#Multitasking Fatigue

[familythings]

Women Need More Sleep Than Men: A Shocking Study Unveils the Science Behind the Gender Sleep Gap

Sleep is one of the most fundamental human needs, yet recent studies have unearthed an eye-opening conclusion: women, on average, need more sleep than men. The reason? Women’s brains work harder, multitask more frequently, and, as a result, need extra recovery time. This revelation adds another dimension to the ongoing discussion about gender differences, but it also raises questions about how we…

[givemethaturl]

I took today and tomorrow off simply because I've been putting too many hours into work and wanted some time to rest...

And I'm fucking bored to shit. It's really great that my work is my passion, but I absolutely need to find other hobbies outside of reading and working out. I am seriously questioning taking my PTO day back tomorrow and just heading into the office.

That or prepping my class content for next semester (adjunct). I mean, I worked on two more LinkedIn learning courses today just to keep my mind going.

A complete juxtaposition, really, from my younger days where I couldn't fathom being a quarter as productive on a regular basis. The pendulum has totally over corrected. My coping mechanism to deal with the ADHD and Anxiety became to just never stop being productive, and it is sending me to an early death.

[zevrans-remade]

.

[eric-sadahire]

If my brain were a computer, it would be overheating, fans whirring like a jet engine, and the CPU temperature gauge would be off the charts.

In this digital cortex, thought processes would be running at turbo speed, and the RAM would be maxed out with multitasking.

[nenelonomh]

improving productivity

productivity refers to the efficiency of turning inputs into outputs. it's a measure of performance that compares what's produced with the resources used to create it. the three types of productivity include economic productivity, labor productivity, and workplace productivity.

workplace (or personal) productivity refers to how much work is done within a specific time period. factors that influence workplace productivity include motivation, personality, talent, training, environment, support, and time management.

improving personal productivity involves adopting effective strategies and habits. systems. here are some tips:

prioritize tasks: identify high-priority tasks and focus on them first. use techniques like the eisenhower matrix to categorize tasks by urgency and importance. prioritizing is essential for several reasons. it helps you avoid getting bogged down in busywork and unimportant tasks. it reduces overwhelm and provides focus and structure. by focusing on what truly matters, you make progress toward your objectives and optimize your use of time and resources. prioritizing tasks streamline your workflow and increase efficiency. multitasking is less effective than focusing your attention on one task.

set clear goals: define specific, measurable goals. break them down into smaller steps to make the progress manageable. goals provide a compass for your actions. they guide you toward what truly matters, helping you prioritize tasks and decisions. clarity reduces distractions, allowing you to stay focused on opportunities aligned with your objectives. goals also serve as benchmarks, allowing you to measure progress and celebrate achievements.

time blocking: allocate specific blocks of time for different tasks. my favourite tools for this are the notion calendar (it gives a great visual representation of tasks). by dedicating specific blocks of time to tasks, you minimize distractions and stay on track. when you commit to time blocks, you're more likely to complete tasks within those periods. knowing when you'll work on specific tasks reduces anxiety. it creates predictability and reduces decision fatigue.

take breaks: regular breaks improve focus and prevent burnout. step away from your desk, and stretch, or take a short walk. relaxing activities improve well-being and calm the central nervous system. the ideal break duration depends on individual preferences and the nature of the work. some strategies include utilizing the pomodoro technique, or the 20-20-20 rule. for screen-related work, every 20 minutes, look at something 20 feet away for at least 20 seconds. this reduces eye strain and refreshes focus. short breaks (5-10 minutes) are great for quick rejuvenation. longer breaks (15-30 minutes) allow deeper relaxation and can include a walk or light exercise.

stay healthy: prioritize sleep, exercise, and nutrition. a healthy body supports a productive mind. when you prioritize well-being, you create a solid foundation for effective work. chronic stress negatively impacts productivity. practice stress-reducing techniques like mindfulness, deep breathing, or meditation. a positive mindset enhances focus and creativity. prioritize self-care and emotional balance. invest in healthy habits such as good hydration, and balanced nutrition.

remember - productivity is about working smarter, not just harder. experiment with these strategies and find what works best for you!

i hope this post was helpful!

❤nene

[p0orbaby]

Tapping In

summary: you’re shattered, Katie makes up for her time away

warnings: just general descriptions of tiredness

a/n: not based on my current state…

word count: 603

-

You looked utterly drained.

Even from several feet away, Katie couldn’t help but notice the dark circles under your eyes. It was entirely understandable; caring for a four-year-old and a toddler on your own for two weeks was no easy feat.

As she stood there, unnoticed, observing you spoon-feeding Maeve, multitasking by wiping down surfaces, and keeping a watchful eye on Finn engrossed in his Lego’s, she couldn’t help but wonder how she got so lucky.

It was her daughter who was the first to sense her presence. Maeve’s green eyes widened at the sight of her ma. Her excited squeal causing you to turn around in response to her commotion, offering a tired yet warm smile as your wife fully entered the kitchen.

“Mornin’ baby” Katie whispered against your temple. Kissing you there, smelling the remnants of your shampoo in your tousled, sleep mussed hair. “Why didn’t you wake me?”

You lean into her touch, closing your eyes at the way she plays with the baby hairs at the nape of your neck. Sighing at how she squeezes some tension out of your shoulders with her free hand.

“You needed rest” you state like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “You’ve been working hard, you got home late. I thought you could do with a lie-in”

Katie hummed, nodding her head in understanding. Her eyes leaving the way your body slumped against hers, to her children. To Maeve smacking her chubby hands against the tray of her high chair. And to Finn who was in his own little world. A determined frown that challenged your own as he kept to building whatever it was he decided to that morning.

The children remained blissfully unaware of just how utterly shattered you were – an innocence that neither of you could ever hold against them. You loved them more than you could ever imagine, but they were a handful. A perfectly imperfect handful.

“Alright, let’s switch,” Katie finally instructed. “C’mon”

With a groan, you summoned the strength to move, handing her the spoon you’d been using to feed Maeve when she extended her hand for it.

“Hey, Finnster, how about a trip to the park later? A little day date with me and your sister?” Katie suggested.

Finn looked up from his task, his eyes lighting up with enthusiasm as he eagerly nodded in agreement.

“Babe, you don’t have to-“

“Ah ah” she interrupted. “I do and that’s that”

If you weren’t so tired you think you could cry.

You remembered the early mornings when Maeve’s cries pierced the silence, and you’d rush to her side, fumbling to change nappies and prepare bottles while trying not to wake the entire house. The sleepless nights had become a storm you would happily weather.

Then, there were Finn’s moments of mischief. You’d find him scribbling crayon on the walls or discover his secret stash of cookies in the back of his wardrobe. But every time you looked into his bright eyes, full of wonder and excitement, you couldn’t help but smile through the fatigue.

It was no question that you loved them both dearly. More than anything in the world. But these past two weeks had been hard, and you really needed a break.

So you finally relinquished your role. With Katie transitioning seamlessly back into the ebb and flow of your morning routine. The kitchen seemed to hum with a sense of energy and ease that had been absent for days. And you couldn’t help but feel a profound sense of gratitude for the person you had chosen to share this life with.

[deong]

keep going ㅡ karina x fem!reader

word count: 1.08k words

pairing: ceo g!p karina x fem reader

warnings: dom karina, sub reader, smut, dry humping, riding, fingering, cursing

a/n: its been awhile since i last wrote smut so bare with me. this is also my first time posting on tumblr, hello :-)

A loud sigh can be heard from one of the offices in Yu Enterprises’

Karina sat diligently working on paperwork in her office, long after most of her employees had left for the night already.

A sense of frustration filled her as she reflected on the countless meetings she attended since she arrived this morning. Glancing at the clock, it was nearly 1 am. Realizing she would be coming home late. She attempted to call Y/N, her wife to inform her but she didn't answer her phone.

Feeling exhausted, resting her head on the desk for a moment seeking a brief respite. Suddenly, the sound of a loud beep emanated from her office phone, prompting her to lift her head.

"Excuse me, ma’am. Your wife is here to see you" her assistant informed.

Karina pressed the button to respond

"Send her in"

You walked into the office, donning a not too fancy mid-thigh black long-sleeve dress. "I received your message. I'm sorry I didn't pick up honey, but I brought you some food!" you said with a smile as you held the packed food high before placing it on the table.

