Nessie

Hello folks! I’m doing another round of mutual aid requests to help out the groups I work with on the ground here in Minnesota!

Participating is simple! Simply DM me proof of your donation (anything counts!!) and a prompt, and I will write a fic/poem/analysis for you. Fandoms include DC, Genshin, MXTX, Spiderman, All for the Game, The Raven Cycle, and more (DM me if you have something else in mind and I’ll let you know if I’m in the fandom!)

Any layout and graphic design commission fees will also go towards community aid! DM me for more info and my portfolio.

My credentials for all this: creative writing and publishing graduate, English teacher, published poet and author, layout designer for several anthologies and international magazines, street medic, community observer and emergency translator, someone who cares a whole lot but doesn’t have enough money to help everyone

Donate here:

Find our community aid linktree here

Manna Market: food for immigrant families in MN

Family Pathways: you can specify if you would like to donate to the food shelf, domestic violence services, or other!

Anything from this list!

There was a framed poem on the wall across from Jason’s bed. It was hand lettered in black brushstrokes, each word sure and certain. Beneath the text was a watercolor of a pair of Canadian geese mid-flight, their wings open wide and necks stretch to the horizon just beyond the edge of the page. Tim had every inch of the creamy paper memorized after countless long nights spent curled up at the foot of his fallen Robin’s bed. Back when he first began to stay at the manor, when Bruce’s grief was fresh and violent and Tim sought out any ounce of comfort and stability he could get. Comfort he found in the shrine dedicated to a dead boy. His Robin. Before Jason had returned, this had been his secret. He had not dared come back into this room since Red Hood had taken up residence in Wayne Manor.

Read the fic here!

“Did you make this?” Kon asked, though he already knew the answer. Tim shrugged, but couldn’t hide the red that returned to his delicate cheekbones. “I have a lot of free time.”  And wasn’t that non answer everything? Kon’s fingers continued to trace along the hard line of the radio while his eyes remained fixed on Tim and his delightfully red checks. He was softer like this, like the proof of blood running through his veins was enough to smooth out the firm marble of his features. It shouldn’t have been so enticing. It wasn’t supposed to be enticing. 

Read the fic here!

Find the playlist here!