#has medicine even tackled that question

[flock-of-cassowaries]

So how many rabies shots do we think Bruce Wayne has had, at this point.

[evilminji]

Ooooh~ Drink mix up? >.>

Because! Wes DID, in fact, get that dream job. HAS learned... after many, many hours of "beat about the head and shoulders with an ethics pamphlet by his great aunt", to keep his mouth shut! Family curse of Sight? WHAT family curse?

He doesn't see shit! Mind your business.

What're you? A cop?

Look, he sent Fenton a gift basket. He was a shitty, shitty "I have to be RIGHT and nothing else matters!" Stubborn lil asshole of a kid. He got better. Grew up. No one is there best Self during puberty. He DOES, in fact, regret it.

Which is WHY, he is deliberately ignoring Kent's terrible, awful, paper-thin, "who meee~?" Aw shucks BULLSHIT excuse of a disguise, like it isn't blatantly obvious he's Superman. Yep. Nothing to see here! Nothing but us chickens! Mmmmm, morning coffee! Delicious.

But see, here's the THING.

The Itty, bitty, teeny lil PROBLEM...

Wes grew up in Amity "Totally Not Supernatural Hotspot For Centuries" Park. He is... to put it mildly, genetically? A freak. His biology is ALL fucked up. Everyone's is. And it WAS NOT made better by the Fenton's playing fast and loose with their hell basement. The Ectoplasmic NUKE that was that portal.

There is a REASON his morning coffee? Is COVERED. Contained. Fenton brand, LEAD LINED, specialty cups. The sort that can't be EATEN from the inside out. Eroded after a few uses. They're ugly as sin, but they work. He even ordered a few covers from Star's etsy shop. (Apparently he wasn't the only one who hated how ugly they looked. Good for her though, he heard it was doing well.)

He SAYS this? 'Cause his morning brew is less... straight COFFEE... and more... how to put this? A blend? Brew? Potion, really. Like an energy drink. From hell. Or, partially at least, the Zone. It's the combination of roots, seeds, and a few dried berries. Kinda like a tea, actually!

Tasty. Adds this nice fruity, warmth. A zing. Goes GREAT with the coffee. And it really perks you up... if you are Limnal. If you AREN'T? It'll desolve your esophagus like swallowing straight acid. And that's not TOUCHING the... witch-y, more Seer specific bit of the blend.

That stuff is medicinal. You know, "calm the mind" and "mental clarity". That sorta thing. With a good ol helping of "don't blurt out everyone's secrets, you spacey bitch! For the love of God, those are our INSIDE THOUGHTS!". Which? Really helpful! Infinitely less likely to get decked. It's a family staple.

Poisonous, though.

They're fine cause they've basically developed an immunity to that part, but like? Wouldn't recommend. It's why he NEVER shares his drinks. Food? On occasion. If he PLANS it and knows not to add and interesting spices. But DRINKS? Never. Weston family brews are basically NEVER safe.

Which? Begs the Very Important Question ™!

Who's Coffee Is This?

Cause it SURE AS FUCK AINT HIS!

You never realize quite how fast you can go from "completely calm and kinda sleepy" to "bomb strapped to my chest, primal panic AWAKE" until it happens to you. His coffee was ON HIS DESK. People have passed by. He talked to them. Cups put down and picked up. Lazy early morning. He doesn't even register, really, as his chair crashes to the ground.

He's shouting.

People confused. They don't realize yet. His head whips around, looking for that distinct cover. Before it's too late. Before someone takes that fatal sip. He spots it. Bolting from his desk. Crashing through coworkers, over desks. Chaos and outrage. "It's 'just' coffee!" They cry.

Kent turns, confused. Pretending. Raises his (HIS! Oh god!) cup to his lips, unknowing. Wes SCREAMS a warning. But he doesn't listen. "It's 'just' coffee" They never listen. Curse of Cassandra. God's damn it. This is why his family fucking CONVERTED!

He TACKLES the man of steel.

RIPS his cup away from him, knows his eyes are frantic. How much have you had?! Spit it out! Wes voice ECHOES in the sudden silence. I'm a META, Kent! It could KILL YOU!

And oh, Oh NOW they get it. Or perhaps it is the burn in his mouth that finally registers. He rolls, spits oil slick nebulae that eat away the floor. There is blood mixed within it. It took mere moments. Superman stares, transfixed and horrified, as Wes shakes. He... he should probably get off of him.

He'll move in a moment.

When his legs no longer feel weak from terror.

The news room is in chaos. Lane kneeling by her husband, Perry trying to do damage control. He... he's probably gonna lose his job, isn't he? Wes wants to cry. Protection laws only go so far, after all. And warning his boss about his dietary needs means jack shit, after an incident like this. Beloved as Kent is. Not that anyone likely believed him.

They never do.

And now he's nearly killed Superman.

@hypewinter @hdgnj @legitimatesatanspawn @nerdpoe @lolottes @babbling-babull @mutable-manifestation @dcxdpdabbles

[screamingfromuz]

Hi there! I am reaching out because someone sent me a question about how to help Gazan civilians without accidentally helping Hamas or spreading more hate against Israelis. I honestly feel lost on this myself, but as far as I can tell you are someone who has done real activism in Israel. Do you have suggestions for diaspora Jews who want to help fight for peace?

So a small disclaimer to the Gaza problem. We have 2 main problems with getting aid into Gaza, the first is the limited amount of aid that is allowed in, sending more money cannot make it go in faster. Problem number 2 is that much of the physical aid ends in Hamas's hands or in the black market and there is nothing we can do with that. I have heard recommendations to wait and see who opens a field hospital on the Rafah border crossing, and donate to them. Despite that, here are some charities to help Palestinians both in and out of Gaza.

I will admit, most of my activism is focused on deradicalization on the Israeli side and solidarity work, so I had to ask around for some of those charities. Some of the groups I know of do not currently have an international donation link, so if I get more good ones, I'll make another post.

Gaza:

Medical aid for Palestinians-

Anera-

Doctors without borders-

Palestinians outside of Gaza and Peace movements:

Palestinian red Crescent- they also work in Gaza, but as the main source for Palestinian ambulances in the WB, I put them here.

mistaclim (Looking the occupation the the eye)- this group is helping to protect Palestinians from the illegal settlers

Keshet- this is a big one. they support Bedouin communities in normal times, and now they are working on getting bomb shelters to the unrecognized villages, and providing a mental health first aid line.

standing together- totally biased, as I am a member of this organization.

Women wage peace- a feminist based solidarity group

Haqel- they represents Palestinians in cases related to land ownership and access. there work is still ongoing even during the war

Center for Jewish non Violence - a diaspora org that also does a lot of work in the South Hebron Hills.

[zegrasdrysdale]

Heyyy could I ask for an Ethan Edward’s fic where him and the reader have been together for about a year and a half or something and she unexpectedly goes into labour at the frozen four game, neither her nor Ethan had any idea that she was even pregnant.

[ a tiny surprise ] e. edwards

paring : Ethan Edwards x fem!reader

summary : Ethan’s girlfriend has to leave the Frozen Four game versus Boston College because she’s having intense cramps, but the biggest surprise of all time waits for her and Ethan when she gets to the hospital

warning(s) : labor and cramps, pregnancy, childbirth, mentions of period

author’s note : i thought this would be a good request to tackle since it’s mother’s day. so anon and everyone, enjoy !! <3

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From the moment she woke up that morning, she’s been cramping. It wasn’t any worse than her normal period cramps so she took some medicine and went on with her day. There was some pain in her lower back though. She wasn’t worried that it was something else. Sometimes there is some back pain when she’s dealing with period cramps.

They eventually got to a tolerable level where she wasn’t curled up in bed anymore so she got ready for the Frozen Four game that Ethan and Michigan are playing in that night. She throws on the jersey that Ethan left for her, drawers a ‘73’ on her cheek right under her eye, then heads down to the lobby where she’s meeting the other girlfriends so they can head to the game together.

For a moment in the elevator, it feels like her uterus is stabbing her right in the gut. She winces and doubles over in pain with a hand flat on the wall. She lays a hand on her stomach and breathes out until the cramp passes. Sometimes they get painful like this.

Hopefully one of the girls has some medicine she can take in a little bit.

Once she gets to the lobby, the girls pile into the bus that they rented as a group since the boys had to go to the arena early. She sits with her arms crossed over her belly because the cramps are stronger than normal.

Rutger’s girlfriend, Kayleigh, sits next to her as the bus pulls out of the hotel parking lot. “Hey, are you okay?” she questions as she lightly rests a hand on her shoulder. “You don’t look very good.”

“I don’t feel very good,” she admits with a light laugh. “I think my uterus is trying to kill me or something. I’ll be okay for the game.”

Kayleigh laughs. “Oh, I get it,” she replies. “I have Advil in my backpack if you need it. I can grab you a drink so you can take the meds too.”

“Thanks, Kay,” she says with a small smile. “Mind if I take some now? I’m really hurting.”

She nods and grabs the bottle of Advil out of her bag. As soon as the pills are in her hand, Kayleigh grabs her small water bottle and lets her take a sip to take the meds.

The ride to the Xcel Energy Center seems like an eternity because of how much pain she’s in. She’ll just have to push through the pain until after the game because she just wants to support her boyfriend in one of the most important games of his life. The Frozen Four games are always important games. She wants to be there for him.

When the bus arrives to the arena, the girls walk inside together. There is a half hour until puck drop so the boys are probably warming up on the ice. Or they’re about to start warming up.

She sits in a seat until the boys start warming up. Even after the medicine she took, it feels like the cramps are getting worse and closer together. Maybe she shouldn’t have come. Ethan would’ve understood if she told him that she wasn’t feeling good. She would’ve watched on the television in the hotel room.

As soon as the boys come out for warmups, she stands up and cheers with the other girls. Ethan skates by and she bangs on the glass, trying to keep a smile on her face despite her insides trying to kill her. Ethan looks at her with a smile on his own face as he warms up.

Then it feels like someone kicks her in the gut. She cries out in pain and wraps an arm around her stomach. Kay is right at her side. “Sit down for a second,” she orders. “I don’t think standing helps cramps. The Advil should kick in soon.”

“They’re never this bad,” she says. Her voice is so shaky. “I’ve taken so much medicine. I don’t understand what’s going on.”

There’s banging on the glass in front of her. She looks up and sees Ethan. “What’s wrong?” he shouts. His voice is able to carry over the glass because fans are still making their way to the ice from the concourse.

Kayleigh taps her stomach in response to Ethan. “Bad,” Kay yells back.

“I’m fine,” she reiterates. “Meds just need to kick in.”

“Are you sure?” Kay asks. “I don’t think he’ll be mad if you need to go to the hotel, or the emergency room since I think every urgent care in the area is closed now.”

She looks up at Kayleigh and Ethan. “The emergency room?” she questions. “They’re just really intense period cramps.”

Ethan points up the steps. “Go to the ER, baby,” he calls. “It’s okay. I know you’ll be watching.” With a frown, she shakes her head. “Please. You’re never in this much pain. I don’t want you to be in pain.”

Kay helps her stand up even though she doesn’t want to go. “I have her, E,” she calls. “Can you tell Rut?” Ethan nods.

He holds up half a hand heart. She holds the other half up before she and Kayleigh slowly make their way up the steps.

As soon as they’re on the concourse, another more painful cramp hits her. Her entire body shakes with pain and she groans. “Kay, hold on,” she begs. “I can’t-”

Something starts dripping down her leg, wetting her leggings. Confused, she looks down and sees a puddle at her feet. It’s clear fluid. She looks back up at Kayleigh.

“What is that?” Kayleigh asks.

“I don’t- ah!” she cries out in pain again. Her legs almost give out and Kayleigh has to hold her weight.

“Okay, I’m calling an ambulance,” Kayleigh explains as she sits her friend against the wall. “You’re in too much pain to walk and clearly something is very wrong.”

She nods as Kayleigh dials 9-1-1 and tells them what’s going on. Her entire body shakes and she has to curl up in a ball to elevate some of her pain. Some of the medical staff has come over to her to try and help. She’s in too much pain to speak.

When paramedics do arrive, Kayleigh manages to let her go to the hospital with them. She also has to do some begging, and she mentions that their boyfriends are on the ice at the moment and there is no one else to go with her.

She’s given some morphine on the ambulance, but it doesn’t do much. The ride is shorter than the ride to the arena from the hotel.

When she gets to the emergency room, they do an exam. When they poke at her stomach, they decide to do an ultrasound because of how ridged her torso is.

The doctor comes back with the machine and puts some of that cool gel on her belly. She grips Kayleigh’s hand as another cramp hits. She bites her lip and winces in pain.

“Miss, did you know you are pregnant?” the doctor asks after a moment.

Her eyes widen. “Pregnant?” she questions. “There’s no way. I still have a period and I never gained any weight. I have no belly.”

The doctor turns the screen in her and Kayleigh’s direction. On the screen is a full term baby. “That’s your baby,” the doctor explains. “And this baby is coming in the next hour or so. Your water has broken, which is what happened at the hockey game.”

“My baby,” she echoes. She blinks and begins to panic. “I have a baby? Oh my God. Ethan has no idea and he’s on the ice.”

Kayleigh asks, “Do you want me to call someone to get him so he’s here?” She nods. Kay disappears a second later to make a phone call.

As the doctor wipes away the gel, she says, “I’m going to get you admitted to the maternity ward and into a labor suite.”

“How is this possible?” she questions as the doctor pulls the jersey back down. “I mean, I had no idea. No signs.”

“It’s rare but it might be because you have two uteruses,” the doctor explains. “One continues to have a period and the other holds the baby. I don’t know why you didn’t show but it happens sometimes. Most women have a belly, some don’t show much or at all.” She puts away the wand and stands up. “I’ll be right back.”

She nods and rests her hands on her belly. Somehow, there is a baby in there. She had no idea that she was even pregnant. Neither did Ethan.

He’s going to be in for the biggest surprise of his life in a few minutes.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

She has never screamed more in her life than she has in the last hour. Her contractions, not cramps, are intense and close together. This baby is coming, and Ethan isn’t here yet.

Kayleigh got a hold of someone, who got a hold of Naurato, who told Ethan what was going on. He said he was leaving as soon as he could, but he’s still not here.

“Where is he?” she cries out as she feels a contraction. “I need Ethan. Now!”

“He’s on his way,” Kayleigh tells her. “He left during one of the TV timeouts. He should be almost here.”

Her OB is checking to see how many centimeters she’s dialated. “Okay, you’re ten centimeters,” she explains. “I can wait a few more minutes but this baby is coming.”

Another contraction and she screams. She grips Kay’s hand so hard she’s afraid she might’ve broken her hand. She feels bad but she needed something to hold.

“I need to wait for my boyfriend,” she pants as soon as the contraction passes. “Please.”

Her OB nods and leaves the room. She looks up at Kay. “Let me go see where he is,” Kayleigh tells her. “Give me literally ten seconds and I’ll be right back, okay?” She nods and breathes.

Kayleigh walks out of the room and she looks out the window. Looking outside helps her stay calm sometimes, even when she’s in sudden, active labor with a baby she didn’t know she was carrying.

Another contraction hits and she takes deep breaths. The door opens a second later and she’s ready to beg the doctor to wait for Ethan when she sees her boyfriend running in the room. He’s still in full gear, minus his helmet and skates. “Oh my God, baby,” he gasps when he sees her on the bed. “How is this-”

“I have no idea,” she replies as Ethan presses a kiss to her sweaty forehead. “All I know is that in a few minutes, we are going to have a baby. I’m scared.”

Ethan grabs her hand and kisses it. “I’m right here,” he assures her. “I’m right beside you through this, okay? I love you and I love our little baby even though neither of us knew.”

Her OB comes back in as she nods. “Are you dad?” her doctor asks. Ethan nods in reply. “Great. We need to push on the next contraction, okay?”

She grabs Ethan’s hand and sits up a bit. As soon as the next contraction hits, she pushes as hard as she can. She screams in a lot of pain since it feels like her body is tearing in two. Ethan has a hand on her back and helps her out. Kayleigh stands on her other side as she pushes.

When she takes a break from pushing, she looks at Ethan. “How are you guys doing?” she questions. “Are you winning?”

He shakes his head. “No, but it’s fine,” he tells her. “I’d rather be here with you. The guys told me to be here with you when Naurato told me what was going on.”

“Full hockey gear,” she teases him.

“I needed to be here for the birth of our baby,” he replies with a smile.

She smiles right back, but it’s short lived as another contraction hits. She pushes more. Her OB tells her to push a little longer.

Then the sound of a baby crying fills the room. She feels almost immediate relief between her legs a second later. She slumps back against the pillows as the doctor stands up with a baby in her arms.

“Congratulations, mom and dad,” she says with a smile. “You have a beautiful baby boy.”

She smiles at the crying baby as he’s handed to her. “Hi, baby boy,” she laughs. “You were quite the surprise.”

Ethan is given the chance to cut the umbilical cord and is right beside her. He puts a little blue hat on the baby’s head as he stops trying. She gives the baby her finger and he seems content.

The OB cleans her up a bit then takes the baby to clean him up. Her eyes never leave her son. “E, we don’t have a name for him,” she realizes out loud.

“We don’t have to think of one at this moment,” Ethan tells her. “I mean, up until an hour ago, we didn’t even know about him. I think we can take a day or two before we name him.”

She nods as her son is handed back to her. The OB leaves the room. Kayleigh snaps a picture of the three of them and says, “Sending this to Rut so he can show the guys. I think they’ll want to know that a future hockey star was just born.”

Ethan laughs and Kayleigh leaves the room to give them a moment alone with their baby boy. She caresses her son’s cheek and tears up.

