Is the world ending? Who's gonna throw the party?

[harborshore]

*peers out from under her thesis-shaped rock* So I hear there's a volcano? In Iceland? Doing things? This is nuts, you guys. It doesn't seem like anyone has died, and I hope I haven't gotten that wrong. All planes are canceled in Stockholm and the air space is closed, because apparently it's incredibly dangerous to fly through volcanic ash. Here's hoping it stops soon, because danger and chaos and the ashes being potentially lethal for people who are seriously ill and they're coming right at us, guys, they're already over Sweden. CRAZY. Also, I'm supposed to leave for the US in a month and I want to see my little sister graduate. It's an extremely minor concern in the grand scheme of things, but I love my sister a lot and I want to be there. And compared to the Haiti earthquake and the Chile one, this is decidedly minor. Obviously. Still, a little nuts.

So. I would like to offer ficlets, because I want to think about other things. I'm going to do the first five prompts I like, which may or may not be the first five that appear, because what I can write right now is a little limited.

Theme: post- or pre-apocalyptic scenarios WITH HOPE. Interpret that as you will. Pairings or gen are fine. Bands/fandoms I can write: Mikey, FOB, Bob and Brian (they're a subset of fandom, right?), The Like, Panic/The Young Veins (even if my Jon voice is nonexistent), MSI, others possibly. I can also do Veronica Mars, DCU or BTVS, though the last two feel like cheating since it's not like they've never done the apocalypse thing before.

Prompt away!

ETA: I am done! Five, er, seven ficlets.

Comments

[saekokato.livejournal.com]

This icon has never felt more appropriate. *snicker*

Bob/Brian and the first signs of spring after the world ends.

PS. Gabe's throwing the party! I'm not so sure that basement is safe, though. :T

[blindmouse.livejournal.com]

Mikey sucks at hope, but Patrick's not bad.

Oh, my heart.

[blindmouse.livejournal.com]

Oh, this is awesome and hopeless joy. *beams*

[harborshore.livejournal.com]

Okay, so, like, the first time I read your prompt I missed the post-split part, and this happened:


Spencer never thought he'd miss going to school, but he does. He misses math and he misses gym and he misses recess and being outside for more than five minutes every day. He liked fifth grade, okay?

Right now he doesn't care about school though. Ryan was supposed to come to them after the third storm ebbed out, but he didn't. Spencer doesn't know where Ryan is.

He kicks at the table a little bit, and he thinks about where Ryan could be. There aren't that many places, Ryan's only twelve and he can't have gotten very far, not if he is by himself (Mr Ross got taken to the hospital this morning, he was on the list they read on the radio, but Ryan wasn't). Spencer thinks some more about where Ryan could be, and then he decides.

Five minutes later, his backpack holds a knife and three extra masks and four cans of Sprite, and he is on his way out the back door as quietly as he can because his mom will stop him if she sees him. He's wearing a mask, though.

[harborshore.livejournal.com]

Alternatively, this:


"Aren't you glad you wore headbands before so you had one lying around?" Brendon says weakly, and Spencer half-smiles.

Brendon's unnaturally pale, leaning against the wall in the shelter, and Spencer basically carried him most of the last bit here after the shards coming down hit the path they were on and Brendon walked into one.

"Sure," he says. "Headbands are practical." He wouldn't have wanted hair in his eyes when he grabbed Brendon and ran.

The shelter is really full of people, but Spencer's been waiting, and when he sees a familiar face, he breathes out in relief. But then.

He walks over to Jon. "Hey," he says, and Jon hugs him, holds on hard. Spencer is surprised at first but then thinks that when it starts raining glass, some things don't matter so much anymore. So he holds on right back, breathing into Jon's hair and trying not to ask, trying not to ask.

"I don't know where he is," Jon murmurs. "We weren't--I don't know where he is."

Spencer nods and backs away from Jon. Fuck. He's so sick of waiting, and he doesn't know where Ryan is. Z's there now too, she must have come in behind Jon. Her face is twisted and she's leaning hard on a dark-haired girl while another one readies a makeshift bed out of coats and scarves.

He turns to her. "Do you know where he is?"

Z shakes her head. "Him and Tenn went to--fuck, that hurts--him and Tenn went to go somewhere, I don't remember, I couldn't walk and I made them leave me."

"Okay," Spencer says. "Okay." He needs to--they have another hour in here, and then the storms will quiet for half a day or so, if the pattern holds true. He knows what he needs to do.

[harborshore.livejournal.com]

Z's been here for a week now, living off of what she can find in pantries in the abandoned building (her can opener is her dearest possession, and she's put it on a necklace, all Martha Stewart chique). Her favorite apartment is the one on the third floor with enormous windows. It doesn't have any furniture, which either means the people who lived there took it with them or there were some very thorough looters. Z thinks it was probably a bit of both.

