#ive decided to brave it and just tag all those every time

[gumjester]

The morning after.

[prettyboykatsuki]

foolishly. selfishly. | e. yeager 

➳ tags ;; lovesick!eren, pining (mutual but eren centric), childhood friends to lovers, sfw but suggestive towards the end, drinking and weedsmoking, college parties, male oc named haru who plays ex, eren being unbearable, feelings of resentment, yall both a lil dumb, not beta read, intoxication, ouid, eren is campus sweetheart lowkey, fem!reader

➳ wc ;; 3.9k 😃❓

➳  a/n ;; forgive me i think this is the first aot fic ive ever written so if the eren characterization isn’t ur thing.. ah. inspired by the song fools by troye sivan. also maybe part two for like.. actual smut LOL

➳ plot ;; eren yeager has been in love with you his whole life. when rumor comes your ex is gonna try and win you back for good, he decides to swallow his pride and finally tell you how he feels

“You’re down bad, Yeager,” 

On his 3rd beer of the night, Eren watches you sway your hips to another heavy-bass hip-hop song. He’s disgruntled to put it lightly, sneering with disdain as you dance and sway to the music. Ymir is behind you, and he can’t tell if that pisses him off more or less. 

Armin sighs, gently prying the latest bottle out of an already tipsy Erens hands, giving Jean a look who just snickers. 

“You should just confess already, ‘ren,”  ― Armin says sagely ― “It’s clearly bothering you,” 

Jean speaks again. Connie laughs too, ashing a blunt before handing it back to Jean. 

“When is it not bothering him,” 

Connie chokes on blunt smoke in the middle of laughing and Eren shoots him a dirty look, to which all Connie does is put his hands defensively. Eren can barely stay mad for that long, given the way he knows that everyone right. Even Jean, who’s a fucking dumbass. 

They’re right about how it’s always bothered him and about him down horrendously. 

Eren Yeager is... a lot of things. 

Stubborn, immature, childish. Among those things, he’s also brave. Lion-hearted. Not smart but strangely kind, always encouraging other people to be a little better. To do a little more with themselves and push past their boundaries. He’s not hypocrite either - more often than not he’s doing a dare or participating in something admittedly reckless. 

He approaches everything with the same shrug, a half smile on his mouth - tan skin and green eyes shining brilliantly. 

“What’s the worst that could happen?” 

It’s his thing at this point. Every video of him that’s gone a little viral on TikTok or on his schools twitter has him saying just that at the beginning. It’s ironic in it’s own right because... a lot of things could happen. He does some pretty stupid shit - like climbing to the top of the deans building or spray-painting cars during holidays

He’s stupidly charming to the point everyone around seems to so easily give up into his whims. He’s never even been suspended. He gets a little slap on the wrist and goes on to live his best life. He’s life of the party and for someone who is so unafraid of consequence - it makes you wonder..

Why the hell hasn’t he confessed his feelings for you? 

Eren Yeager thinks of you with even higher regards than the sun. You grew up with him, Armin, and Mikasa on a little street corner - only minutes away from each other. He’s retold the story in his head a million times - you knocked on his door nervously with a plate of cookies and he’d been in love with you ever since. 

He can’t remember a time in his life where you weren’t directly influencing him. His parents were ecstatic when he went into highschool with a 4.0 but he only did it because he wanted to follow you into university - as bad as that sounds.

It’d be an understatement to say that he’s.. a little bit in love with you. The two of you are attached to each others hips but a lot of it is Eren absolutely hovering over your every move. Overprotective, overbearing, generally a little unbearable. Everyone around seems appalled by it when they see it but you brush him off so easily, a little shrug and uninterested glance. It’s probably something only you could do.

Armin swears that’s why he even fell for you even harder for you. You seem to look at everything in the world with affection with him as the exception. With everyone else, you’re so.. friendly? Once you’re comfortable - you’re nurturing, kind. The amount of times people have assumed you and Armin were an item just because you were so sweet on him is honestly embarrassing

But that’s just how you are with everyone. With Mikasa, Jean, Connie, Sasha, Historia, Ymir, Reiner... everyone. Everyone he can think of except Eren Yeager. 

There was a point you also acted like that with him, actually even more than before - but as Eren’s feelings for you grew, his ability to handle your affection only dwindled. You got in a fight over it during your sophomore year of high school and you told him you’d stop if it made him uncomfortable. Eren, because he’s not very bright, agreed because he wasn’t ready to confess just yet. 

And.. in terms of how longing goes, the lack of affection only seemed to make him want it more. You and Eren are still close but just.. best friends close. And Eren wants to be a lot more than best friends close with you. Despite the very small drift in your relationship - he’s still the same old bratty Eren Yeager. 

For example, he’s hated every single boy you’ve ever dated in your entire life. Every time a new boyfriend has entered the arena, everyone jokes that before they worry about meeting your parents, they should worry about meeting him. You’ve dated some worthy men in your life, an entire Neuroscience major when you were a sophomore, an athlete, a graduate student. Eren hated all of them, since who could be better for you than him?

Despite his constant protest and disdain for them (which you’ve promptly ignored), your relationship with the Neuroscience major lasted almost an entire year. Eren was insistent with his pestering about it but you weren’t swayed. The reason you broke up is still unclear to him but he didn’t care either.

You never seem particularly heart-broken by any of these break-ups. Historia likes to call you stone cold but you sigh and shrug. They’re good but none of them have been “the one” is what you always say

Eren is just happy you’re single now - after about a year of dating, you’ve come to this party to celebrate with your friends about being free of a relationship and you seem happy. Ymir has her fingers on your hips a little bit more than necessary and a hand on your throat when you lean back to dance. You don’t seem to mind, smiling with all of your teeth as you throw your head back, tipsy. 

The way Eren watches you while you dance is telling. Love-sick like cupid himself has shot an arrow through his heart.  Everyone knows. Every single person on this campus, every friend, all of your parents combined. Everyone knows this shit but you. 

He’s made it his lifes mission to evade this information from your pure, unknowing ears. It’s the one time Eren simply can’t find it in himself to brave. You present to him the one thing he never really faces… consequence.

The reasoning is admittedly unclear on his end about why he hasn’t just said fuck it and confessed. He’s said a number of things about it. He’s not ready, what if you don’t like him back and you never speak to him again, what if you’re upset with him. All of these are valid concerns to the blind-eyed and to the outsider. 

But his friends, Armin and Mikasa namely, know much better than his bullshit. He’s ready he’s just terrified. Mikasa has never heard you say it explicitly, but call it intuition that she knows you like Eren back. She told one time in middle school that she liked Eren, but she’s well and over that. She’s literally dating a girl from her Anthro class You won’t listen to her no matter what she says but, she knows that you like Eren. She knows in the way your eyes flutter when he’s around - how your hands reach from him so briefly but the retract from touching him like you’ve agreed on. She can just tell.

They, more than anyone, find this clown show miserable to watch. Armin is too tired to care and Mikasa isn’t really sure how to approach so they do their best from a distance. Armin finds himself placing a hand on Erens shoulder to which Eren slumps forward. Jean sighs at his sorry state. 

“C’mon Yeager, how bad could it really be? It’s Y/N... they’re like the nicest person ever,” 

Connie gives Jean a look before laughing, rolling his neck a little. 

“Yeah to everyone except Yeager,” Connie comments unhelpfully. Eren gives him a little glare, elbows on his knees as he holds his face in his palms. He finds himself folded over a little, palm on cheek as he stares at you. 

He can’t even be mad at him… it’s true. 

“Why is that, though?” ―  Sasha asks, face deep in a bag of Doritos ― “Aren’t you guys childhood friends? Shouldn’t you be like... super close? Armin and Y/N are super close?” 

Eren groans again as Armin sighs. 

“They got into a fight sophomore year and Eren is overbearing,” 

“Am not,” 

“Yes, you are, Eren,” Mikasa adds after a long while. Eren gives her a pleading look but she refuses to cut him any slack. Sasha nods like it makes sense and Eren is even more upset by that.

“Well, Yeager - if you never confess, maybe I’ll have to slide on over and - “ 

Eren’s eyes go hard, brow bone furrowing, eyes losing all of their light. 

“I’ll beat the shit out of you if you get near ‘er,” he spits.

Connie doubles over in laughter. 

“Well, I’ll be damned,” ― Connie comments, relaxing into his seat ― “But if that’s how you really feel - pretty sure ol’ dude is gonna come back to tryna win her back,” 

“Haru is coming here? Seriously?” Armin asks, seemingly perplexed. They have classes in the same building and it was almost a given that he never went out to any parties. He studies his ass off and rarely ever made time to do anything but see you. 

“Who the hell is that?” 

“Seriously, Eren - you didn’t even learn the dudes name?” Jean asks. Eren squints. 

“Haru is her ex-boyfriend,” Mikasa answers. Eren stiffens immediately but Connie pretends not to notice, looking at Armin. 

“Yessir. Caught him on campus yesterday, he looked disheveled. Said he was gonna try and get back with her. Gave me a whole speech about her and I had to sit there and pretend like I cared..” Connie says with a yawn. Jean breaks out into a fit of laughs as Armin quickly catches on to Connies scheme. 

“Seriously? He’s not very talkative,” 

Connie nods and takes a hit of the blunt, blowing it out before continuing. 

“Yeah. Apparently, he’s really serious about her. Bought an engagement ring and everything,” 

Mikasa cuts in this time, knowing but wanting real confirmation as she stares at Connie. 

“Seriously?” 

Connie nods, honest and relaxed.

“Seriously,” 

Eren sits for a long while processing what Connie has said. His heart might fall of his ass, the way it drops into his stomach.

“Damn… they were only together like a year and he deadass wants to propose? Y/N’s must be something special,” Jean hums. Connie nods.

“Shit, they’ve had Yeager in a trance for damn near 15 years. Gotta be some kinda hex,”

Eren, decidedly, doesn’t hear the rest of the conversation. Instead, he stands up on his feet and stares at you for a while as his friends go quiet.

“Damn,” ― Connie chuckles ― “Did we break him?”

“I’ll be… right back,” Eren says absently, immediately heading towards you. Mikasa almost goes to chase him but Armin keeps her at bay.

“Yeah,” ― Jean sighs, chuckling ― “Definitely broke him,”

—

Eren finds you grinding slow to Brent Faiyaz song with Ymir. Your clothes are much tighter than he’s used too - they show off your figure so much it almost makes him angry but he swallows it down anyway.

“Hey,” ― he says, voice low as Ymir gives him a side eye ― “Could I talk to you real quick?”

You pause your movements, stumbling a little. You smell like perfume and cognac, but you smile anyways as you give him a once over. You brush your hands down your pants.

“Uh.. sure. Did you need something?”

He nods, hands in his pockets. Ymir steps always like she knows something, and maybe she does. She always seems to.

“Yeah.. just for a bit. Sorry to interrupt,”

You shake your head, waving him off as you lean over to give Ymir a kiss on the cheek. Eren swallows the jealousy in his mouth.

“Thanks for dancing with me tonight,” you tell her. She gives you a shrug.

“Thanks for dancing with me baby, take care,”

Before you get in a good wave, Eren decides hearing Ymir call you baby is enough to put him in an early grave and drags you away to the balcony before anything more can happen.

Once you’re out there - view of the whole campus and then some sits beneath you. You’re too busy shaking off Erens rough hands to really notice it, frowning.