“I already love him,” she admits. “This is our son, Ethan. We have a baby.”

He kisses the side of her head. “You’re gonna be the best mom,” he tells her. She looks up at him. Ethan wipes away the tears that have rolled down her cheeks. “We’re going to be the best parents. The team is going to spoil him so much.”

“So are we,” she laughs as she looks down at baby boy Edwards. “We have nine months of lost time to make up for since he decided to be a little surprise.”

Ethan laughs and gives his son one of his fingers. “We do.”

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[futbol16]

Just an FYI  • Ana-Maria Crnogorčević

Request:  can I please request jealous protective anamaria over R?

Word count: 3k

Going into the Champions league semi final you were quite surprised to see that Barca would be going up against Arsenal. Nonetheless, you were excited. Especially because of how the last games ended two years ago. You knew the reds have improved their team and game a lot since then, but that didn’t stop you from picturing all the goals your team would send soaring past Zinsberger. 

You sat next to your usual bus buddy, Ana, on the way to the stadium and the two of you spent the bus ride laughing and sharing the snacks you were allowed to eat. 

“How many goals do you think we’ll score?” she questions with the same cheeky smile on her face that you are wearing, the both of you more than ready for the match.

“I reckon 2, maybe 3.” you nod confidently, following your statement by your own question. “What would you predict for the end result?”

“3-0” she shrugs nonchalantly and you chuckle at her antics, leaning into her side more. Your cheeks are dusted with a light pink shade as Ana keeps an arm around you.

 “Okay, 3-1 if we get unlucky.” You can only nod along to her words, knowing that the team is in its best form and a strong Arsenal won’t stop you from scoring.

Walking out into the tunnel already clad in your Barca jersey you take your place behind Jana. Your focus is solely on the pitch just outside the tunnel but you’re also aware of the stares of some players from the Arsenal line to your right. 

You breathe in deeply to calm your nerves and then you slowly exhale. Ana senses your slight distress from behind you and without a second thought she slides her hand into yours, giving it a squeeze. It seems like her gesture has the desired effect because the pounding of your heart is becoming less intense and you feel more at ease. Your thumb rubs over her knuckles in appreciation and the Swiss international’s heart swells at it. Just as quickly as her hand slipped into yours, you let go of it though and Ana’s eyes snap down to your hand in confusion, only to then be nudged from behind and she realizes the team has started walking out. 

The game is intense to say the least. It is apparent that even without Vivianne and Beth, Arsenal are more than capable of creating chances. Barca is doing good too and although the possession remains mostly in your team’s, Arsenal’s defense is proving to be hard to get through. 

You’re experiencing it first hand because as soon as you're near the penalty box, a certain defender takes you out in some way or another. Every single time. More than half of these tackles have been borderline fouls which frustrates you and your team on no end. Irene and Ana can barely contain themselves enough to not spring into action and give the defender a bit of their own medicine. 

The first time you were brutally side tackled, her boots catching a bit of your ankles, you thought you knew who it was. The flash of the red jersey and the aggression of the tackle is one you’ve experienced from an Arsenal defender before. However, when you catch sight of the name on her back, you’re beyond surprised to see it’s not McCabe who’s been trying to end your career. 

“Bloody hell, what has gotten into her?!” you mutter under your breath as Ana helps you up and the referee finally blows her whistle. There’s a fire in Ana’s eyes as she glares at Catley, one that you recognize in every other Barca player’s eyes too. They’re all ready for revenge. It’s a well known fact about Barcelona, any Barca team. If they mess with one if you, they won’t come out alive.

“What? Ref that was nothing, it was the ball! The ball!” Steph shouts in fury, mimicking a ball with her hands. 

“You might need glasses, honey.” Mapi retaliates and while Ingrid tries to stifle her laugh, Ana next to you doesn’t hold back. The referee interferes before it can go any further and hands the ball to Irene, telling her that the team is going to be awarded a free kick. Steph Catley’s expression falters slightly as she watches the ref write her name on the yellow card. 

“You confident to take it?” she raises an eyebrow with a small smile, knowing just how much you enjoyed shooting from long distances. 

As you stand behind the ball just halfway in between the halfway-line and the penalty area, your eyes rake over the players scattered around in front of the goal. Your gaze connects with Ingrid’s and all you need is the small nod she gives you before you’re sending the ball into another dimension with the force you kick it with. The Arsenal players expected you to line your shot up for a header but when the ball goes soaring above them and straight into the goal, they stare after it with wide eyes, their bodies still in a position that tells you they were ready to head the ball away. Dumbfounded, that’s what they were. All of them. 

In an instant you’re surrounded by the team as you do a knee slide in celebration before getting into the group hug. 

“I fucking told you they weren’t ready for you!” Ana shouts in your face as she touches her forehead to yours and you laugh at her words while your body heats up. Even as the team moves back into position, the winger stares after you with a prideful look.

Your happiness is short lived because barely fifteen minutes later and just before halftime, Frida manages to slot the ball into the goal, just out of reach for Panos. 

Despite the equalizer, the girls' heads are held high as you head to the locker room, ready for the halftime speech Jonatan would be giving. 

Ana-Maria’s hand subtly resting on your thigh grounds you enough to absorb everything the coach says like a dehydrated plant. Ana on the other hand, keeps most of her focus on you during those fifteen minutes and she doesn’t miss the pink tint of your cheeks as her thumb grazes your skin just below your shorts. 

Truthfully, the two had been dancing around your feelings for each other since the start of the season. It started when the team was out for team bonding and you ended up dancing with a girl at the bar - far too intimately you had to admit. It resulted in endless teasing from your friends and a scowl on Ana’s face. You didn’t understand why she was upset, and for the first few days neither did Ana. But as the weeks went by and her urge to be closer to you only grew, she had come to the realization that she had strong feelings for you. 

You shared these feelings, you’ve always found Ana attractive but you were scared to shoot your shot with the older woman, scared of the embarrassment you’d feel when you would be rejected. The blonde never made a move on you either, only giving small signs here and there that weren’t enough to give you a clear indication as to how she felt. She has only recently gotten as touchy as she was now, her hand rarely leaving you.

The second half of the game is a hard fought one. Frida and Stina are on the move any chance they get and Steph still hasn’t given up on trying to sprain your ankle. In spite of their clearly good advances on goal, your team has switched up their strategy as well. Zinsberger can’t catch a break in goal with each shot Caro and you send her way, and you’re proud to say that Sandra has stayed clean in your goal. The defenders are working extra hard to keep the ball away from the penalty box. 

Just as the clock hits the 60’th minute mark, Ana sends a through ball that ends up in front of Aitana’s feet who continues the pass towards you. You know you have to make a quick decision before Catley comes pouncing on you. Pass or shoot. The ball is still in the air. Pass or shoot. The red of Steph’s shirt appears in your peripheral vision, you can’t let her close. Shoot. 

With a jump, your back still facing the Arsenal goal, your foot connects with the ball in an overhead shot. On your descent towards the ground you merely manage to crane your neck and watch as Zinsberger attempts to punch it over the crossbar.

You aren’t given a second to react before a body lands on you, many following behind and you lay under the pile of blaugrana players with a satisfied grin on your lips.

“VAMOOSSS!!” 

The switch flips after that and Barca take advantage of Arsenal’s momentary discouragement. Another shot fires into the back of the goal, courtesy to Caroline and you don’t even bat an eye at the way Steph barrels into you when the game is resumed because it is only five minutes after that when the full time whistle is blown. Barca is through to the final.

You ignore the Arsenal players around you and the crowd as you dance around in happiness with your teammates, celebrating the win. 

“3-1 like I told you.” Ana winks at you and you roll your eyes at her.

“It’s not like I said it would be different.” she chuckles at you and then breaks out in a laugh when you gently shove her.

Once everything has calmed down a bit, you shake hands with the one red player you haven’t shaken hands with. You’re surprised when you’re pulled into a hug by the defender but you pat her back anyway. Steph pulls back from you though she keeps her hands on your biceps and looks you over with a smirk. 

“You made my job extra hard today, you know.” she informs you as her thumbs rub into your bicep and you let out a nervous laugh.

“Yeah well I didn’t know the yellow card McCabe’s spirit would possess you.” The Australian throws her head back as she laughs and her hands slide lower on your arm before her fingers graze over yours. 

You barely resist from pulling back from her touch, mildly uncomfortable in the situation you’ve found yourself in with the defender who’s been trying to separate your ankles from the rest of your legs.

“Do you want to swap shirts?” the heavy accent rings out close to your face and she doesn’t give you time to answer as she pulls the shirt over her head. You can’t refuse now though. Steph’s hands play with your Barca kit but she’s quick to put it on once you’ve handed it to her. 

Steph’s eyes remain glued to your toned abdomen as she continues lightly praising the way you’ve played. Just as her fingertips are about to make contact with where she’s been staring, a hand slides across your torso.

You let out a breath you didn’t know you’ve been holding as you recognize the arm and your body relaxes into hers. Ana’s hand remains on the waistband of your shorts, clearly displaying not only her protectiveness but also rubbing it into the defender’s face when her fingers softly scratch the skin of your abdomen, soothing you more than possible. 

Steph’s eyes finally part ways with your abs and her head snaps back up to your face. You almost laugh at the frightened look that washes over her expression. 

“Everything okay here?” That's not a question, all three of you know that.

The Swiss international stares her down, a mix of emotions swirling in her eyes but Steph can tell none of them are good. The brunette clears her throat in discomfort, averting her eyes back to yours as she rushes out a goodbye.

“It was nice to meet you - well formally, you know, apart from the many tackles.” she huffs out a laugh but stops when Ana raises a daring eyebrow, urging her to finish. 

“Erm, well thank you for the shirt and goodluck in the final” the Australian almost squeaks out and you decide to cut her some slack as you give her a quick hug. Still, the blonde’s hand remains on the small of your back and she gives Steph one last glare over your shoulder before the defender practically sprints back to her own team. Ana snorts at that and you lift your gaze to meet the older woman.

“Thank you” you tell her sincerely as you lean into her side and you discreetly press a small kiss to her shoulder. The winger’s face heats up right in front of you for the first time ever and she struggles to say anything for a second. A smile forms on your lips as you see her all flustered. You’d be lying if you said your knees weren’t close to giving out from the softness of her eyes and the seemingly star struck expression on her face.

“I’ll go catch up with Ingrid and Frida, okay? I will see you after” you give her arm a squeeze and Ana nods at you. She stares after you as you join your national teammates while you struggle to pull on the shirt and she chuckles under her breath when Ingrid gives you a helping hand. 

“Du bist eifersüchtig” A voice speaks up next to her and Ana jumps slightly. Lia grins at her with a knowing look and Ana can’t stop herself from rolling her eyes.

“Nein.”

“Ja. Don’t think I didn’t see whatever that was just now. Oh and the hand holding before the game?” the Swiss women share a look and then Ana sighs in defeat as she finally pulls her national teammate into a hug. However, she is quick to redirect the topic as she instead opts to ask about how her friend has been doing since the last time they’ve seen each other.

A few minutes later both teams start heading inside and you hug Frida goodbye as you detach from your Norwegian group. You lean your head on Ana’s shoulder, who without your knowledge glances down at you with a fond smile.

“Hi Lia” you greet the Swiss Arsenal player and she hugs you. 

“I also better get going. See you next time” she tells the two of you and then she gives Ana a teasing smirk who thinks she knows what her friend is about to say. “Sag ihr, dass du sie liebst!” the confusion on your face is one she expected but the blonde next to you had been totally caught off guard by what she said. But, a second later, she does give a small, shy nod.

“Come, let’s not make them wait.” you follow the blonde into the changing room and then onto the bus.

It doesn’t come as a surprise to you when by the time the bus leaves the car park, half the team is passed out and deep in sleep. The dark sky outside the window can only hint as to just how late it is. You’re sitting next to Ana in one of the last rows in the bus, like usual. 

Unlike the rest of your friends though, the two of you are wide awake. You’ve always been known to be very energetic so you can’t even think of resting your eyes. Meanwhile, Ana-Maria next to you is deep in thought about what Lia had told her. 

You linking your pinkies together is what breaks her out of her trance and she turns to you. The dimmed lights of the bus give you a halo and as the light from the street lamps shine through the window Ana recognizes the glimmer in your eyes.

“What’s got you lost?” you whisper, mindful of all the girls who are sleeping around you. The blonde’s eyes are dark with desire and the urge to tell you everything. She swallows hard as you patiently wait for her to say something.

“Look Y/N/N, I just really-” she stops mid sentence, wondering if it was the right thing to tell you. You reach out with one hand to cup her cheek gently, bringing her gaze to meet yours again. 

“You really what?” Ana opens her mouth again and her eyelids flutter at the way her body heats up when your thumb strokes over her cheek. She has never felt so flustered around someone. She can feel your breath fanning against her face, only now noticing that she has subconsciously leaned closer to you. “Ana?”

“I really like you” she chokes out and she’s ready to panic but your soft touch calms her slightly. “Actually, maybe I'm in love with you. I don’t know if that’s a wrong thing, I get it if you don’t feel the same way. Just like, an FYI” she rambles in a hushed tone and you swear you’ve never seen her act so nervous. 

The butterflies in your stomach are going crazy however and you’re overwhelmed with joy knowing that the Swiss woman feels the same way you do.

“Ana, I’m in love with you too” you tell her softly - although truthfully you thought it was obvious - and her eyes meet yours. The adoration in your gaze makes her blush deeper and you smile at her, your own face heating up at the close proximity as well as the confession.

“Just an FYI” the two of you giggle quietly and you press your face into her neck to muffle the sound. Ana lets you stay there for a second before she eases your head back and her eyes move to your lips. Your mouth falls open in anticipation and you gently squeeze her thigh.

“Can I?” Ana breathes out.

“You know you can” is all it takes for Ana to dive right in and claim your lips. You softly gasp into the kiss, your senses heightened and utterly in love with the way she kisses you so passionately, like she’s been waiting for decades. It’s only for a second that you pull away to take a breath and then you’re back in, lips molding together and moving against each other in a fervent yet loving way, uncaring of the people around you. 

“I’ve wanted to do this for so long.” Ana whispers against your lips while your fingers tangle in her hair.

“I’ve wanted you to do this for so long.”

[goron-king-darunia]

Eggtober 3rd, 2024

"Anxieties and Anger" Fried Egg in Monochrome

(Krita, soft chalk default brush, 10 colors/values of red, 20 minutes.)

Inspired by life kicking my ass recently. A bunch of things didn't go right this year, I got sick for the first time in years, and I've just generally been dealing with being unwell, anxious, busy, and all around not managing well. I'm trying to take better care of my health, but it's difficult to make time and track down help because the earlier part of the year was all insurance nonsense, and now it's trying to pin down doctors that take my insurance. My dentist did make an appointment decision for me, which was actually helpful since I kept putting it off due to other stressors. But I haven't been in for a physical lately and I'm having emergent symptoms along with stuff I've been putting off getting looked at or considered. I am wondering if I should start treating my ADHD again, among many other things.

It's just hard to cope with the realities of adult life sometimes, especially with ADHD, and it's frustrating having to manage so much. Life stops for no-one, and certainly there are people dealing with more than me, some even better than I am dealing with my own problems, but it makes it no less frustrating. I wish it was easier to just ask all my dumb anxious questions and not get billed for things that aren't treatable problems. I don't know how true it will be with my new doctor, but with my old doctor, you could get billed extra for bringing up new things that the appointment was not about which is wild to me. What do you mean it basically has to be a different appointment for all 15 new things I'm worried about even if they're probably nothing?!

It doesn't help much that medicine really is such a new and wiggly field of science. It doesn't feel like it is, because we have so many sophisticated medicines and machines for caring for so many things now. But it wouldn't take doctors decades of study to be good doctors if just anyone could tell the difference between "that perfectly normal mole and a really sneaky melanoma" or "that symptom could just be stress-induced and will go away if you calm down" versus "you are actively dying of a disease that's incurable because you waited 1 day too long" or "you literally have a known vitamin deficiency and this symptom will improve with supplements" versus "this symptom is actually new and while it can happen because of your vitamin deficiency, you're actually having a more serious problem."

Of course I'm one of those idiots that goes to Dr. Google for things and then freaks myself out over nothing. But the fact remains that I don't make time to see my doctor enough. And I should. So I will try to do that moving forward.

Whatever happens, I'm doing my best to make time to enjoy Eggtober. It's one of the few things I do for fun as a little "just because" and it's helping me take my mind off things for a bit.

Hoping to see my new PCP soon and start handling my body and health, and with luck, other things will improve bit by bit. There are other things that can't be solved that easily, but without a healthy body, I'm never gonna tackle everything life has decided to throw at me. Wish me luck!

Tagging @quezify as customary, and also because apparently Tumblr is having a bug where art won't show up in the tags without a transparent bar of pixels in it because Tumblr is a functional website...

[starlightglimglam27666]

Ending the Hatred

Summary: The Smiling Critters attempt to end Mommy Long Legs' hatred of them.

One day at Playtime Co, CatNap was just minding his own business when CraftyCorn came over, clearly distressed. CatNap could tell by looking at her. He came up to the unicorn to see what happened to her.

"CraftyCorn, what's troubling you?" he asked, trying to calm her down.

"Why does Mommy Long Legs hate us so much?" CraftyCorn said in a saddened tone, making it clear that she didn't like that MLL hated the Smiling Critters so much

"Good question," CatNap said, even though he had no idea why MLL hated them so much. "I have no clue, but... we could end her hatred towards us, and I know the perfect method!"

Later that day, CatNap told the other Smiling Critters what had happened and how it affected CraftyCorn.

"Oh, you poor thing," Bobby BearHug said, going over to CraftyCorn and hugging her.

