snail-queen-toffee

[dengswei]

clown part of my brain: ryumixmatch is RISING

logical part of my brain: we're about to get ryu heartbroken aren't we?

[idkwhoiamanymorebutwtf]

How Mervana shows Louie’s response to trauma.

I made a super short post basically saying “Hey I like how Mervana highlights Louie’s trauma and it’s effects on him” and people seemed interested in hearing more about it so here’s that post.

Now, it’s no secret (generally) that Louie really hates adventures. That’s obvious throughout the show, up to the most recent season. He never seems to want to go on adventures, always objecting to them or not going or changing his mind and wanting to go back half way through. The show never fails to remind us that he hates them. What’s more, the show never fails to remind us exactly why Louie hates adventures. In Glomtales he was actually happy to be missing the adventure at first, commenting “Well, at least I can skip out on another insanely dangerous adventure”. Something that only changed when he realized they were going somewhere not only safe but actually fun, something very rare. In The Golden Armory Of Cornelius Coot he rocks back and forth trying to convince himself of why the adventure was worth it, clearly extremely distressed. “Do not laugh in the face of my danger” he shouted when Dewey starting giggling. Later in that episode he basically sobbed out “I wanna go home”. In Challenge Of The Senior Woodchuck he says “I’m cold and terrified, this sure seems like an adventure to me.”

Most of the family isn’t actually affected by the constant stress and danger they’re put in. Huey, Dewey, Webby, Della, and Scrooge all find it incredibly exciting, Donald used to once upon a time and he stopped adventuring after it stopped being that. Nobody else has really gone through what Louie has. He isn’t built for adventuring. He’s been kidnapped, physically and mentally hurt, almost killed. Constantly. According to an article I read, “Trauma results from an event, series of events, or set of circumstances that is experienced by an individual as physically or emotionally harmful or threatening and that can have lasting adverse effects on the individual’s functioning and physical, social, emotional well-being.” and well, that absolutely fits the bill here. Below i’m going to put some symptoms of trauma that are in line with what we’ve seen from Louie throughout the show

Anger, irritability, mood swings

Anxiety and fear

Guilt, shame, self-blame

Withdrawing from others

Feeling sad or hopeless

Feeling disconnected or numb

Fatigue

Being startled easily

Edginess and agitation

Extreme alertness; always on the lookout for warnings of potential danger

Detachment from other people and emotions

Emotional numbing

Suspicion

Throughout the show there are many instances of Louie’s trauma being very obvious to anybody paying attention. However I think the episode Mervana actually showcased the effects outside of just Louie being visibly distressed over actively being in danger. Other episodes have shown his symptoms, obviously. His anxiety and fear are always on during at adventure and when they aren’t he’s shockingly, almost unusually numb to the situation. He’s almost always very fatigued (although the line between what’s fatigue and what’s just ‘laziness’ is a bit blurred), and he’s almost always a bit too hostile towards others. But Mervana showed a really direct ‘cause and effect’ type relationship with the things they’ve been through and his behavior throughout that episode.

Starting off the episode, we can see Louie seems very detached. He’s texting throughout Huey and Scrooge’s monologues. As I said earlier, when it comes to adventuring he’s always either in fight or flight mode or he’s completely detached, maybe offering occasional dull but volatile remarks here and there. Eventually Louie makes a comment about how “Now there’s two people putting us in constant danger” before sitting like this for the next minute or so

The other’s are mid conversation but he just kinda sits there blankly for a while before turning to make another remark. “Yeah, I definitely can’t wait to find a bunch of lost undersea monsters who definitely won’t have a dark secret that almost gets us killed”. And it’s important to recognize that Louie isn’t just being a pessimist here. He may not be in panic mode at the moment because he tends to emotionally detach himself until it’s time for his fight or flight responses to kick in (likely a way to cope with the constant anxiety that seems to follow him) but he’s still got a very good point because they are put in constant danger and this episode really, truly, is no different. Webby even asks “Why do you always have to assume the worst?” to which Louie pulls out his running list of the times they’ve been offered as a sacrifice. He’s almost died countless times. He’s watched his brother’s and sister almost die countless times. No, not countless, he’s counting. He’s literally keeping count of the number of traumatic experiences he’s gone through, which is at least one hundred and twenty. And that’s just the amount of sacrifices, which is to say nothing about kidnappings or non sacrifice related straight up murder attempts. 

Let me just say, though, that his suspicious nature, while completely natural due to his past traumatic experiences, and while somewhat grounded in reality because they did end up in danger during this episode, wasn’t completely accurate. Most of the Mervanan’s were genuinely good people but Louie immediately assumed they were going to hurt him and his family. He was on edge. He was immediately suspicious, even before he met them, even before he was given reason to be suspicious. The only person who read into things as deeply as he did was Beakley, who’s a secret agent. She will have been trained to be suspicious and pick up on small signs that something isn’t right, but Louie wasn’t. Louie was just on edge and suspicious of everything because those are big signs of trauma. He was right that something wrong was going on, but it wasn’t observational skills on his part as shown by the fact that he was sure they’d be put in danger before they ever met the Mervanan’s. 

A few times this episode we see the flip from Louie being on edge and suspicious to him actually genuinely being put in danger. And you can see clear as day that he gets no satisfaction out of it. Everyone else is usually proud or energized. Excited to fight, smug when they win or get away. It’s not the same for Louie.

And you can see there’s a difference even between Beakley’s suspicions based on genuine observation and valid doubt when compared to Louie’s which are based in the fact that he’s a traumatized individual who’s had his brain rewired in a way that makes him suspicious to an unhealthy degree. “You have no idea weather or not they’re going to feed us to their monster king?” Beakley asked The Harp. She was suspicious because she knows how the world works and realized something was wrong (because something was wrong) but she was rational about it. They didn’t have solid evidence, she didn’t know for sure. But Louie immediately replied by saying “they definitely are” which isn’t a rational thought process when he really, truly had no evidence to believe so other than his deepseeded instinct to trust nobody.

And when Beakley admitted that she didn’t trust the Mervanan’s either there was very little smugness in the way he handled it. Louie didn’t insist as hard as he did that something was wrong and that you can’t trust anybody just to prove a point to Webby. Immediately he interrupted Beakley and Webby’s situation by jumping in with “We need to get the harp down to the Mervanan’s or we’re all going to die!” Louie was truly in panic mode throughout this episode. He wasn’t just being a pessimist trying to crush Webby’s bright optimistic hope, he was trying to protect his family. When he first set off to find the harp he said “I’m going to find the harp before we all get sacrificed”. Then when he was debating weather or not to tell Webby the truth he pointed out that “If she doesn’t (find out the truth) she’ll be fish food!”. Then when he’s trying to move the harp down to the other’s his biggest concern is “Gotta save family”. It’s not just pessimism, it’s fear and suspicion, which are very different things. 

Later on we see that Louie’s ideals don’t fully match up with his behavior either. “The king turned himself into a monster, but you’re not him.  You built a society based on truth, and the truth is you don’t need Mervana to be good.” before turning to Webby and telling her “Somebody once told me that you have to look for the best in people and not assume the worst” and honestly, I don’t feel like this is abnormal thinking for him. Believe it or not, Louie is the kind of person to believe in other’s positive traits. He does very often see the good in people and obviously on a level of principal alone he doesn’t think all people are bad.  

However principals and logic are often overcome by the brain’s natural response to trauma. And those natural responses often aren’t as idealistic as “anyone can be good and you shouldn’t assume the worst in people”. Fear and anger and anxiety. Seeing danger everywhere. Always being on guard. They’re not something you can control. No matter how much you believe people can be good that instinctive urge to trust nobody spurred on by trauma is often much stronger. Especially when you’re not getting any professional help and have someone to protect. Even if Louie wanted to believe in people (and I think he does), his survival instincts are stronger than that. Even if he didn’t care about his own safety, he has a family who are too dumb to care about their own so he has to do that for them.

Overall a LOT of Louie’s storyline during Mervana was obviously highlighting his response to the trauma he’s had to deal with over the course of the show. And sadly I don’t think he’ll stop having these reactions anytime soon because it takes more than just knowing people can be good to deal with changes to your brain’s chemical makeup.

[snarkwrites]

01 | gangsta | sweetpea

Notes:

I’d say I’m sorry for starting a 3rd multi chapter series but I’m honestly not. I haven’t written a whole lot for Riverdale, but this idea just kinda came to me and I rolled with it? Anyway, yeah.. If people really like this, I might be tempted to keep this going beyond just the few parts I already kind of have halfway planned.

Huge hug to @twistnet​ because their writing about Sweetpea kind of awakened and fuelled this and if you’re not reading their fics, you really should tbh. 

Summary:

They clearly don’t mix. But sometimes, opposites attract. The only question is will these two’s sparks cause an inferno or go down in flames?

Ugh.. I hate my summaries, thanks.

Pairing:

Andrews!OFC, Alyssa x Sweetpea. Yep. She’s Archie’s sister. I couldn’t resist.

Warnings:

Uhh... teen angst, relationship drama, sexual tension, possible fights / violence here and there and.. That’s pretty much it. Oh yeah and eventually, filth.

Also, this is probably not going to follow seasons 2 through present to the letter. Actually, I’ll venture to warn now, it definitely will not. Because there’s some things in it that I’ve seen so far that make zero actual sense. And there’s probably not going to be a whole lot of Archie,Betty,Jugs and Veronica in here too, because this is me, kind of writing all the side characters into things a little more?

Tagging:

@brithedemonspawn​ 

Other Stuff:

[ faq - tag list doc - soundtrack ] 

                                                  ONE.

“Sweet Pea, you’ll be working with Alyssa Andrews.”

I didn’t dare turn to look back at the guy. He was probably one of the most intimidating guys in Riverdale High. He hardly spoke to anyone unless it was one of the two friends he happened to have. Neither of them were in this class period.

The teacher, seeming impressed with himself, gave a nod to Sweet Pea and Sweet Pea grumbled, stalking up the aisle and flopping lazily into the empty seat next to mine. Our sides brushed a little when he moved his desk closer after getting a look from our teacher. I tried not to tense up.

Sweet Pea seemed to notice. He smirked at me.

Leaned in a little.

“Relax, cherry. I don’t bite unless I’m asked.” he muttered against my ear. My breath caught in my throat and I was promptly thrown into the mother of all internal uproars. I shoved the book between us wordlessly, not even daring to glance over at him.

I was not about to let him take pride in the fact that he made me blush or rattled me, not even a little.

Our sides brushed again and I pursed my lips, taking a deep breath. Across the classroom, Reggie was already working with one of the other girls on my squad. I watched them laughing and flirting back and forth and I shook my head, rolling my eyes.

“I’m supposed to be his girl and  yet.. It’s as if I don’t even exist.” I muttered, mostly to myself. Annoyed at myself for being hurt over it because it shouldn’t really matter in the grand scheme of things. Reggie was a flirt. I’d known that going into things. I’d tried not to let it get to me. Tried to remind myself that nine times out of ten, he wasn’t doing it intentionally.

But tell that to Mandy. Mandy automatically thinks that any guy who flirts with her is in love with her, my brain weighed in on the matter and I sighed, drumming my nails against the desktop, glancing over my shoulder at the two and rolling my eyes all over again. I just knew I was going to have to hear about this all afternoon at practice.

“So you’re a River Vixen, huh, cherry?” he muttered after a few seconds, nodding to the cheerleading uniform I was wearing. I could feel him staring at me and sure enough, when I bothered to tear my eyes off of Reggie across the room and in full flirt mode with Mandy, he was looking me up and down. He repeated his question.

Just something about the tone he took when asking it both times that he’d done so had me jumpy. Defensive. He said it with this air of disdain. Making it obvious for the thousandth time since our school merged that he hated Riverdale High.

“Mhm.” I kept my best calm and neutral tone, despite the fact that I knew he was probably being judgemental. Or that he was being a tease. Maybe even both. “I have a name, by the way.”

“I know. But you also have bright red hair.” Sweet Pea shrugged, barely containing the smirk the second he realized that maybe he was getting to me.

“Yes. I realize this. But my name is Alyssa.” I muttered, my voice dropping lower. Trying my best not to let the giant of a Serpent intimidate me because that wasn’t who I was. He chuckled, shaking his head.

“Relax… Cherry.” Sweet Pea smirked at me.

“You just had to do that.” I grumbled quietly, shaking my head. I tried to focus more on the reading part of our assignment for today, but I couldn’t. Between Sweet Pea and the fact that I couldn’t tell whether he was teasing me, being an ass overall or a little of both and knowing that my own boyfriend couldn’t be bothered to butt in on my behalf and offer to switch with the guy because ‘his stupid pride’ and his thing against any and all Southsiders, my mind was already too full.

I finished my worksheet and glanced over at Sweet Pea, watching his eyes move over the page. Watching the way his tongue rolled over his lips as he wrote out his answers on the worksheet in front of him.

I jumped when without even looking at me, he muttered calmly, “See somethin you want, cherry?”

“No, I was actually just making sure you were actually doing the work.” I retorted, biting my lip when the words came a little harsher than I meant. He stopped writing and laid down his pencil, glancing up at me.

“Aw. Is somebody mad because her so-called boyfriend ditched her with a Serpent to go work with one of her little Valley girl clone besties?”

“Eat shit.” I snapped, tensing. Holding his gaze defiantly.

“You kiss your boyfriend with that mouth, cherry?”

My cheeks burned hot. Kissing was about all I did to Reggie Mantle with my mouth. And I never seemed to hear the end of it with most of the other girls on my squad, either. It was as if my sex life, or lack thereof, was the main topic of discussion pretty much any given moment.

,, And probably why he’s working with Mandy instead of you right now. You know he’s getting tired of getting stopped at second base.” my mind taunted me. I took a few deep breaths to really keep from losing my temper and I shrugged, not bothering to answer Sweet Pea. 

I don’t think I’ve ever made a faster retreat than the one I made the second the bell to end class rang. I grabbed my stuff up in a hurry, flustered and a little annoyed. Definitely angry.

Reggie caught up to me in the hallway, holding out his letterman’s jacket.

The one I’d been in such a rush to leave class that I’d left behind. I was beyond tempted to shove the jacket back at him and tell him maybe he needed to give it to Mandy. Or Veronica. Or any of the other girls he’s constantly talking to. But I bit my tongue and took it.

I didn’t feel like speaking up, telling him it bothered me when he went into charmer mode only to have him promise not to anymore and then turn to do it all over again not even an hour later. The whole thing was infuriating, more than a little redundant by now.

“You okay, princess?”

Reggie eyed me as he asked the question and again, I heavily debated telling him exactly what was wrong with me, but again I chose not to.

It wasn’t worth the argument.

It hurt, but it wasn’t worth the hassle.

I plastered on what I hoped was my best convincing smile and leaned against his side, letting his arm wrap around my waist. “Yeah. It’s fine.”

I tensed when Reggie spoke up, mentioning the fact that I’d gotten paired to work with Sweet Pea for the semester. “Ya know, you could’ve said somethin, princess.”

“You know how Mr. Keaton is, Reg. It wouldn’t have mattered.” I muttered, my jaw clenching just a little because it irritated me. Did he not see that it went both ways and stop to think that maybe, just maybe… If he didn’t feel like it was important to do on my behalf, maybe I didn’t see the sense in making waves for him?