“You’re too rough, ‘ren,” you say with a sigh. He almost goes to reach for it but he stops himself.

“Sorry,”

You shake your head

“.. ‘s fine,” ― you tell him, a soft yawn leaving your lips ― “What’s up,”

He stares at you for a long time. He knows that he has to tell you now. That even if it’s unlikely you’ll say yes, you could and then he’ll really lose out.

But he has to know first. He stops and waits, turning to look at you with his hands in his pockets.

“Why.. did you break up with your ex-boyfriend..?”

You seem taken aback by the question. For good reason, since Eren never really takes interest in your love life for anything other than the fact you’re single. Your eyes widen before softening. You go from staring him to the staring at the floor.

“… Why do you wanna know,” ― you say, crossing your arms over your chest uncomfortably ― “That’s unlike you,”

He takes in a sharp breath.

“I’m.. I just wanna know why. You two dated for a year. What happened?”

You feel something bitter inside of you. Something unrequited, a relationship demarcated by distance and unspoken feelings. Memories of Eren’s outburst, of fights about boyfriends and butting heads. It comes rushing back all at once. You grit your teeth.

“I don’t feel like telling you,” you reply, simple and straight-forward. You know that he won’t drop it but you just don’t think you can get in an all of this today. He looks at you like he’s offended by something you’ve done but you hold your ground, crossing your arms under your chest uncomfortably. 

“Why not?” 

You’re a little too tipsy to figure out a good lie, and you’re already exasperated with his attitude. You’re used to Eren being overbearing but it’s too much for him to do this. 

“Because I don’t feel like it and it’s really none of your business,” 

“How’s it not my business?” 

You glare at him. 

“How the hell is it your business?” 

He scoffs at you. 

“I’m your best friend, obviously it’s my business” 

It feels so bitter in your mouth, coppery like the taste of blood when you think of why. When the reason is standing right in front of you with that hardened glare on his brow and that arrogant fucking attitude you have a love-hate relationship. When the reason you broke up is asking you about it even though he’s never cared before. It makes you so angry, these feelings you can’t tell each other. 

“It doesn’t matter if you’re my best friend, you’ve never cared before and I don’t know why you decided to now,” ― you say, hands trembling, turning on your heel to leave ― “But I don’t want to talk about it. I’m going back inside,” 

You try to leave but Eren has you by the wrist, and he’s so much stronger than you that when you spin around to face him, chest to chest, you leave a little gasp. And he’s looking down at you with fire in his eyes, jaw feather with something sinful. He has you pressed to his chest and the contact overwhelms you. He smells so nice and he’s so strong and it’s making you dizzy. 

“Eren,” ― it comes out weaker than you intend, pushing him with your hand on his chest ― “S-stop. I know you don’t like when I touch you but I’m not budging on this,” 

For whatever reason, your words seem to make him angrier. More desperate but he lets go and you stumble. You look at him just to make sure he’s okay, watching as he pinches the bridge of his nose. 

“Connie..he said he saw your ex on campus,” ― and he swallows something in his throat. It’s the first your hearing of it so you listen ― “Said.. said that your ex was comin’ here tonight. Said that he was serious about you,” 

Your eyes go wide. It’s the most Erens ever cared to know about your relationships. 

“That he.. bought you a ring. He’s coming here tonight to win you back,” He explains. You soften a little at the thought. 

“...He is?” 

Eren runs a hand through his hair, so frustrated he doesn’t know what to do with himself. He stares at you. 

“Are you serious about him? Haru, if he comes here tonight.. are you gonna get back with him?” 

You raise your brow at him. He doesn’t seem angry anymore just desperate. Almost sad. You scratch your arm, uncomfortably. 

“Haru is a good guy, Eren,” 

“Answer my question,” 

“Eren,” you repeat. He looks at you, strained. 

“Please.. just.. answer me. Please,” 

You don’t know how to feel but you know you hate the sound of his voice this upset. You shake your head, messing with something in your pockets. 

“I dunno,’ren. Maybe. We broke up because I just don’t think we were on the same page, but he’s a good guy,” 

Eren takes a step towards and your heart races. You wonder what Auntie fed him to make him grow like this broad and tall and athletic. You blink at him as he looks down at you. A little gasp leaving your lips as he places a hand on your face. Your heart pounds. 

“What are you -” 

“Don’t say maybe,” he interjects, running his thumb under your eye. 

“Eren -”

“Wh-what are you doing, ‘ren? How drunk are you?” 

“Don’t get back together with whatever his name is,”

“Haru,” 

“Don’t get back with him. 

You want to say something. There are so many questions but they remain lodged in your throat, somehwere beyond your reach. You cough a little and his hand is still on your cheek and he’s so close you don’t know what do

“Why not?” you ask finally. 

“Because,” he replies childishly. You frown at him, but there’s nothing harsh about it. No matter how he acts, you always find him endearing. 

“Because what, Eren?” 

“Because..” ― he stops, and closes his eyes, and drops his forehead on yours, arms wrapping around your waist like this is even close to normal ― “Because... it should me your with,” 

It feels like the whole world comes to a halt. 

“What?” ― you gasp ― “What did you just say?”

He swallows. 

“It should be me. Shoulda always been me,” 

“Eren, slow down. What are you even saying?” 

“I’m saying I’m in love with you. And that you shouldn’t get together with that fucking  -” 

“His name is Haru,” 

“Didn’t ask,” he replies shortly. It’s like his words don’t reach you, too foreign. 

“You’re...?” ― you push him back, you try too but he’s so strong so he keeps you right where you are ―”You’re in love with me?”

“Always have been,” 

You shake your head like you’re in some kind of dream, pinching yourself to see if you’ll wake up. It feels too real, his voice and his breath like mint and beer and his green eyes and pretty long hair - all of it is too much. 

“But then.. during sophmore year,” 

“‘s when I realized,”― he explains, voice softer than you’ve ever heard ― “I was too nervous to tell you that when you touched me I thought I was gonna die,” 

That makes you laugh and your laugh makes him smile. You settle back down, still lost but he’s so comforting. Your hands end up on his chest and you look at him. 

“Been in love with you since we were kids. It was always you and it’ll always be you. I was too scared to tell you but I can’t... can’t let you go like that. I can’t stand it,”

You fidget, dropping your head.

“We uhm.. the reason I always break up with people is ‘cause I was trying to get over you. I didn’t think I..had any chance especially since I thought Mikasa liked you,”

Eren’s eyes widen,a grin breaking out onto his face as he hugs you so hard you yelp. 

“Fuck, you’re so cute,” 

You let out a little whine but you melt anways because of course you do. 

You stay like that for a while. The music blaring, the night going cold - all of it fades into background noise as you sheepishly hold each other. And Eren will squeeze you tight like he’s trying to remember you’re still real. 

You pull back, just to look at each other but neither  of you can hold your smiles in. You break out into giggles together. 

“We’re both stupid, huh?”

“Always have been,”

Your smile settles in your cheeks and it’s too much. But you let him hold you and he seems starved for it. 

“Missed touching you,”

You scrunch your nose up.

“That’s dirty, Yeager”

His eyes widen, shaking his head. 

“That’s not what I fucking meant -” 

“Later,” ― you hum, a little sleepy ― “You can touch me all you want when we get to my dorm,”

His eyes widen and he prays to ever god he can think of that he survives long enough to see heaven like you’ve promised. He swallows. 

“R-right. Right,”

You chuckles before leaning up on your tippy-toes. 

“For now though.. think it’d nice if you kissed me,”

He lets out a shaky breath.

“Fuck.. Can I?” 

You nod. 

“Please do,”

And he does, leans down with his hand cradling your neck to kiss you as hard as he can. It’s gentle but messy and needy. Hot mouth pressed against yours, hands moving down to hold and touch you wherever he can. All you can think to yourself is that you’ve never felt it like this before, the electricity running through your whole body. From the tips of your fingers to your toes, you grab his shirt like you can’t get enough. Maybe you can’t. 

You kiss for so long and only pull away when you remember you’re supposed to breathe. Lips swollen and his face covered in gloss. 

“H-how soon can we get to your dorms?”

You giggle. 

“You’re down bad, Yeager,” 

He laughs too. 

He figures he can’t really deny it now. 

You hold onto his arm. 

“But we can skip the rest of the night, right now,” ― you say flush ― “If you want,” 

“Yeah... yeah I want that,”

[bittysvalentines]

Careful Fear and Dead Devotion

To: @happyzimm

From: @doggernaut /RabbitRunnah

Rating: T, for mentions of alcohol.

Relationship: Jack Zimmermann/Eric Bittle

Characters: Jack Zimmermann, Eric Bittle, Bad Bob Zimmermann, Kent Parson, original child character

Tags: Jack Zimmermann, Zimbits, Jack Zimmermann character study

Happy Valentine’s Day, @happyzimm! I hope you enjoy this little Jack Zimmermann character study. I tried to incorporate some of the other things you asked for as well.

i.

Jack Zimmermann is five years old, and his feet don’t touch the ground.

He’s sitting in a hard, plastic chair at a table for two while Papa waits in line to order doughnuts. There are two Papas in this doughnut shop — the one standing in line, and the one on the poster behind the counter.

The Papa in line is wearing his home clothes: jeans, a t-shirt, running shoes. The Papa on the wall is wearing work clothes — his Pens jersey but not his helmet — and holding a doughnut decorated with black and yellow sprinkles.

Even though the real Papa’s back is turned to him, it feels like he’s watching Jack.

When Maman takes him to get doughnuts after his swim lesson she always takes him to the shop across the street from the rec center, the one with yellow tables and the smiling man behind the counter who always hands Jack his chocolate old-fashioned doughnut and cinnamon sugar doughnut hole before he orders. The one that does not have a picture of Papa on the wall.

But Maman is working in California — Jack has never been to California, but he knows it’s a place people go to work, because Papa goes there too — so Papa had to take Jack to his swim lesson today. Papa doesn’t know Maman always takes Jack to the other doughnut shop, and when he told Papa this is the wrong one it was too late. They were already here.

The boy behind the counter is much younger than the man who works at the other doughnut shop. He must be friends with Papa because he greets him by name and talks to him longer than he talked to the other people in line. Papa knows a lot of people.

“Told you that wouldn’t take long, Jacky.” Papa sets a sprinkle doughnut with white icing on a paper napkin in front of Jack and opens his chocolate milk for him.

Jack frowns and picks at the black and yellow sprinkles on the doughnut. He doesn’t like the colors, or the way they feel in his teeth when he chews them.

“What’s wrong?” Papa asks. “Not hungry?”

Jack is hungry. He’s always hungry after his swim lesson. He picks off a teeny tiny piece of doughnut — a part that isn’t touching white icing or colored sprinkles — and sticks it in his mouth. He eats the entire cake part of the doughnut this way while Papa eats his maple bar and an apple fritter. When he’s finished, all that’s left is a ring of sticky icing and sprinkles.

“All finished?” Papa asks when he notices Jack is no longer eating. “Do you want another?”

Jack thinks. It would be rude to ask for another doughnut, but Papa is offering. “Can I have chocolate?” he asks.

“Hey, Paulie!” Papa’s voice is loud in the mostly-empty shop as he waves to get the attention of the guy behind the counter. “Can I get a chocolate doughnut for my boy?”