"Why would Mommy Long Legs be so cruel to us, when she's nice to Poppy and her friends?" DogDay asked, obviously confused about the situation.

"I have a plan," CatNap said, intriguing the others. "We would use advanced methods to get her to see that we can be friends."

"I know what you mean by 'advanced methods'" Bubba Bubbaphant stated. "But do you think it'll work?"

"I've seen it work on Player, so it'll work on Mommy Long Legs as well," CatNap said, giving him a look of disbelief.

"Let's do this then!" Hoppy Hopscotch said in her usual energetic tone.

The Smiling Critters made their way to Mommy Long Legs' location. When she saw them, she did not look happy.

"What are you Smiling Vermin doing?" she said sourly, but CatNap just smirked.

"First of all, it's Smiling Critters, and secondly, we're here for a little bit of... NOW CRITTERS!" CatNap said and with that, KickinChicken tackled MLL and pinned her down.

"What are you doing?" Mommy Long Legs asked, unable to get herself free. "And how are you so strong?"

"Well," CraftyCorn said, using her magic to gather paintbrushes and art sponges. "After you hurt my feelings with your hatred, CatNap decided to end it once and for all!"

"What are you going to do to me?" Mommy asked, now sounding nervous.

"We'll be nice, at first..." PickyPiggy said, smirking. "And from what I've heard, laughter burns calories and it's also the best medicine."

"What do you mean by... eep!" Mommy started to question, but was cut off when DogDay started moving his paws across her sides.

"What was that reaction?" he said, tempting the others to join in.

"S-sorry, I guess I'm a little... ticklish," Mommy said, but because of KickinChicken holding her down she couldn't defend her sides.

"Did you say that you're... ticklish?" PickyPiggy said. "Well that makes our job a whole lot easier."

"Like this!" CraftyCorn said, using her magic to position her paintbrushes at MLL's sides, while DogDay straddled her waist, his paws positioned at her stomach.

"How does it feel to be tickled for once?" Bobby BearHug said in her sassy tone, which is what she uses on others and she also referred to all the times Player has been tickled in the past.

"I ohohohonly dihihihihihid tht fohohohor fun!" Mommy tried explaining, but her giggling was making it difficult. "And hehehe wahahahas too cuhuhuhute!"

"Yeah, but you're cute too when you laugh," CraftyCorn said, using her paintbrushes on her sides, tickling her.

"Plehehehease dohohohon't!" Mommy Long Legs tried to ask for mercy, but the Smiling Critters had other plans.

"Begging for our mercy only gets you nowhere," KickinChicken said, not letting go. He's been trained to restrain others, having done this to the other Smiling Critters before.

"I guess this is one of your weaknesses, huh?" DogDay said, moving his paws across her stomach, causing her to break into laughter.

"Same as Player," said CraftyCorn, making the paintbrushes go faster.

"NO MORE! NOHOHOHO MOHOHOHORE! STAHAHAHAHAP IHIHIHIHIHIT!" Mommy pleaded through her laughter. "I'M TOHOHOHOHO TICKLISH FOHOHOHOR THIHIHIHIHIS!"

"WHEEEEEEEE!" Bobby BearHug said as she and the other Smiling Critters joined in.

"You might not as ticklish as Player, but you're still pretty sensitive," said PickyPiggy, making a point. "If we keep this up, you could burn more calories."

"I'LL DOHOHOHO ANYTHIHIHIHIHIHIHING! I WOHOHOHON'T HAHAHAHATE YOHOHOHOU ANYMORE! JUST MAHAHAHAKE IT STAHAHAP!" Mommy found it very difficult to get any words out without being dissolved by lsughter.

After twenty minutes of nonstop tickling, feeling like hours for Mommy Long Legs, the Smiling Critters stopped tickling her and let her go. She thanked them for stopping and then smirked.

"Why don't we see which one of you has the most adorable laughter, hmm?" she said as the girls backed away.

[cursedhaglette]

Please tell me your thoughts about Felassan and Solas’s relationship so much of it is left for us to fill in!!

okay beautiful one. the masked empire is literally so slow. i'm bored of it and know how it ends so i'm gonna tackle this without finishing it because i'm a strong brave girl. you heard it here first.

felassan is such a babe, first of all. let me get that out of the way. his intro being "yeah we used to eat medicinal bark back in the day. not this shit though" and just putting the bark he chewed back on the tree? icon. legend. "yeah i'm...dalish..." okay felassan, you've charmed me.

as for felassan and solas, well that sure is the question, isn't it? i think in a lot of ways, it feels like felassan is representative of the traits that solas loses when he loses mythal. felassan's sense of duty and compassion never seem to waver, never lose focus. even when he denies solas the passcode to the eluvians, it is because he believes it is what's best for the elves. solas is mired in his pride and his duty, his guilt and everything going on with mythal that tangles through that, but felassan doesn't seem to suffer from the same... distractions? (idk if that's necessarily the right word?) if solas is the mind, felassan is the heart. you need both to make the kind of change that is right for an entire race of people.

and i think in some ways, that's why solas needs the inquisitor to step into the position of 'heart' (even if unromanced!) where felassan fell. to redeem solas and save the world as it is, solas has to have both, he cannot win with wisdom and pride alone. would he have with felassan still by his side? who can say - maybe trick i guess.

anyway idk if any of this made sense! but it's my personal take on the matter based on what we have from TME, DAI, and DAV. i also definitely think felassan and solas explored each others bodies during the rebellion. look at them. they'd be fools not to. why hasn't someone written an after battle hurt/comfort/smut for them. i can't do everything myself.

lastly the "solas is bi but doesn't date men anymore because he's haunted by fumbling felassan so bad" joke that was going around is also so good i think it's become my personal headcanon too so add that to the list. okay that's all for real

[greatkittydream]

The dragons horde

Yang pov

I was hanging out with rubs today. Normally, I would let her do he own thing, but she was hanging out the monster to day and I won't let her get hurt.

yang knows jaune was a good guy, but he is still a dangerous being. Excluding The fucked up childhood he has extremely strong necromancy That he has little to no control over. If he accidentally hurt Ruby, she would never forgive herself.

Walking down the street with rubs to the meeting spot, she sees him. Jeans and a white t shirt.

"YO VOMET BOY"

"JAUNE"

The sisters have their own greetings yang with a quick wave of the hand, And ruby with a full-on sprint hug tackling jaune to the floor.

Yang couldn't help but laugh at this. jaune protested this assault on his personal space.

"So What did you guys have planned today."

"We were planning ahead to the comic bookstore and then the gun range for ruby."

"And a steak dinner."

"cool minded if I join I need to get my gantlets fixed and a nice stack sounds nice"

"sure I don't see why not, although we weren't planning to go out for food I don't know where Ruby got that from"

"because I'm hungry" tail going back and forth a mile a minute.

“Try not to bankrupt vomit boy over here the only thing you can eat more of than meat is cookies”

The group started to head towards their first destination being the comic book store Yang never really liked comic books, sure they were cool and all and had some pretty epic fight scenes but she was more of a go do it yourself type of girl. literally in most cases for superpowers and whatnot she can literally fly.

Yang has a Steady eye on the two as they hang out making sure Jaune didn't hurt her sister in any way.

“So yang what was it like growing up with a ruby” Jaune said as Ruby ran off to the cashier to ask questions about the newest comic books or if he had any Mint Condition ones.

“You know normal I guess all was a can be sharing one father but not the same mother” she said with a shrug

“I don't want to sound rude and it's okay not to answer but what's the story behind that” Jaune asked timidly

“na ain't no big deal when my mom and dad were hanging out they just sort of did it and I was born and then Ruby's mom came in and stole his heart” Yang said in a nonchalant manner although Jaune had a feeling there's more to it than just that. or at least that's what his mama and papa said not even death can hold love down.

“So uh vomit boy what was it like growing up in your neck at the woods, I don't want to come off as rude but you kind of had a weird childhood” Yang was going to get any piece of information she could know about the threat before dealing with it.

“Well I grown up in a small village, human. there's not really much else to it I mean there was farming but that was mostly done by the helpers”  Jaune said not really sure how to approach that

“Oh vomit Boy comes from a wealthy family to have help” Yang said in a teasing tone.

“I wouldn't call us wealthy, they just sort of help around, don't really talk or do anything else. I remember this one time me and my sister Kept asking them over and over again to help us settle a dispute wouldn't say a word”

“Oh you have siblings that's nice how many brothers and sisters do you have Ruby's the only one I really got”

“Well I have seven sisters” Yang cut him off before he could continue

“Don't your parents have any other thing to do with their free time” said in Horror

______________________________________________________________

Smokinotter: dragons have one to two kids every 50 years. She has essentially heard his family fuck like rabbits which is very true.

______________________________________________________________

“What can I say I have a very loving family”

“God's I'm getting pain just thinking about that”

“Is it really that weird I just have a big family”

“I mean it's not but you said you were out in the boonies right that means there was no pain medicine or anything for that, your Mother must be been one tough woman then”

“Yeah she is she's always making sure me and my siblings had everything we would ever want, she always their best raising us and instilling manners and what not”

"that nice" Yang doesn't know why but she feels attacked personally for some reason.

“Oh my God Jaune come see this they have the mint condition x-ray man series on display”

“You've got to be kidding me, those are super rare coming” Jaune ran racing towards where Ruby was sleeping yang slightly more knowledgeable and more personally attacked than she was ready for.

______________________________________________________________

Next was the gun shop since yang was here she decided to get her gantlets looked maybe get a upgrade or two. Ruby was running around the store like a kid in a candy shop.

Browsing through the different options they had for upgrades, not looking at the price she found one she particularly liked called “Dragon's Breath” it allowed her to channel her Mana into her shotgun shells as they went off making them more powerful.

she grinned showing rows of sharp teeth, till her eyes rolled down to the price tag. Dragons Were inherently greedy if they saw something like they refused to let it go. She liked gold like every Dragon but she also liked motorcycle parts. And when she saw the price for these new gauntlets she about had a heart attack. 

“50,000!” She was in shock at such an outrageous price for such mediocre equipment,  and it made her even more mad how much she wanted it. With a solemn look she put it back down.

“Is something wrong? I saw you smiling at that thing” Looking over she saw Jaune looking at the upgrades she just put down.

"Yeah. everything's fine, huff” she said in a dejected tone that was wildly expensive even if she used her student credit at the local weapons Smiths and shops that would only cover about half of it. and she'll be damned as she let go of her gold she may only be half dragon but she ain't any less greedy.

Walking away to find her sister, she found Ruby staring at all the new high-impact rifles. various bullets and magazine catalogs up front. her and the store owner at this point are on a first name basis.

“So rubs did you find what you were looking for”

“Yup, did you know that they came out with new Enchanted rounds?!?!” vibrating in place with excitement

“Can't say I did” rubbing the back of her head

“So did you get anything”

“Nope you know i don't need anything to be the badass as I am” Putting on false bravado to hide the disappointment that she by Nature refused to pay for those gauntlets. she hates being a dragon sometimes it's not even like human greed to where it's a strong one it's almost a compulsory need.

______________________________________________________________Smokinotter: Dragon hoards are instinctual ways of showing off one's health and strength to potential mates, it consists of things that are shiny to attract attention and things the particular Dragon likes.

______________________________________________________________

As Ruby was putting down her collection of magazines and boxes of Enchanted bullets jaune walked up carrying a single item as the two sisters were going to wait outside. When Jaune was done with his purchase he walked outside and handed Yang a paper bag.

“What's this?” she said, examining the bag.

“It's a gift for being one of my first friends, I grew up with Seven Sisters I know that look you gave when you put down the glove thingy”

A shocked look appeared on Yang's face before quickly pulling out what was inside the bag. It was The Gauntlet attachments. A look of shock appeared on her face before confusion then looking straight towards jaune.

“How could you even afford this? never mind that why, I wouldn't really call his friends just acquaintances” Yang was brutally honest not that she didn't appreciate the gift it's just this was awkward to her and to spend such a large amount of money on someone you barely know something was just fishy to her.

“Oh I always thought of us as like second hand friends I guess” Jaune said in a quiet voice

“But that's besides the point I guess, the Headmaster gave me this cool Scythe from the basement earlier. so I didn't really buy anything and well that was my monthly allowance and if I wasn't going to use it I'd rather it not go to waste” Jaune said in a bashful tone. Yang was shocked for her part, he got double the normal monthly allowance?! something wasn't adding up here. But she put that to the back of her mind he bought her a gift the least she could do is pay for his dinner.

“Well thanks I guess. not that I need it or anything. I know a pretty good steak and shake place around here follow me” Yang said trying to save face in front of a potentially new friend and sister.

______________________________________________________________

"Here we are" Yang said, shaking her hands in front of the 2. The Dragon scale cook out. It's gimmick is that it uses dragon born fire breath to cook its food.

Don't actual dragons, none of them would lower themselves except maybe yang. And that's because she likes free food.

Walking inside being led by Yang They walked into an old timey parlor with checker boarded flooring and 60's booths. Walking down to a seat near the window, motioning her sister and jaune over.

"So this place is something you like, I thought you wouldn't appreciate the dragon theam" Jaune said and I confused voice.

"Oh, don't get me wrong, lots of dragons don't like this place. This place has ben burned down a few times. But I love it." Yang said, smiling and drolling at the thought of a food coming their way.

As they were having their conversation a Dragonborn waiter approached them.  Dragonborn look like lizardmen the only defining feature that separates them from lizard men is the ability to use breath attacks. they take pride in their dragon Heritage which is questionably in existence.

“Hi I'm aqua and I will be your waiter for today, is there anything I can get you” The Dragonborn said in a polite tone

“Steak super duper rare please, oh and cookies lots of cookies”

“I'll take a hamburger steak and some fries”

“Something cheap will be fine”

“Oh no no no vomit boy you're getting something worthwhile to eat, my treat”

“I-It's really fine I'm not really that hungry anyways, Besides I don't really like it when people spend money on me”

“And yet you're perfectly fine dropping your entire month's allowance on someone else. please don't make me feel like an asshole just take it”

“I guess I'll just have a hamburger with bacon then, please and thank you”

"That's a wonderful Choice thank you for your Patronage has always miss yang” The Dragonborn said with a cherry Delight in his voice. Before turning to Jonah with a dirty look in his eye and simply walking off.

“Hey do you have a problem with my underling” Ruby said picking up on the body language way before anyone else could.

“No I just don't see why you would bring an animal among other guests. And frankly you should have higher standards for underlings”

“Well fuck you too then” Ruby said with a snarl as claws began to elongate and fangs began to sharpen in her mouth.

“Hey it's fine if I'm not welcome here I can just go” Jaune said not liking the conflict that was happening.

“huh an animal that knows it's place the more you know”

“okay you need to shut up, Jaune here is a good friend of mine and I appreciate it if you stop that” Yang said with a furiousness in her voice.

“well of course then Dragonkin” the dragons born said with a suck up tone.

As things calmed down and they waited for their food to arrive first came yangs then Ruby's then 30 minutes went by. Jaune makes excuses for the kitchen staff for an hour. By this point Yang is fed up and drags Jonah to the front of the cashier table despite him insisting that it's fine.

“You're not talking your way out of this one vomit boy not only did we pay for your meal  after they were assholes, but they refuse to serve you” Yang said with anger dripping in her voice

“Really it's fine I wasn't welcomed here to begin with I'll just make something at home”

When they reach the front they noticed the Dragonborn

“Hey fuck face why hasn't he got his food yet” Yang said grinding her teeth

“Must have slipped my mind to put it in. If we look at your receipt you'll notice you weren't charged for his meal” the Dragonborn said in a calmed home with a malicious smile on his face.

“Do you think this is cute do you think this is fucking funny, the hell is your problem you're going to refuse some service just because he's human”

“I'm sorry but it's against company policy too feed animals, I will be doing a poor job if I allow that to happen” smugness dipping from his voice

“We should just go it'll be alright yang, thanks for trying though”Jaune said in a defeated voice he was used to not being liked by those outside his village.

Yang was about to complain some more until she got a malicious idea and with a smile on her face  “you know what it is all right, come on let's go”

She said while dragging Jaune out of the store Ruby had long since left to take her stuff back home. Yang promised she'd keep going all right. When they were exiting the store Yang distracted Jonah by pointing him towards a cool looking Firebird up in the sky. It was mating season and they were doing their beautiful dances releasing torrents of multicolored Flame.

As she threw a fireball through the door into the back of the kitchen which set the restaurant on fire. If they were going to play hardball with a dragon they didn't deserve a store.

“Huff, Jaune, I'm sorry I took you there. Maybe we can do this again some other time to make it up. I didn't realize they were racist assholes” Yang said, rubbing her arm apologetically.

“It's fine I didn't really want to eat out anyways too greasy for my taste”

“Good so maybe see you sometime around this weekend”

 “sounds good to me” with a soft smile they both left back to Beacon.

______________________________________________________________

Ruby was humming to herself and her dorm room with her two other teammates,  many would call her stupid or aloof and in her humble opinion they're dead wrong.  she had set out a cunning plan she knew Yang didn't trust her best buddy. so she figured the best way to bring them closer together would be to take them to a place where they had no choice but to be close.

 Yang tagging along of her own free will was all part of her master plan. she was going to leave them at the dinner together although the long wait time gave her the perfect excuse. quietly humming that a plan all came together she noticed Weiss looking at her.

"What"

“What are you so happy about you're even more insufferable than usual”

“My master plan is coming together and soon my sister and best buddy will become best buddies”

“What if this backfires? I've read enough novels to know where this is going” Blake said with her cat ears twitching about. all her fantasy novels and fanfics she's read. and her opinion fiction mirrors reality, and although some of the tropes are outlandish, they are based in reality. 

