#writing and writing: During Disaster

[where-i-keep-my-sh-t]

9/29/24

My dad came in sometime early this morning to ask if I wanted to hunt for gas and stuff again. I declined. My older brothers went with- leaving me with my mother and the younger siblings.

I realized my mistake a little too late. With everyone being younger than me and it being my mom’s birthday… well shit. I could only hope they’d come back soon- I wasn’t looking forward to the truckload of responsibility that was about to befall me. 

Fortunately, I was able to avoid most of it. (7:31pm)

I only had to walk around with them once or twice- a downed magnolia and childish wonder makes quite an interesting mix! My younger brother had seen me pick up one of the magnolia ‘heads’ (what I call the seed pods) and we went back to collect more. My mother was happy to see them- and we went back for more, and more. We collected about maybe 3 or 4 pounds worth- and she showed us a video about how to properly treat the bright red beautiful seeds. 

That was nice, and then my dad came home. 

With the family back together, I took everyone on a walk around the neighborhood. It was fun- I actually ran into a peer who stayed in my neighborhood. He took me to his house and invited me inside- but I was watching my siblings and politely declined. 

The evening was fine until I returned home. As I said- I’m treated like a child at my parents’ house. I tried to relax and was threatened with physical harm. So I begrudgingly spent the rest of the day outside. It was kind of stupid- the younger kids played ball and I kept getting called out for “being on my ass”. 

I didn’t want to play ball. I’m too tired to pour all my rage into these paragraphs now- but it was frustrating at the time. We spent hours just doing pretty much nothing until finally my father allowed me to take another walk- we went by my peer’s house but he was inside.

When I came back- older brother in tow- I ate a handful of grapes and hopped in the car to go hunt for ice again. All in all, today hasn’t been all too eventful either.

The ice hunt was… unsuccessful. 

We came back home and I drew a little bit- touched up on a nice piece before I became restless. My mother made ramen for my younger brothers and hot dogs for myself and my older siblings. We don’t have a bedtime, but it gets too dark to want to do anything around 11 o clock. That and most of us need to be up in the morning to hunt for things like gas and ice, so staying up generally isn’t a good idea.

With my device powered off, I was fixing to go to sleep. But then my dad arrived- we were going out again a couple hours later to see if the ice joint had restocked. I volunteered to go with. Deviceless, I succumbed to a late night chat with my father, even if I was getting delirious.

One thing I’ll always admire about him is his patience- his kindness is like a flowing river; endless, ever pouring. He’s got a good head on his shoulders, even in his age, and I’m glad he’d passed one on to me, too. I haven’t been easy to raise, for goodness’ sake, but that man continues to amaze me with his resilience.

All the ice joints were either out of service or out of ice. Shitty, I guess. We went to a gas station and he bought me junk again- I’ve been on a bit of a drinking craze lately, likely due to my dehydration. Dr. Pepper cream soda might not’ve been the best choice, but it was the choice I made, along with some zebra cakes. 

I’d never had zebra cakes before- and to be honest I wasn’t missing out on anything catastrophic. As a sweet-tooth type of guy, I’d come to realize it was all sugar: just with different colors and shapes and sizes. They were still good, of course. But I decided I wasn’t going to eat anything else that night.

We finally stumbled across a gas station with ice around one o’clock. With a bag and some cups full, we went ahead on home. 

We had a lot of interesting conversation- I talked about my peers, my friends, some classmates I didn’t quite enjoy. He was very wise, of course. I need to appreciate what he says to me more, but I don’t know. It’s hard sometimes. I get angry and don’t want to listen. He gets angry and doesn’t give me a chance to speak. 

When we got back home it was around 2 am. I was going to sleep- but when it didn’t come easily I decided to note down the rest of my day.

Hopefully I don’t have to wake up too early to get stuff. 

[taddymason]

im back

[luxaofhesperides]

Can I please have meet cute/weird with mistaken villain! Danny (but really just a engineer and or chem student) and the one being put on investigation cause Danny is a day villain(not really)! Duke

Technically, Danny Fenton is innocent. Technically. 

