#i hope to get several chores done this week

[cubot]

Fixed my sink faucet? The button doesn't really move much, but I was able to get it to the normal setting, so I'm going to just not touch it anymore.

Started going through my pantry and tossing shit. Will toss more tomorrow after work, this time from my fridge. I need to just. Reset.

Leaving some things in my bathtub to wash tomorrow, too. Because you know I will want to shower after work and I will get the final dishes done if they're that in my way. Then I can wash out my bathtub completely and feel extra refreshed in a clean shower for a shower.

[phagodyke]

woke up feeling ruffff but took my meds and went back to bed for a while n I feel a bit better

[ephie-om]

Simeon trudges along the soft carpet to answer Purgatory Hall's door. He vaguely remembers someone was supposed to visit, but in his mind's haze he can't seem to recall who. Between the endless explosions from Solomon's room and late nights comforting Luke after a long day, the angel was exhausted.

The front door creaks open to reveal your smiling face. Your smile quickly drops as you take in Simeon's state. He realizes how he must look. Disheveled clothes, oily skin, probably several stains on his robes. He's fairly sure he should be ashamed, but he's too tired. "I apologize, I'm not exactly... put together." He flashes you a quick smile, hoping to dispel your worries.

You tsk at him and gently push past him into the house. An alarm goes off in his mind, a bit too late, that he should be a gracious host and invite you in. But since it's you, he supposes, there's not much point in telling you to make yourself at home. He watches you drop your bag on the floor and shove it out of the way with your foot. You're looking at him, he realizes. Expectantly. "Um... I'm sorry. What?" Your lips twist (in what? Worry? Disappointment? Has he done something wrong?) and you let out a breath.

"I said, I know your roommates have been getting to you." He nods quickly, eager to show he's listening this time. "So I took the liberty of finding them excuses to not be here tonight. They're safe and in good company, but that leaves you here. Alone, with no distractions." You grin at him, almost evilly. "Which means you don't have any excuse to refuse my help."

You make quick work of boiling water for tea and running a bath. Simeon, having been sternly commanded to not help in any way, is perched awkwardly on a stool in the kitchen. He watches you rush back and forth between rooms, making sure neither the kettle nor the tub can overflow. It's almost amusing, watching you run about like this all for him. Yes, he thinks, it's amusing, and endearing, but if he thinks too long about that he might really say something he shouldn't.

You push a mug full of hot tea towards him from across the counter and stare him down until he drinks. It's warm, the warmest, sweetest thing he's tasted for weeks. He didn't even think he liked this blend. There must be something about your fingers making it that dripped pure nectar into it. He sips slowly, letting his tongue wrap around every drop. He wouldn't dare waste a bit of the liquid gold you'd given him. The silence stretches over the kitchen like a warm blanket and he closes his eyes as he drinks. Your footsteps fade as you go to check the bathroom and he finds himself missing the sound of your breathing.

He drains his mug and heaves himself to his feet. You meet him midway to the bathroom and place a warm hand on his shoulder, guiding him down the hall. Only his angel sensibilities stop him from stripping down as soon as he sees the tub. He sees a thick layer of tiny bubbles floating over the water's surface, and a gentle floral scent rises up to greet him. He swears he could kiss you here and now.

You face him, hand on his arm, and he finds every detail of your lips as you speak. "I don't mean for this to be awkward or anything, but I've been tired like this before and I know how hard simple things can be. So I wanted to tell you if you need any help with this, I'll be right here." You turn to walk out, but he catches hold of your hand.

"Please. It's..." He trails off, embarrassed. "My hair. I don't even know how long it's been since I've washed it." You nod and respectfully face the wall as he disrobes. The noise that leaves his mouth as he lowers himself into the water would be sinful anywhere else. He feels the tension is his back loosen as the warm ripples lap against his skin. When did he get so tired? When had moving a single muscle become such a chore?

You settle on the edge of the tub and gently tilt his head back. He hears you rummage around for his shampoo and finally smells that familiar teakwood scent that drifts down from your fingers. You work his hair into a lather, so slowly he thinks you must be trying to put him to sleep. He doesn't even want to look at what color the bubbles must be coming off his hair, so he shuts his eyes and leans back into your hands. You chuckle softly and rinse his head ever so carefully, making sure to shield his eyes. He hears a generous amount of conditioner plop into your palm and you indulge him in what's practically a scalp massage, going over his head with your fingertips again and again.

You gasp softly and your fingers stop. Simeon's eyes snap open in fear, imagining what horrors you could've found in his hair. "I'm so sorry, I knew it was dirty, I shouldn't have-"

"You're glowing."

"Sorry?"

"Simeon, you're glowing."

His arm sloshes up from the depths of the tub as he checks for himself, and sure enough, an ochre glow emanates from under his skin. "Ah. That must be a quirk specific to angels. It's entirely subconscious, because it only happens in times of utmost happiness." You smile wide, fascinated as he explains.

"So that means..." You trail off expectantly.

He blushes and settles back under the water, an excuse to tear himself away from that blinding smile. "It means you make me happy." he says simply. You're silent for a moment as you work and he wonders if that was too much. Your fingers caress the hinge of his jaw and tilt his head back again, and he opens his eyes just in time to be met with your lips pressed to his forehead. It only lasts for a brief moment, but he thinks he could live like this for eternity.

Neither of you say anything as Simeon finally stands and dries off. Neither of you need to. Your hand wraps around his arm and he finds himself not caring the least but about where you're taking him. The two of you end up on the living room couch as you painstakingly detangle his hair while a late-night reality show plays softly in the background. The manners that the Celestial Realm has taught him over centuries remind him he ought to say thank you. He takes a breath, opens his mouth and shuts it again, silently. The silence is comfortable. In a world where everyone talks and no one ever listens, silence is trust. And right now he trusts you more than anything else in the three realms.

[stargirlrchive]

folklore: the 1 ✩ jake sully

masterlist ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ folklore masterlist

summary: widowed!jake sully x female!reader, no use of y/n, angst, marriage of convenience, smut, penetration, p in v, TW!! eluded to death due to child birth

word count: 4,258

yawne (n) - beloved ; oel ngati kameie - i see you

sempul (n) - father ; sa’nok (n) - mother

‘ite (n) - daughter ; ‘itan (n) - son

comments: i love this chapter so bad, i did cry like several times lmao but she's so special to me >:( i hope you all enjoy it as much as i do, minors dni!!! okay byeeee mwahhhh ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

previous ✩ next

- pandora, awa’tula, 2169 -

The kids instantly picked up on the awkward tension that surrounded their parents. It had been weeks since the celebration of the Tulkun arriving, weeks since their parents were carefully treading around each other. Neteyam watched as you picked up around the mauri, paying no mind to Jake as you busied yourself with chores. Jake on the other hand was watching your every move, almost silently begging you to turn and look at him.

It caused an uncomfortable feeling to nestle into Neteyam’s chest as he saw the flicker of sadness swim in his fathers eyes. Truth be told, he had always known something was off, what was wrong about your union he did not know but it was palpable even now. Tuk was trailing behind you, talking excitedly about how she caught several fish that day and all the kids could tell you were not paying attention to the small girl, something that was so unlike you.

Tuk whined, “Sa’nok, you are not listening to me.”

“Yes I am, ‘ite.”

Tuk crossed her arms across her chest, angry tears welling in her eyes as you continued with your task, “Sempul pays attention to me.”

Your back went rigid, you weren't sure why the small girl's words hurt you so deeply, but they did. It might have been all the pent up feelings that were consuming you, you felt that you were being dramatic but you could not help it. Your ears pinned against your head and your eyes were flooded with tears. Tuk had never talked to you that way, none of the kids had.

They had never made you feel like what you were doing wasn't enough, but ugly thoughts swirled your mind that maybe you weren't. Maybe you had never been doing enough, insecurity after insecurity rising to the surface as your hands trembled, “M’sorry Tuk.”

Everyone noticed the wobble of your voice, Lo’ak stood rapidly making quick steps to get to you, “Sa’nok, what is wrong?”

“Nothing Lo’ak, finish your chores so you can head to bed.” You forced a smile onto your face and patted his arm. He scanned over your face and it was as if Lo’ak was seeing you for the first time. Eyes welled with tears, a smile that never reached your eyes. His eyes shifted to his father, something similar to guilt etched into every crevice of his face and it caused a deep anger to bubble in his stomach. He just knew this was his father’s doing. “What did you do?”

Jake’s ears pinned back at the accusatory question, eyes widening at the anger that dripped from his younger sons voice, “Lo’ak-”

Fear settled into you as you noticed how angry Lo’ak was, and despite the scoldings and frustrations he had with Jake, he never spoke to him that way, “Your father has done nothing wrong. Please-just let it go.”

“No! You both-God you both have always been so strange with each other! We all feel it, and it is only getting worse the years that go on.”

Jake had never felt worse, not only had he been hurting you but as well as his kids. He watched Neteyam shift uncomfortably on his feet, Kiri was picking at spare pieces of fabric and Tuk’s head was dipped low, ears tightly pinned to her head and he could tell the small girl was crying.

“With the exception of Tuk, none of us are small children and I for one want an explanation.”

It was so silent you could hear a pin drop, neither you or Jake willing to speak up. Kiri cleared her throat, “There are rumors going around. That you are not really mated.”

You felt like you could not breath, something thick and rough curling around your throat.

Lo’ak turned to look at his sister, “What are you talking about, Kiri? That makes no sense.”

The silence was deafening, both Neteyam and Lo’ak were waiting for the both of you to protest, but it never came. Tears leaked from your eyes and Jake stood there stunned. All the air from his lungs was sucked out of him, he never thought this was going to happen. “Sa’nok tell Kiri she is wrong.”

There was another stretch of silence and Lo’ak’s anger faded into deep melancholy, he felt lied to, betrayed as none of you corrected her. “Fuck this!”

“Lo’ak!”

Jake gripped at his youngest son’s arm, he wanted to apologize to him. To all of you, Neteyam shoved at Jake’s arm, pulling his brother to him. “You have both lied to us.”

He turned to look at you, angry tears streaming down his face, “Was any of it real? Do you even care for us as you say you do?”

“Of course, ‘itan!” You were trying so hard not to cry, his words were harsh, accusatory. “I love you all so much, none of it was fake.”

“Except you two being mate’s? That seems like a pretty big thing to lie about.”

“It was not your Sa’nok’s fault.”

Everyone's eyes jumped to Jake, he looked so unlike himself. Unsure, scared. “When she and I-'' He didn't even know what to say. Lost for words as his mind raced a million miles a second.

Your voice was raw, thick with tears, “Tsaheylu is very important, when you mate with someone it is for life. Your father and I-we did not wish for our union with each other. Neytiri was like my sister, your father and your mother loved each other and we did not. It would not have been fair to force that upon each other.”

Your response was diplomatic, clean and simple. But you were not being truthful, Jake was not sure he could love you more. You were sparing him, how mean he was to you all for the sake of the kids. “That has changed though.”

Your eyes locked onto Jake’s, pleading with him to stop talking. “I love your Sa’nok, I have for so long but I was scared.”

He was speaking out loud, for everyone to hear but his words were meant for your heart to feel. “I was a skxawng and I let so many years pass by, and I am reaping those consequences now.”

There was another beat of silence and you felt like you were suffocating in your home, anger, sadness, so many harsh feelings being exchanged between all six of you and it was too much, “I need some fresh air.”

Everyone began to protest, but you didn't listen. Walking quickly out of the mauri and Kiri was quickly following behind you. “Kiri-give her sometime.”

“I am going to make sure my mom is okay, something you have failed to do all these years.”

Jake’s words dried up, head hanging low out of pure guilt.

Kiri found you quickly, you did not stray far from your mauri but even in the darkness of the beach she could see you were crying. Your body was shaking as she sank down beside you. You had spent years caring for everyone but no one cared for you. Kiri’s head rested on your shoulder, her own tears falling from her eyes. She has always been so observant, she was not sure how she missed your sadness. Guilt settled into her chest as she realized how much you had given up for them. “Sa’nok, why did you do it? We took so much from you.”

After a few moments you calmed yourself, wrapping the young girl into your hold as you tried to soothe her, even now in your own despair you tried making her feel better. “I knew what I signed up for, sweet girl. I loved your Ma’ so much, and I know if the roles were reversed she would have done the same for me with no hesitation.”

You sniffled quietly, “You have all given me so much, you all made me a mother and despite Jake and I not being mated before Eywa, I have always been happy. You make me happy, Tuk, Lo’ak and Neteyam. I would go through this all over again if it meant none of you ever felt alone.”

“You deserve so much more.”

Your eyes watered at her words, blinking the tears away as you both found comfort in each other's presence.

Jake felt like his throat was on fire, watching his oldest daughter leave behind you and his two son’s pace the mauri. “I’m sorry.”

No one commented on his apology, Tuk making her way to Lo’ak as she felt his frustrations. She was trying to calm him down, “You need to fix this.”

