The Static Quake Network

Hey, sorry it took me so long, life has been crazy, but here it is!

1. Who kills the spider?

They are both pretty chill about bugs, so whoever finds it usually takes it outside.

2. Who reads while the other snuggles up to them?

Daisy; Lincoln reads a lot, she never expected that he would spend so much time of his life reading, but he thumps her lightly in the head with a book and goes “how did you imagine that people become doctors, um?” and she goes “I don’t know, by opening up people? That’s the vibe I get from Simmons”. Anyway, she usually comes back after an exhausting day and finds him always studying, always trying to better himself, and she loves it and him so much that just has to go and squish him out of sheer love.  

3. Who likes to eat with fork more that a spoon?

Lincoln is more dexterous with his hands and Daisy is more used to have to make do with whatever she has, and they are both pretty simple people, so they don’t have many issues with any.

4. Who laughs at funny words?

Daisy is, literally, a child. She is still laughing over sternocleidomastoid while Lincoln rubs his brow.

5. In high school what would their stereotype(s) be? Examples - nerd, jock, band geek ect

Both of them would be kind of the badass loner, I think; Daisy tending a little more towards the cool one, and Lincoln closer to the bad boy.

6. What type of parents would they be?

The best foster parents a child could ask for. Ready to deal with a lot of the emotional- and sometimes even physical- trauma associated with being in the system, equipped to let their children go better prepared to face life in a healthy way.

7. What is their favourite show to watch together?

Believe it or not, they like historical drama-heavy shows, where they can gasp in outrage and be evenly scandalized and grossed out

8. Do they like the food network channel?

Lincoln likes it more than Daisy; he cooks a lot more than her, and better. She is just glad to reap on the results.

9. Who likes to walk their dogs while the other lets the dogs walk them?

They both would rather roll on the floor with the dogs lapping up their faces, preferably together.

10. Who is the more relaxed one?

Um. They are not the classical Stressed PeopleTM, but they carry a lot of guilt around, and they are constantly worried about being not enough, so. They are pretty healthy about helping each other with it, luckily.  

11. Who likes to be out in nature more?

They are both big fans! Lincoln is more the kind to take out a book to read under a tree, basking on the sun, while Daisy wants to roll around on the grass and catch bugs and just use the energy she is getting from nature, you know? It’s good luck those things are not mutually exclusive.

12. Who initiates cuddling sessions?

Usually Daisy. Lincoln is more the kind to go and give her a kiss on her hair, or give her a cup of coffee when he knows she has to pull an all-nighter, or remember to wash her work-out clothes when she doesn’t. She is more the all types of physical affection all the time type, and really really likes the reminder of his body strong and breathing under her hands.  

13. Who is always running late and always gives the other a running late quick kiss?

Daisy is always running late, because she is disorganized and sleeps weird hours and just because. But she is not the kind to stop too much to do the kiss thing, more like shove food inside her mouth and just garble a goodbye on the run, while Lincoln follows her- damn him and his long legs- to put on her scarf and give her the travel mug of coffee he prepared for her.

14. Who bakes the other a cake and puts a playful insult on it?

Daisy, of course. Except she doesn’t bake them, more like buys them or steals them from Fitz’s oven. Either way, her “insults” often fail to come across as terrible, especially since she considers you are so handsome i wanna puke rainbows an insult.

15. Who would wrap the other in a blanket when the other one has a bad day?

Believe it or not, Lincoln. Daisy goes more for the cuddling and the food comfort, while Lincoln is somehow more conscient of how healing can it be to be in darkness, warm and protected form the world for awhile, alone, but knowing that there is someone outside to protect you.

Send me a ship and I will tell you…

It was their anniversary, so Lincoln figured he’d leave work early, stop for some roses, and get some dinner started for Daisy before she got home. All celebration, no fuss – a reasonable expectation, right?

What he didn’t expect was their belongings all over the house, their dog Phil chasing his tail in endless circles and Daisy running around just as frantically. He was almost afraid to ask, to be honest.

“Honey?” Daisy looked up. Phil kept running. “What’s the matter?”

“What’s the matter?” Daisy sighed. “You…you weren’t supposed to see this,” she said, waving a tired hand at the mess. “I was supposed to have found it before you got home, but clearly, I haven’t found it, and now the surprise is ruined and it’s all fucked and probably’s going to make me –” She stopped, halfway to tears. “I’ve ruined it.”

Lincoln stepped close and hugged her tight. “Nothing’s ruined, babe. It’s our anniversary. All we need is us, okay? I don’t need surprises or fancy gestures. I just need you.” He wiped gently at the tears on her face. “I got you.”

Phil, who had disappeared sometime during Daisy’s rant, trotted back in with a baby blue box in his mouth. Seeing the box sent Daisy into a wave of hysterical, exhausted laughter, and she bent down to ruffle the beagle’s head before standing. “This was what I was meant to give you,” she said with a rueful laugh. “Happy anniversary.”

Lincoln frowned. “All this for a tiny box? Babe, you didn’t have to –”

“Just open it, okay?” Some ribbon later, nestled inside a pile of paper strips was a tiny sonogram. Lincoln swore his heart stopped before kicking into double drive.

This couldn’t be happening. “I’m –”

“Congratulations,” Daisy grinned, cupping his cheek and leaning to kiss him. “Dad.”

thank you, love!

Okay so this is a jumble to explain but it’s basically about Marina Joyce. 

  In short, she is a Youtuber that is believed to be kidnapped, in an abusive relationship she cannot escape and most likely having to forcibly take drugs and hallucinogens. The Police were not able to get in contact with her and although they have before, they were called off and it was explained on social media there is reasonable evidence to display that she does not even control her own social media accounts.