He chuckled, rubbing his chin as he leaned against the locker next to mine when we stopped at mine so I could switch out my books. I stopped digging through my books and notebooks to gaze up at him. “It’s not a big deal.” I shrugged it off.

Honestly? It wasn’t a big deal. I didn’t see any difference between the jerk of a Serpent I’d been paired to work with and Reggie at this particular point in time. ,,I just had an easier time telling one of the two where they could shove it.” my brain saw fit to point this out and I quickly shoved out the intrusive thought.

Reggie wasn’t a bad guy. He just had a few glaring flaws.

At least he wasn’t out late at bars or getting arrested. Or whatever it was that Sweetpea called himself doing as a member of an actual gang.

All I had to go on, of course, were my brother Archie’s interactions with the gang thus far. Outside of Jughead Jones, of course. But to put it technically, Jughead couldn’t really be considered an actual Serpent. Merely one by association.

Reggie seemed content with my answer, pulling me closer as we walked past the section of the hallway where Sweetpea and his friends' lockers were. Glaring at Sweetpea as if he had some kind of point to prove. 

What Sweetpea did was petty. And if I were in a better mood and the guy hadn’t spent all morning making his mission to drive me up the wall, I’d have laughed. 

“Hey Cherry?”

I stopped and turned back, my hand on my hip. “Again. My name is Alyssa.” I reminded him firmly. We locked eyes and I bit my lip, squirming a little under the intense once over he gave me before meeting my gaze again a few seconds later. I dropped my gaze quickly.

Wait, was I blushing right now?

Why was I blushing right now?

“Leather would look better on you.” Sweetpea rubbed his chin thoughtfully, locking eyes with me again for a few seconds when I dared to look up, thinking the whole staredown was over. What surprised me was that as he was letting his eyes roam over me, sizing me up, I actually felt my stomach flipping and flopping lazily. My breath even caught in my throat a little and despite everything, I felt my cheeks burning just slightly at his words and that look in his eyes when they met mine all over again.

I eyed him with a raised brow. When Reggie practically growled from beside me and I had to throw my arm out to stop him from storming over and Sweetpea smirked, I gave him a dirty look.

“ You think you’re slick, Serpent? Talkin to my girl like that?” Reggie was seconds away from storming over. Starting a fight. A fight that I knew would get him benched during the game tonight. I cleared my throat, tensing in front of him. “Reggie, don’t.”

“Why the hell not, huh? Did you hear what he said to you?” Reggie looked down at me. It was clear he was wound up, the fuse was lit. All I could do was roll my eyes. Keep quiet. Because if I opened my mouth right now, I was going to wind up arguing with Reggie. And it was over something stupid. Pointless. I knew what Sweetpea was up to right now. If Reggie didn’t, that wasn’t exactly my problem.

Yes, I was still very bitter about his lack of a solution in class earlier. That was it. That was the entire reason I wasn’t about to step up and defend my relationship with Reggie after Sweetpea’s remark called it to question.

,, now he says something. It only took Sweetpea being an ass. Questioning Reggie’s role as my boyfriend. Oh no, he couldn’t stop me from being paired with Sweetpea earlier, when he knew it made me uncomfortable. He wanted to make it into my fault that I said nothing, too.”  the thought came, making me even more irritable, especially when I couldn’t shove it out.

Sweetpea smirked when our eyes met again and I bit my lip, quickly dropping my gaze. God forbid I stir things up even further…

,, why does it feel like I’m gonna come undone when he looks at me like that? He’s clearly doing it just to get under Reggie’s skin, there’s no way in hell he actually wants me.” I found myself thinking, only to get annoyed by the fact that yes, it did bother me to know that.

XXX

“The guy spent the whole period hitting on another girl. Right in front of her. I mean, it’s her fault if she’s too stupid to take that as a huge hint.” Sweetpea finished his tangent and promptly raised his brows, swallowing the food he’d shoveled in as he’d been ranting to Toni and Fangs.

Toni and Fangs shared a look.

“I knew he liked her. I called it.” Toni teased triumphantly, high fiving Fangs.

“What the fuck? No!” Sweetpea practically growled the words. Glaring at both Toni and Fangs when they gave him a look as if to say ‘Riiiight. Sure ya don’t.’ but said nothing. “I’m just pointing out she’s obviously too stupid to see what’s obvious.”

“And that little dig in the hallway was what?” Toni questioned, laughing when all Pea could do was open and close his mouth and then finally take a very aggressive bite of his burger. “It was me, stirring her up. Look, she’s hot. That’s it.” Sweetpea insisted firmly.

“If that were it, you wouldn’t always be glancing over at her. Getting that angry look whenever you see her around with that prick Mantle.” Fangs pointed out, earning him a glare from Sweetpea. Fangs continued, despite it. “And the whole reason you moved the fight from Andrews house to that vacant lot after you saw her in the upstairs window.. Why did you do that, again?” smirking when Sweetpea clenched his fists and grumbled at him, answering quietly, “I didn’t think it’d be right for her to have to watch her brother getting his ass handed to him. That’s it.”

A throat clearing had the three looking up.

Alyssa stood there, a hand on her hip. Glaring down at Sweetpea who flashed her a smirk.

“See something you want, cherry?” Sweetpea teased, taking a handful of fries from his plate, biting into them. Holding her gaze steady. A little annoyed with himself at the way his heart fluttered and sped up just the slightest as he did this.

“It’s.. You know what? Nevermind. Call me whatever, I don’t care. But no. I don’t. I did come over here to tell you whatever it is you're up to, I don’t appreciate being dragged into the middle of it. I know you’re only doing this in the first place to wind Reggie up. I’m not stupid.” Alyssa said the words with a jaw clenched tight. Glaring at Sweetpea.

Until he licked his lips and Toni happened to see the way her eyes followed the movement helplessly and began to really sit there and quietly assess the situation. Smiling to herself as her own suspicions formed exactly as to why Sweetpea’s actions as of late bothered Alyssa Andrews so much.

She kept it to herself.

Sweetpea chuckled and shrugged. “Don’t know why it bothers you. The guy’s an asshole. Do better, Cherry.” he waved his hand dismissively at her as if he were shooing her from the spot she stood in at the end of the table. Alyssa glared and folded her arms, tapping her foot as her mouth opened and closed for a minute or two.

Then she turned sharp and stormed off. Finding her own table with Reggie and the rest of the football players and cheerleaders.

Sweetpea found himself staring at her, shaking his head. Clenching his fists. “I don’t get it. How does she not see her whole thing with that asshole is one sided, huh?”

“The more important question to ask, Pea, is why in the hell it bothers you so much? They’re Northsiders man, leave ‘em to whatever it is.” Fangs shrugged everything off, taking a sip of the soda in front of him as he leaned back in the chair lazily.

Sweetpea ignored his friend and found himself watching the table Alyssa sat at again. Watching her. The way she threw her head back to laugh. The bright little smile that gave him the distinct feeling that yes, she could certainly be a handful if she really wanted to and she were really being her truest self. He  glared at Reggie when the two locked eyes after a few minutes.

And while the advice his best friend Fangs gave him was a good idea in theory, it was not an idea good enough to stop Sweetpea. Even though Sweetpea knew good and well that it probably should’ve been.

He needed to just let go.

He’d die before admitting it, but knowing he’d never have a chance with her only made him want her so much more. Enough that maybe the thought took root.. Maybe he could keep stirring things up. At the very least, Reggie wouldn’t have her all to himself anymore after it all played out. ,, and anybody is better than that fucking prick Mantle.” Sweetpea shoved the thought out of his head as soon as it came, because he knew deep down it was a lie.

He wanted her. All to himself.

[perksofbeingaharrie]

PICTURE THIS - part:1

FRIENDS TO LOVERS FIC 

Hello everyone!

Heeeere is the new fic as requested by:

So this was requested really really long back and I had promised @wonderland-ish that I would start writing it as soon as I was ready. So here we are, I hope you stuck around love!

Enjoy my first ever fic. It’ll be a 5 part one - fluff and angst (ig you can now tell its my favourite genre) and a little seeexx bc we love mmhmm.

Keep safe my dear people and enjoy the fics at home, in your safe haven with some tea and biscuits. Keep warm too!

Like/rebolg and write to me as to how you liked my work! I’ll be posting part 2 tomorrow so look out for it! Lesss gooooo

Genre: Fluff, Angst, Smut

PICTURE THIS - part:1

©️perksofbeingaharrie

——

Life has been surreal since what she can remember. It began with how her father agreed to send to study photography which for years he had thrashed her about as being just a mere hobby. 3 years in college and now here at the O2 and shooting for the worldwide sensation – Harry Styles. Was she even allowed to feel this content with life ever? What was to go wrong?

She often hitched her breath thinking of such questions. But here she was, previewing her pictures on slide show mode to Helene, who sat beside her on the couch at the corner of the backstage room.

She blinks twice, thrice looking at Helene going through her pictures so concentratedly. It was all here before her in the present, truly.

“I think we can select a few from here.” Helene pops her bubble of thought that very instance. “I like this one a lot. Harry could use this for his Instagram.”

“His Instagram?” She gulps, pulling her laptop to her lap.

Helene looks up at her and smiles, matching eyes who know the feeling. “Yes. You are very good, darling. I am glad to have you on the team.”

Shuffling to pack her stuff and head home, she gets up from the couch and pulls her bag to her.

“You should come to this party Harry’s having for us.” Helene says as she gets up to her feet.

Still trying to put away her things quickly and leaving to be in the warmth of her home, Y/N looks up absolutely unprepared for such a proposal.

“Yeah, you should.” Helene insists.

“Uh, but, I don’t have an invite or anything-“

“Oh, no. Harry’s actually been wanting to meet the new photographer anyway. And it’s a small gathering, you’ll get to network well.”

Her chest swells up on hearing Helene’s words. She thinks she has some time to contemplate and then answer but Helene’s already putting away her stuff in haste and has grabbed her wrist, dragging her out of the room.

--

And it was indeed a small gathering. In fact, it was something more better termed as an ‘intimate gathering’.  The terrace top of the most expensive hotels spanning the skyline of the city hosted tonight just for the 10-15 people of the close-knit Harry Styles’s team. She definitely felt out of place a little.

Conversations died down a few drinks later and presently everybody had found each other hip to hip, swaying to the light music in the background. There were laughs and giggle around, but none of them were sincere and all in lieu of the alcohol coursing through the air.

She smiled about a little here and there, and finally with a little resolute, found her place by the bar on one of the stools, watching everyone from a distance. The one drink in her hand stayed whirling in the glass itself only. At one point she felt that the alcohol in it must have evaporated into air because she just could not feel its effect. She just could not feel its effect enough to want to let loose and join them.

She is happy anyway, watching and indulging for a while tonight amongst people she doesn’t think she’ll meet any before a year from now. She is content with the fact that after tonight she’ll be back to her daily routine, from going back and forth to her daily tid bit photography to editing and blogging and everything that she has been doing for what seems like forever.

Her mind is distant in thoughts of her home and known and she never notices when he – he, Harry Styles – comes up to stand beside her at the bar.

His deep voice drops the loudest rung in her ear as he orders his drink, and she looks up, flushed, half from the alcohol and half from an unknown embarrassment.

“You are the new photographer, aren’t you?” He says, at the same time accepting his drink from the bartender with his signature smile.

She nods, unsure of what else she could reply with so somehow they get to conversing more.

“Well, you’ve done a really good work. I liked the pictures from your camera.”

She gives a genuine smile for his genuine compliment. “Thank you. These two days have been really really wonderful for me too. I am glad I could do my work nicely.”

They silently enjoy their drinks for a while, looking across them at the night and nobody intends to break the silence. It’s awkward, but somehow, nobody says a word. She gulps the last sip of her drink not a moment later and feels the need to break away from the proximity they both stand at.

As she slides out of her seat and stands to her feet, he turns to her abruptly and gulps away the reminder of his own drink harshly.

“Do you feel like getting away from here?” He says, looking at her. “Because I really need to.”

She parts her mouth, breathing out in astonishment. “Uhm, but, this is your party? How can you leave like that?”

He points his finger towards his group at a distance. “It clearly is not the party for me. I just needed something to fill up the loneliness I feel after every concert.”

She dares to make an eye contact with him; and his green eyes look the prettiest when honest.

He leans in closer and completes his line against her ear. “And honestly, this scene just does not do.”

He begins walking backward towards the exit, his eyebrows shooting up at her as if challenging her to give in. She feels this exhilarating rush at his nab. Looking around, she does not have time to think twice or thrice and she eventually does give in.

She jogs down the stairs in a child-like haste, a sudden fear erupting in her heart that she has missed him. But as she reaches the end of the staircase, she finds him putting on a grey beanie over his lousy hair and a coat that almost covers up his chin.

“Can’t let nobody know I’m wilding out tonight.” He chuckles at his own words. She smiles, pleased, grabbing her coat from the hanger as well.

He is trudging away even before she has tied the coat around her waist and she is on the run after him.

“What are we even doing by the way?” She asks over his shoulder.

“I was thinking of some ice-cream? Let’s start from there.”

She nods earnestly, following his lead. Her clock tells her that it is almost 12 and so she doubts if there would be any ice-cream outlets open nearby. But the way his broad shoulders and long legs take on the road so knowingly, she cannot think about hesitating now.

They arrive at a cross section and wait for the signals to turn red so they can walk over to the other side. In a blink, the lights do change and she jumps forward to cross the road. A hand comes clasping around her wrist and pulls her back.

“Careful.” He says, entwining their fingers together. “Just so we are safer.”

The giddy smiles they share lightens up the night like no other.

They are walking for a long time, careful of the crowd, traffic and recognizable faces. Harry walks majority of the while with his head ducked low. He keeps a tight grip around her fingers nevertheless, tugging at places where he wants her to walk fast and constantly squeezing it too to remind her of their interlocked hands. It’s good it has happened to be winter in London or she would have sweaty palms by now and that would have been embarrassing.

They finally stop by a little tucked in shop by the roadside, and they have walked quite some distance now. She hardly looks around to be able to recognize the place before he pulls her into the shop. The little wooden doors are shut and they enter a warm, little cafeteria scarcely littered with tables and small chairs.

“I’ll take my usual, please.” His voice comes distinct in the peaceful room that she is still scanning around. “And, she would like to select.”

She looks up at him and then at the man behind the ice-cream counter. “And what is the usual?”

“Mint and chocolate.” Harry tells her, leaning his body against the cold screen.

“I think I’d like that too.”

“Right away.” The ice-cream man smiles. “Waffle cone or a cup?”

“Cone.” They say in unison.

--

“So, why photography?”

They are sitting on cold railings by a quiet parking lot, hardly any cars seen nearby. She feels like the reckless teenager again with him, running about in the city at midnight, eating ice cream when it is about to snow and hanging out in parking lots. She feels younger and much calmer than she ever would have.

She chuckles lowly, looking at her feet. “I think my answer would be the same to yours if I asked you – ‘why music?’”

He looks at her longingly for a moment, then nods and chuckles like her before. “Right.” He finishes the last of his cone and brushes his hands against his pants. “You do not enjoy talking as much, I see.”