Karina looked at you with a helpless expression, feeling utterly fatigued and longing for a moment of solace in your presence.

"Come here, you can sit on my lap until I'm done working with this"

Rolling her chair away from the desk. You obliged, smiling to yourself as you walked over and settled yourself on her lap. She wrapped an arm around your waist, holding it close like a seatbelt. While she glanced at her paperwork. A gentle kiss on your cheek affirmed her affection.

"I'm almost done," Karina assured. To which you just nodded understandingly.

"Take all the time you need, baby"

Karina continued working for the next half an hour or so, but suddenly her mind drifted elsewhere. By "elsewhere" meaning the sudden wetness she started to feel transferring to her wide-leg office pants.

Hands absentmindedly explored your body, caressing your thighs. She leaned back, whispering

"I can feel your wetness darling"

A statement that soon after came a chuckle from Karina. Slowly, she ventured deeper, asking "Do you want me to stop?" You shook your head, conveying her consent.

Messing around in your wife’s office is not a rare occurrence. It’s not like she doesn’t own the whole company building anyways but perhaps tonight would be a little different. As it’s not as isolated before.

Karina started to unzip your dress, watching as it fell revealing your bare shoulders and the loosened strap of your bra. Placing a soft kiss on your shoulder, her hand reached its intended destination.

Pressing her lips against your neck slowly, she savored the soft moans escaping your lips. Intertwining your hands in her hair.

"Your panties are so soaked, baby" she whispered, making you bite your bottom lip in response as she played with your wetness. Driving you insane.

“Stop teasing me already” you breathe as tried to get friction by humping her hand.

Moving your panties aside, she suddenly slipped two fingers inside eliciting a loud moan. "Shit," she exclaimed.

Her other hand then roamed your chest, finding your breasts. Multitasking, she planted wet kisses on your lips, all the while massaging your breast and rhythmically thrusting her fingers in and out of you. Each thrust caused your chest to rise and fall with pleasure. "I want you inside me," you moaned. Removing her fingers, you unbuckled her pants and pulled down her boxers.

"Sit on me." she instructed as you stood up, discarding your panties and slowly positioning yourself onto her member. A soft moan escaped her lips as you sat down. With a firm grip on your waist, Karina began bouncing your slight frame. Observing the made satisfying clap sound with each impact. "Fuck, baby." she groaned, tilting her head back and running her hand through your hair.

"You're so tight," Karina moaned as you continued to bounce. "Only for you." You whispered. One hand slipped beneath you, eagerly fondling your breasts. She then stood up, pulling out and putting away all the paperwork on the table.

Walking behind you, she observed as you assumed the position she wants: bending over the desk.

Grinning mischievously, she commented "You already know what to do," chuckling as a smirk formed on her face highlighting the mole below her lips.

She entered you, thrusting fervently. The room filled with your combined moans and the rhythmic clashing of your bodies against one another. Leaning down Karina planted kisses on your back and left a trail of hickeys.

"Faster" you groaned.

"My pleasure," she replied, gripping your shoulder and gradually increasing the pace. Your whimpering and moaning echoed through the office as you held onto the desk for support. She pulled out and instructed you, "Lie on your back."

Complying you settled on her desk.

Hooking your legs over her shoulders, she penetrated you once more. Relishing in your loud moans. Placing her hands on the desk, she thrust vigorously.

"Oh my fucking God! Don't stop!" your sweat-soaked bodies molding together. Inclining her head, she planted soft kisses on your lips while your tongues danced in a passionate frenzy. Your hand clutched her neck pulling her closer, while she felt her member repeatedly stimulate your sensitive spot, eliciting even more moans.

That was your sweet spot.

"Do you like that, princess?" she inquired. "Yes" you barely let out as you nodded. Lifting you up, she hooked her arms under your legs, your calves resting on her shoulders. Karina continued her intense thrusting, feeling your walls tighten. "I'm going to cum!"

"Me too!" she moaned. Pushing herself to the limit, she thrust harder and faster finally reaching her climax. "Fuck, Y/N I'm cumming!" she shouted as she released inside you, her muscles tightening.

After experiencing the bliss of your connection, you two remained in that position for a while. Both enjoying the afterglow. "Do you think your assistant heard us?" you wondered, your body twitching slightly as she slowly withdrew. "She probably left soon after you entered" she smiled at you.

You sat up, pulling her closer. Your radiant smiles filled the room. Embracing the tender moment, you gave your wife a peck.

"I'm hungry now," Karina playfully remarked with a pout, causing your laughter. "You're always hungry" as you both dressed. Settling on the couch in her office, you covered yourselves with a blanket, indulging in the meal you had brought along.

[queenendless]

❤️‍🩹Flare (Keigo Takami/Hawks x Adult!Fem!Reader)❤️‍🩹

A/n: IT'S BEEN SO LONG! Sorry for the wait! I went through a Hawks writing funk. Also been working on JJK stuff. And watching a bunch of stuff too.

So, this piece is a self indulgent venting one cause I have chronic flare up pains going for 3 years now so this piece is kinda based off of a day in the life of me when dealing with my particular condition; feet wise. So I'd get it if reading this ain't up your alley. I just wish I had someone like Hawks to comfort me and quell my pain and worries.

AU, already established relationship with angst, hurt/comfort, fluff and feels indeed.

*PLEASE DON'T PLAGARIZE STEAL COPY TRANSLATE AND OR REPOST MY FANFIC WORK. REBLOG LIKE AND FOLLOW INSTEAD PLEASE AND THNX U.

Chronic pain is a living hell.

Engraved into your body.

Will leave on its own accord or be stuck with you for life.

Unfortunately, it was panning out to be the latter for you.

Staying up all night, multitasking from working on your laptop to checking the news to see your birdie partner engaging in a team up with his idol of a hero Endeavor alongside their hero works students.

Pride beamed in you at seeing Keigo in action, feather swords in hand to disarm his opponents, swooping in with his feathers spreading out to push and carry and guide the civilians to safety amidst the chaos.

The dews of dawn crept in as you finally finished when it happened.

Going in 3 years so far, the hereditary curse triggered in you from your pent up stress collapsing on itself resulted in flaring burning footsies.

Fatigue stung your eyes.

Your head pounded in dull pain.

With the curtains blocking out the light and the AC set to cool, you thought the cold would push the swelling burning go away.

But this was turning out to be one of those worse days.

You curled up in the fetal position on your bed, taking over 2 hours to fall asleep.

Falling in and out of slumber, you were now restless.

You heard the slide-in door of your living room balcony opening followed by the thump of footsteps and the flap of wings.

Always keeping it unlocked for him when he took a dive straight to your place. It is more of a home to him than his penthouse of a place that was still filled with unpacked boxes of furniture and such.

“Hey! Baby bird? Ya home?”

Hearing his heavy footsteps inching close, of course he'd first check your room.

Having only been seeing each other for a few months, you knew you couldn't keep this hidden from him for the long run.

His muffled voice finally came from behind your door. “Birdie?”

You knew his feathers could pick up even your quiet tone. “Here.”

Seeing light trickle in through the crack of the door, the man himself blocked out most of it from his frame. “Why is it dark – shit – and cold in here!?”

His shivering self hug was halted as those pupils shrunk behind his visor as he opened up the door more to shine the light in to unveil your red irritated feet. “Y/n? W – What happened?” He quickly came to your side, alarmed at the sight. Gobsmacked to be precise.

“Just circulatory defectiveness. Chronic stuff, ya know.” Your attempt at brushing it off like it was no big deal only riled up his feathers. Literally.

“No I didn't know! I've just found out!” Stripping off his gloves that fell to the floor, his calloused hands carefully felt your sensitive red dorsums. “How bad is it?”

“The tingling and burning really gets to you when you're trying to focus on work or sleep.” You winced for even his cautious fingers featherly brushing your veiny skin did little to quell the soreness. “Makes it harder to sleep when I'm not on the brink of exhaustion.”

Cradling one foot in his hands, Keigo's eyes trembled with emotion. “For how long?”

You couldn't meet his serious gaze. You looked away. “This year makes it three.”

“I get that everyone has their fair share of secrets but … ” The hurt in his voice cracked your heart.

“You have enough to deal with as is. My defective self is stuck dealing with this.” Your reasons made him wince at how true it was.

“Even so,” he set your foot down gently just so he could sit right beside you, his face hovering right above yours, gently cradling your head as he forced you to look him dead in the eye. “You shouldn't feel the need to hide this kind of thing from me.”