“Nah what could go wrong” Ruby said in her nonchalant manner with all the confidence in the world.

______________________________________________________________

4 days after the Hang out session ying have been spending more time with jaune finding she actually enjoyed his company. The fact that he found her puns funny, Though by his own omission, he've never really seen a comedy and finds anything she does funny. But still.

She found herself staring at jonam while they were in the midull of professor port selecture.

"Andthat class is when the usra my whole arm. Luckily for me. This gave me the perfect opportunity to choke it from within the basterd. I thought I could not still control it."

The class professor bellowed. As outlandish , as the professor was with his storytelling , this one may have been true in her opinion. He was a Frankenstein. They had a tendency to still control their limbs after they were gone.

Looking back at jaune as he was enamored by Professor Port's story Even writing down some notable bits. Since he was studying necromancy magic, it made sense. Only for her to use magic in her eyes to look a bit closer and realized he was writing down his story rather than anything of importance to his field of magic.

Another thing she found Herself liking about him. He was innocently gullible.

RING RING RING

"It would appear were out of time for today's lecture. Be sure to study what we went over in class. grimm anatomy is very important"

Standing up and making her way over to jaune She noticed penny was talking to him. Is an instinctual part of her brain didn't like this something wrilled up jealousy within her. But she put it down journal was his own person and he could talk to whoever he wanted.

"Hey, vomit boy. How about we head out to the arcade today since yesterday we went to the bowling alley" Courtesy of her rather large horde of gold. For some reason It was easier. Spinning it on him, then was on herself.

"Sorry yang, I already promised Penny here that we'd spend some more time together.So I wish you could figure out how to be more life like"

That's cool. That's fine. He's his own person. He's allowed to not spend time with me

"Salutations friend yang"

Was penny's voice always so annoying and grating. Yang found herself becoming unreasonably jealous.

[harleykeeners]

Be My Life Line (Please)-Parkner

Peter Parker/Harley Keener

Prompt: Peter Parker is overwhelmed. His Dads happen to be called out on a mission the same week his life decided to fall apart. With 4 tests, massive presentations, and no parents, Peter starts popping pills to cope with the pressure of everything crumbling around him. Harley finds him and accidentally makes it worse.

Word Count: 9282

“Hey, kid. Just checking in, we just landed. Everything good?” Tony asked.

Peter put the phone down as he sighed, “Yeah, everything’s great.” Lying through his teeth, Peter started to make his way to the medicine cabinet.

“That’s good to hear. Hey, we should be back in 3 days tops. Just gotta wrap something up here with Nat quickly, something about some rogue spies, I don’t even know at this point.”

“Sounds like fun. Well, I gotta go, got things to do. Be safe, love you.” Peter hung up and just… stared into the mirror. He closed the medicine cabinet and walked away. Tony and Stephen were suddenly pulled away for a mission Peter (and apparently Tony) knew next to nothing about. Which was normal.

Except it had to be this week.

It had to be the week Peter had his Calc and Physics midterm.

It had to be the week Peter had an English and History test.

It had to be the week Peter promised to help MJ with Academic Decathlon practice.

It had to be the week Peter was set to present his work to the other head scientists at Stark Industries.

All in all, he had too much this week. Too much, all at once.

Normally, whenever Tony and Stephen were out, Peter would ask Pepper for help. Well, with Pepper being promoted to CEO, that was next to impossible. After Pepper, Peter would go to Happy. However, it appeared the universe was dead set on making Peter’s week terrible. Happy was preoccupied with training new bodyguards and media specialists (which wasn’t his job?).

So, Peter was alone. Alone with a crammed schedule.

He took solace in his bedroom, the lights low with just a lamp over his desk. He figured the best course of action was tackling everything one thing at a time. Or else he feared he would drown.

Peter found it kind of funny, how all of his teachers decided to assign work the same week his internship project was due for a presentation. He figured he’d start with his Physics review. The packet had 60 questions, and he hadn’t started yet. His midterm was 40% of his final grade. He couldn’t afford to fail- which he doesn’t think he will- but better safe than sorry.

As he stares at the packet, Peter wonders why he cares so much. Maybe it's because everyone tells him how “lucky” he is. How he has to make his Dads proud. How he has to live up to his Dads expectations. How he has to prove he’s “worthy” of the life he has.

He knows it’s irrational.

But, it's still enough to motivate him to study himself into an early grave.

He stares at the paper… and completely blanks out.

Friday alerts Peter that it is time for dinner. Normally Tony would make dinner, (or at least leave Peter some leftovers), however, he left in such a rush that Peter had to make his own dinner. The only issue with that is, Peter easily loses track of time. Peter would find himself burning several meals and leaving the oven on multiple times.

It’s not that Peter is a bed cook, just not a safe one.

Tony had banned Peter from the kitchen multiple times.

Worse comes to worst, Peter will cook. However, he’d rather not. Whenever Tony and Stephen would usually leave, Pepper or even Harley would come over and cook. They’d make a day of it.

As Peter stares into the fridge, he really starts to contemplate calling or texting Harley. However, he imagines it’d go something like this:

“Harls, how do I make pasta?”

“Peter, you can not be serious…”

Once Peter sees that there isn’t food, he goes back to his room. He doesn’t want to waste more precious study time. Besides, he wasn’t that hungry. Dinner could be a bit later.

Peter went back to his packet and about his day.

Before he knew it, Friday alerted him it was midnight.

“Great..” Peter muttered. He hadn’t eaten and still didn’t understand certain problems in his review packet.

Peter gave up and started getting ready for bed. He wasn’t that hungry anyway. He set his alarm and then remembered, Tony wasn’t here to drive him. He’d have to take the bus.

Peter set his alarm for 5 A.M.

After a quick shower, he settled into bed and checked his phone. No notifications. It seemed his Dads were busy.

“Goodnight,” Peter says to himself. He could feel it, this was going to be a hard week.

Initially, Peter thought he’d be fine. His Dads joke about how it would be a trial run for college. Peter would be responsible for getting to school, work, and all the house chores. “I’ll be fine,” Peter said. “Go! Go save the world!” Peter ushers his Dads out the door after a quick goodbye.

He wishes he went with them.

The alarm hurls him awake. Peter fights every force known to man, plus some, to get out of bed. His phone's brightness slightly blinds him, and he sees the time says 5:10 A.M. and a text from his Dad.

Dad: Have a good day! Just killed a weird alien, will bring goop as souvenir!

9:45 P.M.

Peter hurls himself out of bed and makes his way into the bathroom.

“What the fuck!” Peter shouts as he hops into the freezing shower. He laughs to himself, “Oh, the universe is out to get me.”

Pro: Peter was no longer sleepy.

Con: Peter was freezing in the middle of January, in New York.

He rushes to pack his bag, making sure to shove his review packet in there. Peter hoped to do a few extra questions on the bus. Racing downstairs, Peter quickly grabs a banana for breakfast and races out the door.

“Next bus in 30 minutes,” reads on the bus app. Great, that only means Peter just missed the bus.

He sat at the bus stop, regretting not dressing warmer, and started working on his review packet. The smell of weed hit him as a few people started to gather at the bus stop. It frustrated him that he had to smell weed this early in the morning. That was the main reason he asked Tony to drive him to school.

He wasn’t a fan of starting his day with the horrid stench of weed at 5:30 A.M.

By the time the bus came, Peter had to fight his way on. He ended up standing in the alley, holding on to the overhead rails for support. Any plans to keep studying went out the window.

The morning bus was always oddly crowded. People getting on would shove and jostle Peter, and he simply got used to it.

As luck would have it, Peter forgot to grab his headphones. The nice thing about the morning bus was that no one tried to talk to him. He quietly watched the street view and the soft fall of snow outside.

He found comfort in the route. It was the same route every day. It was a constant.

When he finally got off at Midtown, the time was 6:45 A.M. Peter had 15 minutes before class in which he can continue his studies. He found a small corner by the school and settled down.

“Yo, you got those practice questions I asked for?” MJ asks. She seemed to appear out of thin air and scared the shit out of Peter.

“Oh, no. Sorry, it completely slipped my mind.” He answered as MJ opted to sit next to him. Peter forgot that MJ was in the hospital with her mother and needed help with Academic Decathlon practice questions.

“Ah, don’t sweat it. I just need them before Thursday.” She looks over his shoulder at the packet. “Last minute cramming?”

Peter nods and sighs at the same time. “Yeah. I think I’ll be fine but can never be too sure.”

MJ laughs and quips back “Yeah, don’t be like Flash. He’s going on and on about how he knows he’ll ace it but” MJ leans closer to Peter, “If you look at him closely, you can see the panic in his eyes.”

They shared a laugh before MJ got up to roam around school a bit before class. Peter was feeling a bit more confident, however, his test anxiety was acting up. Bad enough that he has to take this test at the end of the day. Now he’ll just be anxious all day.

Throughout the day, Peter’s head started to hurt. Maybe it was the lack of sleep, mixed with his empty stomach, and his anxiety that started making his head spin.

It was fine, he just needed to get through this midterm. That he forgot about until yesterday. That was worth 40% of his grade. That could tank his 96% “A”. That Flash 100% bombed if his face at lunch was anything to tell by.

If Peter played his cards right, he just needed 81% to end up with 90%. He needs to end the semester with an “A”. He can only afford to get 12 questions wrong. He should have studied earlier. His head is spinning. His palms are sweating. When did it get so hot?

Peter flips over his test and quickly skims the questions. He doesn’t remember what happens next.

He walked out of the classroom, feeling relief that it was finally over. Until he remembers he has to go on patrol.

Peter really didn’t want to go on patrol as he had his Chemistry midterm on Thursday. But, Spider-Man can’t just disappear for a week. So, despite his better judgment, he calls Ned to take his bag.

Normally, Peter loves patrol. He loves swinging from building to building and helping those in need. Peter finds that being Spider-Man is one of the few moments he can truly be himself. No pressure from school, friends, or his Dads. Spider-Man is his window to freedom.

And right now, Peter wants to slam the window shut. Right now, Peter needs to be studying. However, just as he thinks that Peter sees a cat in a tree.

“Hey! Someone a little stuck?” Peter asks the cat, not really expecting a response. (However, he doesn’t ignore the possibility of a talking cat.) Luckily, the cat doesn’t try to scratch him. Peter easily scoops up the cat and returns it to the ground.

“I feel like I should find your owner…” The cat ends up running away behind some home, allowing Peter to conclude that it was an outside cat that simply got stuck.

He wishes his patrol ended there. Over the next 3 hours, the universe decided to line up every petty crime back-to-back. First, Mr. Delmar found himself behind gunpoint. Then, some teenagers decided to rob a gas station. Followed by three guys causing a commotion on the subway. And the cherry on top of this picture-perfect night was a woman getting mugged right as Peter was going to go home.

Peter knows he’s there to help. But sometimes, sometimes he wishes he could be selfish and take the day for himself.

He swings by Ned’s window to collect his bag and makes his way home.

“Welcome home, Peter. It is currently 9:37 P.M.” Friday announces. Peter simply groans and makes his way to the shower. One thing he feels he must do is shower after patrol. Even though he should go to bed, Peter needs to study.

The relief Peter feels as the hot water hits his shoulders is unparalleled. It's the first moment of relaxation all day.

As Peter gets dressed, he notices the clock strikes 10 P.M. That gives him roughly an hour to study. He silences his phone to avoid all distractions and hits the books.

Dad: Everything okay? Haven’t heard from you yet

10:12 P.M.

Pops: Hope you’re doing well, Peter.

10:19 P.M.

Dad: Sleep well, kid. Love ya

10:35 P.M.

He doesn’t notice the missed texts. Peter wakes up on his desk.

His phone is screaming at him from across the room. His head hurts and the lights he left on blind him.

“Shit,” He thinks. Peter pulls himself from the desk, his back in agony and his head pounding. “Friday, what time is it?”

“It is 6 A.M, Peter.”

“Oh, shit.” Peter thinks. “I’m going to miss the bus.” Immediately, Peter throws on the first thing he sees and races out the door. No time for breakfast. Now that he thinks about it, he missed dinner yesterday.

As he rushes to the bus stop, Peter realizes the bus is approaching. Luckily, there's a line of people to get on so Peter makes it on in time. Way too close for comfort.

By now, his head is pounding. He keeps forgetting to eat and he’s not getting enough sleep. He’s still sore from patrol and he’s anxious about his tests. And now, he’s out of breath from chasing the bus.

It’s not like today is going to get any better. Peter knows he still has to do the Academic Decathlon questions MJ asked for. Plus, he needs to finish patrol quickly to review some formulas that were wrong on his internship project.

Once again, MJ finds him sitting in the same corner, now reviewing Chemistry. Peter sees her from the corner of his eye and prepares to let her down again.

“Before you ask, no, I still don’t have the AcaDeca questions. I’m sorry, I’ll try my hardest to get them done by tomorrow.” Peter doesn't promise and he isn’t even sure what he just said is true.

He doesn’t really know why he can’t just tell MJ he doesn’t have the time to do them.

Well, Peter knows why.

He doesn’t want to let her down. He doesn’t want to admit he can’t do something. He doesn’t want to admit he bit off more than he can chew. Peter wants to be someone people can rely on. But right now, he can’t even rely on himself.

“No sweat, just let me know if it’s too much. I can always ask Ned to do them instead.” MJ calmly answers back.

Peter should tell her that would be better, but something stops him.

“Hey, MJ.” Peter finds himself saying. "Do you have any Advil on you?”

“Yeah, why? Headache?”

Peter nods his head as MJ hands him the small pill. “Slept horribly.” He doesn’t even bother getting water and dry swallows the pill. MJ shoots him a look of sympathy and understanding.

“Happens to the best of us,” she says. With that, MJ bids Peter farewell and he resumes his studies.

When 3rd period rolls around, Peter is hit with the fact that he indeed has a history test today. He’s not panicking, just annoyed he forgot. It seemed like things were slipping from his memory recently.

The class is silent as they take their test and Peter starts to feel dizzy again. He didn’t eat during lunch and instead kept studying. He drinks some water, which does help him a little, but right now Peter just wants to put his head down.

He finishes his test and makes a dash for the bathroom. He just needs a minute to breathe. “Okay, just calm down. Just relax and focus,” Peter thinks as he splashes water onto his face. He begins to form a list and organize himself:

Patrol.

Internship formula.

Chemistry Midterm.

English test.

Academic Decathlon Questions.

And dinner.

He keeps forgetting that one.

Peter just needs to better manage his time. Other than that, he sees no reason to be overwhelmed. He’s just all over the place. However, his head wasn’t feeling much better.

The nurse can’t give him any medication so Peter will have to wait till he gets home.

The bell finally rings and Peter makes a dash for an empty alleyway. He doesn’t bother giving Ned his bag as he simply webs it to the wall. Peter jumps into his suit and begins his quick patrol. No more than an hour, the city gets Spider-Man for one hour and that’s it. Today, Peter Parker is needed more than Spider-Man.

Rushing to wrap the patrol up, Peter ends up slamming into a pole.

“Fuck!” He shouts and concludes patrol then and there. His arms are throbbing but that doesn’t matter, Peter still needs to get home and review his project.

The tower is freezing, and Peter makes a run to the bathroom. With no time to revel in the soothing hot water, he quickly cleans up the sweat and blood and changes into his comfort clothes. The other interns will simply deal with Peter in Harley’s hoodie and sweatpants.

Before going down to the lab, Peter goes to the medicine cabinet. His head is killing him and the pain in his arms isn’t going away. He looks at the bottle of Advil and opens it. He takes two for his headache and two more for his arms.

As he swallows the pills, Peter realizes that he hasn’t eaten yet. However, he then remembers Friday exists. “Friday, could you order a pizza and deliver it to the lab for me?”

“Of course, Peter.” Friday happily responds.

With that settled, Peter heads to the lab.

Peter is face to face with the whiteboard and one problem on it. He’s been going over it for hours. He keeps ending up with a remainder, however, it ruins the machine's code. All the other interns have taken a stab at it and none have been successful.

“This is going to be the death of me.” One of them says, which by the size of their eye bags, seems to be right.

“I swear I’m going insane. How do we keep getting a remainder? We’ve used every rational method…” Another intern says.

“We have to be missing something super obvious. Maybe, we need a new set of eyes?” Peter says and then realizes his error. They have all been staring at the same problem for the better course of an hour now, and probably all have tunnel vision.

The only issue is, they've run the problem by every intern.

“Are you going to call your Dads? I bet they could figure this out.”

And that comment struck a nerve in Peter. Mainly because he knows he can solve this. He’s solved this type of problem thousands of times before. But for some reason, he’s stuck.

They have to figure this out, as they are set to present this robot to the pantheon of scientists at Stark Industries on Thursday.

“Wait…” one of the interns speaks up, “Isn’t Harley in today?”

Peter silently cries tears of joy.

The universe is throwing him a bone.

Harley is an intern in every way but legally. Peter rushes to call the front desk and hunts Harley down. “Send Keener to lab 37, immediately. Tell him it’s life or death.”

They all let out a sigh of relief, finally having a small break from the same numbers on the whiteboard. It’s 8:45 P.M. and Harley is met with five interns surrounded by several cups of coffee and energy drinks.

“What’s going on?” Harley asks in a slight panic.

Peter doesn’t answer. He simply hands him a dry-erase marker and places him in front of the whiteboard. Harley doesn’t need direction, as Peter can see his mind running as he stares at the problem. They all leave him be.

Peter takes the time to pick up his pizza and eat a bit. He forgot how good New York pizza is. With some food in his stomach, Peter quietly sneaks off to take another pill. His arms are still throbbing and his head is killing him. At least now he has some food in his system.

He comes back to see Harley on a completely new board, the previous one filled with equations.