Duke wants to give him the benefit of the doubt, especially since he’s having so much trouble finding solid evidence that Danny is stealing from a wide variety of people, but he’s been burned before by trying to see people as better than they were. It doesn’t change the fact that Oracle’s cameras keep spotting Danny right before a building on the street is broken into and something stolen. He’s always just walking down the sidewalk; no one has spotted him entering or exiting a building, but he’s around far too often to be unconnected to these burglaries. 

It doesn’t help that strange, petty crimes have been on the rise since Danny first arrived in Gotham. 

So.

Danny Fenton is technically innocent.

Duke is trying to prove that he’s not. 

Maybe I’m looking too closely, he thinks, going over Danny’s sparse file in the Hatch. Maybe Danny’s only one person in a bigger operation.

He could just be the lookout, the runner, the information gatherer who marks which buildings to hit. He may even be the scapegoat, the sacrificial lamb; Danny has no support in Gotham, no family, no job. There would be no one to help him if he got arrested or injured in a fight. He’s a freshman college student from Illinois who should be unprepared for life in Gotham but is somehow managing to survive like a native. 

There’s a lot about Danny that doesn’t add up. 

Duke has seen plenty of different people since he first went out as the Signal. He’s tried to be kind and give people the benefit of the doubt, but it leads to his loved ones being put in danger. Some people are truly evil, some working on a malicious agenda, some are misguided in their beliefs, and some are desperate people who see no other way to move forward.

He’s not sure yet which on Danny is, but he’s hoping Danny is just desperate and needs a little help to get out of a life of crime.

Which leads to the next problem: Duke has no idea what Danny is steal, or why. He hits both rich and poor folks, civilians and members of the mob, and once, notably, stole something right out of Cobblepot’s office. Allegedly, at least, since no one saw him enter or exit the office, not even the security cameras. 

But added to the whispers going around about a new group in Gotham snatching people up from the streets, and some strange green substances found in warehouses often raided by police for the frequent drug labs that pop up in them… 

It doesn’t look good for Danny. Especially when a few of the items he stole were found where people either vanished or where that green substance has been found.

A week of analysis in the Batcave and they still don’t know what it is. 

Both Damian and Jason suspected Lazarus water, but the composition was completely different. By the look of the molecular structure, it shouldn’t have been in a liquid form at all. 

All these findings lead back to one person who may have answers: Danny Fenton.

According to Tim, who’s already broken into Danny’s dorm room and checked over all the labs he has classes in, Danny has some concerning items in his possession. Various inventions and little metal knick-knacks put together by a practiced hand. He was also the one to find all the information that went into Danny’s file when it was first being made: social media posts, school report cards, news articles about his parents… everything. 

And then he had an emergency mission to take with the Titans that swept him out of Gotham leaving Duke to tackle this investigation on his own. 

He doesn’t have Tim’s natural skill in stalking and invading privacy. He hates breaking into people’s spaces and following them around, but needs must and he has to force himself to work through the discomfort. 

It’s a good thing he did, too. Danny’s leaving his dorm after his last afternoon class, hood up to hide his face and something held in the front pocket of his hoodie. He ducks around people on the sidewalk easily, almost as if he’s gliding through the crowd instead of walking. 

Duke follows from above, bending the light around him to hide him from sight. 

He walks for some time, weaving through alleys and streets as if he’s been in Gotham his whole life, leaving behind the university campus to head towards Otisberg. There’s something strange about the way Danny walks, as if he’s moving around people who aren’t there, guided by something Duke can’t hear. Even using his meta abilities doesn’t do much beyond show him where Danny’s going to be in the next few seconds. 

He continues to follow Danny on the rooftops, walking along the edge to keep him in sight. 