You self consciously fidget, throat choked up and lips wobbling. Your beautiful eyes grew in beauty from the tears but it just made him want to kiss them away. So he did.

“I have my fair share of secrets. Comes with my hero work … not to mention my past.” The crestfallen haze in his gaze was there one moment before his eyes lit up with endearment as you filled his sight. “You're the only one I'm willing to be myself around and just … be honest.”

“I was … embarrassed. I didn't want you seeing me like this.”

Taking off his visor then his headphones, his serious tone sent shivers racing through you. “I want to see all of you … the real you … the you I fell hard for.”

Setting his things aside on the nightstand, that left him free for you to hug his neck with no obstacles. He kept layering butterfly pecks against your cheeks and eyelids, curling your lips in response to his affection.

“You were scared. I get it. I was the same when I felt ready to tell you about my past … but you more than anybody reassured me I could trust you with my troubles, my feelings, all of it.”

His genuinity made you whimper and sniffle out of that shared sentiment as he helped you sit up.

“What's the point of being the #2 hero if I can't use my resources to help out my partner? Especially when you've been suffering this whole time.” He was sticking to this newfound resolve.

“Chronic stuff is incurable.” You sniffed at the sight of him pulling out a spare cloth outta his jacket pocket, wiping up your wet cheeks before dabbing your runny nose, letting you blow as well.

“There's still experimental treatment. Physical therapy. You still have options. And I'll help you in any way I can.” He is so charming and persuasive.

“Fine … I did miss having you here.”

“C'm here.” He immediately gathered you up in his arms, letting you bury your face in his shoulder, taking it all out.

The strain in your choked sobs. The pent up exhaustion, the struggle, the pain of the past three years you kept inside. Your blubbering got soaked up on his sleeve but he didn't mind one bit.

“It's okay, Y/n. Just let it out.” The enriching relaxing sounds of his voice kept you grounded. Solid. Assured.

“I'm here. I gotcha.” He squeezed you firmly but gently, rubbing your back in gentle motions with one hand and simultaneously weaving through your hair with the other; his fingers brushing them as soothingly as he could. “You're sleep deprived as is. You deserve to rest.”

“Only if you're staying.” You stubbornly set straight.

Keigo grinned, pecked your lips, drawing it out, filled to the brim with reciprocation and affection. “Deal.”

He cradled the back of your noggin as Keigo peppered kisses all over your face, gently pushing you to lay on your back as those lips traversed to your neck.

Your feet brushed together and your toes curled as Keigo spent the next few minutes sucking and nibbling all over your neck, his wings draping over you both, and your breathy moans feeding into his pleased ears.

Sleep could wait for a while longer.

[fibromyalgicaf]

I recently saw someone asking on Reddit about gaming as a person with a chronic illness or disability which got me thinking...

So I divide games into four categories based on how taxing they are and what device they require. And the category I choose a game from depends on my pain and energy levels.

Here's the four categories and the games I play in each one (please add your faves!):

1. Idle mobile games for when I'm really low on energy and experiencing high amounts of pain (basically, when I'm feeling drowsy and disconnected but just laying in bed is boring and I can't fall asleep)

Cluster duck (an idle duck breeding game that's quite cute and feels quite different to your bog-standard idle clicker)

Pizza Ready (you "manage" a pizza joint but it's really just running from one side to the other)

any other idle clicker game that keeps me focused on something but without really using any brain power. There are hundreds (maybe thousands) of these.

2. More-involved mobile games or basic PC/console games for when I have more brain power and some energy, and medium pain. These will require a fair amount of thinking, maybe some basic strategizing, but don't require a lot of planning or multitasking

Plants vs Zombies (fight the zombie invasion by placing plants in their way; a retro classic game available on mobile and PC)

Pokemon Go (yes, it's marketed as an outdoor walking game but if you live in an urban area, you might find enough Pokemon in your house/backyard and battles can be done from anywhere)

Lemmings (a mobile app game based on the old PC game; place directions or ladders so the creatures reach their goal)

Tower War (using a similar concept to the boardgame Risk, send your soldiers out to capture other towers)

3. Cozy or "easy" PC games for when I'm feeling good enough to sit up with my laptop and I have reasonable brain power and energy

Stardew Valley (a very cute and cozy farming game with a little bit of mining if you want to do it, and a storyline)

Minecraft but on creative; I'll try out build ideas but without the intensity of a survival game

4. Other PC games for the days I'm feeling "good" (i.e. minimal pain, decent energy) or, to be honest, the days when I don't give a shit how I feel, I wanna do something exciting and gaming is the closest I can get. I have a tendency to favour survival and crafting games so this might be an absolutely useless list for some of you 

Valheim (my all-time favourite game and one of the most visually beautiful games ever; an open -world survival game with crafting, building, and farming, as well as combat)

Minecraft on survival (open-world survival game with some combat, crafting, building, and farming)

Raft (start on a tiny raft and gather resources to build onto your raft, discover islands, solve small puzzles, some basic farming)

Barotrauma (a 2D submarine adventure in which you complete missions, collect resources, recruit crew, and fight monsters of the deep)

Factorio (for my fellow management nerds; build a network of conveyor belts and factories, and then optimise for efficiency!)

Disclaimer: all mobile games mentioned above are for Android (I don't know if they're available on apple) and I can only speak for my experience as a 30-something person with fibromyalgia and chronic fatigue; if you have additions or edits to suggest based on your experience, I'd love to hear it 🤞

[missfrieden]

Tech as a father Chapter 54

There will be a lot of what a lot say will be fillers. But I just write down random moments. Also when a chapter will be with an Episode, I do not feel comfortable sort of writing it differently. So I may just skip then, from a point to the next when it is important.

Masterlist

Chapter 54: The GAR of stuffed animals

Tech, ever the multitasker, expertly balanced his responsibilities as a father and a soldier. As he moved around, handling various tasks, he allowed Orion to explore his surroundings, even if it meant occasional attempts to grab Tech's face or adjust his goggles. The unpredictable nature of caring for an infant seemed to blend seamlessly with Tech's efficient approach to his duties.

As Orion's eyelids drooped with the fatigue of exploration, Tech's smile softened. Carefully cradling his son, he made his way to the bunk, the bent breastfeeding pillow ready to provide a snug and secure spot for Orion's rest. Despite the usual resistance to the railing, Tech executed the task with practiced quietness, ensuring that the transition from exploration to slumber remained undisturbed. With Orion settled, Tech took a moment to observe the peaceful scene, marvelling at the contrast between the energetic curiosity of a waking infant and the serene repose of a sleeping one. The blend of parental duties and soldierly precision had become a harmonious symphony in the unique rhythm of Tech's life.

Tech's fingers danced over the datapad's interface as he composed an encrypted message to Amanda, updating her on Orion's latest culinary adventures. He detailed how their son displayed a clear dislike for the Bekka beet puree, creating a playful narrative around Orion's discerning taste buds. The message was infused with a touch of humour, showcasing Tech's analytical mind even in the midst of parenting updates. As he sent the message, Tech couldn't help but anticipate Amanda's response, knowing she would likely find amusement in Orion's developing preferences. The exchange of such updates became a small yet cherished routine, reinforcing the connection between Tech and Amanda despite the physical distance that separated them. Amanda's response brought a warm smile to Tech's face as he read her words on the datapad. Despite the challenges and distance, the shared moments of Orion's growth and antics provided a sense of unity. Tech typed back a message expressing his own anticipation for their eventual reunion, acknowledging that the video updates were a small but precious way to bridge the gap between them. The exchange, while brief, carried the undercurrent of shared parenthood and the longing for the day when they could experience these moments together in person.

After another mission, the strange yet loving small family, decides to check out the local market. The marketplace bustled with activity as the squad strolled through, drawing curious glances from the locals who weren't accustomed to seeing that strange looking clones, let alone a baby adorned in miniature armour. Orion, snugly secured in his carrier on Tech's chest, seemed unfazed by the attention, his bright blue eyes wide and curious. Wrecker couldn't help but enjoy the reactions, grinning broadly as he noticed people pointing and whispering. "Hey, little buddy, you're a star!" he teased, making goofy faces to entertain Orion, who responded with a happy gurgle.