She shakes her head, finishing her bite as well. “Not really. I just do not like making small talk. That’s the lousiest concept ever. It even more awkward than just staying quiet.”

He nods again, agreeing. “Right. I feel the same way too.”

They breathe deeply the cold air in through their nostrils.

“It kind of gets too loud sometimes where I am, you know? Even I like some silence sometimes.”

She nods, smiling. “You mean, your friends?”

He makes a face as if taking some time to think before answer. Only at the end, he chuckles and shakes his head. “Everything actually. Even the music I make.”

“I understand. Even my eyes hurt sometimes from looking at the same thing, trying to find inspiration.  I think it’s common for the creative brains.”

“True.” He nods. “But I don’t think you’ll disagree with me when I say that my friends and team are pretty loud. I mean, you didn’t look pretty interested in knowing them either. I needed a little break from that too.”

She hides her mouth as she gives a suppressed chuckle. “I am sure your friends aren’t that bad. In fact, they are really nice – they let me into the group even for a while. I just thought it might be useless to try to fit in if I am only going to be seeing them the last time tonight.”

“Oh, yeah, right.” He sighs. “But what if you were to see them more often?”

“Then, I might take some time but I’ll blend in too I guess.”

They look at one another and smile with their eyes.

“And what about the loneliness you talked about earlier? Why is that?”

He bites his lower lip, looking away in a distance. “I feel the fullest and at my best on stage. I am so energetic, so careless, so carefree performing. There’s people just loving how I am, accepting me as I am and just letting me be. When it’s all over, I am back with people who will tell me what I did, how I performed; they’ll tell me if I was good, if I was bad. I just miss being that free in real life too, y’know. I miss that feeling with all the people around. I feel-“

“-lonely in a room full of people.” She completes for him.

They share knowing smiles. His heart feels full looking over at her lips curve up. She feels the familiar warmth spread inside her.

“How about some nice hot-pot dinner to end the night?” He gets up to his full height.

She nods.

“And I think we can talk some more too.”

“Definitely.”

--

She is called in for work early the next morning. Still gorgy with sleeping only after 3 last night, she could not bother to go through the trouble to making breakfast and only grabs a bagel from the cafeteria downstairs.

She walks into the studio she was called in for, and is greeted with Helene standing at one corner setting up her camera on the pod.

“Oh, hey. Come on in.” She smiles, pulling out a folder from the corner desk and walks over to her.

“Hi, yeah, you called in so suddenly?”

“So, uhm,” She opens the folder and flips through a few pages. “We were hoping if you would like to join us for the tour?”

“Wha-“ She feels the folder on her palms. It is a contract that would sign in her in as Harry’s team for the entirety of the year round tour. She looks up from the contract at Helene and then back at the contract.

The door behind her chimes again and enters Harry, rubbing his palms together for warmth.

“So,” he says. “Is she joining us for the tour or not?”

Her eyes widen. He grins at her reaction, raising his eyebrows at her in the challenging stance he would do. She bites her lower lip and suppresses a grin but it is hard when she feels her heart could burst at the very moment.

---------

PART 2   o    MASTERLIST   o  PART 3  o  PART 4

[starker-stories]

Our Turn

Also on AO3

There was a post. It yielded this story. There’s not exactly spitroasting, but we hope it’ll fit the bill.

itfeelssogoodmrstark Can I get Peter being spitroasted by Tony and SIM!Tony. Or Tony and Tony’s Ironman suit, bye.

Tagging the inspiration-er: @itfeelssogoodmrstark​

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By @thestarkerisobvious​ and @starker-stories​

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This is a Messages Interlude to the Messages series. The same versions of Peter & Tony as in those stories. But not a part of the run of the series. The Interludes are little bits of (usually) PWP written just for fun, because we can't get enough of this version of them. 

 Our Turn is a direct sequel to Your Turn. It can, however, be read as a stand-alone Interlude.

Tags: Bondage, Armor Kink, Anal Sex, Anal Fingering, Finger Sucking, Aftercare, Established Relationship, Tony Stark Still Has Arc Reactor, Iron Man Armor

‘What does that feel like’ Peter had asked. When the question was posed, Tony simply answered with a smirk rather than an immediate demonstration. Leave the kid hanging. Leave him wondering if it would happen. Leave him wondering when it would happen. Leave him wondering ‘what does that feel like’.

He’d answer the occasional question about the situation. Though never too detailed. The requests for details were met with that same knowing smirk.

“Bend me over a table first, Tony, I’ve never done it that way,” he whispered, more than once, when Tony headed them toward the bed, but Tony always managed to say no.

“Already shut the lab down for the night. Gonna have to wait a while longer,” Tony said, putting the question off again.

Another time when Peter had been asking questions again, in the middle of his unanswered questions, Peter suddenly stopped to ask, “Wait! Tony… what if I break the table?”

“That possibility has already been considered, Parker.”

Peter never gave up. But then maybe that was because it had been almost two weeks and it still hadn’t happened.

“So how much information does the suit actually give you, other than what damage it’s taking? I mean I assume you don’t let it feed you information about pain, that wouldn’t be helpful.”

“Actually, it’s very helpful. Lets you know how much damage and resistance is left. So yeah. Pain sensors are included. FRIDAY reports many different kinds of external sensations.

“Reports the sensations. So it’s not like you’re feeling them yourself.”

Tony gave a sideways shrug of his head. With a little shake or nod… it was hard to figure out which.

“So if you were blind, assuming you could be, could you feel your way through a tunnel? That’s a stupid question I guess you have other sensors.

“You could, like, pet a cat, and tell it was soft, or something?”

“What about hot and cold? I assume you don’t want to know how cold it is when you’re flying…”

Having answered one sensation question, none of the others were. Let the kid wonder exactly what ‘reports sensation’ might mean.

They were in the lab the next time it was mentioned. “You won’t have to be gentle, when you do it, you know. I’m not really not a virgin this time…” Peter said with a wink.

“You’ll be in my lab, my lab table. I’ll be as gentle or as rough as I like.” But then, after having made it sound like it was about to happen, Tony opened a new project file and buried himself in the details of it, working until almost dawn.

After a week Peter asked the question one more time. They were in the shower before bed and he boldly turned his back to Tony, balanced himself against the wall and began to walk his hands down, utilizing his acrobatic skills and shamelessly presenting his ass. When he was at a perfect ninety degree angle he turned back and looked playfully over his shoulder. “You never bent me over the lab table, you know. And you promised.”

The sex was good that night, but no more mention of the table was had. Peter turned it over in his mind after Tony had fallen asleep. Was it possible he was being annoying? Tony never seemed unhappy with his questions, but he also never offered to do the specific thing Peter was asking for. He didn’t like asking Tony for things more than once (and in bed he never had to ask twice.) Either Tony was on board with something, or he wasn’t, and if he wasn’t, Peter let it drop. Maybe sex-over-a-table was something Tony had in the past and didn’t enjoy? He was well aware that Tony had very specific opinions about angles and sex. And being a good lover, well, that had always been Tony’s top priority. In any case, Peter wasn’t going to nag.

He was a little disappointed about the table, however. Tony was his first and only lover, and if Tony never fucked him over a lab table, no one would.

No more questions had been asked for almost three days. No assumptions put forth. No teasing. Peter did tend to have a little sad puppy face, though, when he would look over at the table Tony was using to poke around at a bit of holographic projection.

He was working on a holographic wireframe of the suit, down near where the boot’s foot joined the leg. It was enlarged to see the details. But apparently not enlarged enough. Tony looked over at the workstation they’d set up for Peter to do his school experiments on.

“Pete, can you get your hand into this wireframe, right about here?” Tony asked, pointing to a narrow opening in the design that was low, close to the table.

Peter squeezed in between him and the hologram. Did he push his ass against his lover, just a little bit? No of course he didn’t. Okay maybe a little. The hour was getting late, after all.

“Tease. We’re working. I need your hand in this bit here,” Tony said, pointing over to the left side, making Peter need to turn his head in that direction, almost tilted upside down looking up at a joint just out of reach.

“If you move in from the front with your right hand… no… like this.” He put his hand on Peter’s right wrist, moving it into position.

Cold metal fingers closed around his left wrist.

Peter reacted instantly, yanking his wrist away and attempting to jump into a more defensive position (usually when he was attacked it was from the north-eastern corner of the room. He never knew why. But over the years, no matter how much he had changed, he still preferred to observe before attacking.)

The suit moved with him, but did not release his wrist. Metal fingers closed over Peter’s right shoulder, pinning him down to the table.

“Tony?” He asked, mildly alarmed. He had heard of, but never witnessed, the suit attacking when it mistook a Tony-nightmare for an attack, and the story of Rhodey’s hacked-suit was legendary.

“Yeah?” Tony asked as he reached to the front of Peter’s pants, giving a hard pull on either side of the button and zipper, popping one and tearing the other. Another quick tug and the jeans were tangled around Peter’s ankles.

“Tone— oh… oh…”

Boxers found their way to the floor next, leaving Peter’s ass exposed to the cool air of the room. The suit’s hand moved from Peter’s wrist to his other shoulder.

Peter’s brain put two and two together rather quickly. His body, on the other hand, seemed satisfied with gaping, his eyes as wide as saucers, his heart pounding so hard he could hear it. One hand was still on the table, held there with an iron grip. His other arm flailed about for purchase, but he was unable to rise enough to find it. The suit’s second hand was holding him down to the table, and suddenly he found himself panicking and he cried out…

“Tony? Tony?! I’ll break the table!”

Tony chuckled. “Don’t you think that someone with a vibranium-reinforced bed would’ve already thought about that possibility?

“You’re going exactly nowhere that I don’t want you to go.”

“But… wait, the table? When did you… oh god…” Even as his brain calculated calmly (Tony’s putting him off constantly, Tony getting the table installed, Tony’s ruse with the wireframe, damn that man was good), his body continued to behave as if he were in a fight. His free arm found its way around and now he had the suit’s wrist in his grip… oh god, was he really wrestling with the suit? While naked? This was some strange fantasy-turned-wet-dream come true. If only he could stop fighting, but his body didn’t seem to be taking orders. He didn’t want to get free, after all… he had been waiting for this for so damn long. His legs, at least, were obeying — as long as he didn’t engage those muscles he could cooperate. Could stay obediently in this position and let Tony fuck him hard just like they had planned. If only Tony would give him a little bit of time to adjust…

Peter felt a pair of flat-bottomed scissors at the hem of his shirt and as Tony moved his hand up Peter’s back, his shirt began to be cut away. Straight up over his spine, then down each sleeve, until it lay on the table loose under him. A tug from Tony’s hand pulled the cut fabric away.

Tony gave a kick to one of Peter’s ankles, spreading his legs wide to one side, untangling his pants at the same time, leaving Peter completely naked.

“No Tony please!”

“No?” Tony asked skeptically. A metal cuff emerged from the table leg and closed around Peter’s ankle.

His yelp would have been a scream but he didn’t have enough air. Oh this was bad. This was very bad.

The knock against his leg had sent it into fight-mode and the cuff just made it worse. Now his brain AND body were creating joint plans. Vibranium or no vibranium, the weakest joint of the table was easily within reach and the suit wasn’t even TRYING to secure that hand and that table leg would make an excellent weapon no wait he didn’t want to wield a weapon, he’d kill Tony!

While Peter was struggling with his right ankle, it meant his left was holding himself upright. Which meant that it took Tony barely a push to knock the kid off balance and finish spreading his legs wide, the other ankle cuffed to the other leg of the table. Which took away any leverage Peter could achieve — wait, did he actually start to bend the middle of the vibranium table leg!?

Peter closed his eyes tight and squeezed down on the suit’s wrist and he tried to focus. He wanted this, had wanted this since the first time it had occurred to his little horny adolescent brain that being fingered by the suit would be so much hotter than playing with a sex-toy.

It didn’t work. Nothing was working, and his heart was hammering so hard he was afraid it would dent the table…

That gave him an idea.

“I’m caught between an Iron Man suit and a vibranium table, and I’m going to break one of them, Tony. Which one’s cheaper?”

That was good. That was like the banter he usually had with the bad guys, the kind that kept it light and reminded everyone there were non-violent ways out of the encounter. Reminding his body he wasn’t really in any danger.

“Out of date Mark. The 47. I built it able to withstand the shield, but go right ahead kid. Give it your best shot.”

Sending up a prayer that the table wouldn’t break (he had been looking forward to being taken while bent over a table for so long!) he strained to lift his right hand, lifting both it and the suit. An inch and a half off the table. There was no advantage of course, he was just making a point.

“I don’t want to break your suit, old man. It will hurt your feelings… wait…”

He managed to turn his head and feign a look back in Tony’s direction (all a ruse, he just needed to buy time. Still, it was working.)

“Where is your headset?”

“In my body. Haven’t needed that since the Mark 50. Of course I coded it to react with any of the old suits. Never know when you might need one to pin a little Spiderling to a table,” Tony said with a smug grin. One-handed, he pulled his t-shirt over his head by the back of its collar and tossed it away.

Tony’s snark was exactly what he needed. He could banter with Tony all day, it was second nature. Now, moving to turn his head felt less panicky. If only his heart would stop pounding…

“It’s heavy…” he said lifting his right hand off the table again, only by an inch, just to prove he could. Knowing that helped a little too. “How much does it weigh again?”

“Not much at all. Only twenty-five pounds,” Tony said, pushing Peter’s wrist back down to the table.

“Oh… bad. Breakable. Damn Tony you should have broken out those real old-fashioned ones… those big clunker ones, those before-I-was-born ones… I’m an old-fashioned kind of guy.” This was working. Pushing the suit and being pushed back was less like an attack and more like bedplay. He turned his head again and tried to concentrate on the suit’s wrist in his grip. He tried to stop squeezing, stopped trying to dig his fingers in to dent it, and tried to concentrate on the feel of it under his hand. This was the suit, and Peter had fantasized about it for so long. If only he could keep Tony talking…

“You were born before all of them. Even the Mark 1. Besides, the Mark 2 only weighed about thirty-five. Miniaturized tech. Composite alloys. Fancy stuff that they don’t teach kids about.” Tony popped open the button on his jeans and slid the zipper down. He let his pants fall down over his hips and stepped out of them.

“Is that all the fight you have in you, Parker?” Tony said with a smirk when Peter looked back at him again. Something cold and wet trickled down the crack of Peter’s ass and dripped off of the tip of his cock onto the floor.

“Fight it? I was hoping it would fuck me first.”

Peter heard the sound of two quick, sharp taps from behind him. Immediately he recognized the sound — Tony was engaging the arc reactor, but why? Now there was an almost silent whisper of metal on metal, something Peter’s spidersenses heard clearly, but Peter didn’t understand.

Until he felt the metal finger. There.

“Gotta open you up first before I fuck you.” More lube running down. Followed by something hard and dry and large teasing around his opening.

It was the last thing Peter had expected, and did nothing to convince his body he wasn’t in mortal danger.

He lifted his right hand from the table, not to get free but to interact, again, with this second lover, to think about those second pair of hands as Tony’s hands. Moving the hand gave him an idea. He began struggling with his right hand, just enough to keep the suit occupied, but not enough to remind his body he was in panic mode. Then, using the suit’s grip to pull against, jerked his body sharply to the right, sliding the suit’s hand with him.