Paulie comes around to their table and hands the doughnut to Jack. Jack whispers a “thank you” as Papa hands Paulie some money and tells him to “keep the change.” He winks and smiles, and it’s the same smile as the Papa on the poster behind the counter.

Jack takes a bite of the new doughnut and chews. The chocolate is rich and sweet. He takes another bite and swings his legs as Papa smiles at him.

ii.

Jack is 18, and he is so close to having it all.

“Drink up!”

The bottle Kent presses into Jack’s hand is cold and smooth except for the label, damp and wrinkled from condensation. Jack doesn’t like these parties and he doesn’t like the taste of alcohol. It burns on the way down and tastes like spite, a bitter, caustic thing that burns inside of him whenever Papa offhandedly remarks that Kent just might go first. Jack doesn’t like the way that feels, or the way he feels for feeling that way. But he likes the way he feels after a few beers, the way it makes him loose and brave. Kent says it makes him more fun. So Jack takes a pull of his beer and grimaces, quickly twisting his mouth into a smile when he catches Kent glancing his way.

One beer makes Jack loose enough that his smile comes more easily.

Two beers and the world starts to shimmer around the edges, suffusing everything with a nice haze that makes him feel buoyant and bold. When he’s on the ice he feels loose and free, not heavy and grounded the way he feels as soon as he removes his skates. On the ice he does the right things and the words come easily; people smile and cheer his name. Two beers in and Jack feels closer to the way he feels on the ice, his ever-present anxiety and self-consciousness fading into something palatable.

Three beers is the magic number. He can laugh at jokes made at his expense about that shot he missed and flirt with the girls who somehow always know where the team is partying. With three beers in him, Jack’s hand can find Kent’s in the dark and he doesn’t worry that he’s not really this brave. He doesn’t worry about any of it.

“Zimms! There’s girls here!” Rusty, yelling from the other side of the room, is anything but subtle. Though these girls, with their loud, exaggerated laughter, don’t seem like they value subtlety anyway. One of them catches his eye, a small blonde who doesn’t look away when Jack catches her staring.

Jack runs his thumb back and forth over the smooth label, wearing away a patch in the center. Bits of paper bead up and cling to it, turn gritty under his thumb. When he tries to brush them away they just stick to him.

“Awww, is Zimms gonna score again? Score on the ice, score off the ice, is that how it works?”

“Shut up.” Jack elbows Kent.

“Make me.”

Jack swallows hard, suddenly remembering exactly what he did to make Kent shut up last night, and the night before. He can’t do this right now. He shouldn’t do this ever. The one thing that matters, the only thing that matters, according to Jack’s father, is THE DRAFT.

That’s how he thinks of it, in all caps.

Tonight when Jack counted out his pills, there were seven missing. He doesn’t know how it happened. He’s good with numbers, at knowing the score at all times. He remembers the shots he made and the shots he missed, keeps a running tally in his head. He memorizes stats. Not just his, but those of every first round draft pick of the last five years, and those of every guy who has even been mentioned as a first round pick this year. He is constantly calculating his odds.

Jack is good with numbers. How has he lost track of the pills he’s taken?

Somebody pries the beer bottle, now warm, from Jack’s hand and replaces it with a new one. Jack didn’t even realize he’d finished the first. Jack takes another drink.

He is so close to having it all, and he is so close to losing it all.

*****

iii

Jack is 24, and when he swiftly pays for Bittle’s coffee, telling his teammate he’s “good for it,” he realizes he is. It’s not just that he can afford it because he’s about to sign an NHL contract. It’s also because Bittle is his friend, and Jack enjoys doing nice things for his friends.

Somehow, and Jack still cannot explain how though he suspects it has a bit to do with Bittle’s own grit and generosity, Bittle has become one of Jack’s best friends.

Checking practice, a morning workout that it turns out they both needed, isn’t really necessary anymore. These days, the early ice time with Bittle is just an excuse for an extra workout. Sometimes they even goof off more than they practice, a concept Jack would have found sacrilegious a year ago. They race each other around the rink, skating faster and faster until their breath comes in aching gasps. Or Bittle will pull out a jump, tentative and imprecise. “I know it’s not impressive,” Bittle says self-deprecatingly, “but just imagine if I had my figure skates.”

Bittle is wrong. Jack is very impressed. Somehow those words catch in his throat when he tries to voice them so he just nods.

Afterward, they get coffee. Jack drinks his black and bitter. “Like your soul,” Bittle once joked. Jack used to think that was true, but now he thinks that maybe he’s softened. More and more, he feels the way Bittle’s milky latte looks: lighter, cooler, sweeter.

Jack takes a sip of Bittle’s latte by accident and ... it’s not unpleasant. There’s an underlying smoky sweetness Jack’s own black coffee is missing, a richness that makes him yearn for a second sip before he hands it back. It’s not the worst thing.

“Good?” Bittle asks, eager and expectant, like Jack’s answer will reveal the secrets of the universe.

“It’s not disappointing,” Jack concedes.

“Well, for five dollars I should think not!” Bittle scoffs as they head back out into the cold.

Bittle wears gloves in 40 degrees and pulls his toque down low over his ears, and sometimes Jack catches himself wondering what it would be like if he could provide that warmth. He decides, when Bitty gives him a friendly hip check, that maybe he’s getting there.

*****

iv

Jack is still 24, and he’s in what his boyfriend just called “Southern-Fried Hell.”

Okay, not really. Objectively, Bitty’s MooMaw’s place isn’t bad at all. It’s the fact that he’s here, sweating profusely and trying to politely choke down a plate of terrible coleslaw, while every single Bittle and Phelps in the state of Georgia attempts to engage in polite conversation when all he wants to do is find a private corner where he can make out with Bitty.

Jack doesn’t even like coleslaw. It’s slimy and stringy and this particular coleslaw is oddly sweet yet somehow bitter and acidic at the same time. There’s pepper in it? Pepper, and something gritty that might be sugar or possibly dirt. Jack hopes it’s sugar.

From the other side of the yard, Bitty catches his eye and hides a smile behind a slice of watermelon as Jack explains his upcoming training schedule to some uncle or cousin or neighbor. He’s been introduced to so many people today, and it’s exhausting. Jack genuinely wants to get to know Bitty’s family, but he also wants Bitty, and only one of those things is possible at the moment.

“Oh, sweetheart,” Bitty laughs as he cards his fingers through Jack’s hair later that night. “You did not have to eat Aunt Connie’s coleslaw. Bless her heart, she tries, but we all stopped pretending we liked it years ago.”

“I wanted to be polite,” Jack says. “Make a good first impression. My parents always made me try a little of everything at their parties.”

Bitty’s face does something complicated, a look equal parts pity and irritation. “Jack. I promise you nobody in this family is gonna think less of you because you don’t eat Aunt Connie’s coleslaw, or Uncle Hank’s ribs, or Judy’s potato salad. I’m not gonna think less of you. It’s enough that you’re here.”

Bitty presses a little closer to Jack, and Jack’s body registers every point of skin-on-skin contact: elbows, hands, thighs, calves. Bitty’s bare foot where it tangles with Jack’s. It feels like there’s an electric current running through each point, vibrating at a frequency only they can feel.

Or it could just be the humidity. Georgia in July is really fucking humid.

Overhead, the fireworks show is starting, far enough away that they can see but not hear the spectacle.

“Promise me,” Bitty says, corners of his mouth quirking upward, “that next year you’ll skip the coleslaw.”

It should feel scary, to make that promise when this is still so new, but Jack can clearly see the years spooling out ahead of them, years of avoiding Aunt Connie’s coleslaw and making small talk with the strangers he met today until they’re no longer strangers.

“Okay.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Bitty sighs happily and rests his head on Jack’s chest, a pleasant weight that reminds Jack of everything he’s found since the day he lost it all.

*****

v

Jack is 36, and some days he feels every day of it. His shoulders and knees ache more often than not, especially when a four-year old is perched on top of those aching shoulders. When they walk into Bitty’s shop he gently lifts Evie from his shoulders and sets her down in front of the bakery case so she can look at the day’s treats.

“Chocolate old-fashioned?” Bitty’s sliding the doughnut across the counter before Jack orders. He knows his husband. Never once, in all the time he’s owned this shop, has Jack ordered one of the novelty doughnuts he keeps on the menu even though there’s nothing really “novelty” about Skittles or Hot Cheetos on top of a doughnut these days. They’re a holdover from the previous owner, who made his name creating Instagrammable confections. Bitty’s taken his original recipes in a different direction, experimenting with natural food dyes and delicate floral infusions. His creations have gotten some attention in local foodie circles, but most people come in for the classics.

Jack still doesn’t eat sprinkle doughnuts. The sprinkles, even the organic ones Bitty uses, still stick in his teeth and make them feel funny. But Evie loves sprinkle doughnuts. She especially loves it when her daddy hands one to her and takes a break to sit with them while she eats it.

“How was your swim lesson, sweetheart?” Bitty asks, a soft sigh escaping as he sits for what is probably the first time all morning. Jack listens to the two chatter happily as he picks at his own doughnut, chewing slowly.

Jack remembers sitting in a shop like this with his own mother, and — occasionally — his father. He and Maman would stop at the doughnut shop across from his swim lesson for “a little treat,” as she liked to call it. They always went to that one instead of the chain shop Papa had an endorsement deal with; it was a long time before Jack realized Maman intentionally chose the smaller shop because of its anonymity.

“That’s Papa.” Evie points at the poster on the wall behind Bitty, at a smiling Jack holding a cake doughnut topped with sprinkles, Falcs blue and yellow. After the last Cup Bitty had the idea to recreate the advertisement Bad Bob did years ago, and with time Jack agreed that it could be fun. Somehow, the photographer managed to capture Jack at the exact moment he saw Bitty and Evie walk in. Bitty says it’s the most natural photo Jack has ever taken.

“That is your papa,” Bitty says. “Remember, we took the pictures together and talked about how we were going to put the one of just Papa up here in the shop because his team won the Cup? How does he look?”

Evie take a bite, swallows as she tilts her head and considers the Jack on the wall. Suddenly, he recalls with perfect clarity what it felt like to be four or five and see another version of his father in a public space. The way it made him feel proud and shy and scared for reasons he couldn’t articulate.

“Happy,” Evie finally declares, swinging her legs and beaming up at her fathers. “I think he looks happy.”

[greennightspider]

Secrets II: A City on Fire

Summary: How Hvitserk, a fierce yet aloof viking warrior ended up hiding in a hutt with the beautiful, the clever, the cheeky Rumena. His delicious little secret.

Secrets, Secrets III, Secrets IV,  Secrets V, Secrets VI

Taglist: @laketaj24 @cbouvier23 @grungyblonde @badwolf-in-the-impala @tephi101 @readsalot73 (Tag list is open and lemme know what you think!)

Hvitserk x Rumena (OC)

One moon ago.....

“Take me on you.”

“Huh?”

Hvitserk watched as the woman before him bit her lip, her brow furrowed in concentration. “Errr, Take you on me?”

Hvitserk widened his eyes and then his mouth formed a lopsided grin that ended in a mischievous chuckle. “I mean sure.” He trudged forward amongst the burnt debris while his fellow Vikings thrived and raided in the fires. Putting all his of his sultry womanizing-skills to use he placed his hand above her head on the remaining wall behind her. With the other on his hip, he grinned as he leaned in to try and kiss the vision of loveliness before him. 

