I actually wrote this on Monday because I was looking forward to it so much, and then sat there suffering knowing I couldn’t post it for another two days. But the time has finally come! Gosh, I hope you guys will enjoy this.
Idea from a sweet anon (I don’t know if you’d be okay with me tagging your blog?)
Second Chance AU
Characters: Marvin, Jackie
Word count: 5.3k
Warnings: malnourishment, small references to generally bad living conditions, injury.
For those who ship my Next Gen boys, Mars Wukong and Jet Black…
So do you know that girl sleepover trope where girls have pillow fights in their underwear and practice kissing?
WELL Mars is a worry wort over not having his first kiss and Jet just lets him get it over with with him. Jet tells him that he should focus on what he’s doing instead of freaking out inside his head. Also, he could use some improvement, but good luck.
Then Mars goes kind of gay on his Bi-ometer and asks Jet if he would let him practice kissing on him. Jet just shrugs and allows it for one hour.
ok i was gonna put this in the queue but im crying lmao
so in plant pathology lab today our class is like, a total of 4 people + the teacher so we were just kind of chilling and talking about plants when the professor brings up the locker of plant specimens in the back of the lab that he inherited when the old plant path professor retired. we were like o cool ok and hes like yeah idk what half that stuff is but yall can see if you want and i was rummaging through it and stuff and then
introducing: bottle of ???????????
-unlabelled except for the phosphate solution and what appears to be some names etched into it on the front
-bottle appears to be repurposed from…..something and is super heavy
-top sealed with aged scotch tape, felt phosphate solution leaking on my hands after holding it for a while
-plant inside is skeletal and translucent white, yet perfectly preserved
-the roots are….what im assuming this was preserved for because it’s the full system carefully attended to with strange knots on them that kiiiinnnddd of look like a fungus or something??
-not a TRACE of chlorophyll in the leaves
-or anywhere on the plant
-like seriously part of me is inclined to think that someone found an albino plant, which does happen but is extremely rare; albino plants have a defect with chlorophyll and cant produce it and therefore die very quickly but like…..maybe its been treated???
I’ve seen a lot of really sad posts about the IPRE crew dying early in the year, who dies and what a difference it makes, all tearjerkers of course. What if one year on the last day, Magnus was like “yknow I’ve always wanted to try something.”
While they’re running from the hunger and the ship is blasting away from the planet say, somewhere near the 20 year range, Magnus is nowhere to be found on the ship. They cleared the hunger and they know they’ll be at the next year turn soon, so everything will reset in about 60 seconds.
20 seconds left, Magnus runs into the control room holding a cactus with a pot and needle-like spines, picked up on the crazy plant-currency based world or something, and gets everyone’s attention. He says, “I’ve always wanted to try this,” and just fuckin,, grabs the whole damn thing, bare ass hands right into it.
Magnus jumps in pain- but it’s cut short as the whole crew resets. No needles in his hand and a black eye, he starts to giggle in triumph. The whole crew is just, staring at him in awe and weird fascination, Taako just snickers in the corner already knowing what the fuck is up.
“Magnus what the FUCK was that?” Lup asks with this crazy, breathy sort of laugh having just watched her friend do something so fuckin whack that she was impressed. He managed to find a way around his impulse control, learning how to dodge pain but still get his questions answered.
After that, it’s just new quest after new impulse at the end of every year. After Magnus in his second year of this decided to swallow a really big rock, Lup went next. She fired off a powerful fireball at her left hand, searing the flesh and leaving a bad smell only seconds later for it to reset in the new plane. She claims now she knows how it is on the receiving end, & that fools don’t play with that shit.
Eventually, the rest of the crew are doing some dumb shit while Davenport steers the ship away. Merle always wanted to be choked out by a vine (‘kinky’ Taako whispers to Lup), Lucretia wanted to stab her hand with a pen before she accidentally did it on a mission, Taako decided to cut his long hair off (how would a pixie look LuLu?) and Barry wanted to drink a flask full of acid. They get really disappointed if they die before the years end impulse-party, where they have to hold off on that thing that may/ may not kill them for another whole year.