Lo’ak’s hands were pointing wildly at Jake, “You need to make it right between the two of you or let Ma’Sa’nok go.”

Neteyam nodded his head, agreeing with his younger brother. “It is not fair to her, Sir.”

Jake’s eyes widened at the words from his sons, how could they even suggest that? “You would let her go? You would let her leave us?”

Tuk cried against Lo’ak, hiding behind his back. “If it meant she was finally happy, then yes.”

Jake shook his head, desperation consuming his heart. He needed to find you, he needed to start patching up all the damage he had done. “I-I need to find her.”

He was practically stumbling over his own two feet as he made his way outside, looking for any signs of you and his eldest daughter. He walked along the beach, eyes blurry with tears. He made out the shape of the two of you, wrapped in each other's arms and speaking quietly.

His ears picked up on the words exchanged between the two of you, “Do you love him, ma?”

You sighed quietly, “I do.”

Jake’s heart was pounding against his chest, “Do you believe that he loves you?”

You were quiet, unsure of what to say and Jake wanted to scream. Yes! Of course he does! “I-I do not know, ‘Ite. He says he does, but I am scared.”

Kiri nodded against your shoulder, “I do not know if I can give what is left of my heart to him.”

Jake’s ears pinned back roughly, your words were so hard for him to stomach. He cleared his throat since none of you had heard him. Your back tensed and Kiri turned to look at him. Her eyes were filled with trepidation as he approached the two of you. “I need to speak with your Sa’nok.”

Kiri turned back to look at you, silently asking you if it was okay. You pressed a soft kiss to her forehead, “Go ‘ite. Make sure your siblings are okay.”

She hugged you, arms wrapping around you so tightly it was hard to breathe. “No matter what, you will always be my mom.”

Your lips trembled as you pulled her in tighter, “I am not leaving, ‘ite.”

She nodded her head, pulling away from you and walking back to the mauri. Jake sank down in the sand beside you, watching you closely but you refused to look at him. He cleared his throat as he turned from you to look towards the ocean, the waves crashing against the shore eased the ache in his heart a bit. “I have never been good at expressing what I feel-”

He sighed through his nose, “The fear that I have of losing the kids-It causes me to be harsh, and scold. But it is out of fear I will be too late to help them.”

Your ears twitched at his words, pulling your knees towards your chest as you remained silent, “I was scared of loving you. So I set up barriers from the beginning and refused to open myself up to you. It was easier that way.”

Jake swallowed roughly, a lump forming at his throat, “But then I just-it was like I finally woke up and all I saw was you.”

Tears pooled at his eyes as you turned to him, “You took up so much of my mind, of my heart and it scared me. For so many reasons, I was scared you didn't feel the same way for me, I was scared of losing you. And to be frank, I felt so much guilt. I felt like I was betraying Neytiri.”

Tears fell from your eyes as you watched him, he was unable to reach your eyes. He didn’t think he could get the words out if he looked at you, scared of what he would see. “When everything happened with Tsu’ltan something switched inside of me. Yes-I can admit that my actions were flawed but I have wanted you for long and my actions were driven by fear but I do care for you. Everything I told you that night still stands strong, I see you.”

He finally turned to look at you, and he knew. He saw it in the way you looked at him that you finally understood him. Understood his actions and why he did what he did. “I am scared you will change your mind. That you will regret it after it happens.”

Jake shook his head and reached for your hand, tangling his fingers with yours and he pressed a kiss to your hand. “I will do whatever it takes to get you to see how much I mean this.”

Your heart thumped hard against your chest, tail swishing behind you. He was so earnest, no falsehood behind his eyes and you believed him. You didn't even have to say it. Jake was up swiftly, pulling you with him. Neither of you said anything, just hands tangled with one another, and pressed tightly as you walked through the forest. Jake could not stop the giddiness that settled into his chest to feel you so close to him. He made his way deep into the forest, clicking his tongue to call for his Ikran. “Where are we going?”

“Just want us to be alone together for a while.”

Bob appeared in front of the two of you moments later, nuzzling his head against Jake’s chest. Jake let your hand drop before he mounted his Ikran, extending his hand towards you to take.

When you settled comfortably behind him, Jake’s hand gripped at the back of your thigh. He kept you close to him as he silently instructed Bob to take flight.

You spent hours flying, Jake told you stories of his life before making it to Pandora, and you confided in him how much your life changed after Zewlay was taken from you. It was beautiful, it felt like the two of you were the only people that existed in the whole world.

When you landed you felt dizzy, out of pure happiness, euphoria settled into every crevice of your body. A quiet laugh left your throat as Jake patted Bob’s head, an annoyed huff left the animal as he flew away.

A comforting silence fell before the two of you, and you shifted between your feet. All you wanted now was to feel him near you, on any part of you and before doubt could settle into you, you leaned up to him to press a soft kiss to his lips. Jake’s tail thumped behind him at the feeling, one hand cupping your face to bring you closer. Your lips parted for him and his tongue slowly tangled with yours, fighting against each other as his other hand gripped at your waist, pulling you closer. He pulled away from you, forehead pressing against your own as he took a deep breath, “We don’t have to do anything today, Yawne. We can take our time.”

You shook your head no, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him in again, “I have waited so many years, Jake. I don’t want to wait any longer.”

Your lips pressed against his, hard and passionate, almost bruisingly and Jake felt your desperation. He felt it too. Without his lips breaking from yours he sank down, pulling you with him and trying to remove any space from each other. He leaned back and pulled you onto his

lap, his legs extended outward and your thighs straddled his waist. You instinctively pressed down onto him, rolling your hips up and a quiet moan left your mouth.

Jake’s hands fell to your hips, helping you rock your hips onto his hardening cock. Jake mumbled against your lips, “Oel ngati kameie.”

You clenched around nothing, rutting your hips harder as you kissed along his jaw, “Oel ngati kameie, Jake.”

He let out a watery laugh, tears pooling at his eyes once more as he heard the words fall from your lips. His hips thrusted upward and another moan fell from your lips, grinding down harder. Jake pressed you against him harder, gripping at the back of your thigh, “Gonna turn us around, Yawne.”

A small laugh left your throat as your back hit the ground, “Ow!”

His head dipped down to press kisses against your chest, moving your chest piece to suck gently on your skin. He left small bruises from his lips all along your chest, marking you as his and it caused your thighs to clench together. Tension settling high between your legs. “Jake, want you inside.”

You were pouting softly, biting down on your lips as he parted your legs. He pulled his own loin cloth off, your eyes widening at the sheer size. “S’big.”

Your cheeks colored as Jake laughed, his hands massaging your hips before he began to untie the material. “Well go slow, yeah?”

You nodded your head, excitement settling at the bottom of your stomach as Jake gripped your thighs, pulling you to him. His fingers carefully pressed against your clit, a small hiss left your lips out of pure sensitivity. His fingers rubbed small shapes into your mound, pressing down every few seconds and you felt yourself clench against nothing. Your desire became more evident with how easy it was for him to slip a long finger into your entrance. Your hips bucked slightly, clenching at the intrusion. His thrust was soft, gentle as he eased you up, the tension leaving your body the more he continued his movements. Jake was so grateful you were so far away from the beach, it was just the two of you and he could soak up all the noises that left your mouth.

When he felt you were ready he eased a second finger into you, his pace increasing. His eyes were stuck to where his fingers were, amazed by how you just sucked him in. His cock was hard, tail swishing with excitement. You whined his name, hips stuttering and he could tell you were close, you clenched around his fingers with every thrust. “Jake-stop.”

His fingers stilled inside you, eyes filling with concern as he watched your chest heave roughly. “What’s wrong?”

Your hands covered your face, clenching lightly against his fingers that were still inside of you. Your whole body colored in embarrassment, the words barely leaving your mouth. You mumbled something that Jake could not understand, his ears twitched. “Hmm?”

“Oh Eywa-I said I don't wanna come yet. Wanna do it with you.”

Jake’s tail thumped harshly, you were still covering your face. “Wanna see you, baby.”

Your hands slowly fell from your face, your cheeks were flushed and a small smile littered your features. Jake parted your legs even more, inching his hips closer to yours. He grabbed at the base of his cock, pumping a few times before letting the heavy muscle rest against your slit.

One hand gently gripped at your hip, while the other lightly pressed himself closer to you, your hips swiveled instinctively as he thrusted gently, using your slick to coat the underside of his cock. He thrusted the head lightly into your clit and your hips bucked, whimpering quietly at the sensation. Jake’s ears pinned back, you were so warm, and so wet and it was all for him.

His fangs dug into his bottom lip, relishing in the feeling as he repeated the motion a few more times. His cock-head caught with your entrance, and your breath hitched. Jake was watching your face, making sure it wasn’t too much for you. “M’ready.”

The hand that was on your hip moved to tangle over your own, lightly towering over you as he slowly sank in. You clenched around his cock as he eased his way in, your hips were squirming slightly, only stopping until he bottomed out. His hips keep yours in place, pinning them against the ground.

He gently maneuvered one of your legs to wrap around his waist, pulling you impossibly closer. You felt so full, tears pinched at your eyes. You had longed to be so close to him for so long, and now that you had him you were so overwhelmed. So happy to feel just as wanted, just as needed. You were not aware you were crying until Jake untangled his hand with yours and gently wiped at your tears, “Why are you crying?”

His voice was filled with concern as you sniffled gently, “Happy tears.”

Jake’s face eased up, a smile littering his features as he straightened out, wrapping his arms around your back to lift your hips. He pulled his hips back, thrusting into you gently and your whole body shook with his thrust.

His pace remained soft for a while, enjoying how your body relaxed against him. He gave a particularly hard thrust and a lewd moan left your parted lips, his cock twitched inside of you at the sound. His hips snapping with each thrust and you reached for him, trying to feel all of him. He understood what you wanted, letting his weight fall over your body as his face nuzzled into your neck. Moans leaving his lips as your fingers tangled with his. His pace increased as you clenched around him, nipping and sucking softly at your neck as you cried out his name.

“Love you so much.”

A quiet sob of pleasure ripped from your throat, wrapping both legs around his back as he pushed in and out, hips snapping roughly into yours. Everything was so perfect.

You felt so much tension building up in the pit of your stomach, Jake removing his face from your neck to let his lips fall onto yours. Kissing you with so much intention, like he was trying to pour all his love for you into the kiss.

His hips never stopped, pushing you so close to your release and your name fell from his lips as he told you how good you were doing, how you were made just for him.

“Wanna be on top, Ma’Jake.”

His hips stuttered, moaning quietly as he gently slipped out of you. You clenched around nothing, missing the feeling of him being inside of you. Jake sat on the floor, legs extended and ready for you to do what you wish with him.

Your legs straddled his own, gently gripping at the base of his cock as you sank down. He was even deeper than before, a small bulge protruding at your lower stomach. Jake’s finger slightly traced over the dent his cock was creating in your abdomen. “So pretty.”

You clenched around him, lifting your hips to slam back down onto his cock. With one hand on your hip, Jake helped guide you onto him. You breast bounced in front of him, body flushed a darker color and mouth parted as you chanted his name. With his free hand he reached behind him, bringing his thickest braid to you. Your bounces halted, you lazily grinded your hips into his.

Jake saw the small flicker of insecurity glaze your eyes, but you reached for your own braid.

You both inched your queues closer to one another, pink tendrils fizzing lightly at the close proximity. Once they were near enough they tangled together. Your body slumped against Jake’s slightly and a quiet sob left his mouth. He felt it all, all your sadness, your pleasure, everything. All of you consumed every last crevice of his body, his mind and heart, his very being was completely made up of you.

You pressed a kiss against his shoulder, tears falling from your eyes out of pure euphoria. This is what you had been longing for all your life and it was finally yours.

Jake’s hands wrapped around your waist, pressing your chest deeper into his. His arousal intensified ten fold because he felt your own run through him. His hips began to piston themselves into you. He was so snug inside of you, warm and wet and you sobbed out in pleasure. “I’m so close, Ma’Jake!”

“Me too, baby-fuck!”

Your lips pressed against his, it was messy, tongues fighting against each other as you swallowed each other's moans. The coil in your tummy finally snapped, cumming so hard around him, “Gonna come baby, let me do it inside of you.”

You nodded your head, orgasm being prolonged as his hips sloppy crashed against yours. You roughly met his thrust, clenching tightly at the overstimulation and that caused Jake to release into you. His moans were loud, whispering how much he loves you as he comes down from his high.

You slowly removed yourself from him, shivering at the sensation of no longer being so full. He wrapped his arms around you, patting your hair soothingly as you relaxed into him. “I love you.”

Your face grew hot, nuzzling deeper into his chest, “I love you too.”

[gingiesworld]

Fatal Attraction

Chapter One

Pairings: Wanda Maximoff x GN! Reader/ Wanda Maximoff x Jarvis Stark

Warnings : Fluff. Angst.