Crosshair, typically indifferent to such attention, observed the surroundings with his sharp eyes, ensuring there was no potential threat. Echo, having experience in blending in, tried to keep a low profile, but the unique sight of a baby in armour was hard to miss. He would much rather go about it quietly and unseen.

Tech, while acknowledging the attention, focused on his surroundings, scanning the market for potential supplies or information that could proof valuable later on. Amidst the glances and whispers, the squad continued their stroll, a unique family unit drawing eyes in the busy marketplace. Orion's happy babbling filled the air as he smacked his tiny hands against Tech's cheeks. Tech, undeterred by the playful assault, chuckled softly, enjoying the bonding moment with his son. The locals, witnessing the adorable interaction, couldn't help but smile at the sight of the miniature clone trooper engaging with his father.

Wrecker, noticing the attention, decided to join in the fun. "Looks like he's practicing his combat moves, Tech!" he exclaimed, earning more giggles from Orion. Crosshair smirked at the playful scene but continued to keep a vigilant eye on their surroundings. Tech, with his son's laughter echoing in his ears, couldn't help but feel a warmth in his chest. Despite the curious gazes of the marketgoers(?), the squad continued their stroll, creating a memorable scene that would be etched in the memories of those who witnessed the unique family dynamics of Clone Force 99.

But soon Wrecker spots a stall with a bunch of stuffed animals. “Tech, look at those. Orion needs them!” “Sure Orion needs them or you want them?” Crosshair asks as he follows Wrecker’s gaze. “Orion has quite enough of stuffed animals. All which are still stored away. Besides these look also rather large to have any use for Orion as of now.” Tech states matter-of-factly as he pushes his goggles up yet again.

Wrecker, undeterred by Tech's reasoning, grins widely at the bantha stuffie. "Come on, Tech, he needs a bantha buddy!" Wrecker insists, picking up the oversized plush toy and gesturing at its impressive size. "Imagine him hugging it. It's perfect!" Crosshair, with a smirk, adds, "Yeah, Tech, he's got a point. Plus, it's bigger than Orion, he'll love it." Only fueling Wrecker's resolve more.

Tech sighs, realizing he might be outnumbered in this particular decision. "Fine, get it, but only if he doesn't have trouble sleeping with it later on," he concedes, knowing that Orion's comfort is the top priority. Wrecker happily purchases the bantha stuffie, imagining the joy it will bring to Orion. As they continue their stroll through the market, Wrecker proudly carries the large plush, excited about the surprise gift for their youngest squad member.

As Orion becomes rather fussy, his tiny fists now smacking at his father’s chin, Tech moving his fingers into the carrier to check Orion’s diaper, recognizing the urgency of the situation, quickly scans the market for a suitable spot. Spotting a nearby restroom, he swiftly navigates toward it, all the while soothing Orion with a gentle sway. Once inside the restroom, Tech efficiently changes Orion's diaper, ensuring his son's comfort while managing to keep the process discreet. As he finishes up, Tech looks down at Orion with a smile, reassuring him softly. “All better little trooper.” With the diaper changed and the fussy episode resolved, they resume their stroll through the market, determined to enjoy the rest of their outing.

Wrecker's eyes light up with excitement as he spots a tauntaun stuffie at another stall. The thought of adding another plush companion to Orion's collection seems irresistible to him. Without hesitation, he picks up the tauntaun plush, comparing it to the bantha one he already acquired. Echo, amused by Wrecker's enthusiasm, raises an eyebrow and remarks, "Another one, Wrecker? Orion might end up with a whole menagerie of plush creatures."

Wrecker grins, undeterred, "Can't have too many buddies! Besides, this one's a tauntaun. It's different!" Crosshair, leaning against the stall, smirks and adds, "Well, if the kid's going to have a plush army, might as well make it diverse."

Tech shakes his head with a small smile, realizing that this impromptu plush collection is becoming a new tradition within their unique family dynamic. “Wrecker really he has no need for all those yet. He actually plays with everything his hands are able to grasp. They will collect dust, till it is safe enough for Orion to have them.” Wrecker ignoring Tech, satisfied with his choice, secures the tauntaun plush alongside the bantha one under his arm, ready to present it to Orion.

Tech looks for some kind of help to Hunter, before the whole plush thing escalates. “Nope, don’t look at me for help. I bought him a Porg one too. Smaller than those, but it is our choice how we spent our credits.” Hunter states with a grin. "And besides, this is your fault for bringing a baby to the squad." He adds, earning a laugh from the others. And Tech just sighs, they probably never going to live him that down, despite the love they have for their nephew.

As the squad continues their market exploration, Wrecker eagerly anticipates Orion's reaction to the new addition to his growing plush companions. The camaraderie and shared moments, whether in the heat of a mission or the light-heartedness of a market stroll, solidify the unbreakable bond among the clone brothers and their pint-sized addition.

Chapter 55

Reblogs are very welcome and I am open for feedback, as english is not my first language, so maybe my sentences may be weird sometimes, or I write a word wrong even with google, or I use a wrong word for an item.

Tag: @spectacular-skywalker @aalizazareth @neyswxrld @clonethirstingisreal @sleepycreativewriter @moonwreckd @sskim-milkk

[izicodes]

Monk Mode | Study Hack

I read an article on Business Insider that was called "How The 'Monk Mode' Productivity Hack Cured My Procrastination" and I was intrigued because I never heard of a study hack like this before! I learnt a lot from that post and researched more about it, so I'm here to share what I found! Hopefully it'll help someone!

So, are you struggling to concentrate on your work or studies? "Monk Mode" might be the solution for you! By eliminating distractions and committing to a single task, you can achieve a state of intense focus and productivity.

Learn about how to enter "Monk Mode" and improve your concentration and results~!

What is Monk Mode?

Monk Mode is a term used to describe an intense and focused approach to studying or working. It involves eliminating distractions and other activities that may interfere with your concentration, and committing to a single task for an extended period of time.

“Monk mode is going into a hyperbolic chamber, where you can go to do a maximum amount of training in a short amount of time. It is dialing in on what’s really important and eliminating everything that’s not important so you can have the time, energy, focus, and money to really create what it is that you want.” - Gavin Speaks on YouTube

When you enter Monk Mode, you essentially dedicate yourself entirely to your studies, blocking out all other distractions and activities until you have achieved your goal. This can involve turning off your phone or other electronic devices, avoiding social media, limiting interactions with others, and even setting up a designated study space that is free from distractions.

The steps to Monk Mode

Create a distraction-free environment

Set a clear goal

Prioritize your work

Eliminate decision fatigue by planning ahead

Create to-do lists

No multitasking

Set a realistic timeframe to be in Monk Mode

Take breaks

Stay hydrated

Use headphones

Limit social interactions

Use productivity tools

Stay consistent as it creates a habit

Evaluating your session at the end

Celebrate your successes

In terms of productivity tools, you could use the Pomodoro technique, "Eat The Frog", time blocking, Eisenhower Matrix, Kanban boards, mind mapping and 80/20 rule (also known as the Pareto Principle)! I'll make a post about these soon!

The Goal?

The goal of "Monk Mode" is to maximize your focus and productivity by minimizing any potential distractions or interruptions. This can help you to stay on track and achieve your goals in a more efficient and effective manner, allowing you to make the most of your study time and achieve better results.

Here are some addition articles to read about Monk Mode:

How the Monk Mode productivity hack cured my procrastination - LINK

What is Monk Mode? Monk Mode Benefits, Strategies, and Planning - LINK

How to use the ‘Monk Mode’ productivity and life hack - LINK

What is 'monk mode' and how can it boost productivity? - LINK

Hopefully this helps someone out there, especially my fellow programmers who are learning new languages/technologies! Thanks for reading and happy coding! 😸👍🏾💗

[maaarine]

The Myth of Normal: Trauma, Illness and Healing in a Toxic Culture (Gabor Maté, 2022)

“There is nothing radical about the idea that certain personality traits can pose risks for illness; in fact, it is a restatement in modern scientific terms of insights that date far back. (…)

Whether a person exhibits one, a few, or every one of these features, they all, each in their own way, speak to self-suppression and/or repression. 

I have found them not only present but prominent among people with all manner of chronic illnesses, from cancer to autoimmune disease to persistent skin conditions, through a gamut of maladies including migraine headaches, fibromyalgia, endometriosis, myalgic encephalomyelitis (ME), also known as chronic fatigue syndrome, and many others. 