“Still can’t crack it?” he asks.

“Darling, I think you finally got me. What the hell is this?”

“I have no idea. We’ve been stuck on this for weeks and keep getting a remainder, which then causes a system error in the bot. Thought you’d be able to figure it out.” Peter answers.

“Do you guys still have your previous proofs?”

“Yeah, right over there.” Peter points to a stack of paper on a nearby desk. Harley nods and ruffles through the stack, his eyes quickly skimming the numbers.

Peter goes off to grab some water. He gets the compulsion to check his phone and notices he has a few texts from Tony and Stephen.

Dad: Just checking in, all good?

6:11 P.M.

Dad: Would you like an alien finger as a souvenir?

8:24 P.M

Peter laughs at the messages and sends back a quick selfie to make sure Tony knows he is indeed alive (despite what his body is telling him). To his surprise, Tony replies right away and they spend a few seconds discussing TSA guidelines for transporting severed alien fingers.

Harley then speaks up and asks, “Peter, what’s the square root of -1?”

“It’s i.” He quickly responds. The square root of -1 does not exist, so its i, which stands for an imaginary number.

“Right, and who wrote this?” Harley calls him over to review some work. He points to some long equation where there’s a smudged number.

“Does that say 1 or i?” He asks.

Peter sees red. They have all spent weeks looking over this problem, going slightly insane, all because of some poor penmanship.

“That’s supposed to be an i..”

“Yeah, but then they added it to the equation as if it were a one- which throws everything off-”

“By one,” Peter concludes. “That’s why we keep having a remainder.”

In a moment of pure blinding rage, Peter throws all the work onto the floor. His entire team had spent weeks refining their robot, all because someone misread a number. Peter was fuming.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Peter shouts.

This grabs everyone's attention. They all gather around Harley, who's picking up the paper on the floor. “Hey, at least we caught it now and not in front of the professionals.” Harley tries to reassure Peter.

The group nods, but Peter doesn’t care.

He’s beyond exhausted and at the end of his patience.

He quickly checks his phone and sees that it’s 10:22 P.M. He’s even more frustrated as he still needs to shower and do homework. However, before he storms off he speaks up, “Next time we do something like this, we are all making our numbers and variables extremely legible.” He doesn’t wait to see the looks on everyone’s faces and storms off to his room.

The entire fiasco was making his head hurt even more, so Peter pops another pill before bed. At least he ate today. Peter will take the small victory.

He lost track of how many pills he took today.

Before going to bed, Peter realizes that he doesn’t care about bothering Happy. He calls Happy and -borderline begs- him to take him to school. Happy agrees and Peter is over the moon he can sleep in a bit more.

The extra hours of sleep do wonders for Peter. He’s able to take a shower without rushing and is even able to eat a light breakfast. Peter allows himself to stop and breathe. He feels like he hasn’t had the chance to.

“Kid, are you ready to go?” Happy calls out as Peter quickly packs his bag. He nods and they both make their way to the cars. Peter hops in the back and, to his surprise, ends up falling asleep.

(It shouldn’t have come as a surprise. He looks like shit.)

It was a much needed power nap, and Peter felt slightly better. He says goodbye to Happy and makes his way to his corner. He sees Ned sitting there, eagerly waiting for him.

“Woah, dude are you okay?” Ned asks with concern. Peter simply waves him off and says he’s fine. Ned doesn’t question it and simply changes the subject to the Academic Decathlon training they have in two days. With that, Peter remembers that he needs to finish those questions. He makes a mental note to finally start them.

Peter knows he has his English test today, and he honestly can’t be bothered to review. He knows he’ll be fine.

Instead, he begins the Academic Decathlon questions he promised MJ he’d have ready for tomorrow. Now, the challenge with that is that he needs to come up with questions that are challenging- but not impossible. Which is extremely difficult.

He promised MJ 30 questions: Ten math questions, ten science questions, and ten history/geography questions. In the first two sections, Peter had it in the bag. He pulled several problems from projects he’d seen in the labs and even a few Tony used on his suits.

The history/geography ones stumped him. This was MJ’s field of expertise, not Peter’s.

However, Peter’s too stubborn to ask for help. It doubles as reviewing, in a weird way. Peter pulls several articles from various historical moments and begins crafting some questions. He convinces himself that he’s reviewing his reading compression skills.

By the time his English test rolls around, Peter has managed to complete 26 questions. He’s running on pure adrenaline and 2 more Advills, but he’s getting it done. Like clockwork, Peter blanks out during his test. He’s sure he did fine, English wasn’t ever challenging to him.

However, he can’t afford to worry about that. In the grand scheme of things, that test was less than 1% of his stress. He almost forgot about his Chemistry midterm tomorrow. Plus, he had his presentation and AcaDeca training the following day.

Peter sometimes wishes he knew how to say no.

Patrol was starting to feel more like a job. Peter dreaded it and that frustrated him because Peter loved helping people. He loved seeing people smile and making their day. Being Spider-Man is one of the things Peter’s the proudest of. However, he can’t help others if he can’t even help himself. That’s evident by the empty pill bottle in his bag.

Once again, Peter is convinced the universe is out to get him. Everything that could go wrong, goes wrong. Mr. Delmar gets held at gunpoint, the bank has two attempted robberies, Peter counts seven muggings, and finally, some punks thought it would be funny to rob the pawn shop run by the old lady. Honestly, he couldn’t catch a break.

And it was one after another. Spider-Man didn’t stop and was constantly moving between crimes. He was getting overwhelmed and his movements were getting sloppy. The worst part was that Peter wasn’t pulling back his punches. There was so much going on at once that controlling his strength was the last thing on his mind.

That’s when he finally accepted he had a problem.

He saw the blood on his hands and the horrified looks of the criminals he was hurting. Thankfully, most civilians had fled the area so they didn’t witness the grotesque image of Peter decking them with ease. So Peter had to call the cops and the ambulance to patch up the bodies he left behind.

He was getting irritable and irrational. He has to cut the patrol short. Spider-Man is becoming more of a danger rather than an aid.

His knuckles are busted open and he has bruises all over his chest. When he gets home, Peter downs another 6 pills to try and numb the pain. He hasn't eaten and he hasn’t showered but that isn’t his concern. He sloppy puts on some bandages over his wounds and immediately hits the books.

By now it's 8:48 P.M. and Peter is about to pass out. He’s staring at his desk with his chem packet and AcaDeca questions all spread out. He’s almost done but he's beginning to see spots. His head is pounding and no matter how many pills he takes, the pain isn't going away. It hurts to move and he’s hungry and he knows he stinks.

Finally, it seems the universe has him beat and Peter snaps.

Peter- against his will- breaks down. He’s crying his eyes out and his head is killing him. Peter can feel a migraine coming on and he doesn’t think he’ll survive. He begins hyperventilating and he runs for more pills. Whether or not they work doesn’t matter, Peter’s convinced himself it's better than nothing.

By this point, Peter’s blocked out all his surroundings. Therefore, he doesn’t notice when Harley walks onto the floor and calls for him.

“Hey, Peter! So, for our presentation, I was thinking we should maybe revisit the previous reversion with-” Harley stops dead in his tracks when he finds Peter.

Peter knew what he was doing was wrong. He knew this wasn’t healthy. He knew he was destroying his body. But Peter was ashamed.

He was too prideful to ask for help.

Harley simply looks at him, and Peter knows what it looks like. His hair is a mess, his hands are bloody, his face is bruised, his eye bags are heavy, and the empty pill bottle on the floor seals the deal.

“Peter, what did you do?” Harley asks with worry and anger in his voice.

“I’m fine. Harls. I’m just stressed.” Peter waves off. The last thing he wants is for Harley to lecture him. “I’m okay, you can go. I have homework I need to finish.”

“No! I’m not gonna sit around and watch you do this to yourself!” Harley yells. He starts to pace the living room back and forth, shaking his head and looking in shock.

“You preach on and on about how drugs are the downfall of our generation and now- what? You’re popping pills? Peter, what the hell?”

Peter feels awful. He feels like shit. He wants the ground to swallow him whole.

Peter knows what he’s doing is wrong. He knows he's in the wrong. But… he just wants to help people. He just wants to meet their expectations. And now… he feels like a failure, and Harley is only rubbing salt in the wound.

“Harley, please…” Peter breaks down and Harley snaps out of his angry trance.

“Please, just hold me.” Peter wails as he falls onto the floor. He holds himself tight as he tries to process the millions of thoughts swimming in his head. Harley suddenly drops to the floor and begins to comfort Peter.

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t know what to do. I’m so stressed. And it started small.” Peter starts. He isn’t sure if he hears Harley ask questions, but now he can’t stop talking.

“I was just having such bad headaches and taking them made it better. But then I started taking them whenever I got stressed and- I was so stressed this week. Patrol was so hard and they helped with the pain, and I lost track of how many I’ve had. I’m so sorry to disappoint you, but I already feel like shit, Harls. I don’t need you reminding me of the failure I am. I already know that! I let you down, I let my Dads down, I let myself down. I let everyone down!”

“I just want my Dads.” Peter sobs into Harley’s arms. “I’m so tired…” Tears are filling his eyes and it's getting harder to breathe. His chest feels tight and he’s in so much mental anguish and physical pain that he isn’t even really present at the moment.

Harley rocks Peter back and forth. He runs his fingers through Peter’s hair and kisses his forehead. “It’s okay. I’m sorry I snapped. I just… I care about you so much I got worried.”

“Where are my Dads?”

“I’ll call them right now.” Harley then forces Peter to look at him.”Tell me what you need. Tell me how I can help you.” Peter can’t verbally answer but he simply signals towards his chest. Harley removes his suit and notices the black and blue bruises with dried blood. Harley also notices Peter's greasy hair.

“Let me make you a meal and run you a bath,” Harley whispers into Peter’s hair and hugs him tighter.

While Harley goes to the bathroom, Peter passes out on the floor, finally allowing himself some peace. He doesn’t remember falling asleep. He wakes up to the smell of chicken soup and Harley gently shaking him.

“Hey, the bath’s ready. I called your Dads and they’ll be here in the morning. Also, I talked to Ned. You’re not going tomorrow.” Harley says as he lifts Peter onto his feet and helps him remove his suit.

“Harls, I have to go tomorrow. I have my midterm and I need to give MJ the questions I promised her.” Peter answers.

Harley simply shakes his head. “I say you take it next week, however, if it bothers you that much, after tomorrow you can go. I’m sure Tony can sort that out with your teacher. But you need to take at least a day off. And if the presentation stresses you out that much, I can cover for you.”

Peter should feel relieved but he doesn’t want to give up just yet. He’s done so much to make it through this week, he just wants to see it to the end. “Can we talk about this later?” Peter asks.

He’s down to his boxers and Harley has a full view of the bruises littered all over Peter’s body. Peter can see Harley is fighting the urge to say no, but instead, he simply nods his head and kisses his cheek. “Sure, just go get cleaned up.”

Peter agrees and makes his way to the bathtub. Nice that Harley probably figured Peter can’t stand long enough for a shower.

The water is warm and sends immediate relief throughout his whole body. Peter sinks into the tub and lets the water engulf him. He looks at his body and notices just how severe his injuries are. He should probably have Stephen check those out when he gets back.

After an incredible half hour in the tub, Peter finally gets out. He didn’t realize how much he truly needed that.

He changes into some light PJs and finds Harley by the kitchen island with a bowl of chicken soup.

Peter can't remember the last time he had an actual meal. Harley sat next to him as Peter slowly drank the soup. “So, what about tomorrow?” Harley asks.

Peter checks his phone and realizes it's 10:41 P.M. He had two options: he could either take tomorrow off, or he could suck it up.

“Would you mind helping me study?” He asks. Before Harley protests, Peter cuts him off. “I have my midterm first thing in the morning, after that I’ll have Happy take me home. That lets me give MJ the questions I owe her.” Peter didn’t go through the worst week of his life only to not see it till the end. He was stubborn like that.

Harley didn’t seem to like the idea, but he agreed nonetheless. When Peter finished his soup, they both headed to his room and Harley quizzed him on a few problems. Peter was feeling okay, his anxiety was just through the roof.

They both called it quits at around midnight. Harley crashed on the couch and Peter was out like a light.

He only had two days left. He was so close.

When the morning rolls around, Peter wishes he chose to stay home. He is groggy and tired, but still feeling the best he’s felt all week. He assumes Harley was already up and making him breakfast while he went to shower.

They had both agreed that Peter would skip patrol. He was in no condition to help anyone and would probably just hurt himself again, which isn't helpful to anyone.

To his surprise, however, his Dads were home. He walked into the living room to see Stephen making breakfast (no sign of Harley).

“Good morning,” Peter says as he goes to hug his Dad.

“Hey, Harley told us what happened. Just text us when your exam is over and we’ll come to get you. I also need to check your injuries, Peter.” Stephen said as he lightly tossed Peter’s hair and serves him a small stack of pancakes.

Peter silently hopes Harley didn’t mention the pills.

By the time Peter finished his breakfast, he wanted to vomit. He hadn’t stomached that much food all week and his body was trying to reject it. He holds it down as Tony pulls up to Peter’s school. “Text me the second you’re done. Promise?”

Peter sees the worry in Tony’s eyes and simply nods. He already feels guilty. He doesn’t need the reminder. (Looks like Tony understood that.)

As Peter gets to school, he immediately tracks down MJ. He hands her the questions, doesn’t wait for a thank you, and runs to the bathroom.

He can just feel vomit rising up his throat. His eyes are losing focus and he’s currently heaving over the toilet. “Maybe I should have stayed home,” Peter thinks as he stares into the mirror over the sink. His dark circles are getting worst and his skin is breaking out. He splashes some water on his face and quietly reminds himself that he’s almost done. “Just two more days.”

The bell rings and Peter heads off to his classroom. He’s taking his midterm first thing in the morning and right now, he’s fighting to stay upright.

Almost routine, Peter receives his test and flips it over. He knows he knows the material, he just has test anxiety. The studying he did with Harley definitely helps, so he’s confident he’ll do fine.

He ends up blanking out. He doesn’t remember much of the exam, nor many of the questions. However, he feels lighter, like a weight has been taken off his shoulder.

Peter ends up vomiting in the bathroom.

He’s heaving over the toilet and clinging on for dear life. His throat burns and the aftertaste of his breakfast is in his mouth, with a mixture of acid. He’s drenched in sweat and can’t see straight and he feels a migraine coming on.

Quickly, he texts Tony that he can pick him up. Peter gets off the floor and washes his face in the sink. His face is sickly pale and the lights are blinding him. Out of habit, Peter reaches for his pockets to get a pill, only to realize that he doesn’t have any.

That movement alone scares him.

He’s worried he’s feeling dependent.

When he leaves the bathroom, he quickly tracks down MJ in the library. “MJ, here are the questions I promised you. I’m so sorry they’re so late.” He profusely, but rapidly apologizes to her as he hands her the packet.

She doesn’t even look at them, instead places her hand on his shoulder and looks him in the eyes. “Pete, are you okay?” Just being forced to look at her is giving him a headache. The library lights are a blinding yellow and he can hear noise from the hallway.

“Yeah, just a little headache,” Peter says, but MJ still looks at him with worry. “MJ, I’m fine.” Peter doesn’t even believe in himself. He has that gazed look people have after they vomit their guts out and a small twitch in his eyes due to the lighting.

It seems like she doesn’t believe him either. Before she speaks, before she pities him, Peter runs to the office, knowing Tony will arrive any second.

As he waits in the office, he decides it's better to wait in the bathroom. The office had too many people talking, stapling, and filing. The office had too much noise.

That was the main thing he hated about his powers, his senses were heightened, making his migraines a hundred times worse. He’s on the brink of tears when the receptionist yells out his name to alert him that he’s leaving.

It seems that Tony notices so he doesn’t speak, simply thanks the staff, and ushers him into the car. Tony shuts off the radio and hands Peter a jacket in the backseat. Immediately, Peter covers his eyes and attempts to drift off to sleep. He’s just realizing how tired he is, mentally that is.

The ride home is a much needed break. He only has to get through tomorrow’s AcaDeca practice. (He’s not expecting to stay conscious during class).

When they do eventually arrive at the Tower, Peter can’t stand. His body has completely given out on him. Tony ends up carrying the boy inside and up the elevator to the medical compound.

“Okay, kid, you’re scaring the hell out of me. What happened?” Peter wakes up on one of the medical beds and is met with the horrible blinding lights in his face.

He’s too overwhelmed to talk and simply points to them, silently begging Tony to turn them off. He does, thankfully.

“I took on too much,” Peter says. “Everything just pilled up on the same week, and you guys weren’t there, and I don’t know how to say no..” The tears finally begin to spill as Peter talks. His head is killing him and his body is sworn and the voice in his head is nagging him even more. The look on Tony’s face says it all. Peter let him down, Peter disappointed him, and Peter worried him. “I’m sorry, I thought I could handle it.”

Tony doesn’t answer and simply steps aside as Stephen appears to tend to Peter’s medical needs. He doesn’t say anything, he just stands off to the side and looks at the ground. Peter can’t read his face, he can’t tell what's going on in his head. Is he angry? Upset? Not knowing is somewhat worse.

When Stephen finishes, he tells Peter that he’s simply dehydrated and only has a few bruises, nothing extreme. Seems like most of his injuries were healed due to his enhanced abilities.

No one says anything. They all look at each other and quietly leave for their own spaces. Peter can’t muster the courage to tell them what happened. Right now, he just wants the ground to swallow him whole. Peter makes it to his room, takes a much needed shower, and tries to sleep. He’s awakened, however, by Tony at his door with a plate of food.