“Ew no!” Mena slapped his face lightly with annoyed look on her face, with just enough force that he got the message. Curse this language. Prepositions were never Mena’s favorite part of learning new languages.

Hvitserk was shocked she was so bold, although that only aroused him even more. He took in her short stature and her wildly curly auburn locks that reminded him of Sigurd’s, except much darker. Her complexion was like a sun-kissed peach, which Hvitserk assumed was because of the blinding sunlight that gave no quarter during the day. Back at home Viking women her age were usually more on the slender side, but her tight revealing dress that had been torn on the side showcased her soft thighs, while its dangerously low neckline revealed an even softer looking bosom. Such fullness Hvitserk would have been dying to feel.

“Take me with you.”

Anyone who would have looked at the two surrounded by fire, death and destruction would agree that these two could not have looked more comfortable. Eerily at home amongst the chaos that encirled them from all sides. and Hvitserk stared at each other. Judging. Assessing. Curiously weighing up the possibilities that may be in store with each other.

Ah. Hvitserk nodded at her request, kind of taken aback. This was the first time someone had ever wanted to willingly board one of their ships, as usually he would have to drag them kicking and screaming. That is until they killed one as a show of force, to which the captives usually got the message about resistance. “Why?”

“Me? Me work here.” She pointed at the building of charred rubble behind her, trying to use her arms to gesture at the now demolished structure. “Err, we sex for money.”

Ooo a brothel. Hvitserk grinned, slightly annoyed it was burned down before he had a chance to taste, or to ‘sample’ the local goods. Hvitserk didn't know if it was the adrenaline boling in his veins from the raid, or the way that Rumena looked admist the blaze, but she was getting more and more attractive by the second. He then lifted his gaze to look around, hoping that even among the carnage the girl before him wasn’t the only one to survive.

“But why would you want to come with us? We, uh, we burn your home?” Hvitserk started gesturing with his own hands at the bloodshed happening around them.

She instantly shook her head. “No no no no. Not home. Never was home.” He then noted the disdain she held in her eyes. In her beautiful dark brown orbs he found no regret, or sympathy for those around her. He would not call her gaze cruel, as he recognized the same look in his reflection many times. No disdain, no pity, just ambivalence.

“I stay? I have no life. They beat me for not dying with master in rubble.” Rumena pointed at the hint of a bulbous hairy leg underneath a large part of the stone-wall, and Hvitserk nodded as he understood. The way this girl must have been treated as a prostitute was enough for her to take her chances with a bunch of bloodied strangers. This fact clear from the way Rumena had decided to haul a boulder from the rubble and smash what was left of her previous master to bits.

“…And, what would I get in return?” Hvitserk drawled slowly.

Rumena folded her arms in thought, before eyeing the half-eaten pomegranate near Hvitserk’s foot.

“I can… satisfy your hunger?”

Hvitserk raised his eyebrows and licked his lips in interest, and before he could finish his devilishly erotic fantasy Rumena held her hand up and gave him pause.

“I can cook.”

Even better.

————————————————————————————————–

Hvitserk managed to sneak Rumena onto one of the slave boats under the guise of a captured thrall. Every night he was the first to volunteer for the nightwatch, and under the moonlight he shared his rations with Rumena, making sure that she was at least surviving.

During their midnight skirmishes Hvitserk would wrap her in his arms to try and keep her warm, while he taught and practiced with her his language, as she munched gratefully on his half of the rations. He knew she was trying to put on a brave face, considering slaves weren’t given the best conditions. If he had his way she would have at least a bundle of furs and wouldn’t sleep on the dampest coldest part of the boat. But they both knew it was the best plan.

Hvitserk couldn’t guarantee that any form of favouritism wouldn’t turn into a curse for his beautiful companion. As a prince, he couldn’t ignore the possibility that a trader or other in Kattegat would try and kidnap the girl and demand payment after seeing his interest in her. And no girl that found favor among the Ragnarssons had ever come away unscathed. She could be targeted solely for his favoritism towards her. And Hvitserk knew that if his brothers saw her beauty and knew of her former life, he would be expected to share her. But for once, just once Hvitserk wanted something for himself.

So amongst the rubble they had found the dirtiest rags that barely passed for clothes to hide Mena’s curves, and Mena dipped her hands and face in soot so no one could see her true appearance. When she walked onto the slaveboat she hobbled, as if she had a limp, and sure enough it had worked like a charm. Bjorn and Ubbe paid no attention to her at all, and Ivar merely scoffed and turned his attention elsewhere. For what use was an old, dirty slave?

They’d probably be dead within the week.

[the-colony-roleplay]

☭ FEVER STATE: “A BUG IN THE SYSTEM”☭ stage i 

Fresh biscuits baked long before the sun rose the morning of Monday, January 3rd, 2163, had the dining hall smelling sweet and inviting by the time people arrived for breakfast.

Overall, it was more or less like any other day. The coffee was mediocre at best, but it’d definitely been worse, and so that, combined with the scent of fresh flakey pastries put most in at least a half-way decent mood. A down right good one, for some.

It was roughly half nine when the first civilian fled their classroom for the bathrooms, claiming feeling ill; about a quarter to ten when not one, but two citizens threw up in the middle of the training fields; and just past ten thirty when an entire rotation of Infected citizens on meal prep chores were all but collapsed on bathroom and infirmary floors.

The sickness took everybody, regardless of status, age, infection. It didn’t matter what they’d had for breakfast (or hadn’t) or what they’d had for lunch: by 2pm, Monday afternoon, not a single person in Colony 22 wasn’t showing symptoms. Not even the NWRF.

The sickness started like many common fevers or the onset of viruses. For most, it began with the sweats. A quickly rising internal temperature, but chills on the surface of one’s skin, often engulfing an individual in miserable, sickening shivers.

Soon after came the shakes, vertigo-like dizzy spells, and extreme nausea, followed swiftly by an inability to keep anything down. A complete purging of the stomach, the biggest concern for the quickly filling infirmary was keeping everyone hydrated. Nurses, all of whom were also sick to varying degrees but working tirelessly and bravely through it, began to separate those in desperate condition as the sickness spread, from those in a more manageable condition—in other words, those who were more likely able to keep some water in their system, and those who weren’t.

Infirmary beds were then reserved for citizens whose symptoms were more critical, so they could be hooked up to IVs which would keep them hydrated and in a stable condition. Those lucky few whose symptoms were slightly less severe and maintained at least strength enough to move around between bouts of vomiting and to drink water slowly, were contained to their dorms, where whichever medical staff were still upright would check their vitals and tend to them as best they could. 

No one was to leave the infirmary or their respective houses under any circumstances. Not until more could be understood about this sickness, where it came from, and most importantly, what its consequences would look like.

Officials worked frantically to communicate with other Colonies—was this happening anywhere else? Had a source yet been located? Had any fatalities been reported? Colony 22 as a whole was immobilized; at a complete and utter standstill, desperate for information that would only come with time.

A/N: Alrighty kids! The moment you’ve all been waiting for! Part One of the new year plot drop! (Both our New Year AND the RP’s New Year!!)

Welcome to: ☭ FEVER STATE: A BUG IN THE SYSTEM ☭ { stage i } !!

This is frames as an ‘event’ as you can see in the banner, but technically speaking it’s a plot drop element that will be revealed in roughly four stages—some of which will be happening sooner than others. Reveals will come over time, and some stages will have longer delays than others.

Additionally, stage one, “A Bug in the System” will actually happen with its own individual mini-stages as well. The whole stage will take place over only TWO (VERSE) DAYS in the RP timeline, but there will be a second post from the Main that will happen a few hours into the second day (in the RP verse) that will trigger the second half of stage one.

So, to simplify:

From this moment until further notice, you may RP ANYTHING in the RP timeline between MONDAY morning, Jan 3rd, to TUESDAY morning the 4th, before 11am.

When the 2nd portion of this stage of the plot drop is posted from the main (you’ll know it when you see it), it will open up the remainder of the time frame for the first stage, A Bug in the System. More details will come with that post to ensure every body is clear and has all the information they need!

As far as real time goes, we will likely head into stage 2 next weekend, depending on what the dash is looking like. Stage 1 and 2 are a bit more connected than the others, so it may make sense to do so. 

☭  General Guidelines: ☭

As always, you may continue old threads as long as you need to, but you may not post anything new that happens before this plot drop. Everything new on the dash must be within this timeline, which is currently only the Monday morning to Tuesday morning. As the plot progresses, you will always be updated about timelines and what’s available to you to RP.

Because this is not a contained event so much as it is a plot drop revealed in stages, and because we want to time it according to how much activity is on the dash and how well you guys are getting through content (we always like to customize according to member activity speed so that people have a chance to explore whichever plots they need to!), we ask that you TITLE ALL THREADS in this stage of the timeline, and they MUST include any variation of the following:

Fever State: part one OR Fever State: Part 1 OR FS: Stage 1 OR FS: Bug in the System etc, etc, etc...

Alternatively, you can chose only to include some form of the Stage 1 title itself:

A Bug in the System OR Bug in the System OR BITS/B.I.T.S. (woah okay didn’t notice that before, that’s weird haha) OR ABITS/A.B.I.T.S. etc, etc, etc...

Essentially, you can format your thread titles however you wish, the only requirement is that it indicates which stage of the drop it is. This will become important as the stages progress and you are wanting to continue plotting across them, and simply keeping things clear on the dash. (Note: please note that if you decide against indicating anything about ‘fever state’ please don’t only say ‘part one’ as there have been many ‘part ones’ over the course of Colony events. If you’re going to stick with only stage names in your titles, then make sure to use the name of the stage in some capacity.)

All posts on the main regarding the new plot drop will be tagged as #col22feverstate. Each stage will also have its own tag, and stage one will be #col22FSbug. You do not have to use these tags for your personal posts, but can certainly choose to use them if you wish or tag however you like for your personal organization styles.

☭  Individual Character Variations: ☭

It’s up to you to decide when and how your character(s) is/are affected by the sickness, so long as it remains consistent with the canon narration posted above the cut. 

In other words, all characters, with no exceptions MUST be showing symptoms before roughly 2pm on Monday January 3rd. But some characters may have been hit worse than others. So, you can decide how long it takes each symptom to show, and how drastically they are affected by and experience these symptoms. If you want one or more of your characters to be sick but still able to walk around a little bit or maybe even help out the medical staff, that is fine. Alternatively, if you want one or more of your character(s) to be totally immobilized, finding it incredibly difficult to even move or get out of bed, that’s fine too. 

But everyone gets sick, and everyone experiences at least some bouts of vomiting. 

Stages of illness should happen in the order mentioned above, but they can be timed however you want and some symptoms may affect characters harder than others. Also, it is up to you if your character is well enough to be in their house/dorms or if they are in the infirmary. 

The only thing you can’t do in terms of the symptoms is change any of them or report any other symptoms not listed above, in case said symptoms conflict with any further planned plot progression. If you are unsure about anything or want to inquire about specific details, please direct your questions to the main blog ASK (so they can be answered publicly to help everyone). 

☭  Chaos in the Community: ☭

In terms of what the structure of things will probably look like as this is going down, it’s going to be pretty chaotic for at least the first few hours. People will be admitted into the infirmary and then a couple hours in, as it starts to fill up and it’s becoming clear that this is happening at an epidemic level with citizens, that’s when the medical staff will start moving people around and clearing infirmary beds etc. 