Taglist : @natashamaximoff-69 @canvascoloredin @wizardofstories @louxbloom @wandanats-goodgirl @the-ox-fan20 @ladyqueenxoxo @aemilia19 @wandaromamoff69 @mfd-101 @dorabledewdroop

18+ MINORS DNI

Wanda Maximoff, was known as Jarvis Stark's new wife, and NYU graduate, that was all. Once Jarvis had gotten a job at his father's company, Wanda had quickly adjusted to the stay at home housewife. Even after she had done her morning chores and meal preps, she wasted a majority of the day either sitting on the sofa watching TV or just staring out of the window at the bustling city below. Even her latest conversations with Jarvis made her want to retreat from him.

"I think we should try for a baby." He told her as her eyes widened.

"What?" She almost yelled across the table from him.

"We're married now." He stated.

"Barely." She told him as he shrugged.

"I have a steady job and income, we can provide for a baby Wanda." He smiled at her as she shook her head no.

"I don't want a baby Vis." She told him firmly. "I am not ready for that sort of commitment."

"We're already married, Wanda." He told her sternly as Wanda started to clear the table. "I think not being ready for commitment has already passed."

"No." She told him as she squeezed her eyes closed. "Being married is different to starting a family. We are both 22 for crying out loud."

"All the more reason to do it." He told her. "By the time they will be off to college we will just be pushing passed 40, an age to start living our lives again."

"I said no Jarvis." She snarled as he just sighed.

"Just think about it." He requested before he retreated to their shared room. Wanda knew exactly how she felt about the whole children's situation.

Did she see herself as a mother at some point? Yes, just not right now. Not when she has a lot of living to do.

So she made it her mission to reject every advance Jarvis had made. Denying his every need to have intimacy with her. She couldn't really sneakily go on birth control as they now had shared health insurance.

So she had done the next best thing, she had made several resumes and sent them out to multiple organisations, hoping that she may just get herself a job and a way to earn her own money and not have to rely on Jarvis's family fund.

Every day she checked the mail, hoping that she may get an acceptance letter, only receiving polite rejection letters.

"I bet you're going to tell me what the others have said huh?" She questioned as she sat with the envelope in her hand. Taking a deep breath before opening the letter and reading the black ink.

Dear Ms Maximoff

Thank you for your resume, and I am afraid that all departments have been filled. Although, I do have an assistant about to go on maternity leave. It is only a temporary position. If you may be interested, please contact me as soon as possible.

Many regards

Y/N Y/L/N

CEO

Wanda was fast to dial up the number provided, although she had waited for half an hour until she was put through to Y/N.

"Y/N Y/L/N, how may I help you?" They answered.

"Hi, Mx Y/L/N, it's Wanda Maximoff." She rambled nervously. "I was just calling up about the temp position you have available?"

"Hi, Ms Maximoff." They spoke cheerfully. "I do have a full week this week but maybe if you can stop by the office at noon? I have 30 minutes spare for lunch if you're free to do your interview then."

"Yes." Wanda answered excitedly. "Of course."

"Perfect." They answered her. "I shall see you at noon. Don't be late." With that they hung up, just before Wanda squealed. She was excited to have a job prospect so soon, but her excitement didn't last too long when Jarvis came inside with one of her resumes in his hand.

"You know, we have been looking to fill some spots in our tech department and when I noticed this on my desk of potential candidates, I thought that couldn't be my Wanda Maximoff but there is only one Wanda Maximoff in New York." He slammed the paper on the table before him. "What are you even doing Wanda?"

"I am looking for a job." She told him.

"You don't need a job." He told her.

"No, but I want a job." She told him. "I am sick and tired of living the same routine every day. It gets extremely lonely."

"Maybe if we try." He started as Wanda interrupted him.

"I already told you no Jarvis!" She yelled. "I am not ready to be a mother!"

"No one is truly ready to be a parent dear." He tried to approach her when she stepped back.

"No." She told him firmly. "I don't want a baby. Not now."

"Wanda! This is something that is expected when we marry." He told her as she laughed.

"We are not living in the 50s!" She told him. "It is my body and I do not want a child."

"It has to be done Wanda." He told her.

"No it doesn't!" She shouted, starting to get angry with every second he wasn't listening to her. "I am 22, freshly out of college, I should be out partying with friends, working a job I hate to try and make ends meet."

"But you don't have to do any of that." He told her.

"Because we have your father's money?" She spoke with a raised brow. "I want to be able to earn my own way Vis, so please just let me." He just nodded as he walked away, leaving Wanda to clean up the dinner that neither had the appetite to eat.

The next day, Wanda was getting ready for her interview with Y/N. She was extremely nervous as she hasn't had a job since she worked part time in high school at the local cafè. So she made sure she was at the building earlier, sipping on a coffee as she waited for Y/N, already being informed that they were in a meeting.

She soon perked up when a door opened and a large group of people left the room. Waiting to see what Y/N looks like.

"Ms Maximoff." They spoke up as they spotted Wanda. "Follow me." She was fast to follow them into their office. Admiring the view from behind them as they sat at their desk. "So, your resume was quite."

"I know, I haven't really had a job since high school." She told them. "But I graduated at the top of my class in college."

"And you are married." They pointed out as they noticed the gold band on her finger. "And you're 22."

"My husband and I have been together since high school." She told them as they smiled softly.

"Well, he is a very lucky guy." They told her before looking at her seriously. "So, why do you want this job?" They asked her.

"Well, I want to be able to make something of myself, earn my own way." She told them. "It's just that Jarvis expects me to stay at home and birth his children but I don't want that."

"You want to be independent." They pointed out as she nodded. "So why did you marry him?"

"I love him." She answered easily, although at that moment, the words felt like a foreign language on her tongue.

"As easy as that." They pried before realising Wanda's unsure gaze. "Forgive me, that was out of line."

"No." She waved them off before looking up again.

"Well, I guess I can have you start on Monday, Jean will show you the ropes before she leaves on Friday." They told her with a smile.

"I got the job?" She asked them, with shock and confusion in her eyes.

"You got the job." They smiled as she squealed. "Just leave your details, social security number and bank account details with Jean."

"Thank you so much Y/N." She stood up as Y/N walked around the desk.

"Be here Monday, 8am." They smiled at her before opening the door for her, the two approaching Jean. "Do you have the files for my next meeting?" She handed them an A4 manilla file. "Also, can you sort out Ms Maximoff's details for your temporary replacement. She will be shadowing you next week before you leave us to have this little guy." Jean nodded with a smile before Y/N had disappeared down the hall and into the elevator.

"They aren't the easiest to work for." Jean told her. "They are perfectionists."

"I can see that." Wanda smiled as she handed over the appropriate papers.

"But they are loyal to their employees." Jean told her. "That is one thing I can say about them." Wanda was fascinated by them, only meeting them briefly but seeing how smart and sophisticated they seemed. It only drew her in, needing to know more. She found herself thinking about them, even when she was laying in bed at night beside her husband. Her thoughts were innocent but she still felt guilty.

[soracities]

hii! do you ever get into a huge reading slump? i would say ive been in one for about 3 years now and im desperate to escape it and read again but i cant find anything that's 'popular' enjoyable and have no idea where to start in finding content and books i actually enjoy by myself without tiktok or booktube 😭

Oh I've been in a particularly bad slump for at least 2 years so yes, absolutely! I think the key thing here is to try and remove the pressure off yourself as much as you can: don't look at every book you approach with the mindset of "THIS is will be the antidote to my reading slump" or "THIS novel will save me" because it will most likely stop you from actually enjoying the book: when you go in with such high expectations, you're also bringing a very distracting form of hyper-vigilance with you, waiting for the magic moment to hit, counting the pages until it does, being too conscious or worried when it doesn't in the way you envisioned it. It will turn reading into a chore, an endurance test which you either succeed or fail at, and this will only cement the slump further.

Everyone is different and I don't know what kind of books you like most, but the best thing I can advise is to go back before your slump and see what some of your favourite reads were. One way to ease back into reading is to revisit books you loved and read them again--this eliminates some of the pressure and I think it can also help rebuild that excitement because you know you're returning to familiar ground you've enjoyed before. That, or find other works by those same authors whose writing / style you liked and slowly expand from there. I don't log my reading through apps or websites anymore (and I stay away from booktok like the plague but that's a whole other conversation)--I have an ask on how I find my books here and I hope that helps too--but I've heard really good things about The Storygraph so if tiktok and booktube haven't done it for you, this might be a much better way to move towards books you actually enjoy because it's based on your preferences, not an influencer's or what an algorithm is pushing.

Whatever book you decide to try next, I would also advise you to start slow and / or small if that's what you need (more here)--don't force yourself to plow through several hundred pages in one sitting or 2 days. Sometimes breaking a slump is far more sustainable when you do it chip by chip, slowly, but consistently in a way that makes it less daunting than thinking you have to finish 2 novels every week. Something as simple as setting aside 15 minutes to read in bed before you go to sleep each night can do it. You can also look at audiobook versions, or short story collections in whatever genre it is you enjoy most!

Best of luck, anon, and I hope some of these answers will help 🤍

[aerkame]

Haha, hi *winks at you* (●▪◡<●)ﾉ [please tell me if any of this makes you super duper uncomfy I did read the rules I'm just scared]

Wally Darling x Stressed out! Reader.,.,

[Remember that silly idea you had?! I liked it a lil too much]

The neighbor [us], had a terrible day at work, slamming open the door to their house and [not even thinking twice] immediately falling into the arms of the person who greeted them at the door. Much to their demise, said person is Wally. Wally falls limp upon being hugged, staring down at the reader who freezes once they realize who they came in contact with. They attempt to pull away but Wally.. Being Wally. Holds them in place with a stupid smile.

Twirls my hair, giggles and runs away [I'm so so so so so so sorry if this didn't make any sense imn sorry I leorve yoru writingzzzznbs I'M SORRY PLRASE FORGIVE ME]

I like my original idea as well, I'm hoping to start a full series next week!

________________________________________________________

Today did not go well at all. You had to stay extra hours at work because some group of rowdy teens decided it would be great to come into the library and start messing with the books. One had even decided to start tearing out pages from a kids' study book. The library is probably going to take that one to court, some of those books are expensive to replace and you had to spend hours reorganizing everything that was carelessly thrown across the halls and find missing pages. At least you were finally home though. You stumbled up to the front door dangling the keys in your hand as you tried and failed a few times to properly unlock the door.

You gave a sigh as you heard a distinct 'click' and swung the door open not paying attention to your surroundings and slamming it behind you. Turning towards the closet, you slowly took your shoes off before setting them down neatly inside. Gotta set a good example and keep things clean for your guests, even when you wanted to just throw things around and sleep sometimes...It really was like you just had a bunch of kids out of nowhere. At least Wally and Barnaby were here to help you.

"Welcome home dear host-"

Quickly turning around to whoever was speaking, you leaned over and plopped yourself into their greeting arms. You felt you had fallen into something soft and warm. What a welcomed feeling after today.

"Well that's one way of greeting your guests." Arms snaked around your torso as they hugged you closely. You froze, finally recognizing the voice that's been speaking to you. Slowly looking up, you saw Wally, whose face had a giant grin on it. That was not a welcomed feeling after today.

Quickly trying to pull away, you heard quiet snickering from the side somewhere. You finally managed to pop your head out of his arms, the rest of your body now snuggly wrapped in them. There was Barnaby and Sally sitting there at the dinner table watching you two and giving each other knowing looks. "Awww, looks like someone's a bit of a sleepy head!" Sally smiled as Wally walked passed them not making a single sound.

You were somewhat used to this by now. Usually Wally treated you like some significant other that needed extra care. He would pick you up and tightly hold you for hours while getting chores done in the house with you struggling and kicking until you wore yourself out, tuck you into bed at night or on sick days, paint and draw several portraits of you, make you warm food after work some days (though you wondered how he even learned how to cook), and dance with you late at night on the porch with quiet music playing. Other times the two of you would get lost in deep conversations after a long day of work, it was like he knew you without needing to know you. Wally was always so smug when he did anything though, like he knew it would get on your nerves, which it did at first. But over the past several weeks you grew used to him being coy. You felt too exhausted and stressed out to talk much today though. You didn't feel like doing much of anything really so you just let Wally do whatever he wanted for now.

You pushed against his arms only when he started to squeeze a bit too hard to let him know. He didn't loosen up however and instead made a beeline for your room, quietly opening the door and setting you down on your bed. You moved to get up but a hand came down onto your shoulder to pin you down. "Just stay here...I have something I made for you." He spoke softly for once.

Wally soundlessly walked out of your room and returned with a steaming cup of what looked like tea. You watched him effortlessly balance the cup in one hand as he removed your jacket, slinging it over his open shoulder before bringing a blanket over your legs.

"There! Now isn't that much better?"

For once you didn't see that smug or condescending grin of his. You saw something much warmer in that charming smile. You gave him a nod and gently took the cup out of his hands.

The reader works at a very busy public library for some context.

I've always wanted a job at a library. I don't know if they'd let me work at one though. I wasn't a bad kid, but there was one thing I did steal and that was a book from the library on fossils. I didn't really understand some of the words though when I was 7, but I loved that book either way.