“Oh, thanks but I’m not really-”

“I don’t want to hear it.” Tony coldly states and Peter shuts up. He hands Peter the plate and Peter realizes he isn’t leaving until Tony sees him clean the plate.

Reluctantly, Peter ate. His body needed to get used to consuming food on a regular schedule, not just every other day. When Peter finishes, he hands Tony the plate and apologies once again.

Tony doesn’t say anything, instead reaches over and kisses his forehead.

The next morning is a little better. Peter feels well-rested and his stomach isn’t doing flips. (He’s happy he kept his food down this time.)

He knows today his only task is to make it through the AcaDeca training (which would be easy, as he made the questions), and make it through his internship presentation. That alone takes the pressure off him, with a bonus that it’s Friday. Peter desperately needed the weekend.

He doesn’t even bother changing out of his pajama pants. He just throws on a hoodie and walks out the door. When he gets to school, it seems like MJ and Ned plotted to corner him. They both catch him in his usual corner and block any exits. “Pete, you gotta talk to us. Are you okay?” Ned starts out sweetly.

“Yeah, you look like a bus hit you on the way here,” said MJ. He laughs at her bluntness but assures them that everything is okay. (It’s not, but he thinks he’s getting better)

Today is just about staying awake- if he can even manage that. His migraine is still lingering and the school bells still hurt, but he thinks he’ll be okay.

Peter is proven wrong the minute he sits at his desk. Once he’s in his chair, his head is on the desk and he’s out cold. His body is catching up on the sleep he’s missed all week. No one bothers to wake him up, and if they did, Peter didn’t notice. Today marks the first day Peter slept in every class. Usually, he’d chug coffee to keep himself awake, but today he just couldn’t find the strength.

Every time the bells ring to switch classes, he’s violently jolted awake. Some teachers tried to check up on him, however, Peter still refuses any help and claims he’s okay.

When the final bell rings, Peter is beyond overjoyed. (No more loud bells in his ears.) He quickly makes his way to the auditorium for the AcaDeca training and throws himself into a chair.

Slowly, the rest of the team makes their way inside and immediately, “Parker, what the fuck is wrong with you?” Flash speaks up. And Peter can’t even be mad, he knows he looks awful. Flash saw him completely passed out in chemistry and history. Thankfully, MJ shuts him down and begins the training.

As MJ begins reading out questions to the team, Peter gets a text on his phone.

Harls: Hey, hope you’re feeling a bit better. The presentation got moved to 7 tonight, btw. Xx

3:56 P.M.

With a sigh of relief, Peter relaxes a bit and is able to focus on the training. While most of it was pretty easy, given that he made the questions, MJ threw in some surprise ones as well. The team discussed strategies and tactics, but Peter didn’t really listen. He patiently waited for the MJ to call the meeting to an end before he bolted out the door.

Tony was already outside the school. He’s patiently waiting in what appears to be Happy’s car. Peter hops in and just slumps into the seat. “Remind me to never take on any more responsibilities,” he says as he throws his bag into the backseat.

Tony laughs and replies, ‘Kid, you and I both know that you need to learn to say no. It’s about you taking on too much- well, partially that- but it’s also that you take on extra when you can easily say no.”

Peter thinks about that for a moment before responding, “Well, what am I supposed to do? I can’t just say no to someone in need.” By now, Tony is pulling onto the road as Peter leans his head against the window. “That’s true, just be mindful of those who need help and those who are taking advantage of you. Remember, put on your own oxygen mask before helping others.”

What Tony says rings true, and Peter sits with it for a bit. Maybe people are taking advantage of him. Or maybe he just took on too much. Right now, Peter is too exhausted to figure out which one applies to his current situation.

Eventually, Peter allows himself to close his eyes, finally allowing himself a moment of peace. (Sleeping on school desks is never comfortable, ignore if anyone tells you otherwise.) As he lays back against the seats, with the soothing hum of the car, Peter drifts off to sleep.

When they arrive at the Tower, Tony isn’t sure whether or not to wake Peter. It looks like he’s finally comfortable and finally resting. However, one quick glance at the clock and he knows Peter would be upset if he didn’t wake him up in time to review for his presentation. “Hey,” Tony starts gently shaking Peter, “We’re home. It’s 4:30 P.M. Figured you and Harley would want some time to prep for tonight, and maybe even have some dinner before.”

Peter musters up all the strength he was to get up and make his way out of the car. He thanks Tony and sluggishly drags himself to the lab. The bright lights from the Tower and the constant jostling are enough to wake him up a tad, but he’s still rather dazed.

As he enters the lab, Peter is met with Harley and his team all frantically reviewing. Harley is pointing at people and assigning roles as he catches a glimpse that Peter arrived. “-And you, get Peter a coffee, please!” The intern runs off and quickly returns with a cup of expresso for Peter.

“Alright, what do we need to go over,” Peter says as he takes a sip of his drink- and suddenly he feels much more awake. Harley begins running down everything they’ve covered. Who will be discussing the prompt, the robot, the calculations, and its real-world implications. “We just need someone to finalize the posters. Do you have the files, Peter?”

Peter nods, taking another sip of his expresso. (He can feel his entire body shaking.) “Yeah, I got them. Just to clarify, it’s one poster showing the rendered robot, another showing the entire crew, and one more for the overview and prompt?” Harley nods as Peter sets off to work in the corner. He and the team had agreed that he would begin the presentation and introduce their design, leaving the math to the other interns and Harley, who was far more awake and present. Peter quickly notices that he’s drank all of his expresso, and goes off to get more. His body is shaking and he feels dizzy, but he needs to stay awake. He just needs to make it through tonight.

Opening his computer, Peter finalizes all the posters and sends them down to the printing lab. He takes it as his excuse to get up and walk around, making sure his legs don’t fall asleep. He starts looking over all the reports, research, and calculations they did, and everything looks good. However, you can never be too sure.

Harley seems to be stressed out of his mind. “Okay, we start in an hour. Anything else we need to get done?” he frantically asks the group. After a series of ‘no’, Peter mentions that he’s going to pick up the posters and bring them up and that it should be the final thing they need. Harley lets out a sigh of relief and opts to join Peter as they both head downstairs.

The ride down the elevator is calming. Peter takes it as his chance to drop his head onto Harley’s shoulder. To this, Harley brings up his hand and begins playing with Peter’s hair. “I’m so tired..: Peter says, mumbling into his shoulders, The expresso is making him shake and he refuses to drink more, genuinely concerned for his health. “I know. You just need to do this one last thing, then you’re free.” Harley says as he places a light kiss on Peter’s head before they step put the elevator. Thankfully, the printing lab was empty. Both boys quickly gather the posters and then stand there for a moment.

“You know, I’m really sorry I snapped at you,” Harley says quietly. He’s looking down at the floor and won’t look up. “I was just so scared, I’m sorry if I made it worse.”

“No, no you didn’t.” Peter starts, “Yeah, it hurt, but I needed the reality check. I was so far in my own head that I didn’t realize what exactly I was doing. I didn’t consider how it’d affect me, or you…” Peter replies. They both look up and meet each others’ eyes. Peter notices the beginning of tears forming in Harley’s eyes and he makes his way over to catch them before they fall.

“I had a stumble. I’m…” and Peter wants to say that he’s okay, but he doesn’t want to lie anymore. He wants to fall over. He wants to cry. He wants to go to bed. “I’m getting help,” he concludes. Harley nods in approval of that statement and makes his way to kiss Peter’s foreahead. I’m just happy you’re okay,” He whispers.

Peter smiles and after a few seconds of enjoying each others embrace, they pull apart and begin to head back upstairs. By now, it’s 6:17 P.M., and Peter chooses to get a meal and a shower in before he presents. He is fighting to stay awake, as the espresso is wearing off and he can feel himself crashing soon.

After a quick warm shower, Peter finds himself a plate of food waiting for him at the table. Stephen is in the kitchen cleaning dishes when he noticies Peter. “Hey, I saved you a plate. Nervous?”

Peter immediately begins to scarf down the food. He feels slightly more refreshed after the shower, however the food finally makes him feel complete. His stomach is no longer growling and he’s not so light headed anymore. After a little small talk with Stephen, Peter feels a little more relaxed. They fall into a casual conversation, delicately avoiding the topic of Peter’s situation. He’s thankful, truly. He feels guilty enough and hearing about how it hurrt those around him just makes him feel worse.

By now, its 6:48 P.M. and Harley comes rushing into the kitchen. Without forming a coherent sentence, Peter understands what Harley is trying to say. “Robot. Present. Prep. Now.” Immediately, they both get up and begin bolting to the lab. In the distance, they hear Stephen wish them good luck.

The reason they were both so stressed was because of their reputations. It meant the expectations were even higher. These weren’t scientist that were just impressed because Peter was related to Tony Stark, these are people who couldn’t give less of a shit about Tony’s fame. However, they took it into account when setting the expectation.

When they make it to the lab, the other interns are also franctincally reviewing flash cards and pacing around the room. Peter luckily didn’t need to prepare for much, he just reviewed the outline of the introduction. Instead, he opted for drinking more espresso, trying to make it through the final push. His reward after this would be a long awaited nap.

As the scientist enter the room, Peter escapes into his safe space. If it was nay other day, he’d be fully present and in the moment, which might have caused an anxiety attack. However, Peter is just too tired to give a fuck. He disappears into his safe space and puts on his confident persona.

He goes trough the overview and introduction smoothly. Not really remembering where he is, just that he’s talking. Peter isn’t even present in the moment when the team begins to discuss the calcutioans and revisions they went through.

Peter only snaps back to reality when the board claps and congratulations them. Their faces ins’t giving anything away, he can;t tell if they’re disappointed or impressed. But honestly, he doesn’t care.

They end up finishing at 9:51 P.M. and Peter is beat. He can hardly stand up straight, and Harley is supporting his every step. When they finally making it to his bedroom, Peter dones;t even bother to get under the sheets. He falls onto his bed and the minute his head hits the mattress, he is out like a light.

Harley chuckles at the sight and draps a blanket over Peter, before kissing his forehead. Peter finally gets a break after, what he considers to be, the worst week of his life.

End.

Reposting the fic I posted here a few months ago. Wanna get into formatting more on tumblr!

[darlingkirstein]

eremika in any sort of romcom setting hehe

i think this is romcom-y enough??? idk it's a silly little meet cute in fantastically cheesy unrealistic scenario so i think it fits the romcom vibe Teehee🩷 hope you enjoy my pookie wookie vic <3

actor au / fluffy / rated e for everyone / 3.6k

Mikasa toils over the counter, sifting through the different orders — many have rather well-renowned names attached — to decide which ones to tackle first. Being a barista proves more difficult than she initially imagined. All she needed was a simple job to help pay the rent; the coffee shop being on a movie studio lot has been an added bonus, a chance to mingle with stars.

And by mingle, she means floundering interactions with the latest growing stars with their persnickety drink orders, some quick to complain at the smallest errors. Whenever she gets the opportunity to see someone whose likeness is stamped on a poster in her room, Mikasa mangles all attempts at compliments. Trying to praise their work only culminates in rosy cheeks and baffled looks shot back in return.

Exhaling, she gets to work, going through the orders in a procession ascending from least complicated to most tedious. Everyone seems to want extra toppings these days, extra pumps of artificial syrups that turn their 'coffee' into little more than an excessively-priced milkshake. Whatever gets them through the day, she supposes. Making a movie is tricky work.

Mikasa understands this. Sorta. Or at least, she's attempting to. The acting jobs haven't exactly been falling into her lap, though basic probability encourages her that at least one of these countless auditions have to turn into something. She's desperate for anything — at one of her past attempts, an audition for a medicine commercial, the casting agent giggled midway through her delivery of some poorly-written script. The best Mikasa's ever gotten was being an extra for an episode of a new television show — which was promptly cancelled after a first season.

She finishes an affogato and a raspberry danish for Marilyn Lawrence, lounging around on her lunch break from shooting Saturn's Divinity. It apparently takes too much effort to acknowledge Mikasa's calls of her name, too preoccupied by whatever's on her phone to pay much attention.

"Marilyn!" Mikasa repeats, nervous for yet another celebrity interaction. Lawrence only just won a BAFTA for her performance in This Holy House.

With a scoff, the actress strolls to the counter, barely mouthing a thanks before sulking back to a table, carrying all her actress-y things with.

It's hard not to feel like pond scum when the upper echelons of the acting world are hardly willing to spare her simple pleasantries, yet alone anything resembling kindness. Mikasa brushes it off, moving onto the next order.

She just gets started before Marilyn returns.

"This isn't gluten-free, is it?" The spiteful manner in which she asks has Mikasa stammering even before she attempts to answer her question.

"I, uh— I actually don't know. Let me check."

Flustered, she ducks down, foraging for a paper or manual that lists the ingredients. This is something Mikasa knows she should remember, but this job has squeezed out so much of her brain capacity that little else remains.

"You really don't remember?" Marilyn laughs, and Mikasa can hear her continued click-clacking on the phone keyboard, probably complaining to a friend. "You could've killed me, y'know. People have this little thing called celiac. It's important."

Mikasa suspects that Marilyn Lawrence does not have Celiac disease, but she isn't willing to invite even more wrath. "I'm sorry, ma'am, you're—"

"Whatever. Just figure it out and fix it."

When Mikasa falls quiet to continue her search, she expects the frustration to simmer; it doesn't, and Marilyn continues to berate her, though most of her comments are utterly nonsensical. Mikasa's manager is nowhere to be found, useless for getting her out of this less-than-lovely situation.

Her savior comes in the form of a grey-haired gentleman in a suit, bewildered as he bursts through the door, scanning everyone inside — until his gaze falls on Mikasa. He smiles, cell phone pressed tightly against his ear. Though she cannot pin down his name, Mikasa recognizes him as some movie producer, a real big shot.

"You there! Barista! Come with me."

Stunned, Mikasa points to her chest. "Me?"

Marilyn scoffs again. "Uh, hello? What about me?"

The man ignores the Hollywood A-lister, brushing past her to reach the counter. "Yes, you. We need you. I'll explain when we get there. Come on."

Head in a tizzy, Mikasa cocks her head — squinting her eyes, unsure that she isn't fast asleep in the clutches of a dream. What did some movie executive want with some barista?

"I— I think you have the wrong person."

"Jesus, there's no time for this." He turns to the side, muttering harsh words into the phone. "Yeah— I found someone. Just give us a second."

He turns his attention back to Mikasa.

"Are you gonna come with or not? We need you."

At this point, Marilyn has surpassed the angry-scolding-stage and lands in stunned silence. Mikasa still doesn't know what she's needed for, but angering a Hollywood exec is a surefire way to get blacklisted from any future opportunities. They don't want any dead weight in a cast.

"Uh, yeah— No, I'll— I'll go. I'll go."

Opportunities like this are so rare. Mikasa gets so consumed by this fleeting chance that angering her boss isn't even a concern she consciously entertains. As the executive's eyes burn a hole through her head, she feels hypnotized to untie her apron, tossing it aside. It's tempting to pinch her arm, still convinced of a REM-induced trick, but before she can ponder it, Mikasa is crossing the counter, calling her co-worker's name.

The coffee shop's manager finally appears, and as Mikasa is whisked away by the executive's firm grasp, his protests join Marilyn's, though both go utterly unanswered as Mikasa jumps onto a golf cart waiting outside the doors.

It's hard not to feel like Cinderella climbing onto that pumpkin carriage, ready for the ball.

Mikasa's heart races. She tries guessing what possibly awaits her at the end of this ride. Some secret meeting? An agent, excited to tell her that they've been monitoring her auditions and love what they see? All options feel like a pipe dream.

They arrive at an outdoor filming set, and Mikasa wonders over the absolute chaos going on, the cameramen adjusting their equipment, the mousy-haired director shouting commands through his microphone, guiding the team. She recognizes from the lovey-dovey set design that this must be for Before Affection Retires.

"Hey," the executive barks, snapping his fingers, breaking her free from her daze. "Go over to that trailer. Get in costume and then get back here."

Costume? Mikasa is dazed. She can't produce any discernible response, tumbling out of the cart, speedwalking toward the right trailer. She's never done something requiring a costume, only her plain-old, regular street clothes, blending in easily in the background. This is all new.

Before she knows it, Mikasa is donned in a pretty dress that stops just below her knees, its color somewhere between plum and maroon, the shoulders flowy and graceful. The makeup process was even more foreign — Mikasa's daily makeup routine is simplistic to the core, but the stylist here wanted her eyelashes to pop, seductive and primed for romance. A curling iron turns her hair into bouncy, bombshell waves.

She feels so unlike herself, but adrenaline sends her speeding back for the scene of the action, toward the director still barking out commands.

"You!" He cries, pointing. "Get over here! We're starting a shoot in five minutes. Get a script."

Mikasa wonders if every movie set is this hostile, or if everyone here is just having a bad day. One page from the script gets pressed against her chest, along with one order. "Memorize this."

But before she can begin, a frazzled assistant debriefs her on the whole debacle, leading her to the side and gesturing around wildly.

"You know what you're doing? Can you act?"

Mikasa blinks. "Uh, yeah? I can, yeah."

It's clear that answer doesn't instill a whole lot of confidence in the assistant, but regardless, there's apparently no time to waste on nonsense.

"Diana Baldwin is a no show. There's no time in the schedule to skip her scenes today. You'll be filling in for her for the kiss scene. Got all that?"

Diana Baldwin? That's who I'm filling in for?

There's no time to be starstruck. "Got it. Yup."

"Alright, good. You'll say the lines, and they'll do the ADR in post production. You're just a stand-in. That's it. Don't expect overnight fame, yeah?"

Mikasa nods fervently, still so confused. "No fame. That's— I'm no— Why am I here?"