With regards to restrictions and security and keeping citizens in their houses—it’s going to be enforced as much as possible for the purposes of being able to take care of people properly, but the staff are all sick and very spread thin—so the first half of the day is going to be much more chaotic, especially as people are still in varying degrees of illness. If someones tries to leave their bed or house, it will likely be possible for them to do so as long as there isn’t a staff member tending to them right at that moment in time to keep them there. There will be a lot of running around between patients and rooms and finding supplies and dealing with emergencies, so truth be told, it’ll be a bit of a shit show. 

By the evening, around 6 or 7pm, more people will be completely out of commission, so things should have calmed down by then and more people will be where they are supposed to be, wherever that is. However, if you have a character who doesn’t experience the sickness as badly as the other and it stays that way, they may be able to move around a little bit more or offer to help staff or check on friends in other houses, if their vitals looking more positive. 

There’s a few different ways you can play this, and you are free to develop your own headcanons with each of your characters, just keep in mind the rules about the symptoms mentioned above, and please do come to the mods with any specific inquiries you might have! 

Alright, God Speed munchkins! Have fun with your little puking babies and... we’re sorry?? hahaha...

Love you all!

xxColMods

[chronicowboy]

No hero (part 2)

A/N: this is the second part for those who wanted it. Thanks for all the positive feedback it means so much to me. Bold and italics means a flashback.

Alex remembered the days. The days when she closed a book and wished, with eyes squeezed shut in a silent hope, that she would have an adventure of her own. Then, she looked back at those days with a stomach churning hate. For herself who dared to dream. For the stars who granted a misguided wish. For the authors who lied. She despised them all. It was their fault her path had diverged from the sunny normality all those years ago. It was their fault she had stumbled onto a rocky path disrupted by desperate roots. It was their fault.

No. It was her fault.

My fault.

Alex jolted out of her haze as a door slammed shut. Her forehead, still resting against the window, burned with the noise.

"What is wrong with you?" A harsh voice shouted at her back. It laughed. Cold and shocking. "Seriously. Please enlighten me!" Alex winced at Diana's voice. "You think you're funny? You think you're brave? You're not. You're stupid." Alex closed her eyes as she felt tears welling. "You could have died, Alex! You could have been killed!"

"So what?" She murmured to the glass more than anyone else.

"Oh! So now you weigh in! No!" Diana's voice was only getting louder. "You don't get to decide that your death means nothing. That's not how this works. You have friends now. No... No. Sorry. You have a family now. You have to be careful. If not for you then for them..." Diana sighed. "For us."

"I don't have anyone. You pretend like i do. But I was never meant to have anyone. The universe has made that pretty damn clear!" Diana sunk onto the windowsill.

"Well, the universe doesn't speak for me. I prefer to talk directly to the people I care about." Alex scoffed. "Al... what do i have to do?" She took a deep breath. "What do I have to do to convince you that we're here. That we're staying."

"Nothing. I know you're here. But you can't be. You can't." She looked at her friend, then. "You just... can't." Diana let the silence settle before moving. She knelt in front of Alex's injured leg and began undoing the bloodied bandage.

☆☆☆☆

Alex sat in the tiny, white room. The bags under her eyes were relentless and her young muscles exhausted. She had fallen asleep to the sound of her mother's screams again last night. It only got worse. In a few minutes, doctor mole on his nose would walk in and inject her with another vial of glittering agony. Her fingers twitched, black wisps appearing from them. She clenched her fists, ignoring the tears as the door handle turned.

"Asset, my dear, why do you cry?" He hissed. She didn't answer, just let her gaze fix on the camera above her bed. "Mummy's screams not a good enough lullaby?" He giggled maniacally. Her glare did not waver. "I have a gift for you, my dear." A nurse wheeled a chair in before her mother walked in.

"Mummy?" She asked, breathless and desperate. The nurse and doctor pushed her into the chair, strapping her down. "Mummy! No. Mummy, stop them! Mummy! It hurts! Stop them! PLEASE!" She flailed against her restraints weakly. Her mother walked forward, reaching a hand out. Alex wanted to grab it. To run. But she'd settle for a reassuring caress. The shaky hand clamped over her mother and the tears burst from Alex's eyes. She screamed against the palm, noticing the absence of colour in her mother's irises. The doctor inserted an IV into her arm. It connected to several bags of fluids all of which burned upon their entry into her bloodstream. He removed the regulator from the tubes and the liquids flooded her veins. She began to convulse. Agony and pain embracing her with all their might. She looked at her mother's cold face and felt a rush of energy before the familiar black mists appeared and burst from her hands. The doctors and her mother flew into the walls. Alex's screams were uncensored and inhumane.

☆☆☆☆☆

Diana saw the bottom half of Bodhi's body poking out from Alex's door. Frowning, she wandered up behind him and looked at her scarily silent and still friend.

'What's she doing?" Diana asked in a whisper.

"Every time someone gets hurt on a mission with her, or killed, she creates a paracosm." Bodhi murmured back, thinking of the little boy that had made Alex feel like a hero for the first time. He wished it had have been any other hostage. He wished Alex hadn't have tried to shield him with her body. He wished she hadn't have been so close to see the life leave him.

'What's a paracosm?' Diana inquired.

"A world inside your head. People, places, things. She calls it her Mind Field. When she gets home, she comes up to her room and sits here for hours, recreating the scene in her head. She does it until she finds a way in which she could have prevented it. When she does she'll tell the person, if they're still with us. If not... well... You talked to her earlier." Diana stepped back and sighed.

"Could I have some privacy in my private quarters?" Alex called out, eyes remaining close. "Or is that too much to ask?" She deadpanned.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Feedback is always appreciated.

Tagging (ask me if you want to be removed I won't be offended): @midnightstyle-ts @spentthedayinbed @tooturntspooky @spooky-scary-spiderling @spiderrrling @spoopy-marvel-bean @pumpkinravingparker @waspmanandtheant

[lavendermenaceart]

Broken Pieces||Chapter 11||

Warnings: Hospitals, vomiting, blood, IV needles, drug addiction is mentioned, just a general warning.

Tag List: @stilinskis-banshee , @captainreid , @ultrarebelheart , @cynbx, @rawritsmolly 

Chapter 1||Chapter 2||Chapter 3||Chapter 4||Chapter 5|| Chapter 6||Chapter 7||Chapter 8||Chapter 9|| Chapter 10||

“Alright, thank you for your time.” Another door shut behind Spencer and Emily as yet another neighbor knew and saw nothing. The fear pulsed through him, turning quickly into anger as he drove his fist into the brick wall of the building once they made it outside.

    Emily looked shocked, her eyes widened and eyebrows shot up. Sure, you had snapped at her before, but she had never seen you so angry you resorted to physical violence. Your intelligence was your weapon. Her face took on a calmer and kinder expression as she reached for Spencer’s shoulder.

    Spencer jerked away, raising his hands. As he turned and walked a few steps away, he pressed his palms to his eyes as the pressure built behind them along with his frustrations. He could normally come up with 100 statistics, 1,000 precise facts, but right now he couldn’t think of anything except how hopeless he felt. They had no physical evidence, no witnesses, they barely had a profile.

    Emily was about to re-approach when she felt her phone ringing in her pocket. The Caller I.D was for Hotch so she didn’t even hesitate to pick up.

    “Do you have anything?” Her tone was serious and flat. Spencer turned to watch her expressions during the phone call.

    Her eyes widened in reaction to whatever the person on the other end of the line was saying.

    “Text me the details, we’ll all be heading over right now. Thank you.” He didn’t know whether to dare let himself hope or if he should let the dread overtake him. That one sentence could mean so many things. Were they going to a crime scene to find a body, a hospital to find you fine and healthy, a hospital to watch you die?

    “Police were called by a young boy. He said his mother ‘Stole a lady and she’s very sick.’ Hotch sent the address for the hospital to me.” Emily was trying to keep a brave face and an even tone. ‘Very sick’ from a child wasn’t promising, especially in their line of work.

    Spencer felt like his legs were going to give out from underneath him. Since as long as he could remember, there was a constant barrier between his emotions and himself. That barrier was fitting to burst as conflicting emotions landed blow after blow on his walls. Fear for your health, Anger that he couldn’t find you sooner, worthlessness because he could have prevented this if he had just stayed the night with you when you asked, Hope that you were okay and healthy as possible and if not that, at the very least alive.

    “Spencer, come on. I know it’s a lot, but she needs you.” Emily’s voice brought him back from his short break from the control he usual held over himself. He nodded, at a lost for words for once in his life as they both jogged towards the SUV, Derek and Alex following after leaving a nearby shop.

    “We go the call and info. Everything going to be alright, Pretty boy, okay?” Morgan had his serious eyebrows on, Alex agreeing from somewhere behind both of the male agents.

    “There will be hell to pay if it isn’t.” Emily added after they had all settled into the dark car.

Not even the jolting of the ambulance ride had woken you, but you were jolted awake when you felt a horrible pain right in the middle of your chest.

    ‘Oh god, i’m having a heart attack. I'm going to die.’ You wanted to sob but all the sensations were keeping you from thinking too much on your thoughts and feelings. Another jolt of pressure and pain. You heard the groan pass your lips before you really felt it. Your eyes fluttered open, burning under the bright white lights.

    “Ma’am, Ma’am are you with us?” One voice came from above you.

    Another from in front of you. “Patient is starting to show signs of responsiveness.”

    You couldn’t bring yourself to speak, your throat destroyed from all the force and acid of the past…...however long it had been since you had entered hell. You just grunted before you felt a dry-heave spasm through your torso.

    “We’re gonna need Ativan, Zofran-” The nurse or doctors or whosoever’s voice faded out as your eyes rolled back in your head again before you closed them. The pain and discomfort made you want to beg for death, or at least their strongest pain medications.

    “We’re going to need and X-ray to see how bad the damage is so we can decide the best course of action.” You just wanted to pass out again. Their voices and all the lights and sounds were grating on your ears and just made your nausea worse if you were being honest.

    “Alright, I’m going to be giving you medication for muscle spasms, nausea, and pain, alright? You’re most likely going to need a blood transfusion, also. Do you know your blood type?”

  �� ‘Ohmygod please stop talking to me please just give me drugs and blood, holy shit.’ Those were the only real thoughts you were having at the moment. “B….plus.” Was all you could really manage.

    “Alright, thank you. We need B plus, ASAP.”

    “On it!”

    For the reminder of your time awake and feeling, you zoned out. It was all you could do to try to escape the pain while you waited for the medications to kick in. You were alive. In a hospital. Surely, you would be seeing Spencer soon? What if he didn’t even know that you were missing? What if he didn’t even care? You could hear your heart rate rising as new tears mingled with the old dried ones on your cheeks. Soon, you were too high to even be bothered with emotions.

    In that moment, you understood. You felt close to what Spencer felt. You understood why he would choose this over you. Those were your last thoughts before the radiologist entered your room.

    You stirred, more comfortable than you had felt in the past few days. Your pain was probably at a 3 or 4 instead of an outrageous 11. Something...didn’t feel right. You felt too light. Something was missing. What was missing?

    ‘Oh my god.’ Was all that your drug addled brain could come up with once you finally had the muscle strength to lift your head and look down. Where your right leg once was, there was now just sunken blanket.

    “Y/N oh my god.” You turned your head, confused to hear a voice other than your own.