[anonymous-dentist]

One thing I’ve noticed about Arkanis so far that’s just a little worrying to me is that the Lore is Constantly Happening. It’s the same problem I had with the QSMP, too: too much happening all the time will eventually overwhelm the creators and the audience. Especially if everybody has enigmas to figure out, then they have enigmas on top of enigmas on top of enigmas with no time to solve them

But this depends on how long Arkanis is projected to be. The QSMP was supposed to be a years-long project with legitimately no projected ending; it just happened to crash and burn just before it’s one year anniversary and not stop burning until the anniversary was over and the server could say it lasted 1+ years. And then it died.

But Arkanis? I’m thinking that it’ll be done sometime in January or February. It feels very Karmaland-y, and that’s a good thing! Karmaland 5 only lasted six or so months, which was a Good Thing!

I vaguely remember hearing that this current Arkanis is like a “season one” type of deal, and I hope that means that it’s shorter than not. This isn’t because I hope it ends quickly, it’s because I believe that there needs to be an ending Eventually so the server doesn’t fade into obscurity.

It does actually help that a lot of the creators seem to be focusing on their characters’ individual lores. Sure, everybody is involved in the overarching plot, but there is a Specific Character dedicated to that overarching plot. That’s Bagi, and she’s related directly to the enigma channel on the Arkanis discord.

And, unlike the QSMP, the individual lores all actually at least vaguely seem to tie into the Big Plot in some way. All of the Lore Details aren’t reserved for one or two people to discover, each character has an impact on the story and the story has an impact on them.

Tbh, this just shows the benefits of Arkanis being a dedicated rp server. Sure, yeah, you can be as invested in rp as you want as a player; Mike hasn’t been doing much besides building, I think, and that’s just fine. But the fact that Arkanis was advertised with a LOT of rp stuff and the fact that it has dedicated itself to the rp even so far as including the discord in it? Social media accounts are canon? That stuff? Really impressive.

The best way to combat burnout with this kind of stuff is to provide brain breaks. Have weekends off of lore or something. But another good way is to keep Lore from feeling like a chore. It’s fun to be an audience member actually impacting the Lore through the discord channel! It’s especially fun when you’re enigma-brained like several of the ccs are, and like a good portion of the audience is. If there’s a lot of information, it’ll be hard to get through. But it’ll be easier if you’re actually enjoying it.

And the way to enjoy it? The information needs to make sense, and that’s what Arkanis is absolutely doing right at the moment. It’s all confusing, but it’s also relatively easy to go “Oh! These characters were in the advertisements from August!” when there’s clear, yet still not too obvious, evidence showing it.

That’s what the QSMP consistently got wrong: the information just didn’t make sense. This came from a lack of planning and the workplace abuse the writers and actors faced. A lot of things came down just to what Quackity and/or the other higher ups thought would be cool or clickbait-y.

Arkanis is doing things right so far. Everything seems planned, the story actually seems to know where it’s going, and a lot of things somehow seem to relate back to the story in a way that makes sense.

But also? It’s only been a week. Who knows if the server will be able to keep this momentum up in a healthy way? I hope it does, and I have faith that it will. The guys behind the scenes almost seem to be taking the QSMP’s failures and learning from them while still creating and keeping a unique server identity.

I just hope it lasts!

[ahedderick]

Tasks o' the day:

A little bit of weeding in the asparagus bed, and checking in on the little seedlings that I transplanted. This process was hindered by a large tom cat deciding to *Flop* in the dirt - on top of several of the transplants. No! Weeding a bed of carrots compelled a second, smaller tom cat to *Flop* on the carrots I was so carefully weeding around. ARGH!

I removed the cats and myself from the garden, fed and watered chickens, and let the chicks out of their pen for a little foraging. Sent some emails to family, got a good breakfast. When K got up, we decided to meet at the mini-orchard at the top of the ridge. I was going to take the truck (with dogs), she was going to ride Hero. I got there and carefully lifted Chance out of the truck. The two apple trees up there both needed pruning and blackberry vines removed from around their trunks. I hacked and pruned for a while until I heard a suspicious snort from the woods. Soon K and Hero emerged from the treeline. She left him groundtied (a horse trained to groundtie will stay in place if you drop the end of his lead rope on the ground) and started picking raspberries. I was dismally contemplating how to prune a peach tree when we both realized - Hero was gone.

K hustled after him on foot, while I finished as much pruning as I though I could do without a ladder. Fortunately, she caught him before he went too far, and they came back up the hill together. Both looking rather grumpy.

I helped her remount and got Chance and Lady back in the truck. I will need to come back with a ladder, maybe next week. There aren't many apples or peaches, but we'll use whatever we get.

Back at home we gave Hero a bath (a two person chore) because the fly spray leaves him a bit greasy after a while. Watered the berry bushes with Miracle Grow. Took the little green apples off the apple branches I'd tossed in the back of the truck, and chopped them. Boiled up and strained, I will use the liquid 'extract' in making jelly later. The apple mush will go to the chickens.

I wanted to get another painting session in today, but I ended up just marking branch structure with a colored pencil. Didn't have energy for more. I hope to get some more gardening done this evening after the sun drops. Uh-oh - I don't have a plan for dinner. It is time for me to be. Uh-oh.

[im-just-a-mississippi-girl]

Leaf Pile

Pairing: Nick Amaro x female!reader

Category: Fluff

Word count: 1,039

Summary: A dreaded fall chore turns into a fun activity when Zara comes over for the week.

Warnings: None

A/N: This is Day 2 of the Season of Fluff 2023 prompt list that @katries created with the help of @mrsmatt

Masterlist

Taglist

It was well into fall which means the trees had gorgeous red, yellow, and orange leaves decorating the branches, leaves which ultimately fell from the trees and had to be raked out the yard and leaf blowed out of the driveway.

Raking leaves wasn’t your favorite task nor was it Nick’s favorite, but it had to be done. You were home before Nick which meant two things: he was working late and you would have to rake the leaves. You groaned as you exited your vehicle, heading into the house to drop off your purse and work items.

Out in the garage, you grabbed the rake and let out a big sigh. Let’s get this over with. You made your way out to the yard and began, in your opinion, the worst task of the fall season. You hadn’t been raking too long before you heard a car pulling into your driveway. You spun around hoping it was Nick because you were so getting him to help but to your surprise it was Nick’s ex wife, Maria and Zara. Sweet little Zara, you had only been dating Nick for a few months before he brought up having a daughter and being divorced. None of that bothered you, you loved Zara and overjoyed she warmed up to you quicker than you expected.

You were a little confused on my Maria was bringing Zara over a whole day early but honestly, you were happy about it because spending time with Zara was always fun. You discarded the rake by the tree and made your way to Maria’s car. You greeted them both and listened as Maria explained her leave time was being moved up from tomorrow evening to the next few hours. You didn’t ask questions but helped Zara out of the car. A few minutes later Maria left and it was just you and Zara.

“Let’s get your stuff inside and then we can watch a movie after I finish-” You abruptly stopped talking when you heard something fall into the pile of leaves you had started before Zara arrived. Whipping your head around to the sound, you let out a breath of relief as you saw Zara jump into the leaf pile once more. She looked like she was having fun so you watched as her smile grew each time she jumped into the pile. Before too long the leaves were scattered all over the yard once again, but this time you didn’t mind having to rake them again. “Wanna see who can make the biggest pile? Winner gets to jump into both piles.” You decided to make a game out of it, Zara’s only little once so why not make the most of it.

“Can we?!” Zara looked up at you with her big brown eyes that she clearly had gotten from her dad.

“Of course we can!” You beamed. “Come on, let’s get your rake.” You motioned for her to follow you to the garage. She grabbed her little rake and hurried back out to the yard, eager to make the biggest pile. You laughed watching her excitedly begin raking for a few moments before joining her.

Several minutes later, you decided it was time to measure the pile of leaves. “Okay Zara, let’s see who won.” Zara was quick to look between both piles, sizing them up. She took the inspection seriously, measuring how tall the piles came up her legs. You looked on as she compared them. You had purposefully made your pile smaller but not super noticeable because Zara was smart and would catch on if you made it obvious.

“Mine’s the biggest!” She exclaimed, finally deciding that her pile was, indeed, the biggest. You pretended to pout at her answer. “You can jump with me.” She offered upon seeing your ‘pout’.

“That’s so sweet Zara, but you won and get to jump in both piles.” You reminded her.

She shook her head, not having you being ‘sad’. “I want you to have fun and jump with me.” Her innocence was so heartwarming. It was something that Nick worked so hard to preserve, especially given his line of work and you agreed to help him with maintaining Zara’s innocence and making her childhood as fun and carefree as possible.

“If that’s what you want, then I’ll join you.” You finally agreed, giving her a big smile. You watched as her face lit up in happiness.

Zara directed you to your pile and she stood in front of hers. “On three! One…. Two…. Three!” You both jumped into the piles of leaves, laughing the entire time. Leaves went flying up in the air and came down onto your heads.

In the midst of all the laughter and fun, you and Zara failed to hear Nick’s car pull into the driveway. “What’s going on here?” You and Zara heard an all too familiar voice ask.

“Daddy!” Zara jumped up and ran to her dad. You stayed seated in the leaf pile just watching the sweet scene. You chuckled as Nick gingerly pulled leaves out of Zara’s hair before wrapping her up in a warm embrace. “We made leaf piles and jumped in them!” She informed Nick as she pointed over to where you still sat on the ground. You smiled and waved when his eyes met yours. “Come join us daddy!”

Nick couldn’t resist the chocolate brown eyes that stared up at him or the sweet, innocent face of his pride and joy. “Alright, show me what to do.” Nick let Zara lead him over to you and all the leaves. He helped you up and gave you a loving kiss to your lips while Zara picked up your rake and brought it over to Nick.

“I won the biggest leaf pile.” Zara spoke proudly. “Here daddy. It’s your turn. You have to go against me.” She handed her dad the rake which he accepted. “Winner gets to jump in both piles!”

“You’re on.” Nick nudged Zara lightly with grin.

The remaining afternoon was spent taking turns raking leaf piles and jumping into them as laughter filled the air.

Turns out raking leaves isn’t so bad when you have fun with it.

[goldeneyedgirl]

Ficmas24 Day 3: Space-verse (Ismene)

Good evening, tonight we have the draft of the next installment of Space-verse. I am absolutely exhausted, so not too many notes today. This one is currently the final in order, so I highly recommend reading Unimaginable Things to get a lot of context of what this fic is about.

This is loosely intended to be a Valentine's Day fic, and is a very rough draft. Obviously just getting all the pieces in order so that we can dive into the future installments of 'Maria shows up' and 'what the fuck do you mean Earth's wealthiest space investors are completely evil' and, my personal favourite, 'how the fuck did Edward the Hologram get a girlfriend?'

But first, we have to do a little world building, a little more character development and that's a lot of fun!

So I hope you enjoy this installment, the ask box is still open for Ficmas, and I hope you're all having a great weekend!

(Editing and notes will be double-checked tomorrow after some sleep <3)

Ismene is their last stop of the season, and a good one. There’s some joy in the air as they get closer and closer to docking. No one is questioning their chores, nothing is left half-done. It’s satisfying to put everything to right before they dock. It’s been a long-ass season, and some time to rest and regroup is something that they’ve all been looking forward to, loudly.

The end of the season means different things, depending on which quadrant they find themselves in. In Ismene’s galaxy, it’s the equivalent of twelve weeks off thanks to the very intense and constant ice storms. They’re cutting it very close, but within days of their arrival, the cities of Ismene will begin to freeze and most of life will be conducted underground, in the vast glass labyrinth known as a Winter City. Only skeleton crews will maintain the surface - a mix of engineers, military officials, and public officials. No other ships will be allowed to dock on-planet until after storm seasons.

It’s not a terrible place to end the season; the Ismene Dock Dorms are some of the nicer ones, the food is good, and the storm season usually brings various small festivals to each of the Winter Cities. But Carlisle does one better for them, and mentions that he’s secured them a private residence in the City for them this year.

“I’m too old for twelve weeks in the dorms,” he shrugs when they all stare at him. “Something of a bonus for us all - there’s more than enough space for us to co-exist peacefully, and I though it might be more interesting.”

Esme is practically giddy at the idea of staying in the residential quarter of Ismene, and already chattering about how nice it will be to have family meals in a real home. Rosalie is more interested in the idea of a residential mattress, rather than the thinner sectional mattresses used in modern ships.

“What about Ed?” Emmett asks, pulling the plate of what Esme calls ‘scramble��� towards him. She’d been curious, in the way of a scientist, when Jasper had told them about human cuisine and had attempted to recreate several of the dishes. Not many of them had stayed in rotation, but Emmett had taken a shine to the dish that Jasper described as ‘cheese curds that were very confused’.

“The private residence will allow me to set up a port for Edward to join us,” Carlisle said. “I checked before I secured it.”