Then Danny stops behind an apartment building and tilts his head back to look up at it. He tilts his head to the side, then nods and looks around the empty alley. Duke crouches down, keeping his eyes on Danny in the hopes of catching him in the act—

Danny disappears.

Duke curses under his breath and jumps down from the roof, putting more strength into his abilities as soon as his feet touch the ground. 

The space where Danny was has a faint outline, oddly enough. He’s never seen that before. From it is a semi-transparent trail, smoke-like and a pale green leading into the building. It goes straight into a wall, as if Danny walked through it.

He can’t go in and search the entire apartment, but he can grapple up and take a look into the hallways to see where Danny’s heading. If he was looking up, then that’s where he should be heading. 

It doesn’t take any effort to scale the building. There are ledges and windowsills and plenty of handholds for him to propel himself off of, and paired with his powers, Duke is able to find the correct floor in just under two minutes. 

The green smoke slowly dances through the air of the ninth floor, on the east side of the building. If he’s been counting the rooms correctly, then the target of tonight’s burglary has to be apartment 924. 

The curtains are drawn on the window he makes his way over to, and his abilities don’t show him anything helpful for the immediate future. He hates going in blind, especially to a civilian’s home, but capturing Danny takes priority. Duke picks the lock and slides the window up slowly, making sure it stays quiet, then slips into an empty bedroom. 

He makes his way out into the hallway on silent feet, keeping a wary eye on the thin smoke strands of green, curling along the walls. The rest of the apartment is empty as well, pale sunlight slanting across the floor through the blinds. 

Everything is still and silent. Danny’s nowhere to be found. 

Did he miss Danny leaving, somehow? Was this a misdirect to get him out of the way while Danny stole from another location? Did he know Duke was following him?

But no, his ears pick up on the faint sound of clothes rustling. 

Cautiously, Duke turns towards the front door, where the door to the coat closet is open. He focuses on what’s going to happen in the next twenty seconds and sees Danny panic, then disappear from sight again, but a transparent outline of his body is visible just enough to show him where he runs to. Best not to spook him; Duke pulls at the light around him and bends it to hide him from sight.

Then he moves along the wall, getting around the open door without bumping into anyone or anything. 

A figure in front of the coats, shoving them to the side roughly, flickers in and out of view, almost like a reflection in water, distorted by ripples on the surface. 

Danny pops back into visibility suddenly, scowling at the coats. “Are you sure it’s in here?” he asks the empty air. 

There is no answer, but Danny acts like there is. He rolls his eyes and says, “It’s a favor. That I’m doing for you. I can literally stop right now and you wouldn’t be able to stop me.” He shoves aside another heavy winter coat, then sighs. “Why don’t you look for it, and then tell me where it is.”

He steps back and bumps into Duke.

Danny whirls around, eyes wide, and blast of green light has Duke crashing back into the wall, trying to blink spots out of his eyes. 

“Wait!” he yells, grabbing for Danny before he can run off. “I just wanna talk!”

“Standing right behind me like a serial killer does not make you look like someone who wants to talk!” Danny yells back, slipping through his hands like mist. 

“I just have a few questions!”

“Well, I have a question: why?!”

“Will you hold still, we’re being too loud!”

Danny escapes to the other side of the apartment, next to a window looking fully prepared to fling himself out of it. But he does stop yelling, so Duke is counting it as a success.

“Why is the Signal coming after me?” Danny asks, glaring at him suspiciously.

“Dude,” Duke says, “You’ve been seen outside of every single building that’s had a burglary since you first arrived in Gotham. All the Bats are after you, they just sent me because I’m the only one active during the day.”

“All the Bats?” Danny repeats, losing what little color he had in his face.

He looks legitimately scared, pale enough to be concerning, and Duke drops his guard and tries to relax the tension in the apartment. “I’m not gonna turn you into the cops or anything. I just had questions and you seem like the most likely person to have answers. That’s it.”

Danny still looks wary, ready to run at a moment’s notice, but he doesn’t leave when Duke approached casually, leaning his weight against the couch. 