Anyway, she's been steadily populating the rooms with a chair there, a cushion here, and she dragged a mattress three stories down (it's not like the elevator is working) so she could have somewhere to sleep.

It's really quiet, most days. Sometimes there's a rumble like another crash is coming, but it never goes anywhere.

One day though, one day she wakes up and is absolutely sure someone's staring at her. And wow, okay, there's a girl on the floor.

"Hi," Z says, and the girl waggles her fingers like she's saying hello back. She doesn't open her mouth, as if--

"You can't talk, can you?" Z blurts out, and the girl shakes her head. A bunch of people got their vocal chords burned out in the third crash, if they were outside when it hit.

"Sorry," Z says. The girl shrugs. "Oh! I'm Z."

The girl squirms a little and takes out a folded piece of paper, which is--a map of the US? Z shifts closer so she can see where she's pointing, and after a few false starts, she realizes--"Your name is Tennessee? Is that it?"

The girl, no, Tennessee smiles, wide and breath-taking, and nods.

[harborshore.livejournal.com]

I wrote five! But the first one I wrote sort of fills this prompt as well. ♥

[harborshore.livejournal.com]

Dude, save me that one for next time, that's awesome.

[harborshore.livejournal.com]

Aww, Brian and his organizing self! I got all done with ficlets, but save this one for next time, I love it.

[harborshore.livejournal.com]

This one would have been fascinating, but I'm pretty sure it's a longfic setup that someone should write so I don't have to! It's a fascinating idea. ♥

[harborshore.livejournal.com]

That, my child, is my big bang. Assuming I get it done for the deadline, otherwise it's my middle-of-summer-story. And strictly speaking it's a dystopia, not post-apocalypse, but whatever whatever, hope in the middle of despair. Etc.

[iamsupernova.livejournal.com]

OH, HOORAY! *sealclaps* I am very excited.

[dancinbutterfly.livejournal.com]

I'll probably end up writing it. Cuz its not like I dont have lots on my plate or nothin' *SIGH* I had to get it on...something before I lost it though because your whole...optimisitc apocalypse? Totally inspiring. *smishes you and your brilliance*

IDK if you're still doing them might asks for"Pete/Patrick when they first find each other again after a zombie pandemic" instead?

[harborshore.livejournal.com]

I'm done, actually! I wrote seven ficlets in completely random order and then I got tired and today I'm all about the thesis. But I suppose you can have the most important lines:

"Pete. Pete."

"Hmm?"

"It's a little hard to walk."

"I can't imagine why."

"Maybe because you're sitting on me."

"I lost you once, I'm never gonna lose you again, and you're all short, so maybe if I let go--"

"PETE. First of all, so are you, second of all, I'm not going anywhere, third--what are you doing?"

"Handcuffs! The perfect solution to all our problems."

[dancinbutterfly.livejournal.com]

dorks in love. *sighs* handcuffs.

[x_dark_siren_x]

How do I always miss these? *despairs*

Oh well. *settles down to read*

[x_dark_siren_x]

Oh, oh honey. *______* My breath is sort of constantly catching in my throat right now. And, and normally I don't like apocolyptically-minded stuff, because it scares me (this is why I have never seen "The Day After Tomorrow", will not see "2012" - God, that scares me most of all, I think - and the thing with the ash cloud - which is totally non-existant in Scotland - is freaking me out just more than a little), but. But but but.

But if it's you? I could be okay with it. ♥

[harborshore.livejournal.com]

♥ Yeah, Mikeyway, he tends to break my heart a lot.

[harborshore.livejournal.com]

That is why I specified hopeful scenarios! I'm not precisely scared of apocalyptic scenarios as much as they just make me sad, but I do like them when there's hope and love and stuff.

[blindmouse.livejournal.com]

Oh, baby intrepid Spencer *__*

[blindmouse.livejournal.com]

Oh, this is lovely! Z's can opener on a necklace! ♥

[softlyforgotten.livejournal.com]

Oh my god, you know how to make me happy -- in a "so happy I'm making terrified eyes at the screen and wanting more more more, omg" way, you know. These are so perfect, thank you, darling. ♥ Z leaning hard on a dark-haired girl while another one readies a makeshift bed out of coats and scarves, oh.

[harborshore.livejournal.com]

I love them the best, you know? ♥

[harborshore.livejournal.com]

They make it easy. ♥

[harborshore.livejournal.com]

Out of all of them, this one might be a real story some day, thank you for that. ♥