In no particular order, these traits are 

an automatic and compulsive concern for the emotional needs of others, while ignoring one’s own; 

rigid identification with social role, duty, and responsibility (which is closely related to the next point); 

overdriven, externally focused multitasking hyper-responsibility, based on the conviction that one must justify one’s existence by doing and giving; 

repression of healthy, self-protective aggression and anger; 

and harboring and compulsively acting out two beliefs: “I am responsible for how other people feel” and “I must never disappoint anyone.”

These characteristics have nothing to do with will or conscious choice. 

No one wakes up in the morning and decides, “Today I’ll put the needs of the whole world foremost, disregarding my own,” or “I can’t wait to stuff down my anger and frustration and put on a happy face instead.” 

Nor is anyone born with such traits: if you’ve ever met a newborn infant, you know they have zero compunction about expressing their feelings, nor do they think twice before crying lest they inconvenience someone else. 

The reasons these habits of personality, as we might call them, develop and grow to prominence in some people are both fascinating and sobering. 

At root they are coping patterns, adaptations originally formed to preserve something essential and nonnegotiable. 

Why these features and their striking prevalence in the personalities of chronically ill people are so often overlooked—or missed entirely—goes to the heart of our theme: they are among the most normalized ways of being in this culture. 

Normalized how? Largely by being regarded as admirable strengths rather than potential liabilities.”

[ordinalastronaut]

From Now Until Forever (pt.3)

a/n : a follow up to chapter one (technically). Back to Maria's POV with some other friendly faces in the mix. I think I have one more chapter in the tank on this story before it's over. After that, I might move it to AO3, I might not, no clue but I hope you enjoy and have a great week, reader

summary : Maria's trying to come to terms with a life altering injury while returning to the life she no longer has. Natasha just wants her wife to be happy.

Other tags: established blackhill, mentions of injury, tattooed Maria Hill, because I can't help it, supportive Natasha, best friend Laura to the rescue, Service dog mentioned

word count : 2.7k

❖𐅡❖𐅡❖𐅡❖𐅡❖𐅡❖𐅡❖𐅡❖𐅡❖𐅡❖𐅡❖𐅡❖𐅡❖𐅡❖𐅡❖𐅡❖𐅡❖

“Alright so it looks like we just need two cans of tomatoes and some garlic and that should do it,” Natasha looked up from the list Laura had sent them with. 

Maria pushed past the fatigue that slowly crept over the right side of her body, not wanting to think about the cane she had left in the car. She had made her decision and now she needed to stick by it. 

“The garlic is on the other side of the store,” the brunette motioned with her left hand, “If you want to go get it, I bet you’ll still beat me to the end of the aisle if I pick up the tomatoes.”

“Are you just saying that so you get to see that dog by yourself?” Natasha used her chin to motion to the service dog that was walking dutifully next to its owner in front of them.

“Who? Me?” Maria pretended to gasp, “I’d never deny you the opportunity to look at a dog. I think I explicitly said that in my vows.”

“That’s true,” the Russian nodded and looked once more at the list and then back to the produce section with a sigh, “okay fine, meet you back here after I get the garlic, no dog looking without me.”

The Commander smiled, nodded, and tried her best not to look like she was about to collapse as she took the cart in her hands and ever so slowly pushed it down the aisle. Section by section she balanced the task of staying upright and searching the cans of tomatoes for the right brand. Her occupational therapist would be over the moon at her “real-world application” of multitasking. 

She was halfway down the row when she finally found them and used the item in her hands to keep her from falling over. The wheels held as she bent down, but seemed to have a mind of her own as she stood up and went careening into the cart next to her. 

“Sorry,” Maria ground out as she regained control of the shopping cart, willing the embarrassment out of her cheeks as her hands threatened to spasm and drop the can in her left hand. 

“No problem at all,” the man gave her a broad smile as he straightened out his own cart. 

That was when Maria noticed the other aspect of the man, his left leg ended in a sleek black prosthetic. She only felt bad about staring for half a second when she realized the man was taking in the surgical scars that marred most of the tattoos she had. 

“They looked better a little over a year ago,” she joked and forced herself not to turn her body to hide the right side. 

“Would you believe me if I said I had a calf tattoo up until a few years ago?” The man laughed and motioned to his leg, or lack thereof.

Maria winced as she placed the cans in her cart, “bummer.”

“Blake,” the man stuck out his hand. 

“Maria,” the Commander offered hers back, knowing that her handshake would be nothing of what it once was. 

“This is Molly,” he motioned to the dog in front of him, “you can pet her if you’d like.” 

“My wife’s going to lose her mind if she finds out I got to pet this cutie,” and yet she couldn’t help but stick her hand out and let the dog sniff it before scratching right behind her ear.

Molly’s tongue flopped out of her mouth as she soaked up the affection. 

“You two dog people?” Blake asked with another easy smile. 

“Oh yeah, we were about to rescue one before…” she motioned with her left hand to the other side of her body, “and nowit doesn’t seem like it’s in the cards.”

The man hummed, “I’m the opposite, never a big fan of them before the accident. Now I couldn’t picture my life without her.”

Maria got one final dog pet before she looked up again. “That’s really nice.”

A few minutes passed as they continued to talk, and Maria continued to pet the dog in front of her. She had learned that they were local and had offered up that she and Natasha were just in town visiting. They both wanted to ask about the other's injuries, but they both kept their questions to themselves. 

“She’s spoiled rotten, I can tell you that much,” Blake laughed, “I swear when I take her to the VA she doesn’t even look at other dogs, thinks she’s one of the humans.”

“She should,” Maria smiled, “I’ve spent my fair share of time in the VA, everyone who works in those buildings deserves to be pampered.”

“You ever thought about a working dog?” Blake asked, genuine interest in his features, “A service dog?” 

“Oh- no, no I-” she shook her head and grabbed onto the handle of the cart once more for stability, “my mobility is pretty much tapped out after a grocery trip. I’m in no shape to look after a dog.”

“There are actually a lot of dogs who are great for mobility and low maintenance-”

Whatever else he was about to say was cut off by a slight squeal from the other end of the aisle as Natasha’s eyes got even bigger now that she saw the proximity of Maria’s hand to Molly’s head. 

“My wife,” Maria chuckled as the Russian speed walked to where they stood. 

“May I?” Natasha didn’t bother to introduce herself as she buzzed with excitement next to the dog. 

“Go for it,” Blake smiled and pulled out his wallet from his back pocket, “listen, if you ever want to learn more, I’m part of a service dog support group. Lots of good working dogs, and even more washed-up vets like me.”

Maria took the card in slightly shaking hands, intending to stick it in her own pocket and never look at it again.

“Give me a call if you want to learn anymore,” Blake smiled, “might not seem as impossible to have someone like Molly as you think it is.”

“Thanks,” she nodded and waved her goodbye to them both as they walked further down the aisle.  

She expected the Russian to make a joke about how Maria did in fact dog-look without her, but instead, the woman just gave her a soft smile as she walked alongside her. Maria continued to push the cart and think about the man not only as they paid for their groceries, but as she helped Laura with dinner. 

“You’re quiet,” the woman pointed out as she used the can opener, “what are you thinking about?”

“I’m… I’m probably not going to get all that much better, Laur,” she flexed her hands under the water as she washed the last cup in the sink. 

The water was blessedly warm and just for a moment allowed her right hand to open up fully. She kept her voice low as she spoke, knowing that Clint and Natasha in the living room wouldn’t let her say such things. 

But Laura was different, she just cocked her head to the side and stirred the sauce in front of her. She always let Maria, or anyone really, speak their minds before she offered any advice. 

“Physical therapy is going well but,” Maria turned off the water and felt her hand once again curled into a fist, “I haven’t made any improvements in the last 6 months. I looked it up and most people online say that this could be me hitting a plateau but some say that it could just be the max of what my body can do now.”

She looked at the jar next to her that she couldn’t open, one that hadn’t even been that tightly screwed on, and sighed.  

“And what do your therapists say?” the woman asked just as quietly. 

“That it’s too soon to tell, but… but I know my body and I don’t think it’s ever going to be the way it used to be.”

“Ria, they told you that from the beginning,” Laura offered. 

She was right the doctors had told her about that, Laura had been present for the conversation, probably more present than Maria given how many painkillers she was on.  

“I thought I would get further before I hit this wall,” she waved her left hand dismissively, “I thought I would have something at least close to my old life.”