He was still pinned to the table, but now he could turn his head and look directly into the suit’s face. The face of his dreams. The face of his most secret, never-confessed fantasies. (He might as well look at the suit-face. It felt, for the moment, that he was being fucked by it.)

Peter felt Tony’s right hand tighten just a little on his hip and the suit’s right hand pressed harder down on his wrist with a mechanical whir. A sound he’d heard before. The suit’s grip was applying power to hold him in place. and Peter’s traitorous brain made some quick calculations against his will. He had always assumed the suits were packing more punch than the Winter Soldier’s arm (after all the suit had two arms, and the assassin only had one) and for a moment it flashed across his mind that he might not have to worry about breaking the suit at all.

Not that it mattered. He had his face exactly where he wanted it now, and he was grinning. Feeling Tony’s hand tighten on his body was all he needed to remind himself where he was and why he was there.

He was more in control now — he hadn’t caught his breath and his heart was still pounding but suddenly he realized that was okay too. Tony could fuck him if he was breathless. Tony could fuck him with his heart pounding. It had been a very, very long time since he’d felt this sensation with Tony, this butterflies-on-crack sensation, but dammit, he had felt this way before before. And he remembered enjoying it.

“Please tell me I’m getting fucked by the suit tonight,” he managed, with what air he had. He couldn’t sound bold so he just grinned and hoped that would suffice. “Please tell me that’s why you chose this one… that this is the sex one.”

Tony pushed his smooth, nanotech finger inside Peter. “I told you, no one but me gets to fuck you.” He didn’t move his finger in and out, but instead moved it in a circle, pushing against Peter’s rim, stretching him wider.

“Jealous. You can’t even share me with your suit?” Peter began, but his words died in his mouth when he realized what Tony was doing.

“Jealous,” Tony confirmed. “Baby, I don’t even share you with myself.”

With the tech around it, his one finger was as thick as two would’ve been. “You’re so tight. Feel warm. Never did tell you what I meant by ‘reporting’, did I. Don’t need FRIDAY to do that for me.”

“…oh Tony,” Peter moaned. He tried to clamp down his mouth on the words but it was too late. He didn’t want to stop the banter just yet. Dammit the banter was the only thing he could control!

“Just how many nights did little Peter Parker stare up at that poster jerking off and imagine…” a second finger slid in next to the first “…the suit inside of him.”

He wanted to answer, to open his eyes again, wanted to smile up at the suit and flirt with it, wanted to make some comment about a gang-bang and something about ‘inappropriate use of Stark Tech’. But Tony was fingering him (and Tony could finger him better than most men could fuck) and more importantly, Tony was fingering him with the tech. Just the idea left Peter breathless. Tony had said something, had fed him a line, was waiting for a reply. But right now Peter was just trying not to whimper.

Two fingers were thick. But then, without a third added, they somehow became thicker. Almost as thick as Tony’s cock. He felt the smooth texture of the nanotech and his eyes went wide when he realized it was growing inside him. Somewhere a quiet part of his brain congratulated Tony on utilizing his expert knowledge of Peter’s body to create the perfect sex toy.

The rest of his brain, unfortunately, was headed right back into fight mode. He could just feel the quiet part of his mind sadly waving goodbye.

He couldn’t stop. He began to struggle helplessly with the hand holding him down. Trying to use the suit’s grip to pull himself further to the right no longer worked — the suit was wise to that move — and fighting the leg restraints only brought his predicament more sharply into focus. He could probably take the table apart, or at least rearrange the shape, but then what? He would still have the suit on top of him, and he was finally beginning to realize there wasn’t much he could do about that.

The two thickened fingers curled down and found the sensitive place inside Peter. And didn’t stop. Not when Peter started whimpering. Not when Peter started panting. Not even when Peter fell into his ‘ohgodTony’ moans.

But then the sounds Peter made went from moans into a hiss. His hips were twisting away from Tony’s fingers and he was fighting against the suit in earnest now, his face in a grimace. Now his teeth were clenched and he wasn’t pushing his hand up in the suit’s grip, he was trying to wrench free, his left foot sometimes struggling against the restraints and pulling up the leg of the table, sometimes flexing in the other direction, as if trying to push the table leg back into shape.

Tony didn’t remove his fingers but held them still. His other hand settled low on Peter’s back, spread wide, warm, solid. “Baby, shhh, shhh. Don’t hurt yourself. You can’t break free on your own. It’s impossible. But all you have to do is tell me plainly to stop. And I will stop. Then tell me which thing to stop. Tell me what you need, Peter.” Tony waited for Peter to be able to answer. “I’ll do whatever you need.”

Peter forced himself to freeze. Freeze and breathe. That meant breathing through clenched teeth, breathing while he moaned, but it was a start. He concentrated on Tony’s hand touching his back. If he had a hand free he would have reached for it. But without that, he had to speak.

“Just keep touching me,” he whispered. Whimpered. He hated the sound of his broken voice, hated the fact that he was begging, hated the humiliation he felt when he heard how small and broken he sounded. Still, Tony responded immediately.

Tony ran his hand down from the edge of his suit’s hand on Peter’s shoulder all the way back down to the center of his lower back and held it there. “You have me. It’s all me, baby, except on your ankles. Do you need that released? Because that’s the only part touching you that isn’t me. I can feel you twice on my hands. Where my forearm is resting across your shoulders, I can feel the warmth of your body even if it feels to you that my arm that isn’t touching you anywhere.

Breathing was becoming easier. Tony’s voice made it easier, and the suit hadn’t moved at all when Tony started talking. As he spoke, the presence of his words made Peter’s body relax in ways his own brain simply couldn’t. It was still in fight mode, but now it seemed to be in fight-WITH-Tony mode and that was far better considering the man’s fingers were in his ass.

“Keep your legs still, baby.”

“I can’t Tony…”

The Mark 42, his rebuilt Prodigal Son, stepped away from the wall. At the sound of its footsteps Peter shivered, until it dropped down to its knees and crawled underneath the table. Each hand wrapped around Peter’s lower calf.

“I’m touching you there. I can feel the strain of your muscles. You’re so strong.” The table’s restraints released and the suit’s hands moved to replace them.

“Better, baby?

“I c… I can’t… I… it’s just… I need…” He panted and tried again.

“Your face,” Peter said finally, and when he spoke, he was calm. He swallowed hard, but as he said it, he relaxed a little, knowing how true it was. It was something he needed, and Tony would give him what he needed. “It’s your face, I can’t see your face. I need to see you.”

The Mark 47 moved its grip from Peter’s shoulder to pressing firmly but gently between his shoulder blades. Peter was still pinned, but if he turned his head, he could see Tony standing behind him.

“I’m right here, Pete. I’m pretty much everywhere,” he said with a little smile. “And I can feel you everywhere I’m touching you.”

 “That doesn’t feel like your fingers.”

“It feels like your ass,” he said with a smirk. “Tight and hot and pulsing around me. I can feel you everywhere at least a little, but the nanotech transmits every sensation if I want it to.”

“Can you feel this?” Peter asked, reaching back to grip, again, the wrist that was pinning him down. He also flexed against the other hand holding his wrist, not to break free, but to feel it move with him. The way Tony and he moved together in bed.

“Um hmm. I feel two touches on each of my wrists. You’re holding the one with your hand and the other you’re pushing up on. I could tell that with my eyes closed.”

“And you can feel this?” Peter asked, moving his legs in the grip of the second suit, even though Tony had already told him. This was so much better, feeling the six hands on him, and while his heart was still pounding in anticipation of what was to come, he felt safer, more grounded Tony was holding him with three pairs of hands. He felt less like a trapped animal, more like the center of attention. Like something precious.

As Peter tested the way he was being held, each hand gripped in response to his movement. When he pushed his ass back against Tony’s fingers, tightening and loosening around the nanotech, Tony slid them deeper inside. “Greedy,” he teased.

“Always,” Peter answered automatically, but he was still taking stock. As long as he kept moving, kept telling himself ‘Three pairs of hands, he’s making love to me with three pairs of hands’, he might be all right.

The fingers inside him didn’t even feel invasive now, although he still longed to feel Tony’s actual fingers on him. He flexed against the other four hands holding him down, reminding himself of their weight, of their force. He couldn’t stop himself. As sweet as Tony’s voice sounded his head just wouldn’t stop calculating. But they weren’t just binding, they were Tony touching him, and that wasn’t something he wanted to control. That was something he wanted to keep.

“Still only counts as lust though.” Tony moved his nanite covered fingers in and out, spreading them wider.

“Shhhhh… don’t list your sins around the suits.”

He slowly closed his other hand, the warm one, around Peter’s cock, and crooked his fingers again, but only as he pushed in, not when he pulled them back, massaging.

“Was listing yours. FRIDAY doesn’t know what a naughty, messy boy you can be.”

“Ohnodon’tTonyI… oh… do you want me to…?“

“Do I want you to make a mess on my lab table?”

Peter could only whimper in response, gooseflesh breaking out all over his body. His eyes were closed again and he felt close to tears. He would have turned his face away to hide it in the table the way he used to hide it in the bed. But Tony had trained him better than that. He lay his face flat on the cool surface of the table and pushed his body towards Tony’s fingers as best he could.

Tony’s hand stopped stroking Peter’s shaft and instead, palmed the dripping precome over the head until he felt the kid right on the edge. He let go of his cock. And retracted the nanotech from around his fingers. Leaving only warmth inside of him. Warm fingers who knew exactly where all of Peter’s most sensitive areas were aside from the obvious.

“Go on, baby. Make my workstation messy. I wanna remember what it looks like with your come dripping down it every time I look at it.”

That warmth, the warmth of Tony’s real fingers, were all he really needed. Then Tony’s words sent him completely over the edge. That quiet, logical part of his brain marked the occasion. Usually it took a bit of serious pounding before Tony could make him come on command, but this? This was a completely different level. He shouted as he came, his fingers digging into the suit arm’s wrist that was holding him down.

He wondered vaguely if he left marks on it.

Before Peter finished coming. Before the after-quakes even set in, Tony slowly pushed in, feeling him part around him despite how his coming made him want to close up. Peter hadn’t gone down when Tony started fucking him in long, slow, steady strokes.

Peter relaxed completely, floating on sensation. Tony had three pairs of hands holding him and right now it felt like heaven. His mouth hung open helplessly.

The suit’s fingers could move gently as well as hold tightly. The hand moved from between Peter’s shoulder blades, the kid was so relaxed, he wouldn’t be able to struggle. Tony ran that hand through Peter’s sweat soaked hair. He caressed down the side of Peter’s face, cupping his cheek. Then traced the edges of Peter’s flushed red lips with a metal fingertip.

Both of his hands held Peter’s hips as he kept fucking him. The Mark 42's hands left Peter’s ankles and slid up the inside of his legs until they were holding his thighs gently parted so Tony could get inside deeper. He heard Peter whimper and saw him flinch, but he didn’t stop them. Instead of holding apart, putting force there, the suit’s hands gently massaged Peter’s quivering muscles, strained from being held down to the table legs.

Tony started fucking faster, but just as steady. Leaving Peter’s unconscious senses able to anticipate him. “Baby, you’re being so good for us.”

Peter’s eyes went wide at the idea. Being ‘good’ for Tony was all he wanted in these moments. The words lit up every body in his body. But being ‘good for us?’ He wasn’t sure if he was terrified or turned on to the power of three.

The suit’s fingers gently massaged up and then down Peter’s thighs. The fingers near his mouth pressed down on the swell of his bottom lip, parting them and teasing just a little, seeking entry. The hand holding his wrist stopped pinning to the table and closed around it, fingertips against his pulse. All the while Tony kept fucking Peter.

“That’s it, Pete. Just like that. Let go. Give it to me. All of me. Everywhere.”

Peter moaned. Tony’s cock inside him was amazing, of course, but just at this moment he was moaning in exquisite relief.

In simpler times, when Tony had him like this, obedience to Tony’s commands was almost impossible. Tony had told him to relax, and so he did. And just like that, his body agreed to stop fighting. It was still calculating… Tony hadn’t ordered him to stop thinking after all… but for the moment his heart stopped pounding and his lungs were filling with blissful, heavenly oxygen.

He was also vaguely aware that there were now fingers in his mouth, but that was hardly a problem.

Tony, fully in control of the Mark 47’s finger in Peter’s mouth, pressed down gently on the kid’s tongue, making him open wider. When he did, a second finger slipped in, then both moved out until only the first joint was in Peter’s mouth, avoiding choking or too much pressure. Just enough that Tony could feel the warmth of Peter’s mouth. He wished he could feel more. The wetness. The texture. The movement of the boy’s tongue. Clearly the Mark 47, while older and rarely used, needed upgrading. But Peter didn’t need to know how much sensation he did or didn’t have in those fingers.

“Go on, Pete. I wanna feel that sweet mouth on my fingers.” Tony flexed his fingers that held onto Peter’s hips, without letting the movement be transmitted to the suit. Implying that he could feel on them what the kid was doing. Dammit… he wanted to feel it. The fingers in his mouth retreated, only to be replaced by the nanotech covered fingers on Tony’s own hand as he reached up. “That’s it, baby. Now I can feel you.”

“Mmmm?” Peter questioned, unable to speak (his mouth was full) but eager to please. Soon he realized that Tony’s fingers were in his mouth for a reason, and Tony had told him to suck. He obeyed.

The older Mark 42’s hands reached up to the juncture of Peter’s thighs and Peter tensed immediately, whimpering, his eyes going wide. He bit down on Tony’s fingers and began struggling again against the hands beneath the table, even when the hands began gently nudging his legs further apart. He knew what his lover wanted, it was Tony dammit, what he wanted was obvious. But like the leg clamps, every movement toward his legs sent his body right back into fight mode.

“Shhh, baby. I have you. You’re being so good for me. Need you to relax though.That’s it, Pete. I know you can do it. For me.” Tony altered his stance. He fucked down and then in, scraping across Peter’s sweet spot.

Peter’s teeth let go of the fingers. He didn’t pull his mouth away. It hung slack as Tony fucked him thoroughly. He couldn’t move at all. He wasn’t sure he would ever move again. He wished he could speak — could tell Tony how incredible it felt now, with Tony’s cock hitting him right there. But he knew he’d never be able to speak (all he’d get out was “ohgodTony” anyway) so he did the only other thing he could think of. He took the fingers deep into his mouth, down to the knuckle, and began sucking again.

That was incredible. Tony groaned low in his throat as Peter’s tongue lapped at the underside of his two fingers in his mouth. It was like fucking the kid and having him go down on him at the same time.

“I can feel you… both places… the same in both.” Tony’s words broke into a moan as the dual sensations merged in the pleasure centers of his brain. “No difference, baby. Fuck,” Tony moaned with pleasure. “It gives me everything about you.”

Peter was responding beautifully. His breathing was settled into regular panting, with small, little moans around Tony’s nanite covered fingers. The kid was enjoying himself, clearly. The build up nice and slow and regular. Tony could make him come that way. Hold out for a half an hour, letting Peter rise to a languid orgasm. Or he could do that.

Tony broke his rhythm and fucked faster, irregularly, then he pushed in sharply, angled straight across the boy’s prostate.

Peter whimpered and forgot about the fingers in his mouth for a moment. Then remembered what Tony wanted, and began sucking once again.