The question comes out without thinking, but that thought hasn't left her mind since the coffee shop, never able to ask in the swirl of chaos.

"You look like her from the back. Same height, same build. The editors can work their magic."

She'll be little more than a green screen, but the thrill of being on a big movie set, stepping in for an actress she's long admired, is worth it.

"Where do I go? Do I— How much time?"

"Three minutes. Get studying."

Mikasa sends herself into a corner to study, scanning the swoonworthy dialogue for the upcoming scene. A big scene. Important, crucial as the romantic climax for a major Hollywood production, and it depends on her.

The words sink in slowly, as best as they can. The last thing Mikasa wants is to earn a director's ire by flubbing the script to a laughable degree. She prepares herself to be flirty, desirable.

"You! Get ready to shoot."

Mikasa scoots into the filming area, finding the mark on the grass guiding her position. As she assumes the position provided by the script, glancing absentmindedly toward the side, she catches glimpses of camera operators approaching, microphones getting closer.

"Action!"

As directed, Mikasa tilts her eyes upward — finally catching a view at her co-star. Damn near jeopardizing the sanctity of the shoot, she struggles hard to keep her jaw from dropping.

Eren Jaeger. A total heartthrob. Mikasa's harbored a subtle (not really) crush on him for the last few years, just when he began his ascent into Hollywood relevancy. She's seen most of his movies, praising multiple as her favorites. God, Mikasa knows she'll even watch the less-than-savory options, the ones without glowing reviews — independent films with tiny budgets and screenwriters that need fine tuning. She has his films ranked by her favorites, but even that is a difficult list to maintain. Though his social media presence isn't huge, Mikasa keeps up with him.

And now she gets to kiss him.

He wears an outfit so casually suave, a dress shirt with the sleeves rolled to the elbows, the first couple buttons undone for an alluring effect. His shoulder-length hair is something you'd seen on a 1990s teen pop culture magazine, harkening to the age of 'effortless' hairstyles, so swooshy. Mikasa chooses Eren over a young Leonardo DiCaprio any day of the week without hesitation.

The lines nearly slip from Mikasa's memory. She's supposed to be flirty with Eren Jaeger; now, her tasks feels all the more insurmountable to live up to, the standards raised to their highest level.

As Eren approaches, he grins. Mikasa has to remind herself that it's the character he's smiling so pretty at, not her. Some fake girl. Not her.

The tragedy of that causes her to almost miss her first line, but she pulls it together. "You came?"

"Obviously," he replies, laughing, his palms immediately cupping her cheeks. Mikasa's glad the camera isn't focused on her face — which has turned a humiliating shade of red. "You didn't think I'd really leave you behind, did you?"

Mikasa swallows. What was the line? She exhales, as propositioned, smiling, mustering up as much desperation in her tone as she can. "I don't know." This young actress has never been this nervous. "You seemed like you were in a pretty big hurry."

Here comes the most swoonworthy dialogue, the part that'll send Mikasa into cardiac arrest. Eren, or whatever his character's name is, draws her closer, their noses rubbing together. The cameras are almost intrusive now — just like they've always been in her screen tests, her daunting auditions, the technology recording her failure.

At Eren's advancing touches, Mikasa recalls another direction from the script — touch him. She nervously rests her shaky fingers on his waist, clutching his shirt. Eren Jaeger's shirt. His smell is intoxicating this close, subtle but unbelievably attractive. Potent. He continues.

"No. Never. C'mon, El. Can't leave you. You know I can't leave you. Don't give a damn about all that."

Without context, Mikasa has no idea what all that even means, but it's irrelevant. Eren has his hands grasping her face, ready to confess his deepest feelings. She swallows hard, clearing her throat.

"Don't make promises you can't keep. You'll wanna leave again. I can't keep you here."

Her delivery has a shakier quality to it than a professional actress might have, but Mikasa's just proud of herself for not melting to a puddle.

Eren, formidable in his role, just as strong as he looks on the silver screen, pushes her back until they've stumbled into the stone railing behind them — a totally improved move that catches Mikasa off guard, her breath hitching.

Before she can process anything, his lips are latched onto hers, hungrily, his character so desperate to prove his affections to this El girl. He tastes just as good as he has in Mikasa's most shameful dreams, the ones where she gets to do exactly what she's doing now, standing tall as Eren's co-star, the recipient of all his perfectly-acted kisses across an excessive number of takes.

Happy to indulge in this fantasy, Mikasa loses herself in the scene, determined to live up to the expectations placed onto her. She clutches onto Eren, brave enough to engage her mouth, providing her own energy to the kiss. Good God. I'm kissing Eren Jaeger. This is all real.

"Not going anywhere," Eren mewls, too convincing in his 'acting', slipping into this character with so little effort. His hands find Mikasa's thighs, squeezing as she's hoisted into his strong arms, legs with no destination but to wrap around his waist. "I need you. I need you."

Mikasa can't contain herself. Her poor heart is close to giving out, and her stomach flips and clenches and every tumultuous sensation between. She forgets this is a movie, on a set, surrounded by strangers watching them kiss.

One more line. "Stay here. Stay with me, please."

"I will, you goddamn, gorgeous idiot. I'm here."

They kiss longer — so much longer — until the immersion is decimated by the director calling cut, leaving Mikasa in the unfortunate reality where Eren swiftly drops her down to her feet. Through the megaphone, the director praises them — before asserting that they would return for a second, precautionary take.

"Hey," Eren starts, his regular, out-of-character tone somehow so different from his voice during shooting. He's more relaxed. Mikasa's used to this voice from all the interviews she's seen.

"Hi." She keeps her eyes averted, too flustered to even dare looking at him after that. He's famous. She's a nobody, wannabe actress that's stuck working a part-time throwaway job. Still, her awkward smile seems to endear her to him.

"Are you alright? I'm sorry for surprising you like that. Felt like it might help the scene." He sounds pleased with himself for concocting the idea. "I didn't hurt you or anything, did I?"

As if he couldn't get anymore perfect. He's a massive sweetheart, too, not some prima donna.

"No— not at all. It was— it was clever."

"You think so? I worried it might be too much."

She's unsure how to reassure him of the move's success without exposing her gigantic crush.

"I think the women watching will be happy."

Eren laughs and it's sublimely charming. "Well, then I'm happy with it. You're all hard to please."

Behind her back, Mikasa fidgets with her fingers, cracking her knuckles like crazy — anything to relieve the what-is-happening-right-now energy coursing through her bloodstream and incapable of exiting any of her brain's fixated thinking.

"Ah, well— I doubt you could disappoint them."

Instantly, she wants to slam her palm so hard into her forehead that it sends her flying. He doesn't need another weirdo fangirl. I've seen the comments on his Instagram. There's enough of those already. If he's annoyed, Eren conceals that frustration with ease, accepting the vote of confidence with a gracious simper.

"Thanks." He exhales deeply, finding his place beside her against the railing. "Are you an actress? How'd you get wrapped up in all this?"

Calling herself an actress in Eren's presence seems rather reductive of his talent. Mikasa shrugs, biting the inside of her cheeks. "Sorta? Not really. I'm— I'm trying to be, at least."

Eren smiles. "Have I seen anything you've done?"

He's much easier to talk to than someone like Marilyn Lawrence. He's more— more human.

"If you watched Avalon Harbor, you might've caught me in the background for a second. I think it was at 36:20, if you feel like double checking."

Pathetic as it sounds, her jokes makes Eren snort, and Mikasa considers that a win. "You know what, I'll have to give it a rewatch sometime."

A different production assistant brings them bottles of water while they wait to reconvene. There's a painful silence between them — a silence that Mikasa wishes to fill with a million questions about his acting, his roles, his journey from child clothes model to big screen cash cow.

Somehow, though, he's equally interested in her.

"So, Ms. Avalon Harbor, you didn't really answer my question. Where'd they find you?"

Mikasa sighs. Now he'll really know I'm a loser.

"The coffee shop down the street. I work there."

He laughs again. "I— I didn't expect that one."

Just as she's about to attempt another joke, anything to hear his pretty laugh again, the director cuts their conversation short, summoning the cast and crew back into position.

"It was nice to chat with you— Wait, what's your name? Just realized I have no idea."

She swallows, lump building in her throat. You're about to be on a first name basis. "Mikasa."

"Eren," he replies, a formality more than anything. "Maybe we'll get to work together again one day."

Don't get your hopes up, she tells herself. "I'm happy to just be in the audience, really."

He smiles as he backpedals back to his starting position, and that smile lingers on Mikasa's brain all the way until the director calls action.

Returning to her barista job after the previous day's events is harder than she anticipates. Getting a taste of a real actresses' life didn't quench that dream — it only thickened her thirst to be on more movie sets, to experience the thrill of producing something from nothing, to turn a script into a visual manifestation for audiences.

Kissing Eren Jaeger played a big part, obviously.

It's hard to keep her mind off their scenes while cleaning the counter during a lull in customers. Her eyes fixate onto the speckles hidden into the quartz countertop, utterly lost in a daydream, replaying the kiss in her head just like she's rewatched some of Eren's movies on repeat.

A gentle voice cuts through her folly.

"What do you recommend? I can't decide."

Startled, Mikasa gets ready to issue so many apologies for being so ditzy, so inattentive. The last thing she needs is a customer complaint.

When she catches the man's eyes, she's even more startled to see Eren standing there.

"Oh! It's you, I— I'm so sorry, I didn't—"

"No need to apologize. Did I scare you?"

Behind Eren, some customers look up from their coffees to gawk at him — the penalty that comes with achieving some stardom (and the unfortunate consequences of being blessed with unnaturally beautiful cheekbones).

Mikasa laughs, flustered. Her cheeks give away just how unprepared she is for this encounter.

"A little, yeah. Thought I was gonna get an earful."

"Nope. Just wanted to stop by and see you."

See me? It's too good to be true.

"Uh, you did?" Mikasa chides herself. This flirting isn't very good, considering that their tongues were practically wrapped together just yesterday.

Eren leans across the counter, gushing his voice to avoid any pesky eavesdropping.

"Sure did. You're a fun co-star. That's rare these days. Plus, you're a pretty good kisser, too."

Instantly, Mikasa's hand covers her face, the redness flushed across her features too much to bear — Eren Jaeger likes my kissing. Me.

Undisturbed by her inability to accept his compliments with any decorum, Eren continues, glancing quickly at the clock on the wall.

"Do you have a break coming up? I'm done for the day. Thought we could go for a walk. If you want."

It's starting to dawn on her how quickly her life has been rocketed off its predicted trajectory because of a resemblance to another actress.

Is he actually asking me out? She hasn't felt this giddy in— well, since his last movie came out.

"I'm off in ten minutes, actually. I'd— I'd love to."

"Great. Then it's settled. I'll take you on a tour."

A lackluster shift becomes the second-best she's ever worked, just trailing behind yesterday's. She smiles so brightly, hard enough to hurt her cheeks, straining the muscles that she usually saves for pretending to tolerate customers.

"Do you still want that recommendation? I can make something for you while you wait."

He grins, amused. "Oh no, I don't like coffee. Just needed something cute to get your attention."

Unwilling to let her get the last laugh, Eren sticks a bill into the tip jar and slinks off to one of the tables, smiling at her from hidden his hand.

Mikasa blushes.

He might be a good actor, but he's just as terrible at hiding a crush as I am.

— (Hope you enjoyed reading! It would be so fun to imagine how they'll spend their walk and how their little courtship would develop into a relationship 🩷 eremika wholesome moment was very fun to write after so much angst!)

[avaantares]

Guardian Bonus Bingo: Answer

Okay, I'm going to have to cheat a little on this. I do have an absolutely IDEAL scene for the @guardianbingo "Answer" fill, one that contains the exchange

"Does that answer your question, [name redacted]?"

"If I say no, will you repeat the answer?"

...but I realized I can't post it as a fill because it's the penultimate scene in the (very long) story I'm (hopefully) about to start posting, and as such it would be a spoiler. And since there are a few dozen chapters ahead of it -- most of which I still need to finish editing, and definitely won't have ready before the end of the amnesty period -- I can't just post the rest of the story early to fill the prompt. >.<

So since that can't go live just yet, and I doubt that two lines of dialogue out of context constitutes a bingo fill, I'm going to tackle a question that probably has no definitive answer (see what I did there?). It's one that has mystified me every time I've rewatched this series, and which (conveniently) I was prompted to ask again while pulling gifs from episode 3 for my last bingo fill. The question is:

"Why Do We Even HAVE That Library?"

(If you read that in Izma's voice, you get it.)

The SID has a library. We see it several times throughout the series. But we aren't sure why it has a library, because Zhu Hong straight up states that it's not functional:

...And looking at the books, it's clear that the SID library really is the collection of all time. What's the theme? By what criteria are books selected for inclusion? How are the books catalogued? Why are half of them upside-down on the shelves? Why are there a dozen duplicate copies of several titles? WHO KNOWS?

(Well, probably Sang Zan, eventually. But he's not here yet.)

To probe this mystery, I decided to zoom in and see what I could make of the books. And lo and behold, some of the books have legible titles!

Bottom shelf, left to right:

BLOOD RITE Dominique (not sure if that's an author or a subtitle)

CLASSICAL NOVEL (very original title, that)

Arletta (the Comic Sans nightmare that appears all over the place in various cover colors)

(indecipherable; I think it's both in Chinese and upside-down on the shelf, but it's out of focus)

the statue of liberty (style preserved)

LUXURY HOTELS

Read It Yourself With (last word cut off)

CENTURY

BLOODY HARVEST: The Killing of Falun Gong for Their Organs (I am actually surprised by this one; I had assumed this book was banned by the CCP, but there are multiple copies here)

CENTURY (upside-down this time!)

THE CATCHER IN THE (presumably RYE)

Next shelf:

The People's Lawyer

Unicist Organizational Cybernetics

JUSTICE OF THE PEACE (volume numbers obscured by Zhu Hong's hand; it's the book she's taking down)

Something with an approximation of the American flag and a bunch of languages on the spine

untitled

untitled

BLOOD RITE Dominique (same book as lower shelf)

OUYE Sofa + Furniture (this one's repeated all over the shelves, along with CENTURY and Arletta)

Basics of Modern Economic Management (translated title)

Corporate Finance (translated title)

the 10Ks of Personal Branding

GLOWIENKA

GLOWIENKA (but upside-down)

In addition to many duplicates of these books on other shelves, other titles visible on the wide angle pans include:

Anne of Green Gables (good to know this classic also exists on Haixing)

The American Journal of Medicine (we already suspected America existed on Haixing, given the flag stool in ZYL's apartment)

Imperial Crown

Charles Darwin: The Descent of Man (parallel evolution on Haixing? *rimshot*)

The Hotel Book

None of these titles seem particularly relevant to the SID's function -- except, perhaps, for the Justice of the Peace regulations, which Zhu Hong was actually looking for -- which makes me think there must either be a secret code of some kind, or the SID once raided an IKEA OUYE and took all their prop display books into evidence, and then someone at the SID later saw all the books and assumed it was a reference library.

A lot of the titles in this scene aren't really clear, but when I have time to pull up later episodes that have scenes dealing with the library specifically (Zhao Xinci visiting, et al.), it might be fun to grab some frames, enhance with the magic of Photoshop, and put them on my 4K display to see if I can find other interesting titles.

Also, I don't have time to go looking just now, but I'd bet the books in the library are duplicates of the ones in Shen Wei's apartment, which I seem to remember being pretty random. They recycled so much of the set dressing, I can't imagine there would be more than one collection of weird shelf-fill.

Zhao Yunlan's tastes, on the other hand, are a bit narrower. The most prominently-displayed book in his apartment is just titled Furniture.

[chloe-caulfield94]

Thoughts on Grahamfield?

Thank you for an interesting question. I'm going to split my answer into two parts - first my thoughts on Warren himself and then my thoughts on shipping him with Max.

I like Warren, if only for the fact that on two separate occasions he helped Max when she was in a tough spot.

The confrontation between Max and Nathan at the parking lot in Episode 1 could've easily turned out to be deadly. Most likely, Nathan was still armed. We know he didn't throw his gun away after running from the bathroom, because he had the exact same pistol on him in Episode 4. Which also goes to show he would go around campus armed.

So if Warren hadn't tackled Nathan to the ground, allowing Max to hop into Chloe's truck, it's very likely Nathan would've pulled his gun out to threaten Max with and then shot her, just like he had shot Chloe. Only this time there would be no one to rewind the murder.

The confrontation in Episode 4, in the boys' dorms, was even more likely to have a fatal result. We know for a fact that Nathan was armed. This time it was Chloe acting as a distraction, pushing Nathan away long enough for the cavalry, in the form of Warren, to come to the rescue. Had it not been for them, Max would've likely been murdered by Nathan.

I think it's interesting that on both of those occasions Warren acted in tandem with Chloe. I don't think that takes away from Warren's or Chloe's efforts. Helping others is not a zero-sum game, where only one person can get the credit. And I think it's only fitting that a kind person like Max, who cares about others, has other people coming to her aid when she in turn needs it.

I will always appreciate Warren for giving Nathan a well-deserved beating. Remember, the confrontation in the dorms takes place mere minutes after Max finds in Nathan's drawer the horrifying picture of unconscious Chloe, which Nathan kept as a revolting souvenir. At that point, neither Max nor the player (if you play for the first time) knows why Nathan went around drugging and kidnapping girls. So the implications of the picture were obvious and horrifying. When you heard Chloe and Kate tell about their encounters with Nathan for the first time, wasn't your takeaway that he attempted to date rape Chloe and date raped Kate? What other explanation there could be for a boy drugging girls unconscious and bringing them to a secluded location? And the revelation that Nathan "only" wanted to take pictures doesn't make his attempted kidnapping of Chloe any less fucked up. At that point he had already killed Rachel by overdosing her. So despite the crocodile tears he recorded in Max's voice mail, he didn't mind the possibility of overdosing yet another girl for the purposes of his "art". Why would he mind it? This time it wouldn't be his friend, just some "whore".