“You might, this could just be a plateau that you will work through and get closer to getting to that point again,” Laura added fresh basil to the sauce before turning around and giving Maria her undivided attention, “is it really about not being able to open jars?”

Maria stood and looked at the jar once more, then her hand, before shaking her head. 

“I know that Tasha’s still turning down missions because she’s scared to leave me in DC alone.”

Laura didn’t deny this, didn’t try to make her feel better, she just nodded, “You’re proud and stubborn, and I don’t think the word ‘assistance’ is in your vocabulary Maria Hill.”

The Commander kept her eyes focused on her hands. 

“I think she’s scared that she’s going to go on a mission and come back to… well the worst case scenario for someone who has physical limitations and no intention of asking for help,” the woman took Maria’s scarred hand in her own, “you have to remember, you weren’t the only one who went through something traumatic that day.”

Maria let the hand around her own keep her grounded as she recalled what she had been told. Natasha had seen the video of Maria’s body moments after the bullet hit her and she fell out of the helicopter; she had been one of the first ones to see her both before and after her surgeries. Natasha had thought, multiple times, that her wife would die.  

“It’s going to be hard for her not to worry,” the woman ran her thumb down one of the longer scars on Maria’s hand. 

“I know.”

“Talk to her.”

The brunette nodded knowing that once again, Laura was right. 

She thought about how to say all of this to her own wife, mapping out exactly what to tell her to make Natasha finally return to SHIELD in the way she should. Of course, none of it went to plan and it ended with the same conversation each of these arguments did. 

“Then tell me, Tasha,” Maria sighed, “tell me what it would take for you to get back to the way your life used to be.”

“I don’t need to go back to that life,” the Russian shook her head with a sad smile, “I’m happy with where we are.”

There was some truth to it, but she had known her wife for long enough to know it wasn’t the whole story. She missed going on missions that she was part of from the beginning to the end, not the ones she and Clint took now where they handed it over as soon as they got enough intel.  

“No bullshit Natasha,” Maria reached out and placed her hand on her wife’s thigh as they sat on the edge of their bed in the guest room, “I know you want to go back into the field, for missions that don’t end in you handing over your work to B rate teams.”

The redhead said nothing as she absentmindedly traced over the dark ink that covered most of her wife's arm. The tattoos were no longer perfect, not much outside Natasha was, and so she pushed and asked again. 

“Tasha, tell me, what would it take for you to get back out there?”

Natasha gave her the same look she always did right before she requested the same thing, “you to use the cane and keep your phone on you at every moment of the day.”  

“The phone I can do, I can get better about that,” Maria nodded knowing that she would have to break the habit of it staying in her desk drawer or the coffee table for most of the day. 

“And the cane, Ria,” Natasha pushed. 

The Commander said nothing, they both knew how she felt about the mobility device. She had taken one look at it a few days after she started walking again and focused all of her energy on her lower limb PT for months just so she didn’t have to use it. She hated the sound it made, the way it looked, and more importantly the looks of pity she had when she was forced to use it. 

“It would make me feel better, I wouldn’t worry if I knew you were using it, and if anything happened you would be able to call someone for help,” her wife spoke softly, “without those two things, I need to physically see for myself that you’re okay every day.”

“Then I’ll send you a picture or… or…” the brunette shook her head. 

“You know I can’t look at my phone when I’m in the field most of the time.”

“The cane isn’t magic, it’s not going to guarantee that I don’t fall,” Maria dug her heels in.

“Those two things are the only way I’ll get any piece of mind when I’m gone,” Natasha said firmly in her own position, “I could be gone for days, and if you fell and couldn’t get back up?” 

Maria knew where this conversation was headed, knew that if they discussed it any more Natasha would talk herself out of ever going on a mission again. 

So blue eyes closed for a second as Maria nodded, “I’ll keep thinking about it. I’m going to go get some water.”

Slowly, she exited the room and made her way into the kitchen. She grabbed a plastic cup she was positive she couldn’t break if her hand spasmed and filled it with water. The moon was high in the sky, covering every surface in a cool blue hue as she thought about what her wife was requesting. 

She was being selfish by refusing the cane, it was one small thing for her to change so that Natasha could get back to a little more normality in her life. It needed to be done, she needed to just get over herself and suck it up and do it. Over and over again she told herself that and over and over again she tried to push the pit in her stomach away at the thought of how everyone would stare at her, see her as weak. 

But she loved her wife, loved her enough to do this for her so they could go on living the lives they had always dreamed of. Maria closed her eyes and thought about the life they had pictured, her and Natasha, maybe a kid or two, definitely a dog-

Her mind slowed as she thought about the dog she had seen earlier that day, the one that had helped the man with his everyday life. She shook her head, it wasn’t the same and she would just be trading one reason for stares for another. But it would be different, it would be…

Maria shook her head once more, squared her shoulders, and decided she would tell her wife that she was willing to use the cane, there wasn’t another option. She turned and went to leave the kitchen but stopped as she took in the faded photograph that was in front of her. 

There in the top left corner of the fridge, was one of Maria’s favorite photos of all time, the same one that adorned their own refrigerator at home. A gap-toothed blonde girl and a redhead trying to hide her smile in front of a sign that read “Tiboldt’s Circus”. It was an innocent enough picture, but a closer look revealed a boy in the background getting ready to perform, a bow strapped across his back as he talked to an older blonde teenager. 

Maria Hill didn’t believe in coincidences; for her, everything in life happened for a reason. Including the accident, including her journey to SHIELD, and including the two kids in Ohio who met years before they would end up saving each other in their own ways. 

It took her two tries to pull the business card out of her pocket, her fingers not cooperating in the way she wanted them to, and leaving it on the kitchen table. Tomorrow morning she would call the gentleman, tomorrow morning she would see if maybe there was another option out there. Maybe one that would save her in its own way. 

[helloescapist]

Can you do romantic modern au HCs for daki and a female y/n the same age whos kinda nerdy and introverted but very patient and affectionate towards daki? Kind of like an opposites attract sort of thing, like maybe they met in class and get paired together for a group project, and things slowly escalate from there? Like Daki eventually grows a soft spot for y/n

-🐼

hello, hello, 🐼

I kind of love the idea of Daki falling for a shyer personality, one that struggles with socializing, and easily nervous. Specifically, when we consider that Daki was a oiran in her human life as a means of survival, and even continuing the line of work in her demon rebirth, Daki essentially is predisposed to considering other women as threats whether its status or financial. Oirans are terrifying--- just imagining Daki with a female she can actually grow to trust and love over time is wholesome fluff I need.

And all of a sudden—I’m just going to have to break this into two parts. That’s really all there is to it. Oh the wellllllll

Sincerely, | Daki

Word Count: 2382

Setting: Daki x fem!reader

Content Warning(s): suggestive, ecchi content, reader is a low key perv (but like, who isn't in their teen years), will have mentions of assault in parts to come, girlxgirl, yuri, modern AU

Summary: an unlikely train encounter, and questionable tutoring.

A/N: the amount of effort I put into calculating how tall Daki would likely be is just… why am I like this? Spoiler alert, she is likely around 5’2-5’4, but as she appears tall for her era when you take away her shoes, such as when you view her height in comparison to Koinatsu, but for the purpose of adapting her to a modern AU, I would put her height at 5’6, as statistics show the average female height to be 5’4. Part II , headcanons

The clench of your bag in your hand, as your other hand fought to reach the handgrip. The reach just escaping your grasp, the tips of your fingers brushed against pull. The sea of bodies that pressed against your form, jostling you to and fro despite the reach of your fingers. The cram of suits, the buttons threatening to break skin as it scraped across your cheek. Early morning commuters, businessmen and women alike operating on late hours, and caffeine. Dedicated to daily survival, murmured of yawns, dreary in their stark existence. Old men that sighed into newspapers, flipped through pages and drew exhaustion upon weary bones. Their fatigue met only by the civil servants that mentally prepared themselves for the hour to come. Laborers corralled next to office workers, college students shuffled between members of the workface, their discussions of lectures hollow against the weight of data, and meetings. Ironic in the experience against the new to the world; the rare high school student such as yourself lost amongst the crowd. Victims to the push and pull of the fluctuation of passengers, your low status upon the totem pole revealed by the flutter of your school uniform as you fought against the sea of bodies, the grit of your teeth before managing your weight to the tip of your toes, the thread of your fingers secured at the caught of the metal in your palm. The rattle of the train, the murmurs of the morning as you allowed the breath to release from your lungs Struggled to multitask holding your belongings, the train rail, and push your glasses up the bridge of your nose. The murmuring of giggling girls drawing your attention out of sincere curiosity. The press of the back of hand from one to another, snickers that fell pass distinct neckties, and khaki blazers. Pressed uniforms, meticulously maintained as their fingernails, hair styled and fashioned as their sneers fell upon glossed lips. Fresh faces that fell upon haughty glares upon a girl seated amongst the crowd. Having secured a rare seating opportunity though the lecturers glances of the older men that lamented near the seats hinted that the opportunity had not afforded itself. Yet, the group of onlookers merely whispered ideal gossips, painted a portrait of a whore amongst faculty members. Murmured poisonous accusations, and delved details shameless of their surroundings. The clench of your jaw, fumbling upon the bag in your hand as your eyes caught upon the victim of their scandalous discussion.