Tony took his fingers out of Peter’s mouth. They were slick with spit and moved softly over the kid’s lips. Feeling the tender skin, tracing the line, touching the corners. He knew that the nanotech had the capability of transmitting far more sensation that he let through during the normal course of battle. He didn’t exactly want to feel every hit he took. But he wanted to feel Peter. Every touch was like with his fingers, only… different in just enough of a way. Transmitted through a metal filter. He could feel the warmth of Peter’s skin and the cool metal of his suit.

Fucking irregularly wasn’t right enough to get either of them off. But the sounds that Peter made because he couldn’t anticipate what would happen next… those were more than satisfying. Little gasps. Sharp little yelps. Breathless ‘oh’. Never enough to fall into the more desperate ‘ohgodTony’ that Peter was so known for and always made Tony smile.

And then he stopped completely. Held halfway in. Leaving him wanting for either the sensation of being filled or entered.

Peter lay helpless on the table, eyes half closed, brain half-off, relaxing in the six hands that held him. He missed the fingers when they left his mouth, he loved the taste of them, so much like the metal around Tony’s arc reactor but different, but he didn’t move to get them back. Tony wanted to stroke his lips with his fingers now, so that’s what Peter wanted too.

But then something changed. It took him several seconds to register what it was. Tony was there, but he wasn’t moving. Peter tried moving backward, towards his lover’s body only to feel four metal hands and two hands of warm flesh holding him still.

Tony felt Peter try to push back. “Oh baby. Haven’t you figured it out by now?” The suit’s hands holding his upper thighs held Peter gently but firmly against the side of the table. “You’re not the one in control of your body this time. I am.”

He kept himself unmoving at that halfway point. “What do you want, Peter?” Tony asked.

Peter moaned. His eyes were wide now, no longer relaxed. The reminder of the suits, of what the suits could do to him (of what the suits had done to him) was lighting up his brain like a Christmas tree. But he couldn’t speak. Just now he no longer remembered the English language.

“So what you’re saying, by not saying, is that you want me to pull out and finish across your back? Feel my come all hot on your skin?”

“NonononoTony…” That was good. Those were two words he remembered.

“Then tell me what you want, baby.”

“No Tony please…” he begged. Three words. Three words were probably the best he could do.

“You want me to just stop, let go of you, pull up my pants and wait until we’re in bed tonight to finish?”

“Nonono… no… Tony…” He was close to tears. He fought to breathe. He knew what he needed to keep breathing, and he managed to say it out loud.

“I need you to keep touching me.”

Tony took one hand off Peter’s hips and ran it up his back. “There, baby. I’m touching you,” he said, changing nothing else.

Peter could breathe again. Just like that. He closed his eyes and focused on Tony’s skin against his skin, focused on the sensation of Tony touching his body. As long as he had that, he could function.

“Is that all you want, Peter?”

Peter found himself nodding. This was good. If Tony was touching him, he could think again. He was an intelligent human being, and Tony’s lover for more than two years. He could express himself with this man. He could actually express himself rather well. They were good together. He took a deep, calming breath, and turned his head enough to look back into Tony’s face.

“I need you to keep touching me. I want you to keep fucking me.”

Tony ran his hands, both of them now, over Peter’s back, down his sides, over the rise of his ass. “You want me to keep fucking you?” he asked.

“Please, yes. It feels so good, Tony.”

Peter took another breath. “And I know it feels good to you too.”

“How, Peter?”

“Oh… just…” Peter tried to move his body to demonstrate, but encountered two pairs of unmovable hands. He didn’t let his body react this time, he forced himself to stay calm. He swallowed hard.

It was a difficult mental problem, and difficult mental problems didn’t come along often for Peter Parker. He took it as a challenge. One he was ready to meet.

“Slow and steady?”

That wasn’t good enough. He wriggled a bit underneath the suit’s hand, then tossed his head a little to move sweaty curls out of his eyes. It was all to better see Tony (but it was also to buy time, making it easy to speak.)

“I know what I really want. What I really want is to know what you want. But what I want is slow and steady. Until I tell you to go faster. With your hands on my waist like you did. It feels amazing.”

“Yes it does feel amazing. Having you tight and hot around me,” Tony said. The suit’s hands on Peter’s legs slid down lower on his thighs, holding more comfortably. It was Tony’s hands on Peter’s waist that held him still.

“Just don’t let go…”

“Never,” he said as he returned to the long, slow strokes he’d been using before. Long, slow pressure inside of him.

“Promise.”

“Always, baby. Never letting go of you.”

“Your hands. I just need to feel your hands.”

All six hands moved slightly on Peter’s skin. But the two that belonged to Tony soothed over Peter’s sides again, settling on his waist, his thumbs sliding across Peter’s back.

“Am I yours, Tony?”

“Peter, if you think I’d ever let you go… or even share you… not ever going to happen baby. Not ever. You’re mine. No getting out of that. Not gonna let you go.” Tony bent over Peter’s back and put a kiss just above where his thumbs met around Peter’s narrow waist.

“Say it again.”

Tony smiled as he slowly rocked into Peter. “You’re mine. But the question is, baby… Am I yours?”

“Oh yes, yes. Let me move my hand… please?” He wiggled the fingers of his right hand, still firmly held down by the wrist.

“You can move your left hand.” He eased the hand that was pinning Peter down in between his shoulders over a little to the right, giving the boy more movement. “Both hands?” Tony said with a quirk of his eyebrow. “Greedy.” The Mark 47’s hand moved from Peter’s wrist to his forearm. “Now you can move your right hand.”

“But I want to touch you.”

“You can’t touch me with your left?”

Peter moved his left hand to grasp the suit by the wrist again, holding it solidly.

“That’s it, Pete. I can feel your hand on my wrist.” He kept his rhythm steady but only marginally increased his speed… before he’d been asked to.

“You’re going to come inside me, Tony,” Peter said dreamily, his eyes fluttering closed. “I want to hold you when you come inside me.”

“I will, you will. But not until you make my desk messy again.”

“NononoTony don’t…” Peter shuddered gooseflesh breaking out weakly on his arms and legs. He found himself almost sobbing at the idea. “I can’t again…”

The suit let go of Peter’s right forearm and cupped underneath his head, tenderly lifting and turning the boy slightly to face him over his shoulder. Peter’s hand followed it, gripping it firmly at the wrist.

“You can. And I wanna see you when you do.” He bent over Peter’s back again and kissed him there. “I wanna watch those beautiful eyes flutter shut. Wanna watch them open again when it feels too good. Wanna watch those lips part and gasp. Wanna see that face blushed pink. Your hair fall into sweaty curls.”

As Tony spoke, he fucked a little harder, a little faster, a little more directly on each word. “And then…” His hand replaced the suit’s hand in the middle of Peter’s back. “I wanna feel you clench around me… when you come.”

Peter let go of the suit’s wrist and wrapped his arm around his face, moaning and keening. The things Tony was saying would have made him come already but coming twice? This was difficult. He wasn’t sure he could, and he wasn’t sure what it would mean if he couldn’t.

The suit gently moved Peter’s arm from hiding his face. “Nuh uh, baby. Gotta see you. You didn’t hide last time, no hiding this time.”

“I can’t Tony.” Peter lay his face against the table, not hiding, not moving.

“I’m so close… fuck Pete,” Tony gasped. The Mark 47’s hand slid from under Peter’s head and both hands gripped his shoulders, pinning Peter. “God, baby… you’re…” His words failed him. “You’re everywhere.”

Tony dropped his own hand underneath Peter and began stroking his cock. “You have me so close… so close… Be good for me, baby,” Tony moaned, his tone desperate. He struggled to speak. He was always able to talk. The patter he kept up, dirty or tender, during sex was his thing.

Peter wanted to obey. Wanted it so badly. Tony’s hand felt so good, but he needed more. He turned his head weakly and looked back into his lover’s face.

“Does it feel good for you Tony?” he whispered, hating the breathless sound of his voice, speaking anyway. “Am I tight for you?”

His control faltered at the kid’s finding his voice as Tony lost his. But when Peter looked back at him, when he saw those eyes… his faltering control broke entirely. The hand he had on Peter’s hip tightened. As did the four hands controlled by his mind. Looking at Peter’s shoulders, he saw deep, dark purple-black bruises flower almost instantly. He let his grip on the boy’s hip lighten, and the suits’ followed, loosening just enough not to leave any more bruises.

In control of the suits again, he pulled back on Peter’s shoulders, moving him down further on his cock, buried all the way into his heat.

Peter screamed as he came, sobbing and shouting wordlessly, his throat straining. But he didn’t fight the hands. He was beyond fighting. He was helpless here. Completely helpless.

And, for the first time, that was all right.

They came as close together as two people could. Tony followed almost immediately when Peter cried out. He fell, stretched out across the kid’s back. Peter was still held by his four metal hands, but a warm metal circle pressed against his back. Peter could feel the hum of the arc reactor against his skin, its vibration faster and stronger than he’d ever felt it before.

“Oh, Peter,” Tony moaned, his breath warm across Peter’s back. “So good. My perfect… my perfect treasure… the most precious thing in my trophy case. Mine.” A soft kiss followed his breath. “Only mine. Always mine.”

Tony slowly stood, leaving a trail of kisses, on still broken breaths, down Peter’s back. His hands followed his lips, caressing, spread wide, with an easy pressure. Grounding. The Mark 42, now a little messy from Peter’s come dripping off the side of the table, stopped holding Peter’s legs. The hands slid slowly down them, gentling their way, until on reaching Peter’s ankles, they gave a tighter little hold, reminding him of where they’d started and why. Then they released him entirely.

The more skilled hands of the Mark 47 loosened but did not release Peter’s forearms. Tony stepped back just a little, sliding free from Peter, leaving a trail of his come running down the boy’s thigh.

“You were so good for me,” Tony said, with an awestruck tone. Peter had overwhelmed his senses. “Speechless, Pete. You took away all my words. All my thoughts. All except for one. He bent over one more time, kissing the small of Peter’s back. “I love you. That thought never leaves me.” The suit’s hands followed where Tony’s had been, stroking down Peter’s back, then up it to rest lightly across the back of his chest.

“I’m going to carry you to me.” Bending down, the suit lifted Peter into a bridal carry. Tony combed his fingers through Peter’s hair. His damp curls tangled around Tony’s fingers, as he eased his head to rest on the suit’s chest. He wasn’t ready to let go yet. He still needed to touch his boy. He let his hand drop from Peter’s head, trailing over his shoulder, down his arm, to his hand, to his fingertips, then finally leaving him. “It’s all right, Pete. I’m here. I’m bringing you with me.”

Peter’s eyes went wide when the suit gathered him up in iron arms. His breath was shaky and he trembled slightly. He moaned a little when Tony’s real touch stopped, but Tony’s words were still there. And he knew what came next. The thing he needed. It always came next.

Tony sat cross-legged on the sofa, missing Peter even though he could still feel the weight of the boy, through the suit, on his arms. Gently, the suit lowered Peter into Tony’s waiting lap. “There, baby. I have you. I have you.”

Tony held Peter a little tighter than usual. Closer than usual. More skin touching more skin. He felt Peter’s trembling, catching breaths, right on the edge of sobs.

He reached up and soothed the boy’s head into the crook of his neck. “It’s okay, Peter. It’s okay. I’m here.”

He curled Peter’s body against him. Tony pressed a lingering, tender kiss on the curve of his shoulder. He kissed each place where there were still dark purple-black marks. Not healed. Not healing.

He full-body shuddered against Peter and Tony closed his eyes. His breath caught and held. He could’ve hurt the boy. Seriously hurt him. Broken bones, torn skin. Peter would eventually heal those bruises, but Tony could’ve hurt him. Speechless, overwhelmed, farther gone than he’d ever been in his life, in his hands, even in his suit’s hands, he held the most precious in the world. And he could’ve hurt him.

“It’s okay, Peter. You’re safe,” he said, more trying to convince himself. Trying desperately to reassure himself that he had only bruised, not broken. “I’ll always keep you safe.” He could keep Peter safe from anything. Anything except himself. “Right here. With me. Mine. You’re so good. So precious. Everything, baby. All of you.”

Peter took deep, gulping breaths and waited for his tears to pass. They usually did quickly, when he didn’t fight to hide them, and he never tried to hide them from Tony anymore. Tony had explained from the beginning that the tears were okay, and there had always been a few after sex like this. Peter pressed his face into Tony’s neck and took another deep breath.

Then he wrapped his arms around Tony’s neck and sobbed.

Tony kissed the side of Peter’s head. “‘S okay, baby,” he said softly. “I want you right here. With me. Like this. Don’t want to let you go. Not yet. Not for a long time.” He took a deep breath and let it out with a whisper. “I need you, Peter. I need… I need to hold you.”

He pulled one knee up to support Peter’s back, to hold him close, Peter almost laying on his side in Tony’s arms, their chests almost touching. He held Peter as long as the boy needed. As long as he needed. Which was a very long time this time. He muttered soothing words, almost nonsense words, but he knew how much the sound of his voice helped Peter to calm. And this time, having lost his words, he needed to hear the sound of his own voice. To know that he was taking care of the boy. He had to take care of him.

It seemed the more Peter calmed, the less Tony did. His lips couldn’t hardly leave the boy’s shoulder. His cheek rested there. He looked at darkened spots against pale skin.

Peter’s arms were relaxed around Tony’s chest. His breaths even, his body was no longer wracked with sobs. He started to press kisses into Tony’s neck, moving a little away from his hiding place and resting against Tony’s shoulder. When he spoke, it was only a hoarse whisper.

“I’ve never… no one’s ever…” There was no way to finish the sentence. It wasn’t that no one had ever fucked him before (Tony knew that very well) but there had never been anyone who could have fucked him that way. Could have taken him apart that way. Could have made him give up control that way. There had never been anyone who had made him even dream of the things he had felt this night.

“Tony, I’ve never come that hard in my life.”

Tony held tighter as Peter tried to move away. He should’ve answered that, he knew. Instead he put five more kisses to Peter’s shoulder, in a very specific pattern. Then Tony rested his cheek against Peter’s cool skin. Peter felt Tony’s breaths become fast and caught, broken, shuddering. He felt wetness where Tony’s lips weren’t. He felt tears.

Peter was planning on asking Tony to carry him into the shower, something he hadn’t needed in a long time, but now the sound caught his attention and he found his spine straightening. He unwrapped his arms from around Tony’s neck and slipped his left around the man’s chest, the other around his head. He squeezed tightly for a moment, then relaxed. With his left arm he kept Tony firmly pressed against him and used his right hand to comb his fingers through Tony’s hair. He didn’t know what to say, so he waited.

“I hurt you,” Tony said when he could finally speak.

“No! No, it wasn’t that. It never hurts. It feels weird sometimes but it never hurts. I’m sorry I cried, it was just… it was a lot.”

“Baby, no.” When Tony leaned back to look into Peter’s face, his eyes were glistening. “I… marked you. I bruised you. I hurt… I nearly…” He shuddered again.

Peter’s brow knotted in confusion, both at the tears in Tony’s eyes (had he ever seen that before?) and the idea of being marked… he had been marked? He let go of Tony suddenly and reached to his shoulder, then to his back, trying to find the bruises Tony seemed to think were there.