Eventually, after having been through so many situations of either joy, annoyance, agony, terror, or happiness, they know exactly which form of death would be the least pleasant, as tailored by their own experiences and worst fears. Some of them are easy, Barry is afraid of drowning, Magnus is terrified of being pulled apart slowly, Lucretia is scared of dying alone in the dark. Merle doesn’t gain a ‘preference’, as he ends up dying at the hands of John most of the time. Taako is claustrophobic and Lup hates heights and falling deaths, though she gets over that when she gains her lich form. Davenport fears failure, but the whole team already knew that despite him never having done a single end of year impulse test.
Hello there! Long time, no see (my bad I know) but, here: an Alicia Zimmermann-centric piece as she goes to Parents’ Weekend during Jack’s freshmen year. [focus on Alicia, Jack, and Shitty] 6k
Somewhere, deep in her heart, Alicia Zimmermann knows she is a bad mother.
It started out as a worry, as maybe it does for all new mothers, that she will be a bad mother. That she won’t know what to do with a baby or a toddler that one day she will accidentally drop him or forget to feed him or feed him something he is actually allergic to or maybe she’ll scar him emotionally somehow and she worried but she survived his childhood okay. And then, after he was five or six, she stopped worrying about it. She thought she was doing pretty good. Jack had hockey and loved hockey and, sure, they didn’t have deep emotional talks but she didn’t exactly have any basis of comparison. Television families told her she was doing okay. No teenage boy wanted to have deep talks with his mother. And, look, if Jack didn’t talk to her all that much as he turned 12 and then 13, at least he was still talking to his father. Mostly still about hockey but she… she thought that had counted. Hockey was like French, to her. Another language she could understand but couldn’t quite speak. But Bob could. He was on top of it. Jack was taken care of.
She loved Jack. That was never the problem. The problem was that her love wasn’t enough. It didn’t matter. It didn’t alert her to any of the facts and maybe it even blinded her– She loved her son and her son loved hockey and so she loved hockey too. She loved her son and then her son seemed to love a boy named Kent and they never talked about it but she let Kent come over all the time and she figured they would discuss it at some point. She just… assumed everything was okay. Even after he was diagnosed with the anxiety disorder and given pills. It was always… well, that was a little problem but it’s handled and under control and everything is okay now.
See. Bad mother.
A good mother would have known somehow.
A good mother would have pushed and prodded or sensed it without even having to be told.
A good mother would have paid attention to how hard Jack was on himself. A good mother would have made sure her son had interests outside of hockey. A good mother would have known that Jack’s long silences after losses weren’t normal. A good mother would have preached balance and fostered friendships with different types of people and stopped the fucking hockey.
She didn’t though. Stop the hockey. No, not Alicia Zimmermann. She encouraged it. She went to the games and cheered the loudest and she even loved it a little bit because she thought it brought him joy, like his father. She bought into the vision: Jack playing hockey like Bob, the Zimmermann legacy continued throughout the ages…
God, she even used to tease Jack about how it took his father three years to win a Cup and she was sure Jack could manage it faster than his old man.
A good mother wouldn’t have done that. So, see, she’s always been a bad mother. Even now, now that she’s almost lost him, now that she’s promised to do better, now that she’s finally read all the books and online articles about anxiety and pressure and the danger of sports and hockey culture… now she’s still just as bad. Just for different reasons.
Now she is a bad mother because it’s Saturday afternoon and he’s been at Samwell for almost three months and she does not feel like mothers are supposed to feel in this moment.
She glances around. At the sea of other mothers and fathers crammed onto Samwell’s campus for Parents’ Weekend. They are not nervous. They are excited. Happy. Enthusiastic. Overjoyed to see the teenager they had left just a couple months ago again. To her right is a father almost (but not quite) breaking into a run to give his son a hug. To her left, a mother has burst into tears. Happy tears.
And then there’s her. She’s not excited to see Jack. Well, no. No, it’s not that she’s not excited. She is. She is. (She is. She repeats it once more just to remind herself). She is just…
She is nervous too. More nervous than she is excited.