“So,” he begins, “What’s the deal with all the thievery? It’s rarely something super rare or expensive.”

There’s a long few minutes where Danny doesn’t answer, looking anywhere but at Duke. Then he twitches a bit and glares off to the side, and says, “I taking items that are contaminated with ectoplasm to help ghosts move through the veil and leave Gotham.”

That tells him nothing! That just gives Duke more questions! But at least it’s an answer, the first one any of them have got.

“I think you’re gonna have to explain a little more.”

“Ghosts are real, alright?”

“Yes.”

Danny stops. Squints at him. “What do you mean, ‘yes’?”

“Ghosts are real,” Duke repeats, “There are a few who help heroes or are heroes themselves, but that’s more on the magic side of things so I’m not super familiar with it.”

“Magic,” Danny says slowly. “Sure, alright. Um. Yes, ghosts are real. And there are a ton in Gotham who need help moving on, but they’re too weak to get past the veil. Something about Gotham has made the veil super strong, so they need a little boost to get through. Additional ectoplasm bonded helps with that.”

“And that’s why you’re stealing random things?”

“The ghosts I help can kind of sense ectoplasm-infused things, but they need me to grab them since they can’t hold anything without a physical body.”

Duke nods slowly. “Okay, that’s starting to answer some things. We have found those objects in the last places missing people were seen. Any idea what’s going on with that?”

“Yeah, those people were already dead.”

The way Danny says the most concerning answers as if they’re nothing is really throwing Duke off his game. He was expecting to be calm and serious to keep Danny from freaking out too much and look like a legitimate hero. But as soon as Danny started talking, all his nerves fell away and Duke is left grasping for composure. 

“They were…”

“They were ghosts, yeah. And they needed to get through the veil. But they were also able to possess their own bodies and didn’t realize they were dead until I had to break the news to them, which is why it looks like living people just up and disappeared.”

“Okay… What about the green stuff we’ve been finding?”

“Ectoplasm.” Danny holds up a hand and a neon green light surrounds it. Except it looks more solid than light, as if it can be touched, and it moves on its own like fire around Danny’s fingers. “It’s what ghosts are made of.”

Oh. If Danny has ectoplasm, does that mean…

“Are you dead?” Duke asks, heart dropping. 

Instead of looking upset about the question, or even disturbed by it, Danny just shrugs and waves his hand back and forth. “A little.”

“Okay, so let me get this straight,” Duke says, trying to resist the urge to rub his temples. It’s a habit he didn’t mean to pick up from Batman, and it would just look silly with his helmet in the way. “You’re just doing all this to help ghosts?”

“Yeah. Basically. They asked for help man, of course I was going to help them.”

Danny’s a good person. He’s just a good person to ghosts. But this is good news either way, and he can let the others know that Danny isn’t the next Catwoman and is entirely unconnected from any drug production. Everything that made him look like a criminal is just the fault of ghosts. 

“Speaking of,” Danny continues, “Looks like they found what they need, so I’m going to grab that real quick.” He pushes off of the wall and heads for the closet again, moving past Duke without any fear. Duke follows, keeping a few feet of distance between them so Danny doesn’t feel trapped, and watches as he shoves aside the coats again and pulls a shoebox out of the depths of the closet. From it, he takes a single intricate lace headband and holds it up.

It looks normal, if a little old, but when Danny sends ectoplasm through it, the lace lights up and holds the glow. 

He pulls some strange contraption out of his pocket and holds it up to the headband. It makes a few beeps, then Danny mutters, “7.4 millisieverts. That’s enough to get you through the veil.”

Another concern Duke can let go of: Danny’s not creating weapons like his parents have, he’s just measuring ectoplasm through his own inventions. 

Maybe he could talk to Bruce or Tim about getting Danny an internship at the R&D lab in Wayne Enterprises? That way they could keep a closer eye on him while seeing what he can create in some of the best laboratories in the country.