    There was Spencer, standing up from the uncomfortable hospital chair, tears in his beautiful eyes. Seeing him when you thought you were never going to see him again, you didn’t care about your stupid leg. You lost 3/4ths of your right leg, but you were still alive to see that beautiful grin splay across his face as he took the one long step to bend over and hold your face in his.

You were both nose to nose, your breath intermingling. There were no real words that could be said in this moment. All the fear, anger, and hopelessness was resolved in this moment. You were filled with the love and determination Spencer always made you feel, but now more so than ever. Finally, after neither of you could decide on any words to speak, your lips crashed together.

Your lips were chapped and clumsy due to all the medication and lack of water, but Spencer didn’t show any kind of deterioration in his passion. The increasing rate of your heart could be heard through your heart monitor as you wrapped your arms around his neck, letting out a soft moan against his lips.

Spencer pulled away, kissing your nose before pressing his forehead to yours.

“I’m not great with being emotional, but god, I was so scared. I don’t think I have ever felt so afraid in my life as when I first saw your apartment.” You could hear the strain of tears in his voice. Your vision was a little blurry but you could see his eyes shining as he spoke. “I’m so sorry. I should have stayed like you asked, I should have paid more attention to your body language. I should have-”

“Spencer, Spencer stop.” You moved one hand from behind his neck to his chest. You weren’t sure you could articulate how you felt precisely, since you were high on all kinds of narcotics. but you couldn’t listen to him blame himself. “None of this is your fault. If it’s anyone’s, it’s mine. I didn’t take the threats seriously until she was at my door. Look, it’s okay. I’m okay. I’m not in one piece, but that’s fine because I’m alive with you by my side.”

You giggled at your own joke, letting him know it was fine to laugh with you. When he smiled and let out a short breathy chuckle, it filled you with more joy than you had felt in a long time. Spencer excused himself for a moment so he could call the team and let them know you were awake and okay enough to talk. For the first time in a while you felt like everything was going to be okay.

“Did you know in the United States alone, there are over 500 amputations a day? And over 185,000 every year.” It was dinner time at the hospital, and it had been a few days. Spencer and yourself were snacking on some jello and watching Animal Planet on the hospital T.V.

Hearing him spewing facts was so relieving. For the past few days, he had rarely been talking about anything other than how much he loved you and how sorry he was. You tried not to look surprised, but instead nodded your head and chuckled.

“And I’m one of them!” You glanced over at him, smiling. “It’s nice to know I’m not alone.”

“Far from it.” The gorgeous nerd reached over and patted your remaining thigh.

“Alright, love birds! Here comes the daily delivery.” Garcia’s bright and cheery voice rang through the door as she waddled in on bright blue high heels, her blush perfectly highlighting her cheeks as she grinned, holding 3 vases with mixed bouquets and 7 different cards and 2 balloons.

“Jeeze. I think I get the message, guys. You really want to me to get out of here.” You reached your arms up, enveloping Penelope in a hug before grabbing the cards as she set the vases down in water free spots were left in the hospital.

All of the cards were from the team except for one. The name you found on the inside surprised you.

Spencer picked up on your surprise and his mind must have been jumping to the worst conclusions because he immediately had his profiler face on. “Who is it from?”

“Do you remember Paula, my friend who kind of stormed out of the hospital after….the, uh, incident.”

“Yeah, Of course.” Spencer leaned over the arm of the bed to read the card over your shoulder. His face fell and you felt yours twist in anger.

“Oh, no, angel. What did she say?” Garcia hurried towards you, looking down at the card before you ripped it into pieces.

“Told you so.” Spencer read off from his photographic memory, his lips dragging down at the corners in a frown.

“What a bitch.” Garcia turned towards you. “No offense.”

“None fucking taken. If she comes up here I will personally kick her ass.” You felt Spencer’s hand on your shoulder and Penelope was shaking her head.

“Don’t waste your energy, hun. You have a group of badass FBI agents to take care of her if she tries to bother either of you.” Garcia pulled up a chair next to your bedside, taking your hand in hers. “I mean, you could absolutely take care of her yourself, but It would probably hinder the healing process.”

Garcia had been such an angel this entire time. Of course she sobbed like a baby once she first laid eyes on your leg, or lack thereof, but now you were all bantering and joking about it easily.

“You’re an angel you know that? Does the team know that? Spencer, do you know that?” You looked between the two, Garcia flapping her hand flamboyantly like she was trying to shoo you away.

“Oh, stop.”

“Yes, The team is extremely aware of how much of a blessing Garcia is.” You all laughed and for the first time since being kidnapped, you felt relatively normal. It was easy banter for the rest of the night, other members of the team entering the room to chat and wish you the best. Hotch surprised you with your own wheelchair and you nearly cried. You hadn’t been thinking ahead that far, and admittedly neither had Spencer. You were both just enjoying the fact that you were alive and in the same room for the first time in days.

You were so thankful for these humans in your life. If you had been going through this alone, in all honesty you would be dead. You were so privileged to know them and to have met them. You were going to make sure they knew that and that they felt appreciated for the rest of the time you were in their lives. For now, though, everyone but Spencer was hugging you and telling you to rest and the medication was making you pretty sleepy.

You fell asleep holding Spencer’s hand over the railing of your bed, the sounds of Animal Planet in the background.

[patchworktail]

ITS 4:30 AM AND I DONT FEEL LIKE SLEEPING so I’m gonna do this meme that i got tagged for twiCE and totally forgot to do til now!!!! (i had 2 dig through your blogs to find them omg)

ANYWAY i was tagged by both @mooitstimdrake​ and @cynessie​ (I MISS U BOTH BTW ❤)

RULES: Share 11 facts about yourself, answer 11 questions provided by the tagger, tag 11 awesome people and leave 11 questions for them to answer!

(I’m gonna skip tagging people/asking 11 questions - 1) because I’m lazy 2) because a lot of people who I would tag either have already been tagged or woN’T DO IT and 3) I have to answer two sets of 11 questions anyway so I’ll let one of those sets take the place of my 11 questions!!)

11 Facts

I was supposed to leave to move into my college 3 days ago but since my college is in Savannah they pushed off move-in/orientation for a weEK BECAUSE OF HURRICANE IRMA AND I’M STILL UPSET/DISAPPOINTED

That being said I’m about to start as a college freshman at art school, planning on majoring in animation! :D

I binged all of Buzzfeed Unsolved in like 2 days and I fuckin LOVE IT

Also BNHA is like my current main obsession???? I fell in love w that anime and uhhhh I’d Die For My Kids

I almost never use skype anymore - I’m always on Discord now (mutuals may add me just message me if you want my tag :3c)

I loooove creating OCs and my main OC is a forest elf named Rally and he’s precious and I LOVE HIM AND COULD TALK ABOUT HIM FOR HOURS (also my best friend @/harpxer and I have a huge ongoing rp with him and her mountain elf oc, Kahl!! they’re really gay)

Hmmm fun fact I guess I’ve been involved with internet communities since I was 10 years old and I made my very first internet friend when I was 10 and we’re still great friends and talk p much every day to this day (hi @/fiishr)

I want a tattoo super bad but idk what I’d geT

I worked at a jewelry engraving stand at an amusement park this summer and one night I accidentally gave myself a 1st degree burn on my finger from the hot glue gun and it hurt So Bad

I had my graduation party this July and it was really fun but the best part was when 14 of us played this giant game of spoons and it got really intense, made worse by people randomly screaming during it, and then we collectively decided to blast hardcore rap music from the speakers and Let Me Tell You i have not been involved in a more stressful card game in my LIFE

I’ll always always always fall for the hero/happy character/protagonist basically....idk what it is about me but I’m so Predictable...I love cute optimistic brave characters who just wanna do Right.....I don’t cARE IF PEOPLE THINK THEY’RE BORING I THINK THEY’RE PERFECT AND AMAZIGN AND I LOVE THEM

AS FOR AN EXTRA 12TH FACT ABOUT ME AS U CAN SEE I WRITE WAY TOO MUCH AND ALSO I’M THE BIGGEST OVERSHARER E V E R IT’S SO BAD SOMEONE STOP ME

ANYWAY ONTO THE QUESTIONS :3c

@mooitstimdrake​‘s Questions:

If you were to make a new blog dedicated to one single thing (fandom, hobby/activity, etc) what would it be? Honestly, right at the moment probably BNHA!!!! it’s legit my most recent big obsession and I love it?? so much???

If you could have any kind of animal as a pet, what would you have? A RACCOON!!!!!!!!!!!!! I LOVE THEM SOSOSOSOSOS MUCH and some people actually do have them as pets! They can be difficult though but WORTH IT

Who was your favorite teacher and why were they your favorite? OH BOY......I’m gonna say it’s a tie between my AP studio art teacher and my AP US government teacher from this past year, my senior year! My AP art teacher because our class was super tiny, 12 kids, and it really felt like a family?? She was a-okay with letting us all goof around and say weird shit, she was really chill and funny and like. part teacher, part friend, which was always nice. As for my AP gov teacher, he was SO. FUCKING. FUNNY. OH MAN. NOT EVEN ON PURPOSE he just like? put up with SO MUCH? we had some real character kids in that class and my teacher’s reactions were HILARIOUS. he had a sarcastic streak too so his responses were equally as funny when someone did something weird. He would say the funniest stuff just ask @/harpxer I would tell her so many stories from that class sohboshrb. Aside from the humor that class was really interesting, and he’s a really good, invested teacher - he wanted us to learn, he’s super passionate about government and history, and he always started off each class with 2 current events which was really nice and helped me learn more about things happening in the world too!!! overall that was like my fav non-art class I’ve ever taken!!!!

What’s your guilty pleasure (and I’m challenging you not to say some kind of food)? HMMMMM. Honestly I’m gonna go ahead and say really cheesy or lame movies/shows (like, Disney channel movies, dumb shows - like the one summer I watched all of Glee LOL, stuff like that). Like yeah I know 90% of it is terRIBLE but it’s still amusing/lighthearted stuff that makes me happy KLSDJVLSDHB

Favorite pizza topping? EXTRA CHEESE IF THAT COUNTS, if not then pepperoni!!

What’s the last thing you bought (that wasn’t food)? I’ve actually been buying a lot the past few weeks in prep for college/spending a little money for ONCE since I worked all summer. I got a bunch of boring stuff but the things I’m most excited about are: two posters I got for my dorm (The Office is one and one is Lord Huron), a giant wall tapestry (it’s Up themed!!!), tWO BNHA/POKEMON CHARMS THAT CAME TODAY AND EVERY TIME I LOOK AT THEM I START CRYING BC THEYRE SO CUTE, and oh my GOD I BOUGHT THIS GIANT PILLOW FROM TARGET AND IT IS THE SINGLE SOFTEST THING I’VE EVER FELT AND IT’S HUGE AND IT IMMEDIATELY BECAME MY #1 COMFORT OBJECT AND TOP FIVE FAV THINGS IVE EVER BOUGHT!!!!!! I guess MOST recently though I just bought Clip Studio Paint online today (art program) since it’s on sale for 50% off and I’ve heard great things about it!