“Good,” Alice is picking at her breakfast thoughtfully. “I hate that portable projector.” After the incident on Jovan, Rosalie had enforced a long therapy program for Alice - they couldn’t ethically or legally keep her on board if Alice was depressed enough to be considering suicide, so Alice had resentfully agreed.

But Jasper thought it was helping. She seemed… better. Lighter. Calmer. Things were still… tentative between them. But she was doing better, and that was what was important. She was even moving better, with the new plating and augmentation. For the first couple of months, she’d been stumbling and tripping over everything as she relearnt her centre of gravity.

(He’d been embarrassed how pleased he was the day she toppled over into him, and he got the catch her and put her back on her feet. She’d turned red and apologised. He can’t even remember what he said, too focused on the smell of her perfume, and the weight of her against him again…)

“We disembark at 0700 tomorrow morning, for induction,” Edward said monotonously, a projected book in his hands. “They’ve already notified us that the ship will be impounded for the duration, so bring everything you need. I don’t want a repeat of last time.”

Emmett, Carlisle, and Alice all winced.

“There’s a story there that I want to hear,” Esme said, standing up to start gathering the plates.

“Imagine these four running the ship alone, and having to put it into storage for the season,” Rosalie answered waspishly. “I take one vacation and get a call that these idiots are being charged…”

“It wasn’t our fault!”

“You should all be packing and shutting things down, not bickering,” Edward said, rolling his eyes. “And as much as it pains me, Rose is correct.”

The yell of outrage from Alice and Emmett in that moment was enough to send Jasper away from the breakfast table, chuckling to himself.

Like old times. If only.

—

Alice balanced the bag of laundry on her hip as she let the scanner read her lens and open the door.

Her new room is a floor above her old one. It’s far bigger and a mirror image of Rosalie’s room, actually. She’s only been in Rose’s room a few times; Rose is a big fan of privacy, and kept her - admittedly maximalist - quarters in very precise order. But whilst Rosalie’s felt like it was Rosalie’s, right down to the chairs under the windows, Alice’s still feels wrong.

It feels too big. Carlisle had insisted - she needed to be comfortable, and needed something better than a staff bunk. She’d always claimed that if it was good enough for ship staff, then it was good enough for her. She’d loved her little bunk room, but…

But it was still the place that Jasper had lost his temper, had pinned her to the wall with his hand around her throat. Still the place that she packed up and left. So she had just agreed with Carlisle, and taken the new room. Her therapist had said it was a healthy choice; something of a fresh start. But it’s still strange to have a huge bed all to herself - no more bunks - and a bathroom where the shower isn’t over the toilet. Hell, this one even had a thin sliding wall to seperate the sitting area from the sleeping area.

A real analyst’s quarters.

(Had she looked up other jobs for analysts during her time away? Yes. It was a pipe-dream - no one would hire her. But it was still nice to imagine starting over on a purely professional ship, being nothing more than an employee trying to save enough to get an economy residence in a city. The real kind of fresh start.)

Right now, she’s got a pile of things in the middle of her bed, ready to be crammed into her pack and case. Rosalie’s already dropped off the Sani-wraps to be placed on the bed and furniture, and she’s cleaned out all the snacks she keeps, so not to invite vermin or leave anything to rot.

It’s not her first rodeo.

“There’s no way you’re going to get all of that into your bags.” Edward is leaning against the doorframe, looking bored.

“It looks worse than it is,” Alice dismisses him, tossing the clean washing onto the pile. In truth, more than half is staying behind; she’d just put off laundry too long.

“You need new boots,” Edward observes. And he’s not wrong; her old snow boots have seen better days, and she vaguely remembers intending to replace them after their last use.

“I’ll get new ones in Ismene.” She begins folding and rolling things efficiently. Shirts, pants, socks, underwear are easy choices. Pyjamas too. Edward keeps up the running commentary on her choices (too many sweaters, is she ever going to match-up her socks?, no one has ever needed six scarves in one winter), but she mostly ignores him.

“That’s an interesting choice. Got plans?” Edward’s watching her carefully and she looks down at the garment in her hands. A silky, dark blue dress - the kind of dress that a girl wears on a date with an equally impractical coat and high heels.

“I don’t think Jasper would be mad but are you sure?” Edward asks, faux-casually.

“What? No. I just needed a formal dress in case Carlisle wants to attend one of the fancy dinners,” Alice says, moving towards her dresser to cram the dress in. “I’ll bring this one, it’ll be warmer.”

“Tissue paper would have been warmer,” Edward says, but there’s no humour in his voice. “Alice, are you sure?”

The new dress is a soft grey, long sleeves with a round black collar. It’s definitely more ‘family dinner’ than ‘date night’ and that’s fine. It’s warmer, too.

“I haven’t been sure of anything in a very long time,” she says, as she folds and adds the dress to the suitcase. “Please don’t worry, Edward. I’m not going to do anything stupid.”

“It’s not stupid to miss someone, Alice,” Edward sounds kind now, like an older brother. “I just… don’t want to see you get hurt again. I’ve had enough of worrying about my favourite sister.”

That invokes a genuine smile. “I’ll be careful, I promise.”

“Good. But you also need to leave behind at least three pairs of shoes because you know you’ll buy more than three pairs in Ismene. It’s twelve weeks, not twelve months.”

She sticks her tongue out at him then, and for the first time in a very, very long time, they both start laughing.

//

The Winter City is one of the most beautiful creations that Jasper has ever seen.

This is his first time within the City proper during the storm season - the last time they were in Ismene, it was festival season and they’d stayed in the surface dorms. The surface architecture of Ismene was a very strange combination of the canal houses of Amsterdam and the clay buildings of Djenné (Jasper remembered how delighted Carlisle had been when he’d commented that, years ago; the doctor seemed to regularly forget that before all the terrible things happened, Jasper’s parents had helped design one of Earth’s outposts. They had taught him a bunch of useless shit about Earth, including historical buildings.) Lots of clay brick roads, plants suspended and growing in clay-and-glass reservoirs. It was amazing to look at.

It didn’t even compare to the Winter City. Huge glass balls nestled underground, each of them with an specific purpose - residential, health, recreation, retail - linked with glass tunnels. Great clay bowls of oil were strung from the ceiling miles and miles above them, burning steadily through the ‘day’ to light the space. Garlands of enormous length, made of dried flowers and leaves were woven along the pathways. Only official vehicles were allowed to be used in the Winter City, for both safety and to preserve stores of power cells and oils, leaving the paths full of people.

Carlisle is entertained by how fascinated Jaspwe is - the glass has microscopic facets to catch the light that sparkles as they pass it. Small clay shrines of what are presumably gods or martyrs are placed along the paths, with the locals leaving small bowls of sugar, some kind of flour, and wine around them.

“For a blessing,” Esme says quietly. “Our winter holy days are similar. We used to offer fruit and fresh water as well. The officials will collect the offerings after three days, to keep the streets clean.” Esme looks so pleased to be there, and Jasper wonders, not for the first time, about Esme’s home.

Of all their time together, Esme and Rosalie’s homes are the two that they’ve never visited. Even if Rosalie didn’t loathe her home and her people with every fibre in her body, there’s no possible way they would be allowed anywhere near the Faceless of Velea. And if they tried to bypass the Federation laws on approaching Velea, the Faceless would slaughter them before they even set foot out of the ship. As far as Jasper knows, Rosalie is the only Faceless alive outside of Velea. And he suspects that if Rose were to ever go back, she’d face a fate worse than death.

But Esme? He knows very little about her home. She’ll very fondly discuss her beliefs, especially around her plants or the desserts she makes them, but very little else. Atargatian people aren’t common, but they aren’t rare. He’s met a few over the years. Whatever the privacy around Esme’s story is, it’s deeply personal rather than cultural but it makes him worry that there’s something out there that Esme is running from.

Finally, they made it to the residence Carlisle has secured. It’s identical to every other one in their residential orb - a cloudy white glass, almost like a giant soap bubble. The door is nearly invisible until it slides open, revealing sunken living area and a kitchen. A huge white wall bisects the home; hidden from view is a narrow staircase up to the loft area set up for studying or working, and the sleeping area - a honeycomb-like wall of individual pods, designed to maximise warmth during the coldest hours of night, and a row of lockers for belongings. Small cell-powered lanterns hung throughout the house, offering a warm glow. It was very neat and cosy, much nicer than the Federation-design dorms that were the alternative.

It takes a little while to unload - not just personal luggage, but the medical equipment for Carlisle, all the equipment required for Edward to join then, and all the computers and tablets and things that they required for any work they did - almost all paperwork was due in the late winter months since there was no way to take physical jobs.

He caught Alice lingering by the door, staring up at the ‘sky’ with an indecipherable look. The ceilings of the domes were a projection of grey, grim days and darkest night taken from a planet that wasn’t prone to the violent ice storms of Ismene. It was pretty; there was a watercolour effect to it.

But Alice stared up at it like she was looking for something that wasn’t there. Jasper files it away to ask her about it, but the rest of the day is filled with unpacking and organising, securing food for their temporary home, and settling in.

By the time he remembers, they’ve all retired to bed. He’s sealed up in his sleep pod, watching a projection of space over the ceiling. Maybe that’s the problem Alice has; they spend so much time in wide open spaces, staring out into the darkness of space and all the stars and asteroids, that the ‘sky’ outside looks fake. Maybe it’s the knowledge that there’s something above them that feels ominous to her.

Maybe he just wants to talk to her, find something that he can do for her or get her or say to her that will be the thing that lets him get a little closer again.

It’s a bittersweet thought, but it’s the one that follows him as he drifts off to sleep, surrounded by images of home.

—

The first few days are always disconnected - especially for her. She’s only allowed on Ismene because of the expensive dispensations and permits that Carlisle never mentions but simply applies for. No one wants a Synth on their planet. At least if she were an android, she’d be classified as personal property and would be no more policed than luggage.

(She shouldn’t think that. Androids don’t have it much better; personal property doesn’t need time off or a paycheque or rations. An android is just a device. Alice has met more than one android and it just made her sad that the universe kept making sentient life and then punishing it for daring to exist.)

The sleeping pods make her nervous; they remind her too much of the place she first woke up as a teenager. They can’t be called claustrophobic - they easily fit Emmett, and she can comfortably sit up, and use the low shelf to do her nails, or the yoga stretches she was given the last time the Denali docked with them. But the four closed-in walls, the lack of window… it all makes her nervous.

But it’s easy enough to take one of the sleeping pills Rosalie prescribed months ago, and burrow into the layers of bedding to forget about everything. She tries to pick a projection for the walls, but they all look so artificial. Instead, she sets it to flowers slowly growing and blooming across the blank walls. Something soft and comforting and intended to be stylised.

It’s enough to let her sleep for almost a day. The cold weather has hit her hard; her leg and torso with their new paneling ache, and she’s exhausted all the time. Rose says she needs to eat more, get back into training, actually attempt at improving her state of being instead of whatever it is she’s doing.

Alice doesn’t have the energy to explain that she’s already stretched to the limit - therapy, med check-ups, her actual job… It’s times like this that Alice wishes the Federation would just approve Edward as a swing analyst so that she could get a break.

//

She sneaks out on day six.

It’s not a small thing, sneaking out of the Winter City. There are access portals everywhere, and it’s not hard to find one. It’s not even hard to find an unguarded one that’s unlocked - possibly one that is accessed by the above-ground skeleton crew after shifts.

If she gets caught, there will be hell to pay. But as beautiful as the Winter City is, it’s not real. They’re in a giant cave. There are no stars when they look up, no clouds drifting. Just a projection to hide the rock and tell their bodies when to sleep and when to rise. Not even a projection of Ismene’s actual sky - just stock footage bought somewhere cheap or licensed from the Federation.

It feels far too close to all the brainwashing that the labs did on her before she was Aware.

So she slips out through an access port behind a ‘park’ amenity shed, close to their lodgings. It takes very little effort, and a part of her wonders if anyone will catch her out. Maybe a hidden camera?

(No, Ismene doesn’t like technology. The current things that they use are essentially forced on them for survival or to maintain Federation approval. Security cameras wouldn’t come under either of those.

It takes her out through someone’s home, pristine and waiting for them to return. She tries not to touch anything.

And then… the air tastes different, fresh and not pumped in.

But it’s oddly beautiful.

The world is frozen in every way that counts - she’s amazed the front door of the house even opened under the weight of it. Ice has formed, several inches thick, over everything - there’s a grey-black cast to Ismene’s ice, making it feel more ominous. The buildings are locked up tight, and there’s a stillness that feels more like death than sleep.

Or maybe Alice is projecting. Her Pro-tex keeps most of the cold out, but there is a whisper of it lingering against her. Her hood already has frost lacing its edges.

It’s so quiet and so cold, but so real.

The summers here are legendary - the perfect warmth, streets decorated with oil lights and garlands of native flowers; people going barefoot in summer clothes thickly embroidered with flowers and prayers; the long days of music and food and people. She’s read all about it. And it seems utterly bewildering that she’s standing on the same world.

