What now…?

Oh, fuck, his vivisection scar. Oops. Danny smiled, channeling Dani (his lovely clone sister) at her most innocent.

Cass smiled back, just as sunnily, fists tightening at her side in repressed fury.

——

“Cass? Why’d you call us?”

“Yeah, baby bat. I got a couple o’ smugglers to talk to.”

Cass paces.

“What is it, Cassandra?” Damian tuts impatiently.

“Danny. Has… scars. Autopsy. But was struggling. When cut.”

“What.”

“A vivisection, Master Jason.” Alfred’s voice was crisp and eerily cold. His hands are folded, rage only held back by his sheer will and a well practiced sense of propriety.

“We find. Who hurt him,” Cass snarls. “We. End.”

Jason’s eyes glint green, hands going to his guns. “Fine. By. Me.”

“It does tie in with the dead comment. I wonder what happened to him.” Tim clacks away at the bat computer, furiously looking into the matter already. Bruce has taken to prowling, stressed out at the prospect of one more of his children- not a vigilante at that- getting hurt the way Jason had. Worse, even. A vivisection. He was alive, dissected. Aware enough to struggle. Dick looked like he was torn about hunting down and lunging at whoever hurt Danny to rip their throats out with his bare teeth versus the urge to go back up to the manor and wrap Danny in bubble wrap.

In the corner, Danny was having a quiet breakdown because he came here to watch them react to vigilante furries, not offering to murder the people who vivisected him. What the fuck?? He ran his hands through his hair, invisible.

——

“Oh, by the way, we should consider more daytime shifts.”

“Why?” Spoiler asks Barbara.

“Danny got mugged. And called us the nightly furries.”

“The fuckin’ what-?” Jason chokes out, laughing. Bruce stops his pacing, body language becoming slightly offended.

Danny muffles a laugh only Alfred would have heard.