What upcoming movies/tv shows are you looking forward to? UHHHHH as for movies... justice league part 1, the incredibles 2, kingsman 2, the neW POKEMON MOVIE I CHOOSE YOU, probably a lot more I can’t remember rn. AS FOR SHOWS HMMM I’m...excited for the next season of the good place and izombie, and oh I’m excited for the punisher netflix show!! and the next season of voltron of COURSE!!! and next season of stranger things!! probably more I’m forgetting too tbh

Any recommendations (this could be anything just throw your best pitch at me)? JFISDJKLBJ I DON’T KNOW OMG tbh rachel you watch a lot of the same things I do already LMAOOO

What’s your favorite thing to wear that you own? OH FUCK I DUNNO HMMM I really like wearing my various leggings and scarves, but as like a Single Item....I like wearing....uhhhh I have this giANT sweater like it’s WAY too big for me but it’s so COMFY and I love it. I also love wearing my Star Labs sweatshirt bc it’s soft and comfortable

What was your first pet? my cat!!! we took her in as a stray kitten living in our backyard when I was like. 2 or 3 and so we’ve basically had her my whole life!!

If you could learn any language, what would it be? UHHHHHH honestly probably spanish - I took it 4 straight years and was okay at it in class but one year went by with me not taking it and I forgot everything LOOOL I’m...bad....at languages....

@cynessie‘s Questions:

Where is the coolest place you’ve ever been? I haven’t been many cool places :( I guess the coolest isssss I dunno it depends? Lake George is where I go on vacation every year, I LOVE NYC, I love Savannah too and it’s where I’m gonna be for college so?? ?? ?  ? I’VE NEVER BEEN OUT OF THE COUNTRY AND I’M SAD BUT I’M POOR AND CAN’T AFFORD IT

What was the first thing you remember wanting to be when you grew up? veterinarian!! 

Look to your right. What do you see? a dirty plate on my desk, my bed just past that, and my CHARMS THAT CAME TODAY THAT ARE SO CUTE I CRY EVERY TIME I SEE THEM

What are you procrastinating on? ajkldjboidj lik e 4 art commissions,,,, and 7 MAP parts,,,, and my pre-work for 2 of my classes,,,,,,,and cleaning my room,,,, and sending thank-you notes to relatives,,, SOMEONE KICK MY ASS AND MAKE ME DO SHIT

Which family member are you closest too and what is their name? UHHHH.... I guess my younger brother Luke? or maybe my mom? I’m not on bad terms with anyone though, I love both my older brothers too and we all have a good sibling relationship I just talk more with my younger bro I think - second closest would be with my second older brother Connor!

What’s the last song you listened to? I’m listening to Ultralife by Oh Wonder right now :3c I’ve been on a huUUGE Oh Wonder kick lately!!

What do you generally carry in your bag/pockets when you go out? my wallet (w my license and money and debit card and all), travel size lotion, phone, and chap stick!!

What is one thing you are excited for? FINALLY GETTING TO COLLEGE NEXT WEEK AND STARTING CLASSES FJIODFHINBDFHBNSBO

Do you believe in ghosts? I’m gonna hesitantly say YES but I’m not 100% convinced I don’t think

What is a skill you want to learn? MAYBE THIS IS WEIRD but I think learning how to act would be kinda neat. On a more realistic note I wish I could learn to exercise without dying

Tell me a joke. I’M BAD AT JOKES DON’T DO THIS TO ME NESSIE!!!!!!!!!!!!!

SO YEAH THAT’S ALL FOLKS it’s 5am now...Nice..... :’) I love my ability to stay up obscenely late while also getting Nothing Done JLSDNVDHAGHVDLAK

[wp-yahoo-style-1042-yahoopa-blog]

I braved the Arctic to test the warmest winter coats: Here are my key takeaways

The Arctic really put winter coats to the test. (Photo: Getty Images)

Every winter, the game is on to find the perfect winter coat — a tall order, considering it’s a challenge to find outerwear that’s not only warm and functional, but stylish, too. But where to begin?

How about in the most serious of wintry conditions… like just below the Arctic Circle?

That’s where I went recently — to Luleå, Sweden, to be exact. And it was seriously freezing. Luckily, I brought five top-rated warmest winter coats with me — from The Arrivals, Eddie Bauer, Uniqlo, Triple F.A.T. Goose and Columbia — to test in the city’s sub-zero temperatures. Keep scrolling to find out how each one fared.

Top pick: The Arrivals Halstrøm IV Woman Down Filled Modular Snow Parka

Yahoo Lifestyle Fashion Editor wears The Arrivals Halstrøm IV Woman Down Filled Modular Snow Parka (Photo: Julie Tong)

If you’re not familiar with The Arrivals, you might want to be: It’s a direct-to-consumer outerwear label started by Jeff Johnson, a former architect, and Kal Vepuri, a former tech investor (past investments include Warby Parker and Reformation). They set out to design an outerwear line that is structurally functional, but aesthetically beautiful — similar to how an architect approaches the construction of a building.

Vepuri said in 2015, “We decided that we wanted to create something unique in the apparel category that blended the merits of an architectural design approach with an online, direct-to-consumer retail model.” I’ve heard about The Arrivals for a long time and had seen their outerwear popping up on stylish women all over New York City. However, I was curious to see if their coats truly hold up in extreme conditions.

So, are they as warm as they are beautiful? Hint: Resoundingly, yes.

The 3-in-design in The Arrivals Halstrøm IV Woman Down Filled Modular Snow Parka. (Photo: The Arrivals)

The design 

The coat’s sleek and minimalistic three-in-one design immediately caught my eye. The outer shell is made of a waterproof nylon and the interior is lined with a detachable down jacket. I found it super easy to snap off the buttons and remove the liner or snap it back in when I needed more warmth. The hood is detachable, as well.

The waterproof shell of The Arrivals Halstrøm IV Woman Down Filled Modular Snow Parka. (Photo: The Arrivals)

The hood is detachable on The Arrivals Halstrøm IV Woman Down Filled Modular Snow Parka. (Photo: The Arrivals)

You can choose to wear the coat exactly how you want to, and that’s what I loved the most —the personalization factor. While in Luleå, I wanted maximum warmth and coverage, so I wore the full jacket as it is. However, while I was indoors, I removed the shell and wore the down liner only, which was the perfect mixture of warmth and cloud-like comfort.

As a New Yorker, living where rain is a given during the winter, I’m excited to try out the waterproof shell. It looks super sleek on and is a fashionable alternative to wearing a plastic raincoat.

The Arrivals Halstrøm IV Woman Down Filled Modular Snow Parka (Photo: The Arrivals)

Comfort level

It’s like putting on a warm and toasty marshmallow that’s super chic, too. The outer shell is lightweight, elegant and slimming too. However, the down jacket liner is probably the best part of the coat because of how plush and warm it is.

I will caution you that the coat is on the heavier side when assembled as a whole. However, I personally don’t mind it because that means more warmth overall. Then, there’s the option to disassemble it when you want to wear a lighter winter jacket.

Warmth level

According to The Arrivals website, the winter coat is “designed and tested to endure extreme weather conditions,” in temperatures less than 30°F. Luleå’s temperatures ranged from -2°F to 7°F  and for me, it 100 percent lived up to my expectations. It’s the warmest coat I’ve ever tried and coming from a fashion editor, the most stylish I’ve ever had. If you live in an area where the winters are extreme and harsh, this coat is a must.

The 3-in-1 design allows you to wear your coat just how you like it. (Gif: The Arrivals)

Size and fit 

I suggest choosing your regular size. Even without sizing up, there’s still enough wiggle room to layer underneath (even though you don’t really need to). In Luleå, I was worried about not wearing enough layers, but all I had on was a thin zip-up from Eddie Bauer and Columbia’s Omni-Heat top and Omni-Heat tights. 

Overall takeaway

If you want to invest in a fashionable winter coat that checks all of your boxes (warm, stylish, functional) this is the best of the best. The $595 price tag may seem steep at first, but compared to Canada Goose and Moncler, this winter coat is the best bang for your buck. If you do the math, you’re essentially getting three coats for the price of one. Trust me, this is the long term investment coat you’ve been waiting for.

Shop it: The Arrivals Halstrøm IV Woman Down Filled Modular Snow Parka, $595, thearrivals.com

Second pick: Eddie Bauer Women’s Lodge Down Duffle Coat

Eddie Bauer Women’s Lodge Down Duffle Coat (Photo: Eddie Bauer)

Eddie Bauer is one of those brands deeply rooted in American heritage, with a history tracing back to 1920. Since then, it has continued to maintain a loyal community of mountain climbers, snowboarders and skiers who trust the brand for its quality performance gear. As someone who does not ski, mountain climb, or snowboard, I wondered: Can this seemingly ordinary coat be just as extraordinary?

The design 

At first glance, this Eddie Bauer seems like any other coat. Upon closer look, the technical design is where it shines. The coat is made of a polyester shell with StormRepel® durable water-repellent (DWR). It’s filled with 650 fill premium down insulation. Translation? It has a sleek quilted design that allowed me to swiftly move throughout Luleå’s wintry conditions without feeling like a Michelin man — and it kept me super warm along every step. Compared to most puffer coats I’ve tried over the years, this one was much more flattering and less puffy overall.

Comfort level

As one shopper put it, “My body feels like it is snuggling in bed under my down comforter.” This coat is super soft, ultra comfortable and surprisingly lightweight. My favorite part is the fleece lining along the collar, inside pockets, cuffs and upper body lining. There is even a double-zip design so you can adjust to comfortably sit. The hood has a faux-fur ruff and is detachable too. There is a two-way zip design so you can adjust when you’re standing or sitting and you can snap the front buttons close for a more seamless look. 

The interior upper body features a soft and warm fleece lining. (Photo: Eddie Bauer)

Warmth level

This coat is listed has a -60°F moderate activity temperature rating. I’d say this is accurate. Even while I was trekking through the snow in sub-zero temperature, I loved how long it extended down helping to circulate heat throughout most of my body. The faux-fur hood  and snap closure especially came in handy when Luleås windchill was unbearable.

(Photo: Julie Tong)

Size and fit 

I recommend choosing your regular size. For me, this coat was not too bulky or too thin. It has a slim fit throughout compared to most winter coats, but relaxed overall. To ensure you find your own best fit, you can choose between petite, regular, tall and plus in addition to your normal size. If you prefer your coat to be a little tighter around the waist, there is an adjustable drawcord waist you can use to tighten or loosen the coat. Because I’m short,  the coat came down to my ankles. (Note: I had the regular fit, not petite).

Overall takeaway

If you’ve been searching for a long down winter coat that is simple and understated, this is the one for you. It’s not flashy or or too “high-fashion,” but just right. Because of its simple design, the coat’s appeal spans all ages. You can be in your 20s or 60s and it is still a seamless addition to your winter wardrobe. There’s a reason this coat has amassed over 1,000 ratings with an average of 4.4 stars.

To sweeten the deal, it’s currently on sale for less than $200! Try it yourself today. I promise you won’t regret it.

Shop it: Eddie Bauer Women’s Lodge Down Duffle Coat, $196 (was $279), eddiebauer.com 

Honorable mention: Columbia Women’s Heatzone 1000 Turbodown II Jacket

Columbia Women’s Heatzone 1000 Turbodown II Jacket (Photo: Columbia)

I was very skeptical as to whether or not this lightweight, short-length jacket would keep me warm in the Arctic. But I brought it with me anyway, because I was intrigued about testing its Omni-Heat technology in the city’s sub-zero temperatures.