So I will always think kindly of Warren, if only for the fact that he gave Nathan a little bit of his own medicine. That the made Nathan feel just as powerless as Nathan did to his victims.

I guess you could say that Warren's fights with Nathan were motivated by his desire to impress Max (in the parking lot) and to avenge his wounded male pride (in the dorms). But I think it would be an extremely uncharitable interpretation. Even if the abovementioned emotions factored into his actions, that doesn't change the fact he did help Max on those occasions.

I always find it funny that the dynamic between Max, Warren and Brooke is a representation of the "high school boy is trying to win over the affection of a beautiful girl but is completely oblivious that a cute nerdy girl in glasses is totally into him". I love the fact that in this context it makes Max into the "popular girl". Honestly, the best case scenario would be Warren finally seeing the writing on the wall and realizing how lucky he is to have someone as cool as Brooke crushing on him. And for some reason he really has trouble realizing that. Even in the alternate timeline he's dating Stella. I ship Warren with Brooke, mainly for her sake. That girl is a go-getter. She set her mind on something and is reaching for it. That always warrants my respect.

A thing I like about Warren is that he can be a gracious loser and that's an increasingly rare talent. After Chloe texted him about Max kissing her, he texted Max saying: "Your friend Chloe txtd me that I'm out of the loop now. She sounds hot so I get why. Now I get why you didn't want to 'Go Ape' with me. You should go with Chloe". Seriously, he took that like a champ, on the chin.

Some fans consider Warren to be “creepy” or even “stalkerish”. The most convincing piece of evidence supporting this accusation is him waiting outside Max’s dorm at the beginning of Episode 2. If Max walks over to the window quickly enough, she can see Warren peeking from behind corner, looking at the dorm door, almost certainly in anticipation of Max walking out, to chat her up.

Honestly, I don’t think this is such a damning piece of evidence. Yeah, he wanted to invite her to the movies. Would it be any different if he sought her out during the day, at school? I also don't find his behaviour around Max in general to be inappropriate or creepy. Awkward, perhaps. We need to keep in mind that it's not like at that point he had been hounding Max for months, refusing to take no for an answer. At the beginning of Season 1, they had known each other for no longer than a month (Max had just moved back into town at the start of the school year and it was only October). Their interactions so far involved him borrowing Max his movie stash and them exchanging some text messages (well, at one point it devolved into him sending text messages and Max not responding). I really don't think that at that point him trying to ask her out is somehow inappropriate or pushing.

There's also the shrine in Warren's locker Max can find in her nightmare. In my mind the nightmare represents a twisted version of reality, shaped solely by Max's fears and doubts. The opposite of how Max truly feels and thinks. Just like we shouldn't believe the lies told about Chloe by "Other Max", I don't think that we should treat the shrine in Warren's locker as some revelation.

I think it needs to be said - an unrequited crush doesn't make you a creep. It seems that Warren has a genuine crush on Max (I hesitate to call it love, because in Season 1 they had known each other for a month and they hadn't even been on a single date yet). But even if you see Max didn't return his feelings (I sure see it that way, based on the totality of interactions between them), that doesn't make him a stalker or a creep. If you disregard BtS (where Rachel was equally as interested in pursuing Chloe romantically, if not more, as Chloe was interested in her) and only take into account Season 1, then it is clear that while Chloe was deeply in love with Rachel, Rachel only saw her as a friend. But it would be wrong and unfair to say that Chloe was a creep for being head over heels in love with her friend who didn't love her back. It would be wrong and unfair to say that Chloe's monthslong search for Rachel wasn't a proof of her genuine friendship, loyalty and commitment to Rachel, because she had unrequited love for her, which somehow tainted her motives. I think the same reasoning should apply to Warren.

Now let's move on to the ship itself. Having said all that, that I like Warren, that I don't think he's a creep and that I think his crush on Max was genuine, I see no way for Grahamfield to work, if we're sticking to the events of the game.

In the Bae ending, even if the love between Max and Chloe remained purely platonic (the last diary entry before the final choice is always, regardless of player choices, Max saying that Chloe is like family to her and that she's about to find out if what's between them is love or friendship - so let's consider a timeline where Max decides Chloe is like a sister, not like a girlfriend to her), then the Grahamfield ship still would have zero chances of ever floating, for the simple reason that one half of it is dead.

And in the Bay ending, I can't imagine Max ever ending up with Warren. Bay Max has just killed her best friend by pushing her back in front of a barrel of a gun. The friend whose last words were always that she loved Max ("I love you, Max. See you around" if you overdose her in Episode 4, "I'll always love you" if you sacrifice her in Episode 5, she always says that regardless of player choices). Max immediately seeking solace in the arms of a boy she barely knows, that she hasn't even been on a single date with, would be extremely out of character for her. And I don't think she would be interested in pursuing Warren at a later date. She would always have at the back of her mind that he's among the people she killed Chloe for. I think that would poison any chance at a relationship.

A few months ago I exchanged comments with another LiS player regarding the ending. They told me that they sacrificed Chloe, because they preferred Max to end up with Warren. Granted, they were more of a casual player - they admitted to not reading Max's diary, not even a little bit. But even if you disregard the diary and even if you interpret the relationship between Max and Chloe as purely platonic, at least from Max's side, I can't imagine Max ever thinking like that. Wouldn't that be a totally unhinged way of thinking? Sacrificing a life long best friend for a boy that you've met a month ago, that you haven't even been on a single date with? Who is basically a stranger that you know very little about?

In a timeline with no Storm or in which Warren survives the Storm, I can easily see him and Max becoming friends, if only for their shared taste in movies.

In a timeline with no Storm AND in which Max's feelings for Chloe are different from the ones she expresses in game (in her dialogues, internal monologues and diary entries) I can imagine Max and Warren going on dates. Whether that would result in a relationship or not is impossible to say, because we have never even seen them on a single date. Maybe they would immediately hit it off. Or maybe after fifteen minutes they would both be tired of each other. Who knows?

So back to the question of how I feel about Grahamfield - even though I don't ship that particular ship, it doesn't offend my sensibilities. The only ships that offend my sensibilities are those which pair up abusers with their victims, which is clearly not the case here. But I just don't see that ship happening if we stick by canon events. If we imagine some sort of alternate universe, divergent from canon in the ways I described above, then I guess that could work.

[sacredwrath]

P5. Breakfast

Past captivity + torture, panic attack, ptsd, confusion, angst, whumpee thinks caretakers are whumper (briefly)

Jesse watches their family eat. Jordan is the only person seemingly unaffected by the events of yesterday. The break neck speed of their story doesn't leave room for thought, much less interjection. Jesse is glad. Hearing about the new pine fort they’re building in the forest relaxes them, keeping them grounded in the moment.

“OH- and Jes, when your leg is better, you also have to see, there's a new nest! It's over by beaver creek! I couldn't tell if they were swallows for sure, but they looked like it. One has a blue head, and you can hear the babies from all the way down the path!”

“Wow!” Jesse tries. “How's the dam? Are the beavers still working on it?”

“Oh yes! They've made so much progress. I don't really know what a finished dam looks like, but it must be getting close now! I saw one of them…”

It feels strange to see life move on. To Jordan and the rest, to the beavers, life just kept moving. They feel strangely out of place, like a time traveler peering in at their own life, their past life.

Jordan chugs their apple juice, quiet for the first time the whole meal. They slam their cup down on the table and Jesse berates themself for their flinch, glancing quickly around to see if anyone noticed.

“Anyways, see you losers later! Bye Jesse, I have to show you my bow and arrow later, Jake helped me make it while you were gone.” They hop off their chair gathering up trinkets and shoving them in a bag.

“I can't wait!” Jesse smiles. They have to look away, tears springing unbidden to their eyes. They missed this, missed breakfast, missed Jordan and their wild adventures. “Hey Jordan” they call after the scurrying figure “can I have a hug”

“Of course!” Jordan sprints back to the table and tackles Jesse in a hug.

“Oof” they grunt, but squeeze back just as tightly.

Once they've left and only the adults are left, Jesse dabs at their eyes with a napkin, keeping their eyes on their plate. They aren't ready for the gentle questions, the concerned glances, having to explain. They can sense their family's curiosity, their concern, but aren't ready to face it.

Isa jumps in, expertly filling the silence with casual conversation. Drawing everyone in and carefully steering talk away from Jesse. They have never been more grateful for that particular kindness.

Jake talks about a new girl he met down in the city. They're getting coffee, again, on Saturday. The others tease him about the disastrous end of his last whirlwind romance. Jesse missed it.

Nora complains that Misha keeps sabotaging her tinctures. “You're the worst mentor!” She exclaims. “she keeps assigning me all these formulas, then changes the recipe halfway through.”

“Don't question my methods, young one. I'm teaching you medicine not how to follow a recipe.” Misha grins wickedly. Nora rolls her eyes.

“You see what I put up with every day.” she leans over as if for a kiss, but snaps at Mishas lip instead.

“ow! You animal!” Misha snaps, dragging her into a hug.

Jesse finds themself smiling, letting the normalcy wash over them. It feels so good to finally be home.

Without warning Jesse's throat starts to feel tight. They gasp, feeling hands close around their neck. Throwing themself back, away from the table, they topple their chair and land hard, jarring their leg. Panic floods them, their blood runs ice cold. They have to get away.

Hands reach for them and they scream, scrambling back, throwing up arms to protect their face even though they know it's pointless. Hands squeezing their throat, they claw at them, trying to rip them away.

Too many people,

Nowhere to go

Escape

Escape

Escape

Escape

They scramble away

Away from what?

They lash out at something, nails ripping through skin

Are they screaming?

Their back slams into a wall

They try and wedge themself behind something, try to hide

Their heart is beating too fast, pain ripping through their chest, and the hands are still crushing their throat

“Please-” They try to beg, but the word gets stuck

“Jesse” It's Isa's voice, calm and clear

They must be hallucinating. Isa can't be here.

“Jesse, it's me, Isa, can you hear me?”

Why is Isa here?

They can't breath, how did they catch her too?

The hands are so tight on their neck.

They're getting dizzy, but still trying to push Morgan back. They aren't strong enough, there's no point fighting. There never is.

He smothers them, arms encircling theirs, pinning them to their sides.

Thought slows, their head turning to mud

They feel every millimeter of skin against theirs burning in anticipation of pain

“please…” They whimper through numb lips. The most pointless word to ever exist, but against all experience the arms let go

It's Isa, stepping back from them

Confusion and hurt flash through them. Why is she her? Why is she the one hurting them?

Their visual field broadens and they see everyone else too. Their whole family arrayed in front of them

Slowly, reality oozes back into focus

Isa isn't there, back in their cell, they themself aren't there. Not anymore, they were rescued. Now they're here. They're home

Here and home

They take in the room, large windows letting in sunlight and a soft, cool breeze.

Wooden floors under them, the smell of breakfast still in the air.

They realize they're huddled in a ball under the breakfast bar, a fallen chair on onside and their friends panicked faces on the other

What just happened?

“Isa?” They ask.

She reaches for them, but stops before they make contact.

“Jes! Are you ok? What just happened?”

They breath a short, unconvincing laugh. “Don't know.” They struggle, “can you help me up?”

Isa is careful to touch them, and they suddenly feel embarrassed. They never wanted their friends to see them like this. Like they were with him

Averting their eyes, they mumble a thank you as Isa half carries them to the couch.

They still feel shaky, light-headed, and confused. Now that the panic is fading, they find they can't clearly remember what just happened.

“I'm sorry.” They try “I'm not sure what happened.”

“That's ok, it was probably a panic attack. Here,” Isa takes a glass of water from Jake and holds it out to them.

In still shaking hands, they take it, focusing hard not to spill. A few sips help them feel more present, but they can't stop their trembling

“Sorry-” They try again, not sure what else to say. A tidal wave of pent-up emotion building in their chest. They fight to keep it in. “Sorry- I don't- sorry”

“It's ok Jes, there's nothing to be sorry for.” Isa reaches for them again and they flinch, tears building in their eyes faster than they can blink them away.

“Sorry, it's not you-”

“I know, there's nothing to be sorry for. You've just been through- something terrible. We all understand-”

“You don't.” Jesse snaps, regretting it immediately. Heat rushes to their cheeks “I'm sorry-” they don't want to look up and see the hurt on their faces. They bury their face in their hands.

“You're right, we don't understand, but we'd like to, we want to help you.”

Jesse says nothing. No one should understand, but selfishly, they wish someone did.

The manage to regain control of the tears, shoving them back down.

“It's ok.” They try. “I'm ok now.” They force a smile. “Sorry you had to see that.”

Isa narrows their eyes at them in displeasure. “Jes we want to help you. Just tell us what you need.”

“I- right now, I just want to drop it ok? I can't…” They trail off

“Ok. It's dropped. For now.” Isa puts on a shaky smile. “But we're all here for you when you're ready.”

Jesse nods, wondering if they'll ever be ready.

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Tag list: @whumpacabra

[doyou000me]

Part 3: No Disappointment Without Expectations

“If I expect nothing, I won’t be disappointed.” 

This is not a quote from the book. Worded precisely like this, it might not be a quote from anywhere, but it’s a mentality and approach to life that I’ve encountered several times in different forms of media. It’s a coping mechanism, a way to ward yourself against a life and a world that keeps letting you down. It’s a wall built around a heart that has taken one blow too many. 

It is what Young does. He has learnt not to expect things, not to let things get too close, and the more we see of him, the more we learn about his life, the clearer it becomes. He has learnt to never expect his mother to see him, understand him, accept him or apologise to him. He has learnt to never expect anyone to stick around, because they all find their own lives without him in the end (which, naturally, becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy). He has learnt to never take things too seriously, to never take it to heart, to smile and laugh off even the most serious matters - because anything else would hurt too much. 

When he does expect things, when hope starts to creep forwards, he often doesn’t realise it until it’s too late to fight for it, too late to hold on to it, too late to do anything but withdraw behind the wall and put up a smile - because K3 dies, Jaehee gets married, and Gyu-ho leaves for Shanghai. K3 is an abrupt end, Jaehee a slow break up and Gyu-ho gets pushed away. 

It’s easier not to expect anything, because then he won’t be disappointed. 

It’s easier not to feel anything, because then he won’t get hurt. 

That is why, when Young finds out he is HIV positive, his coping mechanism is to normalise it to himself.

“But you know, what more is there to it? There’s medicine for it. I decided to pretend I was taking a vitamin every morning for the rest of my life.” 

I am writing this sitting between @stuffnonsenseandotherthings post about stigma, discrimination and lack of understanding in Korea and @wen-kexing-apologist post about HIV treatments that can afford people a largely normal life in spite of the disease. Reading the two posts back to back, a few things got caught in my brain that keep clanging against each other like loose pieces of metal.

There are treatments. There is help to get. You can live a normal, full life with HIV. Perhaps Young did not have to pass up on all those opportunities and a continued future with Gyu-ho at all. 

Young survives through avoidance. He doesn’t tackle anything too serious head on. Life has taught him not to, and so he applies the same coping mechanism to his diagnosis. 

The perception of HIV in Korea is bad. Really bad. Coupled with that, the general understanding and knowledge about the disease is very low. People simply do not know enough.  

Young’s experiences with healthcare have been terrible. We don’t get to see him interact with doctors regarding his HIV treatment, but we can assume that he is generally distrustful of healthcare professionals. 

All these pieces clanging together lead me to one question; Does Young know? 

Does he know about PrEP? Does he know that, should he take his meds correctly, the blood tests he keeps avoiding might not even pick up on the fact that he’s HIV positive? Does he talk with his doctors about these things? Does he research it online? Does he try to look for ways in which he can minimise “Kylie’s” affect on his life? 

Probably not. 

Why would he, when he’s simply “taking a vitamin every morning”? 

For me, that’s what makes part 3 almost as heavy and difficult to read as part 2 - because things don’t have to be so bad, but Young has learnt not to expect anything else, and so he doesn’t try to change things for the better. 

For me, that's also why part 3 and 4 are the most important parts of the book - because it's representation. Someone might read it and realise that the situation isn't as hopeless as they first thought. Someone might read it and realise that there's help to get, that there are alternatives. Someone might read it, and it could lead to them taking the steps to change their situation for the better. A whole lot of people might read it, and have their views of HIV challenged, and learn that the way people with HIV are treated is wrong, that things need to change.

For me, that's worth more than anything else in this book.

@lurkingshan tagging you for easier list-making on Sunday

[justkeeponsimming]

The next morning, Karma catches Mercy as she gets ready for school. The sick sister is feeling much better, ready to tackle the day. Mercy has her first chess club meet up and can’t wait to challenge herself with some decent chess games!

Karma: “How are you feeling, Meme?”

Mercy: “Better than ever! The Sim God made me take medicine after my nap.”

Karma: “I’m glad, but I actually meant emotionally. You inherited Mum’s alien empathy gene, but Justy and I didn’t. Plus, last night was heavy even though it was positive.”

To answer her sister’s question, Mercy throws her arms round Karma and hugs her close. The triplets surprised their caregiver, Serenity, with a bedroom makeover to show their appreciation for her. The air was thick with emotion, even though they were positive ones. Everything emotionally overwhelms Mercy, but she’s so grateful for her sister and sibling watching over her!

Mercy: “I’m fine. Really fine! Better than ever! I love you, Kar! You’re the best sister ever!”

Karma squeezes her sister back before they pull apart. They chat about school and what Mercy missed when she was home sick yesterday.