//

Jasper finds her a short while later.

Actually, she hears the access portal hum and nearly has a heart-attack until her brace pings with his approach.

“What are you doing up here?” The words are out of his mouth before he’s even property out of the port.

“Fresh air,” she says. “Come see.”

Jasper doesn’t look pacified by her response, but he does oblige by sticking his head out the door and into the cold.

“The next storm is due to hit in a few hours,” he says, gazing out at the frozen streets. “You shouldn’t be up here, it’s dangerous.”

“I’m fine, I’m not going outside.” Alice rolls her eyes behind his back.

“No, I meant if Rose catches you up here. She won’t tell me what happened last time y’all were here, but she will murder you dead if you get to close to a repeat.” The smile he gives her as he ducks back into the house is sneaky and she lets out a puff of laughter.

“We left stuff in the ship, and tried to sneak back in to grab it and got caught,” she replies. “The fine was exorbitant and Rose had to come be the one to legally sign us out since we were technically criminals. She’s never forgiven us.”

“No smuggling or gambling or illegal animal trafficking? I’m oddly disappointed.”

“No, I save those things for special occasions.” It’s nice to joke around like this. It feels like maybe she’s just been asleep for months and is finally waking up.

Staring back out the door, the sky is darkening and the clouds shifting.

“We should go back down,” Jasper said finally. “The storm is coming, Alice.”

“I know. But just a little while long. I like the storm lights,” she tells him, pointing at the tell-tale sign of an ice storm - the winter lights. Slowly rippling across the sky, like some kind of living creature, the colours being buildings - blues and purples mostly. Luminous against the darkness of the sky and the iced-over buildings, they look impossible.

“Isn’t it beautiful?” She offers, watching them dip low and intensify. The most beautiful of colours, reflecting off the ice.

“Incredible,” Jasper breathes, and she’s suddenly aware that he’s not looking at the lights. He always was corny as hell.

“Look at the lights, Jasper,” she says good-naturedly, mostly because she might have just woken up from the last year, but she’s still exhausted. She needs more lazy days, more sleep and more sweet foods and more winter lights before a storm. No fake skies or projections or complicated conversations that feel like running on the spot. Just easy and cosy and soft.

“They are amazing,” he says after a beat. “But we need to go back.”

“I know. But I’ll come back up here,” she replies, straightening and carefully closing the iced-over door.

“I don’t doubt it,” Jasper replies, and then looks at her. “If you want company, I… I’m around.” It’s a clumsy statement, an awkward one, but it’s not lip service or flowery talk or a projection on a wall. It’s real and true and hers.

“I’d like that,” she says.

THat’s when he takes her gloved hand and he doesn’t let go. Not until they’ve walked back to the access portal, and gone down to the Winter City. He holds on the whole time, his thumb rubbing circles on the back of her hand.

It’s not much, but it’s more than he had before. It’s more than she thought that she would have again.

(Something new and fragile and precious. But something. Maybe you can go home again.)

[strawberry-skies-xx]

13, 20, & 22 for the fic asks! fic i choose for 22, of course, that fucked up girl <3 and the mori dazai fic w the matcha tea....both fics have me by. CHOKEHOLD

*walks in 2 days late w iced coffee* that reblog spree on your blog is bc i couldn't find the og post btw and i had the (naive) hope you didn't reblog shit at the speed i did

13. Do you prefer writing multi-chapter fics or single-part fics? Do you prefer reading multi-chapter fics or single-part fics?

i prefer reading AND writing multi-chapter fics, bc its so much fun to explore stuff. however. The Horrors. i can dream about writing a multi-chapter fic all i want but it doesnt mean ill ever finish it (rest in piece my fleabag fyozai fic that's infamous on my bsd server bc i never shut up about it. also the fyozai betrayal AU fic. pensive emoji.)

20. Which fic have you put the most work into? Which fic have you put the least work into?

you make miette search through 84 published works for this...

the fic i'd say i've done the most research on is this one (mafia Dazai training Akutagawa) but the fic i've put the most work into being really good and me liking it has to be this one. its not BSD, but its a character study of a guy from another fandom and his interest in death and passive suicidality. i spent 3 days postponing every single other obligation other than food and just sat in bed writing this. 4th day i did nothing but chores and then i didnt write anything else for a week lol

least work is hard bc i have a philosophy that i can do whatever i want forever so i Will just write something in an hour and post it with no research, all pure self-indulgence. but i'll use a fic i should have done research on: this one. i really should've planned that out better. idk if anyone still follows me for httyd or has read that fic of mine but i do plan on rewriting it someday

22. Have you used any symbolism in [insert fic]? What does it represent?

OH boy.

so. fucked-up girl fic actually doesn't Have much real symbolism, only a couple remarks on my headcanons for various things.

today he had to eat an apple whole because he could not pick up a knife-

this one is easy, referencing dazai's suicidality and the fact he is trying. just a slight reference to him actively changing/being unable to do something, and also his issues with food.

He starts targeting.

Dazai is very, very still.

Atsushi backtracks so fast that he stumbles over his words, forgetting entirely Dazai’s contradictory explanations,

little things about dazai's manipulation in everything. boy can't admit shit. he's very roundabout with admitting anything close to himself (why i hc fyodor is so good for him, because they can trade those vague references back and forth and understand each other) and a trait i assign to him is saying vulnerable things in as few words as possible. he doesn't explain stuff.

Dazai’s body aches, and he turns, walks over to his desk, sits down. His clothes constrict.

gender issues but also, as mentioned in my comment on your fic, i hc dazai just hates his body. he has to shower with the lights off sometimes, can get dressed without looking at himself once. he very much dislikes perceiving the fact he has a body.

The ADA thinks that they’re dating. Him and Yosano. 

not symbolism or a hc but this was the premise of the entire fic. the agency thinking dazai and yosano were dating when really dazai just had severe gender envy

“Zai.”

little hc! yosano specifically uses this nickname for dazai when affectionate. atsushi and kunikida don't use any actual nicknames derived from his name; chuuya uses this nickname sometimes; ranpo uses this nickname somewhere between chuuya and yosano bc ranpo is putting in the least effort to get his attention lol

The conclusion is obvious. Dazai should explain that’s not what he means, but he can’t get his mouth to work to speak honestly. 

this whole conversation was the biggest indicator of dazai being unable to elaborate/saying things in as few words as possible. he's not a pathological liar, i just think sometimes it is physically painful to have to elaborate vulnerable things verbally for him. e.g. "it's because you're a woman" and yosano having to debate the fact dazai could be going after her, dazai Knowing what kind of conclusion she'd jump to immediately As a woman, and yet he just cannot explain it further because it is vulnerability. HENCE why i like him and fyodor, because fyodor can make those kinds of connections as quick as dazai can.

"Women are really pretty~”

not a hc or symbolism but. Boy why do you talk about women so much and yet date none of them. almost actively make yourself undesirable to them. Sir. My guy. i know what you are

“There’s a word for it?”

special lil hc i have. the mafia is very open and accepting because they simply have bigger priorities than who's kissing who. mori simply does not give a shit if his agents are consorting or if his lead agent goes from a girl to a guy. he won't provide monetary support and unless it's physically disabling he won't make exceptions to rules, but if he's told that someone's pronouns have changed or whatever he'll go "cool" and change the name/pronouns in all of the system, start using them, and be done with it. his only concern is performance and as far as he cares, sex and gender are irrelevant. (on that note, harrassment isn't tolerated because why are you harrassing them for being gay when you can harrass them for the multiple enemies they didn't kill last mission. cmon now.)

this also comes with the caveat that the kids raised in the mafia aren't really educated on it. they're taught normal class subjects, e.g. math, english, etc. and they're taught mafia protocol, and they're allowed to get their own reading material, but the mafia puts in as much effort to teach them about queer people as they do to teach them about heterosexual people. (they do get sex ed tho, which is basic as ever, and which dazai is a whole menace during)

and dazai, obviously, would not really be that interested in either to read about. being brought in so young, i think he was never really taught bias against queer people, so when he had the revelation that he liked chuuya he was just kinda. oh ok. and when he has the feelings about his body that he doesn't like it, he has much bigger priorities (namely the quickest way to die) than figuring out whatever the hell that is.

so it ends up that dazai just kinda is queer and has no idea what it is. he knows he hates his body and he knows he likes chuuya, probably has some surface level knowledge of gay/bi/lesbian/etc. but otherwise no, he's never sought out specifically to figure out the terms for what he's feeling. he actually really hates perceiving himself in any way lol

He still looks like himself,

this little bit: he hates perceiving himself in any way, but he still wants to be him. he doesn't want to change his name or his reputation or whatever else, he doesn't want to be a different person. he just wants to be a dazai that he likes.

It would look wrong be inconvenient for him, and take so much effort. Just… so much. So much that he can’t handle. Managing himself is hard regularly - adding on this, whatever it is, would be biting off more than he could chew. 

there's a river called de nile-

dazai is denying the fact he thinks being a woman would look wrong because of his years of being in a masculine body like he is, hence the calluses mention. but he also is right, that he wouldn't be able to upkeep it. he has to be in a better spot/it has to be something very slow and gradual for him to be able to keep it up long enough to maintain a desirable appearance. he's sorta using it as an excuse to not do it but also he just doesn't want to put in that much effort into it.

now for the matcha fic!

Very big hc and symbolism for this fic: Dazai's ability.

it is an ability nullifier, and i stand by the idea that abilities have some kind of effect on their user and are somewhat sentient. Atsushi's tiger, for one, is not only a transformation but the shape of the ability inside him, and Kyouka's Demon Snow is a whole being as the ability itself.

so for Dazai, he described it once as an "anti-ability." which. what the hell. whump beams him.

i have the hc that Dazai's ability makes him cold because most ability users can feel their ability hummign beneath their skin. most abilities are warm, alive, and it's like a constant low electric current or adrenaline rushing through them, as omnipresent as a heartbeat or breath. just a fact of being alive is that feeling. so then: when Dazai nullifies other people's ability, they can Feel the absence of it, they can feel very empty and very cold. when Dazai is the host of that nullification ability, it's just that electric warmth reversed. an icy cold, all the time, because NLH is a black hole as opposed to a sun. (all my metaphors relate NLH more to an icy lake, but that's the dichotomy)

i don't ascribe Dazai's emptiness entirely to NLH, but i do think it contributes and that he has a complex about the relationship between his own issues with emotion, empathy, and the fact NLH lives inside him.

and that cold gets much worse whenever Dazai actually does nullify an ability depending on how strong it is/how much is being used at the time, therefore the remark about him making a science on how bad it'll affect him, and that scene about him being overwhelmed by nullifying Chuuya's ability; he miscalculated, and was caught off guard by NLH activating so strongly, esp given his injuries and physical weakness already in that moment

and another little HC: Dazai's hinted to have been in an even worse place before Mori and abilities are said to be activated from trauma. so i like to hc Dazai's ability as activating from the result of being tortured with abilities, from a deep desire to stop the torture, also in some kind of lab setting. and from there, Dazai escaped, and Mori got this very damaged child.

so then, through the matcha fic, Dazai latches onto it because the warmth of the tea chases away the cold of NLH.

another thread through this fic: Mori and Dazai's relationship. i think Mori was trying to keep Dazai alive as an asset to the mafia, and that he never... regretted? bringing him in as much as wished Dazai had never shown up at his doorstep in the first place, because Mori sees the value of his skills way too much to regret using them. but Mori also knows kids aren't supposed to do what Dazai is doing. and he also sees the emptiness in Dazai and all his general issues. so it's this very messy tangle of like. Mori can't care for him like a father because, yknow, mafia boss and Mori himself also has manipulation and control issues, but also he's much fonder of him than most others, even Chuuya. no one else would have been able to get away with all the shenanigans Dazai inflicts on him (that kid bullies mori so hard. it's very comical). Mori is simultaneously training him and raising him in a life-or-death environment for them both and it's so messy.

“I’ll make us all some hot tea!” Atsushi raises an eyebrow, skeptical. “Are you sure you won’t… burn the Agency down, Dazai?”

little note here: i think dazai curates an image of incompetency specifically because of his competency in the mafia. obviously everyone there knows he's actually competent, but he hides just how competent he is. partially to get up to his own shenanigans hiding his mafia connections and whatever else, but also partially because he doesn't want to be known as something like the demon prodigy again.

when it's serious, they know he can hold his own (prison arc) but otherwise. he is faking so much incompetency.