MORE INFORMATION: https://justpaste.it/wm1b   

    and there’s even more if you search for it on tumblr where people are putting the pieces together little by little so it seems!

She uploads videos every Thursday but it’s undeniable how uncomfortable she is in them.  She looks so shaky and her old videos she was such a happy, glowing and outgoing girl. Now she is literally a paranoid, disheveled, panicky WRECK being directed by some unknown face behind the camera.

There is something fishy going on and it petrifies me. It hits my gut hard and gives me chills. And I don’t get shaken up easily!

  The point of this is to  SPREAD THE WORD. She has over 600,000 fans who know what’s happening and even used to date KSI’s Brother but for some reason, NOBODY IS TALKING ABOUT THIS ON YOUTUBE. It’s like nobody knows, not even NEWS CHANNELS.

I HAVE A PLAN

Hear me out, my plan is that we message Scarce. Scarce is a huge Youtube News Channel that has helped so many others in the past and he NEEDS to get ahold of this. 

HIS TWITTER IS @JOHNSCARCE

Because he is so huge, I think Twitter would be the best way to contact him but 

HERE IS HIS YOUTUBE

NOTE: IT DOES NOT HAVE TO STOP HERE. DM LEAFY, DM GRADEAUNDERA, DM PYROCYNICAL, DM IHE, DM PHILIP DEFRANCO,  DM FUCKING KEEMSTAR IF YOU WANT.  HELL, DM COMEDYSHORTSGAMER, HE IS HER EX. 

skip to 0:10, and watch all the way up to 0:13. when you get there, you’ll hear a very faint whisper as she turns around. i know this isn’t my imagination, as many other people have supposedly heard this as well.

she says “help me”.

guys. op isn’t fucking lying, this girl is seriously in trouble. hints in her videos are the only way she can reach the outside world.

don’t scroll past this. she needs help. 

help save this girl’s life. like op said, we can spread the word and attempt to contact the people listed in the post above, and you at least owe this girl that if she’s really hurt.

daisy on team valor and lincoln on team instinct ://

“Goodbye”. It lingers on her tongue, dancing in cruel circles in her mouth, wanting to burst. She can’t say it, not even whisper it. It would make it real, there would be no more pretending that he is not gone, and it would hurt so much.

There’s already an ache in her heart. Sometimes, she likes to pretend he is travelling, seeing the world as he always dreamed. At night, half of her bed is empty, cold. She hugs the pillow, closes her eyes, and tries to imagine that it’s him she’s holding close one last time. When she wakes up, the pillow is soaked in tears and whispers that he will never hear.

“I love you, so, so much!”, she says, but no one hears, and no one replies. Her life feels empty, there’s a void that needs to be filled, she just doesn’t know how or if she ever will be able to do it.

Her hand touches the clothes she’s laid on the half of the bed he should be right now. It’s been a year and yet she still lays them every night. His smell is still there, in the fabrics, or maybe at this point she’s memorized it, because she smells it everywhere. Still, it doesn’t take the pain away, she knows nothing will, but if she closes her eyes, she can almost feel him there, next to her, almost hear him breathing softly in her hair, hands holding her gently. Almost. Because when she opens her eyes, she’s alone again. Bitter tears start falling down her cheeks, her eyes sting. He is everywhere around her, and yet he isn’t at the same time. His clothes are still in the closet, untouched, his shoes are still by the door, waiting for him to put them on. His toothbrush is still in the bathroom next to hers. His perfume is where he left it that morning, and his shirt is, as always, on her.

The mornings are the worst. For a moment, she forgets everything. He’s there, she can feel him, or maybe she’s going crazy, because she can swear that she feels his fingers brushing against the exposed skin on her arms and back. For a few seconds, she’s happy, she smiles. She opens her eyes and there’s no one next to her. It feels like an eternity until she can manage to get out of the bed and go to work.

There’s a raging storm in her heart, ever since that day. Her soul feels heavy, her existence pointless, she is tired and empty inside. There were so many things that were left unsaid, things she never told him, like how he was the love of her life and how she wanted to spend the rest of her life with him, travelling around the world, how she would give anything now to just see him one more time, kiss his lips once more. She would tell him now she was not worth the sacrifice, him dying so she could live. There’s nothing she wouldn’t do to be with him now, wherever he was.

In her dreams, she is the one to kill him, over and over again. His pale lips whisper “I love you, Daisy” and his eyes become lifeless, he dies in her arms, blood dripping on the floor, staining her clothes and Daisy can almost smell it. She wakes up crying every time, looking for the blood on her hands, his blood, but there’s nothing. Not on her hands, not next to her on the bed.

There’s just clothes, and she drags her tired body on the clothes, and she cries until there aren’t any more tears.

“Oh god, Lincoln I thought we agreed you and Daisy didn’t need to ever be in the kitchen again?”

He wants to resent Jemma’s condescending tone, except looking between her highly concerned gaze and the vague stack of crumbled cake-sheet-attempts dripping with melted frosting on the table in front of him – he can’t exactly draw up the dignity.

“We did,” he confirms, tearing his eyes away from the mess as another glob of frosting slides dramatically over the edge and splats down onto the counter, “except I had a temporary lapse in judgement which led me to believe that Daisy was the entire problem.”

Jemma doesn’t respond immediately, and Lincoln thinks she looks like she might be grappling for words that are just out of reach.

He cringes as he hears another splat of icing-on-countertop, and a long sigh escapes Jemma’s parted lips, perfect posture deflating just slightly.

“What, dare I ask, were you trying to make?”

He hesitates before answering.

“A cake.”