The design 

It’s in between a parka and a puffer coat with its two-tone shell design. I personally love it because it looks more modern and edgy compared to a traditional puffer jacket. The most interesting part is its Omni-Heat thermal-reflective lining, which not only feels innovative, but it’s unlike any other jacket I own.

(Video: Columbia)

Comfort 

The jacket is extremely lightweight and very comfortable to wear all day long. In the past, one of my grievances with certain winter coats were that they may keep me warm outside, but as soon as I step indoors, I start sweating immediately. This one is actually breathable! Note, the Omni-Heat thermal reflective lining has a waffle texture which is surprisingly soft to the skin, but you might not be used to it at first.

Warmth level

The jacket’s heat technology is the jacket’s key selling point. It uses 60g Omni-Heat™ Thermal Insulation which is a thermal-reflective lining that helps retain heat. I wore it while snowmobiling through Luleå’s snow-covered forest and was shocked to see how warm it kept me.

Luleå, Sweden forest. (Photo: Julie Tong)

Size and fit

It runs true to size. There’s enough room for light layers. I’m 5’2″ and it hit just below my waist.

Overall takeaway

If you’re looking for a jacket to wear on an everyday basis, but not in extreme weather, this is the jacket for you. It’s something lightweight you can throw when you’re grocery shopping, walking your dog, or heading to the gym and will still keep you ultra warm. You can easily pack it for a quick winter getaway and it won’t take up too much space in your luggage or weight.

If you act fast, you can snag this lovely jacket for 30 percent off the retail price. At $315, it might seem like a splurge, but when you look at the cost per wear, it’s a no brainer. You’re not just pulling this jacket out once or twice a year, but wearing it throughout winter, from start to finish.

Shop it: Columbia Women’s Heatzone 1000 Turbodown II Jacket, $315 (was $450), columbia.com

The editors at Yahoo Lifestyle are committed to finding you the best products at the best prices. At times, we may receive a share from purchases made via links on this page.

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[isaacscrawford]

The Boys From Silicon Valley

By MARGALIT GUR-ARIE

A few weeks ago one man, named @jack, decided that millions of people will be allowed to use up to 280 characters when expressing themselves on Jack’s public square platform. One man decides how many letters each and every one of us, including the “leader of the free world”, can use when we talk to each other. Just like that. Nobody seemed the least bit perturbed by this notion. Another dude, named Mark, decided to ask people for nude pictures of themselves, so he can better protect them from the bad guys. We shrugged that off too. Then, in a most embarrassing exercise in public humiliation, our democratically elected representatives begged three slick lawyers representing these platforms to effectively regulate what people can say or see on “their” platforms.

So here we are, in the land of the free and the home of the brave, where Jack and Mark decide what you can or cannot say, and what you can or cannot hear or see. This, my friend, is the power of “platforms”. In the old days, it used to be that he who pays the piper calls the tune. In the artificially intelligent technology age there are no pipers. He who owns the pipe makes it play whatever the hell he wants it to play. And as Sean Parker, a Facebook founder, elegantly put it, “God only knows what it’s doing to our children’s brains”. Perhaps God knows, but he is certainly not the only one who knows, because these platforms are built with the explicit intent to get people addicted to and dependent on the platform.

Funded with cash from sexist pigs and harassers, a startup, whose business model is to help other startups “hook” people on trashy little apps, is calling itself Dopamine Labs. “Dopamine makes your app addictive” is their promise. According to the website, they use AI and neuroscience to deliver jolts of dopamine that “don’t just feel good: they rewire the brain’s habit centers” of users to “boost usage, loyalty, and revenue”. “Your users will crave it. And they’ll crave you”.

At its rotten core, Silicon Valley is a drug cartel, a very clever and savvy cartel who managed to convince the world that its brand of drug addiction is actually good for you and either way, it’s inevitable.

But just getting billions of people on techno-drugs is obviously not the end game here. After extracting trillions of dollars from addicts who would rather go without food and medicine, than go without an iPhone X that costs more than a full blown top of the line computer, the Capos of Silicon Valley Inc. are now realizing that there is plenty more left to extract from the armies of zombies they are creating. “Because I’m a billionaire, I’m going to have access to better health care so … I’m going to be like 160 and I’m going to be part of this, like, class of immortal overlords. [Laughter] Because, you know the [Warren Buffett] expression about compound interest. … [G]ive us billionaires an extra hundred years and you’ll know what … wealth disparity looks like.”

Ah, yes, health care, the final frontier. When Keytruda (the Jimmy Carter drug) became available, it was considered too expensive at around $150,000, but times are changing. The FDA recently approved the immunotherapy drug Kymriah from Novartis with a price tag of $475,000, although Novartis says it could have charged more, presumably because this drug is a life saver of last resort for small children with cancer.  Next, another CAR-T cell therapy cancer drug, Yescarta was approved by the FDA for adult cancer and Gilead Sciences priced it at only $373,000 a pop (that’s how value-based health care works). At this rate of innovation, it should not be too difficult to project a precise date for the emergence of that immortal class of overlords.

Developing personalized drugs, like immunotherapy, requires mountains of data from millions of people, and this is where the app-addicted public has a crucial role to play. Before the overlords can become immortal, we all need to “donate” our medical data, submit to experimentation, get sick and die, and yes, here and there a few lucky bastards will benefit from therapies their children will never be able to afford. Not surprisingly, Mr. Parker, the aspiring overlord, is now invested in an immunotherapy platform to coordinate research, or something like that. But Mr. Parker is a diversified investor. He has a couple more platforms. One is there to save the world from the AIDS epidemic by providing support to the Clinton Foundation.

The other platform is designed to help us vote. Yes, vote. The guy who promises to show us what wealth disparity really looks like is building platforms, complete with little dopamine jolts and colored pictures of bananas, to teach us all about “civic engagement”, because according to Mr. Parker’s venture buddy “the tools we build in Silicon Valley represent the best hope for fixing our democracy”.  Everything was just fine with “our democracy” until all investments in the Clinton Foundation came crashing down like a house of cards in one fateful night in November 2016, when the overlords were positively robbed by a dopamine-deficient populist mob. In a wholesome democracy, when you pay for a President, you’re supposed to get a President.

Of course “our democracy” has been “broken” in one way or another for upwards of two hundred and forty years, but I think we can all agree that “our democracy” today is less broken than “our democracy” in 1789. There is great utility though, in declaring something to be broken, especially something big and nebulous like “our democracy”, because such declarations are almost always followed by assertions that the diagnosticians of brokenness are uniquely positioned to become the fixers of all broken things. Our health care is broken. Our education is broken. Our justice system is broken. Our economy is broken. Our tax system is broken. Our infrastructure is broken. Our entire goddamn country is broken. Oh, what the hell, the entire freaking world is broken. And Silicon Valley is our only hope.

Silicon Valley has essentially only one product, a very versatile product indeed, but a single product nevertheless. Silicon Valley doesn’t actually make this product. They harvest it by casting gigantic computerized platforms and collecting everything caught in their digital nets, very much like Bubba’s shrimp: “… shrimp is the fruit of the sea.  You can barbecue it, boil it, broil it, bake it, sauté it. Dey’s uh, shrimp-kabobs, shrimp creole, shrimp gumbo. Pan fried, deep fried, stir-fried. There’s pineapple shrimp, lemon shrimp, coconut shrimp, pepper shrimp, shrimp soup, shrimp stew, shrimp salad, shrimp and potatoes, shrimp burger, shrimp sandwich. That- that’s about it.”

Information is the fruit of humanity. You can boil it and broil it to intimidate doctors and manipulate people, to extract immortality (and cash) for you and yours, thus fixing health care. You can sauté it and puree it to terrorize teachers and crush the minds of small children, to generate armies of drones (and cash), thus fixing education. You can sift it, scramble it, steam it, and serve it to nullify judges and juries, to protect property rights (and cash), thus fixing justice for all. You can slice it, dice it, can it and ban it as needed to keep all that cash flowing, thus fixing “our democracy”. 

Remember Jack and Mark? Unlike Mark, Jack is allowing users to remain anonymous on his platform. On Jack’s platform, if you see a blue checkmark next to the name of someone, you can reasonably conclude that you are talking, or rather listening, to a “real” person, instead of, say, a Russian bot.  Over time, it became clear that according to Jack, real people are those who are rich, powerful, or have enough “followers” to influence public opinion. Everybody else on Jack’s platform is shrimp. But Jack is an honorable man.

Jack is fixing “our democracy” by revoking the coveted blue checkmarks from some white supremacists. Presumably Messrs. Spencer and Kessler are no longer real.  On the other hand, the multitude of rich and powerful rapists, pedophiles and garden variety perverts, are still very real according to Jack’s superior morality framework.  Mark is fighting the good fight on behalf of “our democracy” in a different way. His platform is pursuing the enemy from without, by tracking enemy advertising paid for with rubbles, not yuans or ryials or euros or dinars or wons or yens, only rubbles, because the legendary KGB masterminds always pay in rubbles (with a return address of Моско́вский Кремль 103073) for all their international spying needs.

Now that “our democracy” is all nice and fixed, the Cartel can apply lessons learned to “democratize” medicine and fix “our health care” too. Health care is rife with old people, old fashioned ideas, and it is scattered all over the place. Nothing a big platform, dripping with dopamine jolts, can’t fix though. Uber for health care. Facebook for health care. Health care is like the iPhone. Information “blockers” will be prosecuted (this one is for real).  Structured data. Metadata. e-Visits. Remote monitoring. Predictive analytics. Population management. This stuff is just begging for a medical platform with hundreds of millions of patients “sharing” their health, their illness and their medical experience with each other, with doctors, researchers and of course the platform overlord and his customers.

You will share your symptoms, your concerns, your treatments, your outcomes. You will “like” CT scans, “star” lab results, and rate doctors, heath insurers, drugs or devices. Perhaps they’ll have a “dislike” button too. You will post videos of your colonoscopy and maybe live stream your telehealth session. You will ask for advice from patients like you and “clap” for the ones you like best. Your cancer remission could go viral. The platform will ensure you see things you care about and shield you from unsettling content. Before you know it, you will feel compelled to check your “health” every 5 minutes, and certainly when your iPhone vibrates with new images from Bertha’s mammogram, or when your Apple “watch” beeps with updates from your fantasy clinical trials league or with an urgent reminder to record your pre-hypertension medication intake so you can receive the coveted 20% discount on Christmas fruit cakes at CVS just in time.

Platformized health care will be cheap, convenient and readily available. And just like communications, shopping, porn, and news, it will be fake, manipulative, addictive and designed to “protect consumers” instead of benefitting citizens, or patients in this case.  Jack doesn’t converse with his buddies on Twitter. Mark doesn’t get his news from Facebook. Jeff doesn’t shop for deals on Amazon. And none of them will be getting medical care from a phone or a watch. You will. Your children will too.

Facebook just introduced a “safe” messenger for children under 13. Parents are supposed to set this up for their babies. Many will do just that. And experts will be exalting the thoughtfulness of the Cartel for creating a less toxic version, suitable for hooking children on the product. Why would a six year old need to message his “friends” online, instead of chasing them in the backyard? Why would a three year old need to watch sickly YouTube videos prepared exclusively for toddlers, instead of playing with alphabet blocks on the carpet? Why would the most powerful 71 year old man in the world self-destruct on Twitter instead of running said world? Why can’t you read an entire book anymore? Such is the power of the Silicon Valley Cartel.

Article source:The Health Care Blog