“I’ll make a deal - if you manage to make matcha tea as well as I do, I can get you your own expensive set for the holidays~”

ok listen. listen. the slap that dazai gave atsushi lives rent free in my mind because of the moment of hesitation just before it. everyone villainizes dazai for slapping atsushi while entirely ignoring the brief hesitation just before it.

dazai was both trained (as an agent) and raised (as a teenager) by mori. and oda was not a very good dad either. he doesn't have the best role model, for one. but he's also very self-aware when he's older and i think he can separate "father" mori and "mafia boss" mori in his actions. he knows when mori was trying to raise him and he knows when mori was trying to train him.

now. now guess what dazai is to atsushi. a trainer. and dazai is still taking the place of someone older and more experienced teaching atsushi not only combat skills but also life skills/growing-up skills. and we all saw how dazai got with akutagawa; that was an environment conducive to that kind of treatment, where that was being encouraged.

now the agency doesn't condone physical violence and dazai knows that. and he is very clearly trying to be a good person like oda asked him to. so, with that moment of hesitation, he clearly did not want to slap atsushi. but someone else's post words this better: he got complacent at the agency, forgot mori's ruthlessness, and with the threat against atsushi and release of Q he remembered he couldn't be so complacent and began to slip back into the old mafia thinking as a way to survive.

and with atsushi breaking down and not listening to him, the agency threatened by mori and Q, a threat that made even dazai flinch, i hc he got overwhelmed, knew there was one method that got guaranteed results, knew the agency didn't condone it, but was overwhelmed enough that he just. lashed out in a way he knew guaranteed would work, and would get atsushi to listen to him.

so . very long rant just to say that i think dazai is fighting, a bit, to balance his experience of being trained-and-raised, with him training-and-raising atsushi, but he knows the difference clearly between the two and so he'll cherrypick actions like the deal mori made with the matcha tea.

deep breath. it's been like an hour and a half. jfc. anyway there's your answers hsfdbhsdf i have many many thoughts on dazai

ty for asking!

[ladylooch]

Loving & Leaving- Part 3

Visit the series page here.

A/N: Eep! I am so excited you all are loving this. It bring me so much joy. I am legit giddy posting this next chapter 😁 I hope you love it. This fic is consuming so much of my writing time. I'm very focused on getting these two right. I know I've nailed it when I'm editing and feel the way I want the reader to feel.

Word Count: 4.3k

Warnings: SMUT 18+ Content!, Swearing, Angsty, jealousy, poor choices. ha!

Halloween was five days ago, but by the look of the streets of Hoboken, you wouldn’t know. Being from Switzerland, we don’t celebrate Halloween. But when I surprised Nico with a quick visit to America, he insisted I needed to join for the team’s get together, which had to be moved into November because of a Halloween away game. Usually, it’s done at someone’s house, but this year, no one really wanted to host, so we are heading to the bar the team frequents after home wins. Currently, I’m doing the female right of passage by freezing my ass off as we shuffle down the street. Tinker Bell was probably not the warmest choice for me, but it is definitely the sluttiest. Paired with a short, sequined green dress and a thin pair of wings, my emerald high heels reflect the yellowy hue of the New Jersey street lights.

Despite the cold, I look hot. We walk by several groups of people loitering around. I can feel eyes follow me as I move forward. My confidence grows as I smirk, weaving my arm through my brothers for balance as the sidewalk gets a little rocky. Nico wraps a secure hand around my waist before pointing to my right. There is a line to get in, unless you’re with a professional hockey player. The bass of Salt Shaker by Ying Yang Twins rattles my teeth in my head when we step into the dark space. It’s packed with any character you can imagine. I grin, looking at Nico, silently agreeing that this is going to be just as fun as he promised.

Which is exactly what I need.

Ever since Timo left me at the end of the driveway, life has taken on a shade of gray. Work has felt more like a chore than a passion. I passively agreed to a few dates with a friend’s friend, which has been fine, but nothing I want to pursue further. I’ve found myself dreaming of America, which is why I booked a quick ticket two weeks ago, then called Nico to share the news. He was surprised. I’ll be back here for Christmas and two, long international trips in a row is new behavior for me. 

“I’ll never say no to a visit from you.” He concluded. And it was set. 

In a red wine clouded night, I texted Timo last week to let him know I would be in town. I’m still waiting on a response. Despite his silence, I know he’s here tonight, and ignoring me when I look this good, won’t be easy for him. The group of Devils is sitting at the back of the bar in their usually spot. Nico leads the way, my hand on the back of his firefighter costume to not get lost in the sea of people. 

When we reach the group, my eyes immediately find Timo. He is to my right, chatting with Dawson Mercer. He looks up as he laughs, eyes catching mine. I see him visibly suck in a breath before his eyes rake over my whole costume. He tries to hide the flicker of desire, but I know him better than that.

“Boys, you remember my sister, Emma.” Nico introduces me to the table. All the boys give drink tilts or waves except for Timo, who is suddenly fixated on a busty cat at the other table. My eyebrows tug together. He’s not fooling me, but fine, he wants to be like that, I won’t make it easy. I make my way around the table, patting each of the boys on the back until I get to the empty seat next to Timo. I plop right down next to him, grabbing his beer from his hand and chugging the rest of it. 

“Uh. You’re welcome?” He questions with a snip.

“Just couldn’t wait. Go get me another.” He stares me down, blue eyes tumultuous. The cat is distracted by Ted Lasso and leaves to trail after him. Timo sighs in reservation of an opportunity blown. His chair scrapes the wood floor harshly as he knocks back from the table to go to the bar. 

“Here.” He slams the golden liquid down on the table. Some of it sloshes down the glass and puddles on the table. “Kinda bullshit considering you don’t like beer.”

“Oh, I like beer. It just doesn’t like me.” It turns me into a sloppy lightweight drunk, which he is well aware of. I chug a few more sips, licking the foam from my top lip without taking my eyes from his. A whole conversation silently passed between us.

“I said I’m done.” He reminds me. Not sure who he’s trying to convince here cause he devours my lips as they plump in disbelief.

“We’ll see. Too cool for a costume?” I gesture to his white tuxedo. It’s probably a little fancier than his usual attire, but not completely out of character.

“I’m James Bond.”

“Without a martini?”

“What are you?”

“Tinker Bell.” I point to the wings on my back. His eyes hover at the way my skirt hikes further up my thigh as I cross my leg. My bare ass is practically hanging out.

“I can’t believe your brother let you out like that. And where is your coat? It’s like 30 degrees out.” I have to suck my cheeks in to avoid a smile. Even when he’s hurt and mad at me, he cares.

“Hot girls get hypothermia on Halloween. It’s like a right of passage.” I shrug.

“What do you know about Halloween?” He squints, licking his lips after a taste of his beer.

“Not much. But I know how good I look tonight.” I flick my hair back off my shoulder, scrunching it up and tossing him a kiss. “Play your cards right, Bond, and you’ll be the one in my bed.” He laughs without humor, leaning forward until he crowds my space. His cologne assaults my nose, mixing with my flowery perfume. They’re complimentary scents. His gaze drags over my face; a hint of interest is quickly squashed with a cold stare.

“I think it’s time for me to be the clear one. All you are to me tonight is my teammates’ sister.” My eyebrows draw tight together in shock. “Have a good night, Emma.” He pushes back from his chair again, following a few of his teammates across the bar to the pool tables.

What the fuck just happened?

- - - 

My ears pound in steady pulses at both the loud music and my beer buzz. I sway as I attempt to return from the bathroom, bumping into Waldo. 

“Sorry.” I mutter, patting his arm in acknowledgement before moving on. I get back to the group of Devils, standing next to my brother so he knows I’m back from my bathroom break. Nico hands me back my beer without looking at me. 

I feel so invisible tonight. My brother doesn’t care- too busy chatting up a Powderpuff girl. Timo has been gone from the group since he referred to me as his teammate’s sister. I drunkenly snort at the memory. Sure, he must cum in all his teammate’s sisters then. I slump against Nico’s shoulder, slinging my arm around them and drawing his attention.

“Ah..” He coughs out, wiggling away from me. “My sister, Emma.” He tells the Pink Powderpuff.

“OMG! My Big is named Emma!” She shouts excitedly. I glance at Nico who shrugs. I stare back at him like, really? This one? He grins, shrugging again, silently indicating he is interested in her for only one thing… and one night. 

“So fun.” I respond, tossing a fake smile on my lips. The sounds of Party in the U.S.A. blast over the speakers, so Blossom drags my brother out onto the makeshift dance floor. I shake my head at him, rolling my eyes at his choices.

That’s when I see him, pressed tightly up with another blonde. What is with him and blue eyed blondes? I have dark, chestnut hair and eyes. What’s he trying to prove here? I grab my beer, chugging down a few hefty sips before slamming the glass back on the table. He’s doing this to torture me. They’re standing close together, talking and taking fast drinks of their High Noons. He told me he didn’t like those. His smile is genuine, crinkling the corners of his eyes. I can almost hear his soft laughter from here.

She snakes an arm around his hips, stepping closer. He does the same, putting his hands on her hips. I swear a piece of my soul dies when he leans even closer to hear her speak. After months of feeling numb, I want to feel something. Anything. And he’s right here in front of me, acting like I’m nothing to him now. I can’t stand it. I want to lash out, scream, pull his face to mine and shove my tongue into his mouth until he kisses me back with as much desperation as I feel in blood right now. Instead of going to tell him that, I grab the first Devils player I can, stepping into his embrace. It’s John Marino.

“Hey.” He grins. I smile back, then slide behind him to look at Timo. His eyes are still on the blonde. If it was quieter in here, John could hear my whimper. John's hands are firmly in respectable places on my waist, barely touching me. I give him an easy smile, stepping closer so our bodies touch all along our fronts.

“You look like a good time.” I murmur to him, running my hands through the long strands of his brown hair. He’s dressed as Buzz Lightyear, dome helmet flipped up. “Can you breathe like that?” I joke, fingering the plastic.

“Barely, but not cause of the helmet.” I laugh easily, crossing my wrists at the back of his neck as we sway together. His hand slides down my lower back. A heat runs through my body that has nothing to do with John. It’s Timo. He’s watching now. I encourage John to put his hands lower, going to my tip toes to whisper in his ear. 

“Must be my pixie dust.”

“It’s putting a spell on me.” His obvious interest guides his hands further down until he grips my ass in both hands. I’m guided by the ache in my chest for Timo and the undivided attention I’m getting. Maybe I could have someone else tonight, just to forget about him. He doesn’t care. He’s obsessed with anyone who isn’t me in this bar. I grin at John, tilting my lips up towards his. They never meet. A different hand comes around my waist, pulling me back into a solid, familiar chest and out of John's grip.

“That’s enough. She’s Nico’s sister for fucks sake.” Timo growls. John holds his hands up, backing away, clearly heading the warning from his left wing. It’s not John's fault. He doesn’t know who I used to belong to. Which is exactly the look Timo gives me when his blue eyes pierce mine.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Timo snarls, strong hands holding my hips in place when I try to wiggle away.

“Leave me alone.” I shoving off his chest. It’s a weak attempt and my fingers curl in, groping him more than anything else.

“You’re just doing this shit on purpose.” He spits out in disgust. Like he wasn’t just feeling up a cat? Pfffft.

“At least I’m not grinding with Jersey TRASH.” I snort. “That girl? What the fuck does she have that I don’t?” I gesture to my short green dress that doesn’t leave much to the imagination.

Woof, I’m drunk. And desperate.

He stares back at me. His hands are still fastened to my hips, squinting in the low lighting of the bar as the world moves around us. Then, he leans forward, resting his mouth close to my ear as he looks beyond me to where the rest of the team still sits.

“Emma, you know how perfect you are to me. But you are killing me. I’m trying to move on with my life.” Fear grips my stomach, icing my buzz and my anger. I don’t want him to move on. I want him to bring me home, falling each other and forget anything else but how good it feels when we are together.

“I think I’m going to be sick.” I stutter.

“Do you need to go to the bathroom?” He looks around for a sign as to where they are. He starts tugging me that way, but I stop him.

“I just want to go home.” Something about the look on my face softens him. His touch becomes gentle and safe again. It reminds me of when it’s been late, our third time around, and he’s trying to soothe the angry, red rashes he made along my hips and breasts. 

“I’ll take you.” He whispers into my ear, lips slicing across my cheek.

I wrap my arm around his waist, putting my face against his pec. One of his hands moves up to my head, caressing me to his chest. He drops a kiss there then calls across the bar to my brother. I feel him motion around and Nico must understand because he doesn’t follow us out. When I hit the nippy air, I chatter in my skimpy costume. Timo shrugs his winter jacket off, wrapping it around my body as we walk the two blocks back to their apartment building. It’s not enough, so he keeps his arm around my shoulder, his body heat transferring to me. He drops his arms when we enter the building together.

“You drive me crazy.” He mutters when we are in the elevator, rolling his eyes and stretching his tense neck out. I think back to the girl at the bar, wondering if he wishes she was here instead. They would ride up to his place together. Maybe she would get on her knees and take him deep into her mouth until he couldn’t take it anymore. My stomach twists again.

I stare down at my heels in silence after that visual. I feel gross. My heavy make up is clogging my pores with each passing second. My feet hurt. The elevator spins and Timo looks like he would rather be anywhere than here with me. Tears make the floor fade as the door opens on the 13th floor. No attempt to stop at the 10th this time. Timo waits for me to step out first.

“Let’s get you in bed.” He encourages with a friendly hand on the upper back.