“Marked… did you?”

“Bruises,” he said, very gently curving his fingers around Peter’s shoulder where he’d left the marks. “I could have…” Tony closed his eyes. “I might’ve…”

“Marked me? Oh Tony…” He cupped Tony’s face in his hand and brought their faces close together.

“I’ve wanted you to mark me for so long.”

“No baby, you don’t understand. With the suit… You heal from anything… maybe. I could’ve… pulled you apart.”

Peter smiled a little and touched his forehead to Tony’s. He put his hand on Tony’s shoulder, fingering the place where his own fingertip-bruises usually landed. They weren’t there now, of course. It had been a while since Tony had made him come that way, and he was more likely to leave dents in the headboard now than leave dents in Tony. He had hated them in the beginning, detested them. They were a mark of pride for Tony, but to Peter they were nothing but stomach-knotting. He wanted to see bruises on himself, of course, but never on his lover.

He remembered what it was like, hearing ‘I trust you’ over and over again when he didn’t yet trust himself. He decided not to take the same route.

Wrapping his arms around his lover again he held him close. “Okay. You could have pulled me apart. Maybe. Except you stopped every other time I needed you to, so it’s hard to believe you wouldn’t have stopped then, too. But if you left bruises, I didn’t notice. I didn’t ask you to stop. I was too busy coming my brains out.”

Tony shook his head. “I wasn’t in conscious control. Not of me. Not of them. It wouldn’t have mattered if you asked.” He looked at Peter’s shoulder again.

“Okay. But how many times I told you I was scared of hurting you, and you just told me over and over that you trusted me? Now I’m not allowed to trust you?”

Peter still had tears on his face, but now he looked into Tony’s face and smiled.

“Maybe you could have hurt me. Well, tech-genius, you’ll have to tech-genius yourself out of that one. Program failsafes into the sex suits. Call it the ‘suit sex’ protocol, or the ‘gang-bang program’ or ‘date-night’ or something.

“Because you are doing that to me again.”

Tony nodded. Peter’s words took the fear and worry and replaced it with something he could actually do. A tech solution. He was good at that. There wasn’t a problem he couldn’t tech his way out of.

“I had to do that with my nightmares. Create something that could tell when I was asleep. The implants could monitor my brain waves to tell the difference between my sleep/wake cycles. I just need a way to tell when I’ve lost conscious control while awake. I’m sure there’s some definable physiological response.”

He lifted Peter in his arms, kissed him on the lips, and carried him to the shower that was just off the lab.

“That can happen again. I want it to happen again. Just not before I’ve made a few upgrades to the sensors,” he said with a smile. “The older suits don’t have near enough of them.”

He let Peter down to stand on his feet. He turned him to face the mirror. On each of his shoulders were four dark purple oval marks with faint purple lines curving over the top. Tony turned Peter again and on his back were two thumb prints.

It wasn’t the marks themselves that Tony found so troubling. It was where they were. How they were placed. Peter liked to think that he was stronger than anything. But with the suit, he could have hurt Peter gravely. They both might want sex-with-suits to happen again, but it couldn’t happen until Tony had objectively tested protective protocols in place.

Peter was moaning and twisted his body around and around to get a better look. He fingered them over and over again, sometimes gazing at them in wonder, sometimes grinning from ear to ear. Finally he broke off to wrap his arms around Tony and pull him into a crushing hug. He was almost in tears again. “You marked me. You did. You finally did. I have bruises… oh god but they won’t last! Can I take pictures?”

Tony could see how happy it made Peter being able to be bruised by him in the same way as he bruised Tony. It made sense. And he had to admit, it appealed to his possessive side.

“Of course. I’d expect nothing less than a selfie from a millennial. Just keep it off of Instagram, huh?” Tony said with a smile.

[absollnk]

Absol's Journey's End progression, act 1: prehardmode

(this post contains sarcasm not marked with /s because a., I'm not targeting any real people and b., It's for emphasis. I will also be explaining things that may not need to be explained to seasoned players in order to make this a little more accessible. Tw for sparse cursing)

wow

I'd like to call myself good at Terraria. I've played across several platforms since patch 1.1 and know way too much about this spectacular sandbox's intricate details. I can blaze through most bosses effortlessly if I'm prepared. I've done playthroughs of every class in expert mode (except summoner, couldn't find a slime staff even after farming :/).

It's so strange to be bitch slapped all the way back to square one just because I've never touched a keyboard before.

I don't remember what my initial key layout was, but currently, the important ones are-

WASD for movement

C for inventory

R for mounts

F for quick heal

B for quick buff

Space for jump

LeftAlt for smart cursor toggle

M for map

Left click for action and right click for interaction, and

Mouse 3 (scroll wheel *press* for grappling hook.

You should've seen my hour-one gameplay. It was sad. I couldn't change directions while jumping. I was regretting choosing expert mode difficulty. If I wasn't using journey mode's research system as a crutch, I'd probably still be pre-skeletron. I didn't even have enough skill to use the step stool accessory, which literally just requires holding up.

But, in the long run, I got better way faster than I could've anticipated. First, however, on irl day 2, I killed the Eye of Cthulhu on my fifth try after being torn apart by its last-resort Wacko Mode 4 times. At that point I was decked out in full gold gear with the fast and piercing jester arrows, so I really felt that the keyboard was holding me back considering that I usually do the eye armorless (admittedly I only had 100 life, but I usually do that too.)

The next day, slime rained. I thought that the king would be free gear, so I warped back to the surface to bring him out. He wasn't. He spawned on top of me, dealing 50+ damage immediately, wiping out half my total HP. I instinctively tried to use the shield dash to get the hell out of there, but I hit the inside of his body, which made me bounce back, which made me get hit again, resulting in death. The fight lasted less than 10 seconds, and I could only see the fucker for two of them.

With my spicy new tendon bow from the eye, I thought in my tilted rage that it would be a good idea to go and beat up the Brain of Cthulhu. I was itching for beefier armor and it was the gateway between me and crimson/molten gear. I set up an arena above the crimson made of two long rows of platforms covered in health regen-boosting campfires. With a stack of its spawn item (thanks journey mode), I brought in the first one to size up what I was dealing with.

I died pretty well. In fact, this is where I died the best out of the whole run so far.

The first attempt went surprisingly well. My lovely and incredibly sexy jester arrows made dealing with the creeper hoardes *relatively* easy. Phase two did not apply to that. I had brought along a burning mace because it had the dual functionality of circling the player or being shot out and coming back again like a baseball on an elastic string. This would theoretically allow me to attack the brain if it was far away and defend myself if it was too close to me. I did not know that the mace had very little knockback while it was spinning. This plan did not work.

ELEVEN atempts of trial and error later, I won. By that point, the creepers alone had dropped enough materials to make the crimson armor without ever actually killing the boss, which is pathetic. But I won, and I didn't cheat. I'm still in the easy baby phase of the game. At this point I'm starting to realize why most players statistically chop down a tree and ditch the game forever.

It's irl day 3. Next up on my blood feud against the children's video game was skeletron, the next step in progression that makes the final boss of prehardmode a little bit easier and the thing preventing me from seeing my hair. I set up and even longer 3-layer arena and prepared to not have fun, as skeletron is known in my head for being a dumb bitch who cheats with fast, homing projectiles and an un-telegraphed chain attack that will instantly kill you if you can't grapple out.

He took two tries. I don't get it. I was probably getting better at the controls by then, but *that much* better? Like, the successful attempt wasn't even that close. Whatever. I was annoyed that the stupid brain gave me so much trouble, and I seemingly couldn't be happy after a boss fight even if it went well. But, since we take those, I proceeded into the dungeon to find a bunch of disposable weapons and, more importantly, the cobalt shield. I didn't have to take knockback anymore. If I rematched the king slime then he was fucking dead.

The clothier moved in and I bought the familiar wig to reveal my luscious locks.

Queen bee is next. The fights were standard, but I learned that she apparently enrages on the surface? I always fight her there, except for this time when I stayed underground for funsies. She was so much easier underground. Good to know, I guess. I could've probably done her before even the Brain.

Because I'd never been able to before and because I happened to find the tavernkeep after the bee fight, I tried out the old one's army which logically and appropriately kicked my ass. It was a reality check for sure (things were going smoothly since after the brain minus movement) but it was also a neat experience.

I mowed through the gobins, finally maxed my hp, and then it became Wall Time. My loadout was now molten armor with the Molten Fury bow and the Sunfury flail (which for some reason has like ninety base dmg??? This is a PREhardmode weapon? It has NO business doing 90+ but hey I'll take it). I was also rocking the blizzard in a balloon, band of regen, fledgeling wings, lightning boots, and shield of Cthulhu. I felt like I was finally strong enough in-game and competent enough with the controls to advance to hardmode. I was finally good enough at the video game to change directions while jumping.

I built a roughly 1,900-block long bridge in hell out of the blast-proof dungeon bricks. My plan was to run far ahead of the wall and just kill it with dynamite. I grinded for a voodoo doll and yeeted it into the lava, murdering Andrew the guide with questionable morals and bringing forth the wall of flesh. Little did absol know that they forgot to pack the main part of their plan, dynamite. I realized this, contemplated in-game self murder to end the hopeless fight early, but then I had an epiphany. What if I didn't cheese the boss and fought it legitimately?

With my epic gamer status and pride on the line and expecting nothing more than failure, I whipped out my good ole 100-gotdamn-damage Sunfury and tore through the Wall's hungry appendages.

This is all cool and good on paper. I'm doing consistent damage and I'm not dying. That's how you kill bosses. Things are going well, life is good.

I check the map and learn that I've already used up two thirds of my hellbridge and that the wall was only just below half health. Oh no. Things are actually not going well and life is bad.

I switch to the bow, hoping that the speed and accuracy result in better DPS. Better it was, and I would be all set if it weren't for the Wall's gimmick. I was indeed doing more damage, but as it loses health, it gets faster. I'm at a point where I have to be running at full speed almost constantly to stay a safe distance away. The Wall's health still isn't in the dark red zone and I'm almost out of road. I'm starting to take steady damage from the exponentially faster eye lasers and leeches. I run out of bridge and have to hop from lava lake to building to lava lake in order to not burn alive in the infernal orange juice. New areas are being revealed on the map because I'm fighting in an area I've literally not been in yet. I'm too busy focusing on not being deep-fried that my aim suffers tremendously. I fumble while switching back to the flail for quality over quantity, costing me precious seconds. The wall now moves faster than my top speed. I mis-time a jump and right before the wall disintegrates me between itself and a building, it dies.

I audibly moan in real life.

I go and check the treasure bag after a few seconds of mental recalibration. I got a laser rifle and a ranger emblem, along with the standard demon heart which I immediately wolf down to slap on the emblem. I guess I'm a ranger now.

Recap:

King Slime: still alive

Eye of Cthulhu: five attempts

Brain of Cthulhu: twelve attempts

Skeletron: two attempts

Queen Bee: two attempts

Wall of Flesh: one attempt

The spirits of light and dark have been released and my gamer status is intact. Absol's next victim-victim relationship is with the Queen Slime, but that'll have to wait until the hardmode post :)

Thank you if you've read this far!! Lemme know what you think about this kind of thing, it was fun

[mathematicalghost]

celeste, anxiety, and me

A couple of notable things happened this week:

I started 428 Shibuya Scramble on PC

I finally dusted off my Twitch account to stream for the first time in months

I finished Celeste

And, most frustratingly, I had an anxiety attack.

I don’t really talk about my anxiety all that much, or at least not nearly as much as I should. I got diagnosed with it in the height of my GCSE’s, so absolutely no prizes for guessing exactly what flared it up. I didn’t really do much about it in a medical sense - I never took medication, saw a therapist, or really had much interaction with a healthcare professional at all after a diagnoses. I just… lived with it. There were a whole list of very clear triggers for it, and I worked through them and figured out how to cope using mechanisms that were both good for me and uh, less good (if you’ve ever seen me at an all day event where I’m new to the building layout, I am almost definitely dehydrated). The laundry list got smaller, and I claimed I “stopped” having anxiety just before I went to university. Hrm. It didn’t quite work out that way.

Let me jump back to Celeste really quickly, because I’m not just unloading all my trauma onto an unsuspecting reader without a reason for it (I swear!). So, I really enjoyed Celeste - evident by the fact I bothered to actually finish it, a rare feat that is becoming increasingly less rare as my free time is now more predictable and less guilt-wracked from education. It took me a little under 18 hours to complete, although this doesn’t include any strawberry collecting, I don’t have all the B-sides (I haven’t played the B-sides levels yet either), the Crystal Hearts-based level is currently locked off to me, and includes the fact I made liberal use of the Assist Mode function. I’d imagine if you were any better at platformers than I am, it’d probably take 12 hours or so to do a single run, but equally if I went for an actual completion run I’d still have a good extra 30 hours left to me in this game. I’m still pretty new to short platformer games, spending my time caught up in RPGs that all my friends played and not realising how little I actually care for that style of gameplay, but Celeste was so addictive to me just because I could play in the stolen chunks of time I’d find on the bus to work. It definitely made me more alert when I’d get into the offices in the morning - nothing like a good bit of frustrating gameplay to get your brain going in the morning, I guess.

Celeste is such an easy game to recommend because there’s already so many people raving about it - I don’t need to rehash why the gameplay or music is so good when there's plenty of work out there already explaining it. I loved how the Strawberries held no actual mechanical weight to them other than “idk if you want to I guess”. I loved the mini rhythm levels to achieve the B-side cassettes. I loved the Assist Mode, where I could add an extra dash or switch on invincibility when my hand started to hurt and the thrill of the challenge was replaced by pure frustration. And, above all, it’s pinned by the most amazing story.

So, the basic premise is that Madeline decides to hike up Celeste Mountain. She’s not much of a mountain climber, or any kind of climber at all really, but the mountain calls to her in an inexplicable way. She has to prove herself, prove that she’s able to do something. Madeline is pretty open about the fact she has depression, and the Mountain exploits this to split the depression “Part of [Madeline]” into a ghoul. She looks like Madeline in every way except that she’s purple, floats, and is constantly trying to kill Madeline. At times, she’ll even sabotage Madeline’s relationship with other people, causing them to to turn on Madeline, too.

Part of what really struck me about Madeline’s story is the fact that the depression ghost didn’t actually hit her at first. She’s nervous, sure, but she actually gets part way up the summit before this ghost even appears. She doesn’t have her first panic attack until long after the ghost has established herself as a nuisance, and it crops up even when danger doesn’t seem to be around (such as at a campfire). It takes different forms at times, and affects people differently (Mr Oshiro and Theo both have times when their own demons affect them, and it’s not the same as Madeline’s ghoul). It mirrors my own experience with anxiety, especially as it moves to the final chapters.

So, back to me, I guess. If Madeline’s depression looks like a ghoul version of herself, floating menacingly and pushing through outbursts, then I’ve always described my anxiety as an overtired toddler. The main wave of anxiety has passed now (Anxiety attacks for me can last between three days and, during a particularly bad February of this year, three and a half weeks), but I think the main thing to trigger it was a stomach ache I had on Wednesday. If you’re thinking it doesn’t make sense, then try asking a screaming two year old why they’re crying and deciphering their nonsensical string of an answer. Maybe there was something deeper to the anxiety than a stomach ache, but that doesn’t mean I can articulate it to anybody else, least of all myself.