Well, it might take having them meet Danny before they trust him enough for that, but Duke is sure he can make it happen. 

“I better go see this through, then,” Danny says, shoving the contraption back into his hoodie pocket. He gives Duke a small awkward wave, then pops out of visibility. “I’ll see you around, I guess?” he disembodied voice hedges, and Duke smiles.

“I’m sure I’ll be able to find you again.”

“Cool. I gonna go now!” 

He doesn’t see any sign that Danny’s left, but he gets a feeling that he’s alone now, the apartment suddenly emptier than it was before. 

As strange and concerning as Danny and all his bizarre actions were, Duke is glad he was able to finally talk to him and get some answers. Knowing how Gotham pulls people him in, it’s only a matter of time before the other Bats are exposed to Danny’s kind of strange. He’s already looking forward to it. 

For now, though, he has a file to update in the Hatch; POTENTIAL THREAT will be removed and replaced with GHOST HELPER. 

If anyone goes snooping into his files and gets confused, then that’s their problem. Duke’s explained enough. And Danny can take care of the rest, once they go through the effort of tracking him down. Duke's done his part, he's ready for the rest of them to step up to his level.

He can’t wait to see what other kind of trouble Danny can get it into.

[unicornpopcorn14]

Hc that Fem!skk have synchronized periods.

The interesting thing about this is while most people would think that would be a disaster, it's sort of a blessing.

Fem!Dazai would hide her period cramps and deny experiencing any effects, though at any chance of affection would go right for it because it sucks and hurts and any fraction of comfort is better than none.

Fem!Chuuya loves being held sm she just embraces anything and everything while crying sometimes from how cute the thing she's hugging is (especially if it's a plushie or a puppy). That's a monthly staple.

So combined, they become the most cuddly-infused monsters with Chuuya being all over Dazai and Dazai allowing it for how nice it feels.

And it's so funny because in their PMS stages they'd be at each other's fucking throats and so close to snapping each other's necks.

While the next day they're hugging and cuddling and being miserable together.

Fem!Mori just gives them that whole dreaded week off.

(And after that week passes they both deny ever being this affectionate. Every single month.)

[yuesya]

AR-26710 gasps, jerking up harshly.

Her hands fly to her chest, only to be met with a stretch of smooth skin. When that can’t be right, because the last thing she remembers is a sharp, chitinous leg tearing through her armor and goring into her midsection. Goring through her midsection, actually, and–

Glamoth Military Regulations, Article 22: Knights must give all they have to Her Majesty, the queen, including their lives.

–she’d been prepared for it. All knights of the Iron Cavalry are prepared to die, fighting in this war against the scourge descending from the stars upon Glamoth.

She’d been prepared for it.

And yet, a burst of terror had filled her all the same, when her torso had been carved open even despite the protection of her armor. Desperation, as she’d struggled to reconvene with her unit through the staggering pain of severe injury, knowing that she could not call for help through her broken communications network. That no one would see her through the burning wreckage, that she would only be one of many who fell in combat in this war against the endless Swarm.

There was glory in such a death. It should be an honor. Their creators have taught them this, again and again. AR-26710 knows this, as well as she does every groove and detail of her own armor.

… But if she’d been prepared to die, then what is this relief that she feels upon waking up again?

“You’re up.” The voice is steady and feminine, not unfeeling and robotic. It takes AR-26710 a moment to place the speaker’s identity: AR-1368. She’s the Personal Escort Model who’d been temporarily assigned command of the squad! Was she the one who–? “Take it easy. The Juvenile Sting nearly tore you apart by the time I got there. You sustained a lot of damage –the scientists almost decided to recycle you instead of properly putting you back together.”

AR-26710’s eyes widen.

AR-1368 sighs. Her lips curve into a tired smile, an attempt at reassurance. “Don’t worry. The only acceptable death for a Knight is out on the battlefield. I wasn’t going to let Her Majesty down.”

“Her… Majesty…?” AR-26710 repeats in confusion.