              Moonlight kissed hair that drew the breath from your lungs, threatened to smother you with its vision. The high of her ponytail reminiscent of the beauty of oirans of the past, intentionally placed hair pins that met the curls that formed at her hips. Thick locks that captivated every curve, danced upon ever trace of her silhouette. Shuddered the chill of winter down your spine. The reveal of her breast, openly exposed, the buttons of her white uniform blouse intentionally left undone, snug against the cup of her form, the peak of—lace? W-why?  S-she was clearly a high school student, was she not? Ah, n-no maybe it’s a costume. The small shift of her hips reflected the sheer material of her thigh highs as she rolled her pelvis into the seat. The adjustment having drawn a small scrap of fabric, a skirt, and its pattern that drew the heat of your cheeks in one swift strike. As though you had been slapped with the reality of its familiarity—n-nope. Not a costume, the telling pattern back and red plaid patterns, the thin strip of black that drew at the pleating of the skirts. Her brown loafers school issued as the very ones you wore. Though your uniform had never… left such a lasting impression as the one she adorned. The fairness of her skin that the peeks of her uniform provided despite the chilly weather February provided was delicate as though she was a portrait painted by Tsukuyomi-no-Mikoto. The celestial god the only one capable of providing such beauty upon the earth, the draw of her breast and the distinct hiss that rumbled at the base of her throat.  The meticulously draw of kitten eyeliner dipped into shades of crimson rouge, and the press of her lips into a disapproving scowl. Lush, summer grass that threatened the very existence of winter’s chill upon your spine. Rattled your bones with the press of her painted lips together as her eyebrows met a furrow.

“What, are you look at?”

Her beauty unescapable, deadly as delicate. Caught amongst her glare, the point of her sharp eyes, becoming aware of the ends of her Chrysoberyl hair that appeared as though it had captivated her hiss, and robbed you of your own voice. The small shiver that met at your shoulders as you dumbly found yourself drawing your finger to your face, “M-me?” The horrific realization that you had been caught ogling her, only amplified by the chuckles of the girls that had drawn you into this situation. The sharp tint of her eyelashes, long and lush as they captivated your own. Willing your glasses at the tip of your nose to shield you from her edged lour. The flare of her breast, i-it was not your fault that you gaze had drifted as you forced your hand from the pull, tucking your finger tips to fumble with your eyewear. Struggled to choke down the lump that formed in your throat, aware of her flaring temper as she pulled herself to her feet. Abandoning her seat, and ignoring the appealing way that older men traced her steps. The shameful realization that, perhaps she was accustomed to men leering at her, and found your wandering gaze a peculiarity. Though you had not the opportunity to rationalize why she had fault with yours, nor how horrified that you were on pare with perverted old man. Fumbled with your glasses, tucked awkwardly at the strands of your hair that fell to your ears, as you attempted to find any way out of this. The draw of her pointed glare down upon you, standing a few inches taller than yourself. The hint of osmanthus followed a spice you could not name tantalized your senses, the sputtering realization of how hard her perfume had hit you left you choking on your lips.

The ding of the station, hitched upon the knot of the track. The rock of bodies, pressed every which way, the shutter of the girl before you rocked backwards, pinioned against you as you struggled to find your footing. The slam of your hand into the window pain at her head. The bend of her knees, and the shocked quiver of her pupils. Rattled at the pinion of her body pressed beneath your own lsot amongst the shuffle of passengers. All of the shoujo-ai you had read in your lives could not have prepared you for this moment. K-Kabedon?! The internal screaming upon your heart, shattered your brain. Short circuited all thought presses, blissfully unaware of the growing wrath that seethed beneath you alongside the ding of the train doors. Foreboding, and impending the girl before you descent to the platform. The rattle of her skirt hiked up, the rack of your form pressed into her. Old men that chuckled as they rushed to their offices; college students that lingered far longer than you’d prefer. Prayed that none of the snickers, utilized cellphone cameras, nor instilled this moment for later purposes. The rattle of your heart, the spread of her hair beneath you despite the obvious seething wrath that immolated across her doll like features. The green strands of her hair that coiled beneath her, the scathing glower that caught amongst your own. The scream of fury that threatened the cull of her throat, quivered her bones as the veins began to pop in her forehead, only furthered by your insufferable, incoherent apologies. Fumbled over your belongings. Snagged your bag, shoved your glasses up the bridge of your nose, and retreated.

If there was a god, he was laughing. Delighting in your misery. Savoring the anguish, ignored the prayers you uttered in horrified internal screaming, begging him to allow the earth to swallow you whole as your teacher stood before you. Ignorant to your obvious apparel, all bartering from your swearing off meat to joining a nunnery intentionally ignored for sheer folly. No, no god must be a woman, it was the only explanation to the sight before you. Aoki-sensei’s clueless smile, eyes shut, and proud of his own suggestion. Tutoring, assisting another student’s preparation for college exams, and the very subject before you. D-daki, he had said with such delight upon introducing her. Absolutely blind to the turbulent forces that circled around him. The coil of a viper posed and agitated. Her green eyes flaring the grit of her teeth. The small slip of her canines against pursed rouged lips. Her freshly manicured nails rapped against the desk before digging into the wood grain. Twitching eyebrows, wrinkled nose, as the green mamba hissed, “Are you fucking kidding me?”

              No, no it appears not.

              Who says that the gods do not have a sense of humor?

It had been a few weeks of—could you really call this studying? Any attempt to navigate course material fell on deaf ears. Was muddled by the click of her nails against the desk, the pop of bubblegum, or the occasional flip of a fashion magazine. The evidence of her bubbling rage at each pointed glare she shot you when you attempted to stutter for her attention. The break of your voice, a higher pitch due to your duress than you’d like to admit, and yet despite the notable hostility, she had continued to attend the— “study” sessions. Her irritability having reached an all time high today as her bubblegum popped, the twitch of her lip-enhancer glossed lips quipped with the wrinkle of her nose. The vein in her head practically throbbing with each nervous fumble you could conjure. The chalk practically shaking in your hand as you attempted to demonstrate the proper algebraic equation. The searing lesions her vision threatened to brand into your back as the chalk nervously rattled against the chalkboard. An incomprehensible tapped scribble as you forced an awkward smile, attempting to find your voice. The cup of your hair cut off at your ears and utilizing the opportunity to press up your glasses in an attempt to avoid her eye. Each movement betraying your nervousness had only tempted her ire. The dodged glances when Daki sought your gaze, frail voice that lacked any resolve. She had even witnessed your knees clatter against one another, the height of her panty hose unable to shield the obvious state of tremors that rolled up your spine every time she watched your back diligently scribble incomprehensible. A flush guaranteed to kidnap your fatures, and your gaze from her own when the taller girl successfully met your gaze—what fucking help were you supposed to be to her?

              You couldn’t even help your fucking self.

              The knot of a mocked sticker—an immature attempt at humor from one of your female classmates that had escaped your notice. Successfully implemented when she had patted you on the shoulder before your tutoring session had begun, the smug grin and how boldly the little bitch had met Daki’s eyes had been enough to piss her off, but met face to face with the rainbow flag and homophobic slur stickered  to your collar had her boiling. The grip of her magazine crumbled between clenched fists; she had attempted to remove it. She had, but ever action had a reaction. Her close proximity regardless of how perfectly timed, or well intended, resulted in you trembling and babbling. It only pissed her off more. How were YOU supposed to help her? With your little insult sticker, and inability to even make eye contact—fuck how pathetic must she be to seek your HELP? The thought had dropped her brows to the point that they dipped at her enhanced eyelashes, threatened to simmer over as though she were a neglected pot. She could feel her temper boil, and her teeth scrapping against one another before she allowed it to steer her.