Anxiety attacks are slightly different to panic attacks in that they can last longer, and don’t always have an obvious external symptom like hyperventilating. For me, I was in a loop of nausea, irritability, fighting back the consistent urge to cry, and heart palpitations. I didn’t quite hyperventilate, but I was breathless at the height of it, manifesting as a cough as my body fought to breathe. All of these symptoms made me tired, which made me anxious, because I get anxious when I’m tired, which made me more tired, which made me anxious, and so on and so forth. Stomach pains and nausea make me anxious too, because I don’t know if I’ll be sick, which also in turn make me more anxious, and get me trapped into a building cycle of pure dread. Three and a half weeks of it wasn’t exactly the best way to spend my February of this year, and it certainly wasn’t my chosen method of experiencing the past week.

Madeline asks her ghoul at one point why she’s being attacked. Surely, if Madeline’s fear is that she’ll get hurt on the mountain, why is her ghoul trying to kill her? Much in the same way I wonder why I’m getting anxious over nausea if it’s only a symptom of the anxiety in the first place, the ghoul isn’t on the mountain to follow logical reasoning. Theo tells Madeline that she’ll only get hurt if she tries to help Mr Oshiro more, and that her existence on the mountain is already a proof of achievement. And yet, Madeline is determined to stay in the resort (to my Switch left joycon’s horror) to help him regardless of whether or not he is grateful. I do things to prove something to myself long after it’s necessary, even if I know I’ll pay the price with my mental health later. We do things that aren’t always objectively logical because ghouls, and toddlers, and crystals, and weird Mario-esque ghosts, aren’t always things you can objectively reason with.

Initially, Madeline tries to swallow her fears and just climb. To ignore the ghoul she saw in the cracked mirror. Further up Celeste Mountain, Madeline concludes that she needs to destroy her ghoul. She needs to get rid of the “Part of [Madeline]” that seeks to hurt her. Then later, finally, Madeline realises she needs to talk to the ghoul. To embrace it and utilise it.

I once was deep in an anxiety attack when I went to a fencing match. By mistake, I’d had too many coffees that morning and the combined caffeine and anxiety pretty much clipped me through the sky and into another plane of existence. We won the match, and in turn I figured out that if I move more in a match, I get more points. Was it healthy in the moment? Absolutely not. But I doubt jumping into an abyss and hoping your ghoul is going to throw you the rest of the way is that healthy either. But you can take from it and learn.

Ignoring my symptoms of anxiety didn’t help at all. Avoiding all sources of my triggers helped a little, but not that much either. Recognising when I’m having an anxiety attack, managing the symptoms, and letting it pass like a wave works so much better. It’s only my second anxiety attack of the year, but if I get a third one I know what I need to do to get through it.

I’m not going to climb a mountain to prove I can do this, but I’m glad I followed Madeline on her journey as she did.

[fanfictionconnectionwordpress]

Mystic Messenger Fanfiction | Vanderwood+Seven - Wrecked Ass

***I've been involved in a number of things lately, and this is one of them! This idea was a collaboration with @chaoticstarblossoms, my official FFC artist and best friend. This is what we ended up with - to post for @vanderweek. This is for Day 6 prompt Partners~ Regular posting will resume next week, I'm thinking. ~Let's Connect! FFC***

Vanderwood could hear it. That accursed song. Seven had become obsessed with it lately. More like, ever since Vanderwood had complained about it on a mission, Seven would play the song whenever the elder agent came over to check on the redhead’s work. It was nearly constantly on repeat while Vanderwood would clean - the environment far too dirty for any sensible person to be able to work in, let alone himself with his OCD.

He called out into the bunker as soon as he entered. “Turn that shit off before I tase you!” That was how it always started, and for a while it would be off - until Vanderwood would start cleaning and get too in-the-zone to step away. Seven knew Vanderwood had to accomplish each task before he could pause. That asshole. This time, though, the music didn’t turn off.

The agent stepped into the living room of the bunker - eyebrow twitching at the mess everywhere. Where was the music even coming from? It was fainter than normal. Something was off. Vanderwood undid the clasp on his taser-holster, pulling it back for easy access as he pulled out his gun from its hiding spot. There was something very off about this.

It didn’t feel like there was danger afoot - more like the redhead was up to his tricks again. If there was a trick, Vanderwood didn’t want to be involved. He had to find Seven before shit could go down. Every room would have to be scanned, and he started with the computer room and bedroom - eyebrow twitching at the mess but thankfully able to ignore it now that he was slipping into work mode.

Vanderwood stalked from room to room, holding his gun forward and scanning every nook and cranny before he moved on to the next. Some of the rooms, he could hear the music more loudly than others. Still, it would be a mistake not to check every room until he found the right one. The music could just as easily have been a diversion, and Vanderwood didn’t want to get caught in a trap because he was playing hot and cold with some CD player.

He opened another door, checking around and nearly muttering, ‘Clear,’ to himself before he saw it. A pair of glowing orange eyes lit up. Bloody fucking Hell. What in the God-damn universe was that? Seven had a number of ridiculous things in his bunker, but the things that Vanderwood hated the most were the kid’s gadgets. He built all sorts of robots and creatures, and each seemed more dangerous than the last.

A, “Woof!” reverberated through the room - the apparently robot-dog stepping forward into the dim lighting coming from the opened door. Its mouth opened again - an orange glow appearing slowly. Fear clutched Vanderwood, an emotion which was very rare for him. Typically, he would have rushes of adrenaline but never outright fear. However, there was a bloody fire-breathing robot-dog in the bloody bunker!

Vanderwood popped off a shot or two, slamming the door closed as the beast staggered back. He held the door in place, chestnut-brown eyes widening as the door seemed to grow hot - giving off enough heat for him to worry that his long hair was going to light aflame. It didn’t, but he felt his anger rising even more. Was the little asshole trying to kill him?

With renewed energy, Vanderwood was back to his scanning. Every room from then on was clear - the sound getting louder and louder as he approached the final room in the house. It was the garage. Vanderwood hadn’t thought that the kid would put his, ‘baby cars,’ at risk enough to plot some trick in there, but maybe he was underestimating the redhead’s trickery. Either way - when all of this was over, Vanderwood was going to whoop the redhead’s ass. Or tase him. One or the other. Bloody Hell, why not both?

Slowly, with all the care in the world, Vanderwood opened the door into the garage. He was blasted with the song on an even higher volume that made his already damaged ears ring. The agent kept his gun up, scanning the surroundings. Where the fuck were the cars? That was when he caught it, movement from the corner of his eyes. Vanderwood had previously cleared that space, but he hadn’t looked at the ceiling.

There was now a large wrecking ball coming down from above, falling in a bee-line towards him as Vanderwood jumped back, pressing himself against the wall. Thankfully, the wrecking ball stopped just a foot from him. Seven had apparently planned for that, and he’d also planned for the outfit that he was wearing as he sat atop the bloody wrecking ball, seemingly lip-synching to the music.

Vanderwood couldn’t even make his brain function to put his gun back in its place. He watched, completely dumbfounded, as Seven swung back and forth on the item in what was very clearly a nude bodysuit. Thank fuck that the kid wasn’t actually naked. Though even the idea of it was enough to make Vanderwood shiver.

In the span of a minute - Vanderwood had gone from violently angry to scared for his life, confused as all Hell, and now back to violently angry all over again. “Zero Seven! Get the fuck off that bloody thing!” How had the kid even gotten that into the house? Where were the cars? They certainly weren’t here. Those were some premium luxury cars, too. The agent took comfort in the fact that Seven at least loved those precious commodities enough not to have destroyed them for this stupid trick.

Seven was laughing so hard now that he could barely even hear Vanderwood launching into a yelled lecture. That look on his partner’s face had been worth all of the hard work he’d done to get his baby cars moved to a secure location and then building his wrecking ball from scratch while hanging from the ceiling. Truly, this was his greatest accomplishment yet. There wasn’t even a way for Vanderwood to make him stop, because it was swinging back and forth like the very dangerous one-ton pendulum that it was.

Or so he’d thought. Seven had been so busy with setting up the specifics of how to build it and making sure that he wouldn’t actually hit Vanderwood when the ball fell, that he hadn’t accounted for how short of a time it would take gravity to slow the object in question. Already, its swing was shorter - getting shorter by the second. That detail wasn’t missed by the elder agent.

A dark smirk curved on Vanderwood’s lips as he realized what was happening. Seven had stopped laughing now to throw puns at him, and Vanderwood kept the redhead busy by continually responding - pretending that he still wanted the kid to get off the thing by himself. All the while, he was moving slightly closer as the swing lessened - so that Seven wouldn’t notice just how small the swing had gotten. When it was nearly to the middle of the room, he saw the realization cross the redhead’s face.

He hadn’t planned for this! Seven only realized what was happening when he questioned why he was getting a look at Vanderwood’s face so often now. The redhead sat petrified, trying to come up with the escape plan that he’d neglected to create beforehand. Curse his uncontrollable excitement! Probably the worst part of it was that the older agent wasn’t even doing anything. Seven looked up at the male, clutching the rope on his wrecking ball for dear life.

Vanderwood loved the way that Seven’s eyes were widening, preparing for his impending doom and punishment. He just stood there, letting the guy stew in it. Seven made a nervous chuckle after they’d been motionless for a minute or two, trying to get off of the wrecking ball. “I should get going to work, huh?”

The older agent just pressed his hand to Seven’s back, keeping him in place atop the item. “You want to get to work now? You look busy to me.” The music was making his ears ring more the longer it played so loudly, but he didn’t care right now. Seven deserved some torture after what he’d done. He watched as the redhead shifted uncomfortably on the large sphere, clearly not a good position to be in for long periods of time. “Uh…Yeah…I’d like to get to work!”

This device of his was so uncomfortable that Seven was sure it would wreck his ass if he didn’t get off of it soon. Maybe if he kept pretending like nothing had happened, Vanderwood would be nice and let him off the hook? Unlikely, but he had to give it a try. “I’ll just get right on it!” Again, he tried to move and was stopped. “You’re already on it.” His eyes flicked to the wrecking ball and back to Seven’s face. “You certainly came in like the wrecking ball you are, today.”

Vanderwood shifted, getting some earplugs out from an inner pocket of his jacket and in a deliberately slow motion, inserting them into his own ears. He was probably speaking much louder now thanks to them, but he’d been practically shouting over the music already. “We’ve got plenty of time before the deadline, so why don’t you enjoy your music a little bit longer?”

He could still faintly hear the song past the earplugs, and it was playing in his head, too. At least the painful ringing was gone. That, and there was another reward out of this. Seven would never again play that song - certainly not on repeat. The boy had a sore ass for a week. Vanderwood hadn’t even needed to whoop it to make that happen.

Like this? Want more? Check out my tumblr or website =0 ~Let’s Connect! FFC

[itslikethatfrenchthing]

024: HOW TO FIND MORE TIME BY DOING BATCH WORK

iTunes | Stitcher | Soundcloud | Overcast | Spotify | TuneIn | Castbox

Today’s question for the podcast:

How do you manage your time to study and plan the day? Most of the time I invest more time in not so important things.

Batch working has truly transformed my business, but it wasn’t always easy. I was convinced that multitasking was the way I worked. With time, I’ve solidified a plan that allows me to work ahead, work efficiently and have time off to truly rest. I promise you, this isn’t too good to be true!

You might think you’re being productive when you tackle many things at once, but that just isn’t true. The average time spent on a task before losing focus is one minute and fifteen seconds. (At this rate I might lose you soon – stick with me!)

Here’s the thing: we’re not really great at multitasking. We’re just switching our mind back and forth – aka, we’re not giving each task our full attention. Multitasking reduces productivity by 40% across the board, AND it takes about 50% longer to finish the task. Heavy multitasking can temporarily lower your IQ up to 15 points – 3x the effect of smoking cannabis... did that get your attention?

It’s one thing to recognise that multitasking isn’t efficient for your business or your life, but another to choose to tackle one task at a time. Which is why today I’m going to spill ALL of my secrets to ditch the multitasking lifestyle & transition to my personal style: batch working.

P.S. I’ve created a FREE 168 hour calendar so you can start batching your work and get your time back. Download it below!

WHAT IS BATCH WORKING?

Simply put, batch working is highly focused, topic specific forms of working. What I mean by this, is that it’s dividing your workflow into different days and hours of one topic – instead of jumping around constantly from task to task. To learn what batching is, let’s first learn what it is not.

For example, for the podcast, it would be SO easy for me to record one-off episodes to keep with the flow of the show. Which would mean, every week I would record a solo or guest show and release it the next week. While this may not seem like too bad of a system, it creates a constant stream of work, because each week I’d be thinking about finding a guest, scheduling it, writing, recording over and over again, with no room for error.

Now, think about the podcast process again but this time with a batch mindset. Recording 12 at a time. It might sound overwhelming, but you’re doing the same work with a long-term outlook. For example, I’ll schedule 10 guest interviews within a couple days’ time. Then, I’m done with a quarter of work. When it’s all said and done, it took less time because I wasn’t repeating the same processes one by one.

IS IT RIGHT FOR YOU?

I think we can all agree that coming from a place of a highly organised, efficient mindset is a great thing, but you might be wondering: can I really pull this off in my business and my life? I’m telling you, you can. Batch working is especially great for those of you pushing out content on a regular basis; whether it’s blogs, social media posts, videos, etc. batching what you are working on allows you to focus in and create crazy amount of content, and take it out of your mind for up to weeks at a time. Every day, instead of jumping around from task to task, you would know which task to focus in, work hard, and get it done.

How to schedule batch work

Recognise the biggest tasks that you have to complete and plan it out from start to finish. No more half-completed tasks, because you’ll know exactly what to do, in order to get ahead and accomplish what you want. Not only does this move your needle forward, but it can help free you up mentally. It frees you up from a time perspective, so you can focus on other projects in your business. Rest assured, your next projects are ready to go; you’re free to focus on smaller tasks, because you know the bigger things are checked off. Imagine how mentally freeing this could be for you.

Batch working is great for content creators but has a place in any business. Dedicating certain days, weeks or months to certain aspects of your business can streamline organisation. While it may originally seem rigid, you can customise it to whatever works best for you and your business. Some people like batching by days, where I like to work by project. However, you decide, it’s going to help you become more efficient, free up mental space, create a feeling of seeing ahead with reduced stress and allow you to think strategically.

My Process

By having a focused workweek, I can be all hands-on deck, get things done, so I can move on to the next week. For example, last week I was working on outlines, so this week I can work on recordings and next week I might repeat the process. I’m in a focused workspace, which requires less communication from a standpoint and allows us to know that today is devoted to this one project.

#1 | Identify True Priorities

Before you can batch work, you have to decide exactly what it is you want to batch. Set time for the things that move your needle forward the most, or the most important aspects of your business. My advice for choosing what you want to batch is to look at what is driving profits in your business and choose 3 to 5 areas you can focus on.

#2 | Look At Mini Tasks

Take a look at the list you just made and divide them up to steps. For example, making a podcast sounds simple, but it actually takes many steps to make that a reality.