I dig around in my purse until I find my keys, giving them to Timo to open Nico’s apartment. He pushes the door open, allowing me to walk through first. I sulk in, tossing my purse on the floor, punting my heels off. The door quietly clicks shut. I whip my head around.

“I’m still here.” He kicks his expensive sneakers off and moves towards me with his hands in his pockets. I watch his approach with frustrated eyes. I am riding a rollercoaster of emotions right now. I hate him. I want him. I can’t stand to be in the same room with him. I think I’ll die if he leaves here without touching me. He sees all of this on my face as he stops in front of me. 

“Why are you still here?” I ask. 

“I don’t know.” He whispers back.

He doesn’t remove his hands from his pockets. He doesn’t step forward to touch me. Nothing. He just stares back at me like I’m some ticking bomb he should run in the opposite direction from. I hate it. Agitation builds in my body and makes my skin crawl. The elastic of the wings begins to feel like it’s cutting off the circulation in my arms. I try to wiggle my way out of them, getting frustrated.

“Fucking, stupid, cheap, pieces of crap.” I mutter, tugging at the white elastic to try and get free.

“Let me help.” Timo says, gripping my hand to stop my movements. He easily loops his fingers through the two straps, tugging them off my arms as I let them dangle behind my back. 

“Thank you.” I whisper then bite my cheek. “Can you get my-” I already feel his touch on the zipper of my dress, working it slowly down, tooth by tooth, exposing my bare back and the top part of my butt. I hold my breath as he gets to the end. His strong hands spiral around my ribs to my stomach, pulling me back into his hard erection. I rest the back of my head on his shoulder and sigh.

“All night, I’ve been wondering if you were wearing anything under this. I wish I didn’t know.” He murmurs in my ear. My hair brushes along my cheek from his breath. I hear him swallow hard. “I should leave.” I don’t breathe, just continue to stare straight ahead at the hallway in front of me. I reach for his fingers, lacing mine between them and moving our hands to my hips, pushing the dress out so it falls down my body. Then, I bring them up my body, balancing the weight of my breasts in our hands. 

“Jesus, Em. You’re making this so hard on me.”

“I know. I can feel it.”

“We are supposed to be done with each other.” He swipes his fingers across my hard nipples like he’s already forgotten his words. A flicker of hurt hangs in the air from his tone, but then I release one of his hands to cup his hard erection and it disappears into the desire between us. He rolls his hips into my touch.

“There are some things a girl just can’t quit. You’re one of them, Timo Meier.” 

He spins me fast to face him. My lips tilt up to meet his and he kisses me back with frenzy. Our mouthes devour each other greedily. His hands run everywhere and nowhere on my body. I grope at his back, then run my hands over his taut ass, squeezing us tight together. He grinds his hips into me, pushing his erection against my stomach. His lips move from my mouth to my jaw, then down to my throat where he sucks my skin into his mouth.

“Missed how you feel in my hands, baby.” He murmurs, tongue lapping at the bruise that will go back with me to Switzerland on Sunday. I close my eyes, savoring the way he praises me. God, I missed his sweet words and strong, greedy hands.

We completely forget about being in the middle of the apartment. I shove at his white tuxedo jacket. He helps work it off his strong biceps. I pull back to stare at the suspenders running up and over his shoulders. I aggressively bite my bottom lip and snap them with my hands. He laughs, running his hands along my thighs to pick me up. I shove the straps from his shoulders then get to work on his white buttons. 

“Cheater.” I murmur, unsnapping his bowtie when I’m done.

“Bow ties are not my strong point.” He insists as he carefully lays me down on the dining room table. He pulls his wallet out of his pants, tossing it to the left of me for easy access.  I watch him, legs spread wide, as he gazes at my folds while undoing his pants. “You guys use this table?”

“No. We eat at the counter.” I laugh as he steps out of his pants. His boxer briefs slide down next and I groan at the sight of him jutting out, rigid and already seeping from the tip.

“That’s good. I’m going to ruin it for you.” I chuckle, reaching up for him. His lips come to mine again, a little less aggressive than before. He takes his time, savoring the feeling of me. His tongue glides along the seam then strokes against mine. I melt in his hands as they come around to protect my head from the wood. Timo sighs heavily into my mouth and I hook my ankles around his butt. He moves his bare cock through my wetness, teasing me, building the tension until my inner muscles pulse around an aching emptiness.

“Love me.” I moan out. He pulls back, searching my face. “Please. Like you said you do.”

“Not how I saw this night going.” He chuckles honestly, smoothing my wild hair back from where a piece of it had been stuck between our mouthes.

“Me either.” I answer honestly. But I ache in so many more places than just my core. My heart beats heavy in my chest, needing to feel a connection with him.

He reaches for a condom in his wallet he had tossed on the table. I grab it from his hands, throwing it to the floor.

“I want you like last time.” He hesitates, nostrils flaring, eyes trailing along my bare body, savoring every curve with his blue gaze. “I’m clean. No one else.”

“Me too.” Relief courses through me.

“Really?”

“Yeah, Em. Not interested in anyone else.” He says it to me like it’s a reminder. The familiar sound of his I love you in Switzerland causes my legs to spread wider for him.

“Show me what you thought about doing to me while we have been apart.” He moans, dropping his face to my lips again.

“I love you like this. So needy and desperate for me to fill you.” He says between teasing strokes again. He grips his cock, steadying his head against my entrance, then gliding his hips forward. My body releases in ecstasy at the feeling of him there.

“Ohmygod.” My eyebrows pull tight together in pleasure. I swallow, then gnaw on my lip as he puts his hands under my hips to pull me farther off the table. Then, he covers my body with his. His hands lace with both of mine and he makes love to me just like I begged. His thrusts are slow and sweet, focused only on my pleasure. He’s deep and generous with each thrust. I stare at him, knowing I’m falling in love with him. He brings his mouth down to mine and our tongues sloppily connect. The table begins to rattle from our movements as I match each of Timo’s deep thrusts with a moan.

“Fuck, I missed you.” He sighs into my mouth.

“Me too. Hate being home without you now.” I admit. I shouldn’t say that to him in the heat of the moment, but it’s true. I do. It’s why I’m here, as much as my brother thinks it is for him.

“I’m sorry I left you like that this summer.” He says, stroking a bit faster into me. “I hate myself for it.”

“It’s okay. I know you had to.” I bring his lips back to mine. “God damn it.” I shout as he fucks harder into me. My orgasm is pulsing within me, squeezing him with each pump.

“Say my name, sweetheart.” I moan it back to him. He puts his lips on mine afterwards, fucking me steadily as I shiver beneath him then collapse into the first wave of my orgasm. “Tell me I can come inside of you. Please.” He sounds tortured.

“Yes. God, yes. Please.” The way we both beg for each other causes a wildness between us. I moan as my second orgasm builds with his faster pumps. I shout his name as I come again, fast, harder this time. Tingles of pleasure rush down my legs so they become limp around his waist. His cum shoots out, filling me, coating my walls in the most intimate way. I grip his shoulders, shoving my face into his neck so I can feel every beat of his heart and gasping breath.

That was without a doubt the best sex we have ever had.

Timo turns his head to kiss my swollen lips. He moans into my mouth as he sputters more into me. His hands rock my hips back into him again as my feminine grunt encourages him more.

“Take me again. Just like that.” I whimper when he tries to pull away.

“Okay, but let’s go to my bed.” He kisses along my face before pulling out of me.

The second time, in Timo’s bed, surrounded by the pieces of his life, is even better.

“You fit perfectly here. Like you could just stay here forever.” He coos when we are done with a third round that started in the shower and ended on the floor of his bedroom, fingers brushing my hair back from my forehead. 

“Tell me more.” I sigh, flicking my gaze on his. Fueled by love and afterglow, I barely protest as he begins to say all the usual things about the life he can give to me and all the adventures we can share together. I say nothing, just listen to him speak, thinking about what awaits for me back home. In comparison to this feeling, that life doesn’t matter much to me anymore. I think about telling him that, but it’s late and we’re both high on orgasmic bliss and it doesn’t feel completely right yet.

“You act like Switzerland doesn’t have anything to offer me. You Swiss boys dream too much.” I rub my fingers along his corse stubble. He shakes his head at me.

“Just give in to me, Hischier.” 

“Maybe tomorrow.” A soft smile stretches my lips apart. He sighs out a laugh, pressing his mouth over mine. We lazily twirl our tongues together, savoring the feeling of being in each others arms again.

By midnight, we are asleep in a tangle of naked limbs, having no idea what we’ve just done.

[sleeping-academic]

august 25th, 2024

as you’ll notice, several days have gone by since the first day of classes!! i may have been too optimistic with the goal of posting EVERY day, so i’ll either have to a) change my format a little bit so that it requires less work for one post, or b) just make posts like these every couple days or so.

overall tho, my first week of classes went pretty well!! i joined a study group for my “archaeology of ancient italy” class, so i’m feeling pretty good about that one. i think the hardest class is going to be my “intro to philosophy” class, because it’s a LOT of reading, but if i keep on top of it i should be okay.

today, i:

🫧 did some household chores that i’d been putting off. i did my laundry and cleaned the kitchen while it was in the washer, then folded it immediately when it was done in the dryer instead of letting it sit out for several days!! the sunday reset was nice, and now i feel like my space is prepared for the week :)

🫧 hung some stuff above my desk and put my fake plants on it. now i’ve got a cute little study area!!

🫧 finished getting caught up on my philosophy readings, then took the first online quiz. i didn’t do as well as i’d hoped, but there’s still 9 more of them to go, so i’m trying not to dwell on it too much.

🫧 went to a work meeting, went home for a little bit, and then went BACK to work for my actual shift. i mostly just used the time to get a little bit done to prepare for the upcoming week, even if i really did not want to be productive.

media:

🎧: “american teenager” - ethel cain

📖: the iliad - homer (translation by r. fagles)

📺: legends of avantris: once upon a witchlight ep. 3 - “let them eat cake”

[that-aspiring-academic]

Alice’s Academic Weekend -

(This is a long one, folks)

So, I have been made aware that while I was so focused on my STEM classes (specifically math) I managed to miss several assignments in my other classes (English, French, PE10, PE9). I also have a unit test on Microbiology tomorrow that I still need to write my notes for, a short horror story due on Friday, and undoubtedly several more assignments that all need to be done before next Monday (the first reporting period deadline).

Given all this I’ve decided to put everything together into order of priority to get my shit together this weekend (and the days leading up to it) -

Wednesday (today) -

Finish writing the bulk of my biology notes ( 7 pages )

Start my note review (bio)

Do PE10 assignments 1A-1B

Finish my Desmos assignment

Start my horror story

Thursday -

Write my cues and summaries for biology (before school)

Get the bulk of my horror story done/rough draft (English, A-block)

Write the rest of my notes review (lunch)

Finish my French idioms assignment

Do sub-chapters 1-3 of my graphing work (after school)

Figure out my plan for RCM L4-5 and finalize my song list

Friday -

Submit any further PE10 work

Finish graphing chapter 3, start chapter 4

Start Biology notes for unit 3 (3 pages w/ cues)

Begin review of Math10 workbook, chapter 1 & midterm review

Finish Horror story, have it peer-reviewed if possible

Saturday -

Household chores

Piano practice, get down The Summersault King w/ LH.

Review RCM L4 theory requirements

Continue independent Desmos project

Contact school support for further details about drug testing volunteer week

Any overdue work (aside from Harrison Bergeron)

Sunday -

Rest day

Maybe math if I have not completed all assigned work in the prior days

I’ve decided to decentralize math, only doing required coursework when it’s due and a bit of review each night outside of test weeks/midterms month.

It is not feasible for me to do as much math work as I’ve been doing at the rate which I’m doing it (entire workbook units in 2-3 days rather than the 3-4 weeks they’re assigned for) as I don’t want to risk burnout and it clearly hasn’t been working, as well as the fact it has been negatively impacting my other classes.

I’m hoping to get close to my last score on my Microbiology test tomorrow (93-95%), though I doubt I’ll score quite as high given that I studied less for this one and rushed myself more. Realistically I’m thinking I’ll get in between 72%-85%, not ideal but not terrible. We are also afforded 2 retests per semester and I have yet to use either of them, so I always have that option.

It’s a lot of volume work-wise for this weekend, but I’m hoping it won’t be too difficult content-wise.

That’s all, wish me luck, folks!!

[bonestrouslingbones]

had to go without my adderall for a lil over a week because cvs hates me but i finally just got my rx after also raising the dosage from what it was before bc that shit wasn't working and i KNOWWW it's just because i've been off of it for a while and this will wear off after i've readjusted in like 3 days but i'm baffled rn at how much better i feel already. like for the first time in several months i actually feel AWAKE and like i have control over my own brain and its crazy. i'm finally doing my christmas shopping after putting it off for several weeks & i'm making plans to do other chores today that don't feel like the fake-adhd-hopeful-denial-plans and instead feel like they might actually get done. the stimulant is stimulating me and to be fully honest im a little mad about it