“How else do you think I found you?” AR-1368 arches an eyebrow. “Your communications were broken, and you were buried under tons of burning wreckage. Her Majesty guided me to recover you.”

“Her Majesty… guided you to find me?” For her? But AR-26710 has never… there are so many knights under the queen’s command. Why would Her Majesty… did she really…?

A memory flickers in her mind. Through the haze of blinding pain and darkness and the certainty of imminent death… there had been an odd sensation, briefly. The cold brush of a phantom hand against her forehead, blessedly cool and soothing, providing a single moment of clarity.

You’ll be alright.

That… had that been Her Majesty?

When AR-26710 snaps back to attention again, AR-1368 is looking at her with a knowing smile.

“Her Majesty,” AR-1368 says, “Will never forget us.”

[theofficialpeanutgallery]

My dad's been reading a book about pseudo-science that kinda goes into the sociology and history behind it, but today he informed me that Rome used prophetic chickens to make decisions on when to make attacks. Basically, if the chickens rushed out of their coop to gobble down their feed, it was an auspicious omen from the gods, indicating their favor for the planned decision.

Naturally, I had to find more sources- not because I thought he or the author of the book were lying, but because it's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard and I need to know more.

I was not let down. Generals and Senators consulted their chicken priests, and often a priest would be brought along with his flock on campaigns, according to Livy.

I am 100% going to be searching for academic articles about this subject later

[inawickedlittletown]

I debated answering this for many reasons including what is under the black because I'm not here to dox anyone...and then I decided to just make a post about it because when I first saw this I was pissed. I'm still pissed.

First off, are you seriously gloating that someone had to evacuate and may have lost their house just because you disagree on what they ship? And what actor they like?

Is that really what's happening here, because if so, you have to go out a reevaluate your life and your choices. Maybe do something productive to help all the people that have lost everything. Maybe go buy a meal for a firefighter. Maybe start a clothes drive. Maybe go donate what you can to help any of the many many people that are facing harrowing months and even years to get back what they just lost.

Instead, you're focusing on fandom nonsense and a blog and gloating over someone's misfortune and coming into my inbox (as well as many others I'm sure) to laugh about someone's misfortune just because they dared to call out all the hate and bullying that has gone on in this fandom just because so many of us decided to appreciate a character and an actor for what they portrayed on the screen canonically.

I don't know how you think it's such a gotcha to make fun of the money they donated to Trevor Project btw. I guess because you hate that our side of the fandom is doing positive things and raising over 10k for lgbtq+ charities.

And just so you know, instead of making people change their minds on liking Lou or shipping bucktommy, what you're doing is giving buddie fans a bad name. I used to ship buddie. I've written so many buddie fics that I still get comments on to this day, but I am so disgusted by what has become of that ship and that fandom.

And while you gloat about a person who ran a blog (just like all the rest of us) so many of the people that work on the show have been similarly affected or know people that have been affected. 9-1-1 is literally a show about first responders, but I guess because you only care about if Buck and Eddie ever get together the real life first responders in California don't matter to you.

Do you know what my part of the fandom has done, they've started a project to donate money to first responders and their families raising over 3k so far.

For anyone interested you can donate here for @bucktommypositivityproject

You can donate to California Fire Foundation

Donate to California Fire Relief

You can also donate directly to a family in need

[thechaoticfanartist]

WIP Whenever

(image created by @lasatfat )

Thanks for the tag @jedi-valjean !

Here's a little snippet from my Undertale x Star Wars Crossover

He woke up, gasping for air at the SAVE POINT.

Ahsoka and Obi-Wan were staring at him as if he were a ghost.

His body ached, although there were no wounds. No sign of how he had been impaled. He should be dead….how was he alive?

Ahsoka rushed to him, wrapping him in a hug, shaking.

Anakin was surprised. “What’s wrong, Snips?”

“What’s wrong?!” She cried. Tears were flowing down her cheeks. “YOU DIED!”