              “What the fuck is your problem?” Daki seethed, slamming her hands to her desk, forcing her chair back in a rattling screech of her chair across the floor. Tremored your bones and drew your attention to her in shock worthy of some B horror film. The click of her school issue indoor shoes clapped harder and harder with each step forward, as you attempted to position the podium between the two of you. “Are you screwing with me? Pisses me off seeing you worm around like this?”

              Manicured nails caught the collar of your school uniform, her height foreboding against your own as she leaned forward. Daring your averted eyes to catch her own, pressing her gaze against you as the vein in her forehead threatened to burst the longer, she glowered at you. The clench of her canine teeth against one another before shoving you from her sight. Exasperated pursed rogued lips that grunted dissatisfaction with your response, “Whatever, I don’t need this.”  Daki’s absence in the classroom marked only by the quite of an abandoned lecture, the most peculiar sticker discarded in the trash on her way out, and the sinking pit in your stomach that something, something was wrong.

[bigfan-fanfic]

Sensory Overload (Male!Reader x Kaidan Alenko)

Could I request just some fluffy stuff with Kaidan.  Maybe he meets a guy in a support group for biotics that have/have had issues with their chips and the two just hit it off?  All that first date cuteness and a maybe a little bit of one-upping each other with light biotic tricks.

He gets placed with mostly L2s, like him.

That way they're likely to face similar issues with their biotic implants, although not all of them are in active military service like Kaidan is.

Nor is any other L2 as likely to be putting their implants under as much stress as him.

The biotic support group mainly caters to L2s, so they're all roughly of similar age. And their groups are generally about 4 or 5 people, sorted by severity of reported symptoms so they can have similar experiences to talk about.

Kaidan's suffered some bad migraines and discomfort, but counts himself lucky enough not to have developed any of the other side effects, from blindness or deafness to schizophrenia or hallucinations.

That's where he meets you.

It's a place of relief, where you can finally be with people who "get" it, who don't look at you funny for whining about a headache, or complaining about the implants.

Especially when you all were implanted before you could have had any choice in the matter.

But really, while you can all commiserate, it's even more helpful to see that others can live and thrive too - that you're not alone.

Kaidan smiles when you talk in group about how you used to be ambivalent to downright resentful about your powers, but you've come to accept them as part of who you are, and you actually do enjoy the good that comes with the bad.

Kaidan's on an extended shore leave, so... he asks you out.

You two already know each other fairly well from group, so dinner isn't the usual nervous and fidgety affair of a typical first date.

He asks you back to his apartment on the Citadel to cook together, since neither of you feels like a restaurant, and so the date begins.

"It's nice to see you out of your military fatigues."

"What, did you think I wore them all the time?" he chuckles. "Or is that a subtle way of telling me that I'm underdressed?"

You take a look down at his white t-shirt and cargo pants. "To be honest, you look good - even if you still kinda dress military."

He laughs. "Are you gonna ogle or help? I have some veggies that need chopping."

"I happen to be an excellent multitasker." you grin, before using your biotics to deftly summon a chef's knife from the impressive block of kitchen knives on Kaidan's counter and start mincing.

Not to be outdone, Kaidan starts grating some cheese while using his own powers to get some drinks poured.

There's a playful one-upsmanship to the rest of the cooking process, the two of you grinning and showing off both biotic and cooking ability.

"Alright, alright!" you grin as you carry the food to the table and he tops off your drinks. "You win."

"I'm sure I have NO idea what you're talking about." Kaidan smirks, only to be surprised when you biotically pull in his chair and he plops down, the perfect cute surprised expression on his face.

It would bother you that Kaidan seems a little more formal and measured than usual on this first date, except that you already know he's patient and proper to the point of stoicism, so you don't take it for something it's not, and thus push comfortably.

Like sitting next to him instead of across from him so you both can watch something on the holoscreen.

Or offering to wash the dishes, and when he insists on using the dishwasher, playfully teasing him by asking to wash him instead.

"Now, now, that's more of a third date activity for me. Second if you're lucky." He winks.

After dessert and some cuddles as you watch something, you and he seem to realize that your face have been close together for a long while.

Almost on instinct, you both tilt your heads and feel that strange biotic tingle as you kiss - things start to levitate and drift around you as you both lose yourselves, only to run out of air and suddenly focus, everything falling down with pops or clinks or crashes.

"Oops." you chuckle, and Kaidan laughs.

"I'll have to invest in padded flooring. For next time?"

"Next time?"

"I hope you don't think that's the last time I'll be kissing you?"

"It better not be," you grin, and Kaidan kisses you once more.

[finnlongman]

hi, I just found your blog :)

If I may ask, how in the world did you manage to write entire books while also being a PhD student????

Is there a way to not let your PhD consume every waking hour of your life?? :') please tell me your secret

Heh, well, the first thing to note is that I'm in the first year of my PhD, and traditional publishing is slow. So the books I'm talking about right now -- Moth to a Flame and The Wolf and His King -- have been in the works since long before I started my PhD. I originally wrote The Wolf and His King in winter 2019, when I had a full-time job; I originally drafted Moth to a Flame during my full-time MA in 2020. So the PhD is only the latest thing they've had to compete with for my time and attention!

I've always been writing alongside everything else -- I wrote my first novel at 13 and I was writing the whole way through my school years, despite doing a million extra-curriculars. Honestly, I have no idea where I found the energy, but it got me into the habit of writing during lunchbreaks or in short bursts whenever I had the time, and while that's not my preferred way to work these days, it sure did teach me a lot. These days I've got two sets of edits and promo and admin, and the PhD, and my occasional side-gig as a bodhrán player in a couple of trad bands, and whatever other casual work I pick up (today I was invigilating exams), so it's always a balancing act.

But specifically, with these next two books: Moth to a Flame was largely finished before I started my PhD in October, with structural edits done; I was partway through line edits during the first month of my PhD, and then copyedits and proofreading after that. I was doing copyedits over Christmas, including on my phone during a family visit on New Year's Eve. I've been editing The Wolf and His King more recently, with structural edits also happening mainly over Christmas (working on Christmas Day, my favourite) and line-edits happening right now.

Balancing TWAHK with my PhD, or The Butterfly Assassin with my MA (since I sold it at the start of my second semester and that wasn't the best timing), has mostly been about speed and prioritisation. I'm lucky to be a fast writer and a fast reader, so I can get 7k of academic writing on paper in the course of a day or two and therefore keep the wolf (my supervisor) from the door while I run off and do line-edits. Doesn't mean I should, but it happens more than I care to admit. Likewise, I can (and regularly do) edit/rewrite a novel in the space of two weeks, even if that is also not sustainable.

But it's also about being open with my editors (and supervisors) about my deadlines -- e.g. we pulled line-edits for TWAHK forward to March, even though I only submitted structural edits at the start of February and there's often a longer gap, because I'm going to be super busy with PhD work in April ahead of a deadline at the start of May, so I knew I needed to get the bulk of the work out of the way. That means right now, I'm spending more time on writing, but next month, it'll be nearly all academic work.

On really good days I can do both, and usually write for 1-2 hours in the morning, work all afternoon, and then write again in the evenings (this is what I was doing in December with structural edits), but with chronic pain/fatigue and a changeable schedule, that's harder.

Mostly, though, I'm lucky that my adult books and my PhD are very closely related, so a lot of the research I'm doing for the books also feeds into my PhD, and vice versa -- meaning that a lot of the time, I'm multitasking. It was much harder when I was juggling The Butterfly Assassin and my MA, since they had nothing in common; I would basically just focus on one or the other at a time, and was very grateful that we got a slight extension for our thesis submission deadline because of covid or I don't think it would've been in on time.

Oh, and I also don't have a social life (thanks covid + disabilities) so there's that, too. And my house is a mess and I don't eat enough vegetables. But I don't have any caring responsibilities or dependents, and at the moment I don't have fixed hours/work obligations, so that's something.

As for how I used to write when I had a full-time job (and disabilities) (and a social life)... honestly I was definitely writing at work sometimes. And not just on my lunchbreak. 🤫