“I…I died?” Anakin asked. “But-” Suddenly, he remembered the feeling of the spear going through his heart.

He collapsed to the ground. A sudden pain going through his whole body. It seemed to remember his wounds.

“I died,” he whispered. “If I died….?”

“You came back,” said Obi-Wan. “I don’t know how. We saw you die. Your SOUL was floating there….then it shattered.”

“But I thought human SOULs didn’t shatter?” Anakin asked.

“The moment it shattered, we were back here.”

-What's A Star? Chapter 9: Battle Of The Heroes

Anakin's first death / RESET, there's surely more to come :)

I'm tagging: @shrinkthisviolet @jgvfhl @veradragonjedi @darth-caillic and anyone else who wants to participate!

[biowaredisasterbisexual]

Enrichment!!! d) “I’ve been meaning to ask you something.”

Enrichment!! Thanks so much for the ask, friend! 😁 I did a version of this one earlier, but what’s awesome about these prompts is that there are so many reasons for this line of dialogue.

From the Veilguard writing prompts, and completely unedited and unbeta’d:

“I’ve been meaning to ask you something.”

The benefit of Rook having convinced his cousins to use their invitations to get Neve and Rook into the party was that no one — other than, likely, Rook’s relatives themselves — seemed to pay them a second thought. The downside was, of course, that in the interest of politeness (and, if Neve were being honest, not damaging Rook’s fragile relationships or her own with his family any further) her attention was necessarily split between the reconnaissance they were doing and conversing with her “date,” Livinia Mercar.

Rook’s fondness for this particular cousin, and hers for him, was plain enough despite the two Mercars having spent the last seven years without any contact. It was amusing, and honestly sweet, to watch them together. It also made the whole evening’s dynamic that much more important.

“So how are you liking Ventus?” Livinia asked as they stood together, sipping their wine and people watching.

“It’s been interesting to see R-Mercar in his natural habitat,” Neve chuckled, hoping Livvy hadn’t caught the slip. Unfortunately, like Rook, the woman was sharp. Still, even sharp people could miss a minor error in a loud and crowded room. “It’s not surprising that Trouble’s reputation here seems to precede him everywhere we go, but it is funny. For me more than him.”

Livinia snickered and Neve smirked back. “Yeah, he was here all of ten years before he left for school? And somehow he managed to get into it enough that people still remembered when he came back.” Livvy shook her head. “You call him Trouble?”

“Ah. Yes.” Good job, Neve. There’s a line of questioning you definitely meant to open up. “Just a nickname.”

“Mmm.” The other woman sounded skeptical, and Neve couldn’t blame her. Nicknames given or accepted could say a lot about a person, about their relationships; a fact that Livinia clearly was aware of.

The two of them stood in semi-awkward silence, sipping at the goblets in their hands while Livinia eyed Neve appraisingly and Neve steadfastly pretended not to notice in favor of watching the crowd.

It was Livvy who broke the silence. “I’ve been meaning to ask you something.”

Neve turned to face her fully, all too aware of how closely and curiously Livinia was regarding her. “Sure. What did you want to know?”

“You. And Micah. He’s obviously in love with you.” Livinia paused, as though weighing Neve’s reaction to that information.

Neve hummed noncommittally, though she could feel her chest fill with warmth. She knew Rook loved her — would have even if he hadn’t told her, but he was free with his words now that he felt he could be — but that he’d clearly spoken of her in such a way that even his estranged relatives had figured that out was incredibly sweet.

“And the question?” She prompted, careful to keep her teasing gentle rather than combative.

“I guess the question is: who is he to you? Really?” Livinia’s smile was wry. “What are your intentions for our Micah?”

[nsuyeula]

I've been making a real effort to leave really passionate and detailed comments in all Shaunahat fics I've been reading.

Those who have written fics for these two are gods who are providing us fans with so much good content - wholesome, horny, fucked upped, doesn't matter all of it is so good.

If you get a over-enthusiastic comment from someone with a blue haired guy doing the fire elmo meme, that is me and I apologise for my unhingeness.

[where-i-keep-my-sh-t]

9/28/24

The time is 7:49 AM.

We woke up unfathomably early to go back to the spring. Really it was just six o’clock, but the spring was still too crowded when we went back to attempt getting water, so we returned empty handed again. 

The pessimism from my brothers is overwhelming- next time I have a choice I will not be going back to my parents’ house. I can’t go a moment without hearing complaints- at the very least they’re somewhat warranted now. I want power too, I want internet too, I want warm water too, but if being thankful for what we have is too much, can you at least be quiet?

And so I sat down to write. I’m going to put my device away now though. I’m only at 52%.

Now I’m on the charger. It’s been almost twelve hours- now it’s 7:20 pm.

The rest of the morning went by in blurs and flashes… I’d laid on my bed, went outside, and went for a walk. I argued with my father a little about watching my younger siblings (I promise I’ll never have children) but eventually I was able to shake them off. 

Most of the roads were blocked by fallen trees. It was like something out of a video game. I returned to the park with my oldest brother in tow (stay together, play together) and found another pretty iridescent golden spring. We chatted, walked, and went back home. Then I played outside for the rest of the time being.

I don’t think anything interesting has happened yet- except that I almost fainted due to dehydration. I drank all the juice in the house, and got ragged on for it later. It was good though- everyone else complains about the tartness of cranberry juice! I was doing them a favor.

No one has been listening to my ideas- it was my plan to start a fire tonight to warm up the food in the fridge for eating. (It’s a Saturday, so we can’t cook until sundown.) But I got no feedback- and I was pretty much ignored this whole day. No cooking, no getting water from the spring at night- but we were charging our devices in the car today. (I’m at 82%!)

Now we’re on our way to the spring. I’m able to type about it real-time because my device is plugged up, as stated previously. The city still looks kind of wrecked- my dad has been pointing out all the downed power lines. Every house with a tree through its roof. 

There’s a strange man in our car- some neighborhood guy. My parents know him. I don’t. He’s coming to get water with us. I suggested we go at some ungodly hour- rouse up at two, three AM and raise hell. Here we are at 7:47 pm, right on our way.

I can’t see in front of us. All I can see is headlights. All the streetlights are down, and there are people who don’t know what they’re doing on the road. It’s not too chaotic, but it’s weird, like society just turned back, but only mentally. We still have cars, a few gas stations are open, but everyone’s acting like wild animals. It’s annoying as I don’t know what. And frustrating.

Well, we’re back from the spring.

I recorded a lot of footage- just for funnies. Like I said, I always act like a child at my parents’ house. 

They made me watch the bottles and stuff- to make sure nothing happened I guess. That was okay. I was listening to the conversations held by the people at the end of the line. It was funny. It was interesting. I didn’t feel much about it, though.

We got home and stayed for a minute. My dad mentioned going out a state over to get gas, food. I opted to go with. I wanted to draw on the go. 

We didn’t get anything we needed- gas, ice, bread. We did get some stuff at a gas station though. Dad bought me some junk. It’s the first time he’s done that in a while, but I don’t think he cares right now.

We got back around 11:30 pm. It’s dark, so we’ll be going to sleep now.

[dullahandyke]

Anyway needless to say, college is showing me a whole slew of people who are using laptops in school for the first time and they're so bad at it. They're so bad at taking notes too. They're so bad at everything

[citrine-elephant]

that image of leon pointing with a gay pride flag and a question mark,

but it's me vaguely explaining that he probably doesn't fuckin know what romance even feels like bcuz he's so traumatized and touch starved

so like, motorboating chris can't be settled on which is which, but it's probably normal friendship things

[lifesver]

sends the dash kisses. it's still busy for me this week but i hope to get to some drafts v soon. hope you have been well! <3

[flovverworks]

the fauaki in pt2. <-still doesnt have the guts to read ch17 n 18