#3 | Make A Schedule

You’re probably looking at all of these mini-tasks and thinking: a lot goes into this. Consider different deadlines and map out what you want your batching to look like. Whatever feels better for you, create a clear plan and stick to it.

#4 | Follow Through

This is where the magic happens, follow through, and get it done. Trust me, I get it. Major changes are happening in your workflow, and that can be scary. But trust me on this one: if you can commit to batch working for just one week, you will see the effects and difference of what you’ve accomplished and how you moved forward… and you’ll be hooked.

#5 | Enjoy & Look Forward

After batch working it is easy to see how your schedule looks. You can have subtle “pre-launch” content, so your audience is excited. Planning ahead makes being strategic so much easier. Spontaneity and new ideas don’t go out the window, but there is a time and a place to implement strategy… and you’ll be ready.

#6 | Batch Your Team

If you manage a team you’re likely to be pulled in a thousand different directions each day, and it is too easy to get caught putting out fires. By having a focused workweek, I can be all hands-on deck, get things done, so I can move on to the next week. For example, last week I was working on outlines, so this week I can work on recordings and next week I might repeat the process. I’m in a focused workspace, which requires less communication from a standpoint and allows us to know that today is devoted to this one project.

EFFICIENCY

The one big thing that I love about batch working is the fact that it brings efficiency into your business. When your plan is clear for the day, it’s really easy to just show up – focus for an hour (or two, or eight) and get the job done. When we don’t batch work, we leave our days wondering: what did we get done today? I feel like a lot of times, we’re leaving out work half done; with batch-working, you can focus, get something done, and not have to think about it again.

Brain Dump

I have a tendency to need to do “brain dumps” – if you ever get a feeling of there’s so many things to do, I don’t even know where to start – you need a brain dump with these steps:

Open a google doc or pen & paper

Write out anything that is on your mind (from what to make for dinner to what your next post will be – anything that is clogging up your mental space)

Give out tasks that don’t need to be done by you (or if your on your own, chip away at the list.)

Look at an efficiency standpoint

Remember the stats about how multi-tasking decreasing productivity and increases the amount of errors you make? I’d rather go up on airplane mode, divide up my time wisely & focus in, and do it all right once and for all.

Take a look at this list and think: “what can be batched?”

Mental Clarity

Now, let’s talk about mental clarity; I think that when you batch work, mental clarity comes from this sort of workflow. It comes from the ability to say – this is done, now I can move on to the next thing. Mental clarity is huge as a business owner. I want to be able to focus, and then have it leave my mind. There’s no reason to have the “I have to finish this caption” etc. in the back of your mind. When you’re able to free up mental space, you can cut out the white noise and look at the big picture in your business and in your life.

Sometimes as an entrepreneur, it’s like you’re walking down a dark alley with only a torch – and can only see however far the light reaches. With mental clarity, it’s like someone turned the lights on and you can see the big picture. Though sometimes we’re just trying to stay afloat and not looking at next month and next year. The biggest change that batch working has had for me and my business, is given me the ability to step back and get a bird’s eye view of what’s going on in my business. When I sit down and write captions for a week, I can see how they all lay out. Am I targeting each aspect of my business? Am I reaching out to my whole audience?

Nothing in business is an emergency. When you have focused work, it helps you to see that not a lot of things are urgent & you can get things done in your own time.

RECAP

How many of you right now feel behind? And what would change if you felt ahead? It might seem crazy, but it is possible. By batching yourself ahead, you will know what tasks are waiting for you, and that tedious tasks are out of the way. I can’t express how much the mental shift alone is worth its weight in gold. I know a fear when it comes to batch working is that things can fall behind – but with focus and batch working different areas of your business you will stay on schedule.

Set your business up in a way that is conducive to the way you work best.

I challenge you to take advantage of these days off you get by batching, because guess what? You’ve earned them.

Resources Mentioned In This Episode:

Tool Recommendation Of The Day: Google Calendar

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[elevatorupcompany]

Sketch, draw, doodle: just do it

Drawing, sketching, doodling: the act of making an idea or thought visual. These are tools we’ve known our whole life and I argue valuable enough to be revisited. Put aside the intimidation of being good at “art”. Forget the preconceived notions that doodling is equivalent to being bored. Rethink how drawing can be used as a tool across all aspects of your team, not just the creatives. ~ Emily, Designer The act of making something visual is a part of every human’s make up since the beginning of time. As children, we constantly created. Meander back to the freeing mindset of early days and forget any notions that only artists draw. Throughout this, I’ll be jumping back and forth between a few methods of making things visual: doodling, sketching, and drawing. By definition, they are all different. Sketching and drawing are typically differentiated by the level of fidelity. Drawing is thought of as the polished form whereas sketching is often referred to as the preliminary stage of drawing. Doodling is the red-headed stepchild, unlovingly defined as “to draw or scribble idly” or better yet, “to waste (time) in aimless or foolish activity.” In defense of doodling and in support of all three, we’ll explore how they benefit us in our day-to-day.

Thinking visually is a powerful tool in connecting, creating, communicating and comprehending the world around us. In an article highlighting cognitive benefits of doodling, Sunni Brown, author of “The Doodle Revolution”, warns us of the mindset which stops people from creating,

“To make the practice (of doodling) into something that requires savvy would be as dangerous as suggesting that only people who excel at writing should ever compose sentences.”

With that, consider these as tools in the following ways:

Getting visual an icebreaker: Because of our apprehension to create, it can be awkward. Relating to others over something universally discomforting can be oddly comforting. 

Getting visual as a way to come up with new ideas: Drawing fast and loose allows us to have half-formulated ideas with room to grow. 

Getting visual as a communication tool: We connect to images we recognize; let your ability to rough out forms help people relate to your ideas. 

Getting visual to better comprehend and understand your learnings: Making things visual is tool for comprehension, reinforcing what we hear.

Connecting

The very thought of creating something and then showing it to others heightens a sense of vulnerability. With vulnerability comes great opportunity to smash down walls. Use sketching as an icebreaker to connect with new teams and new clients. It’s a great way to unleash a little silliness and level the playing field of any room you’re in. 

Imagine if you can, you’re to plan the menu for your best friend’s wedding...with Gordon Ramsay. The thought is actually quite terrifying. “He’s going to make me cry and we haven’t even met yet”, you think to yourself. You’re well aware of what your friend likes and you have heaps of ideas. As the planning begins, shaking in your boots, you’re feeling inferior and you don’t speak up. This is a problem.

In far less hypothetical scenarios, people feel this level of doubt and fear within new groups all the time. Do these people know more than me? Are my ideas valuable? What if the topic was already covered? The very thought of being wrong or making mistakes is enough to silence meaningful voices. There is plenty of merit in telling people there is no right answer and to embrace just doing. Sketching is an interactive way to reinforce that notion. When you take time to recognize no matter who you are in that room, your different skillsets and different point of views, we remember that we all share a common language. 

Icebreaker activity: Everyone is given a blank piece of paper and a pen or pencil. At random, a letter is drawn. If the letter drawn is a “P” everyone is to take two to three minutes to draw everything they can possibly think of that starts with the letter “P”. When the time is up, pair up with someone and compare. There are a few lessons bundled in this activity:

First, we recognize the quickness of the activity. Rest easy knowing in under five minutes, everything is going to be unpolished.Next, we realize even our chicken scratch can be understood. It might be two ovals and a triangle, but every person recognizes it’s a penguin. Patterns will surface of the things people automatically gravitate toward, multiple people drawing the same object from one letter.The walls of uncertainty and self doubt fall as we laugh together and find we all can find common ground. 

Shout to to Lori over at Mutually Human for telling us about this.

Creating

Getting the wheels spinning and kicking off the creative process can be an overwhelming feat. When the world is your oyster it’s hard to know where to begin. Often we have ideas but the inability to express what we have churning in our mind stops us in our tracks. Engaging with our visual language helps us gain access to parts of our brain not easily accessible when we’re operating in linguistic mode. Sunni Brown speaks to this block: “Most of us use reading, writing, and talking to brainstorm, but the human mind is very habit forming. To break that habit, you have to think in an unfamiliar medium, a visual medium.” Breaking our habits helps up break the mold of old thoughts and discover new ideas. 

Much like creating a mind map, drawing (sketching and doodling) helps us build on ideas and find connections. Your teammate might draw something but you see it from a different angle and build on it in a new light. Drawings, like actions, often speak louder than words could ever do. The world is full of complexities and emotions without definitions. Making it visual allows us to speak in words the English language has not yet formalized.

Ideation activity We call this the bad idea blitz. Sometimes it takes clearing your mind of its crazy to unveil a shiny nugget of brilliance. This works alone or with a team. Do this at the beginning of ideation or when your team is feeling low on creative juices and ideas. First step is to know what you’re ideating for; is it an overall solution or the springboard of where to begin? Take a piece of paper and fold it so you have six rectangles. Give yourself one minute to come up with six terribly wonderful ideas. At the end, you likely didn’t come up with your final solution but you have pushed yourself to think outside of the box and loosened up those creative thinking muscles.

Communicating

Stick figures, scribbles, arrows, these are visual marks predating anything our verbal language could say. Drawing is a communication mechanism used by artists, architects, mathematicians, and careers spanning far and wide. Drawing can be a tool for communication when there isn’t a common language. Where words fail, imagery prevails.

Examples from many moons ago. My dad was in Paris when he was approached by a French man hoping to send his love letters to his girlfriend in New York. Their language barrier was much less of a barrier once they began drawing.

Comprehension

Comprehension is where doodling takes the stage. Doodling has been widely researched in its relation to comprehend and remember information. Published in the Journal of Applied Cognitive Psychology, researchers found people that doodle find it upwards of 29% easier to recall dull information, than people that do not doodle. There is much more time to daydream when you’re not doodling. In class, during lectures, or in meetings are great times to doodle.

“Few of us can effectively take point-by-point linguistic notes while listening to people talk, because the auditory information competes with the written information. But visual attention is like a learning loophole; it doesn’t compete with what we hear. That’s why doodling in school can actually help you learn.” -Sunni Brown

Comprehension activity: Sketchnoting can be thought of as purposeful doodling or as a method of note taking. At the core, it is just that: taking notes though a series of synthesized thoughts using doodles of shapes, words, and connectors to help remember information later down the road. An article in Core77 wonderfully breaks down the parts of sketchnoting and is a great jumping off point for your first sketchnote experience.

Core 77 breaks sketchnoting down into 7 elements:

Text: meaningful points, quotes, and quips. Use typographic treatments to make important information pop.

Containers: enclosing ideas, words, icons, into one structure. This helps identify grouped information.

Connectors: Lines, arrows, visual indicators to show linked information.

Frameworks: Some presentations might have an obvious structure. Frameworks help you synthesize into your own underlying structure.

Icons: Icons help represent an idea as simply as possible.

Shading: Add emphasis and contrast to your notes with shading. Color: Once you’re ready, add color. This helps distinguish different information.

From EU’s first go at sketchnoting to a Ted Talk.

Drawing, sketching, doodling: the act of making an idea or thought visual. These are tools we’ve known our whole life and I argue valuable enough to be revisited. Put aside the intimidation of being good at “art”. Forget the preconceived notions that doodling is equivalent to being bored. Rethink how drawing can be used as a tool across all aspects of your team, not just the creatives.

~ Emily, Designer

[uprootedandrelentless]

2017 Whirlwind - Miraya

Another year has flown by and it took a trip to London and hanging out with Olivia to wonder why we don’t write for the blog anymore. We’ve all gone through oh so many changes in 2017 and decided at very least we will document in a year in review round up (like last year), so here we go.

For most of my year I felt like I was packing or unpacking more than settled. The beginning of the year I was back and forth between New York and California (where my boyfriend Matt lived) with a trip to Florida for Valentine’s Day. By the time I got back to New York I had a month and a half left to sell everything in my apartment, say goodbye to my home of 5 years and oh yeah plan Dessert Goals. 4 days after Dessert Goals I was on a plane with 4 suitcases moving to Los Angeles April 1st. Matt was there to meet me and in a whirlwind we were setting up our new apartment and life in Los Angeles.

After a year of long distance, it was a treat for us both to be in the same city with flexible schedules (Matt was taking a break from Pixar and focusing on screenwriting). Together we cooked dinners, swam in our pool, checked activities off of our LA to do list. We signed a lease for six months, knowing that Matt may go back to Pixar at the end of his leave of absence, so we did all we could to feel rooted in this new life even though we knew it could come to an end soon. I organized three events in LA, two ShopUps and our first west coast Dessert Goals. Planning events in the city, going on site visits and meetings, sourcing supplies, making decorations really helped in giving me a purpose in the city. Then, just a few months into our lease, Matt made the decision to go back to Pixar in October. I knew this was an option from the beginning but had hoped there would be a scenario in which we would stay longer. We decided I would stay in LA for two more months after he moved up to Oakland to finish up my last event and then that I would move the end of November to join him.

The 8 months in LA flew by with many trips out to New York in-between and just like that I was selling furniture on Craigslist and packing up boxes, just as I had months before in New York. It was exhausting and distracting from my actual work and felt like another job I had to schedule into the day. Similar to my earlier move, I planned an event and two days later my dad flew down, we loaded up a 10ft Uhaul of all our possessions (which we somehow accumulated in only 8 months) and drove up to Oakland to unloaded everything into Matt’s condo. Then we jumped right back in the car to Santa Cruz for our first joint family Thanksgiving. I only had a few nights in the Oakland condo before packing my bags again and setting off to London and then New York for The ShopUps. Then once back we went to Santa Cruz for Hanukkah/Christmas. And now we’re at the condo for a few weeks straight which will be the longest I have been settled in quite some time.

This year I had a hard time feeling focused and grounded, with all the moving and trips and bouncing from one event to the next. I felt constantly reactive instead of my preferred mode of proactive. The last week Matt and I have been spending great quality time with friends and family, relaxing and eating, which is much needed. But really my brain is freaking out because I know I have to jump in fast planning next year’s Dessert Goals and ShopUps and focus on Pop Productions to secure new clients in the Bay Area. It feels like I am a step behind instead of ahead.

The best aspect about the constant travel of this year is how much time I got to spend with family and friends. I was sad to leave New York and my network of friends and my cousins, but I have been out to NY every other month for an event and each trip I stay a few extra days to catch up with everyone. In Los Angeles I got to reconnect with friends there and spend time with my aunt and uncle. Now in Oakland I am close to my parents in Santa Cruz and near more cousins as well as many friends from Berkeley. I got to see all three of my Uprooted and Relentless ladies this year! With Elaine in Irvine, not far from LA, we met up for some meals and hangouts while I was there and now Claire lives a mile away from me in Oakland. I went to London this month for The ShopUp like last year and got to spend time with Olivia and her darling new cat Neo. So the transient live is great for maintaining friendships!

Reading over my 2016 review blog post I realize I have the same flip floppy thoughts about Pop Productions now as I did last year; I can either see another year of just myself working on all the events or growing by getting new clients and hiring a team to help. In August I brought on a new intern, Sue, who has been helping with ShopUp and it’s such a relief having someone alongside me at the events that I can trust. I know long term I envision myself working alongside a team in an office but I just don’t know the right steps to take to get there. I feel even more torn certain days building this life in Oakland with Matt and curling up to the comforts of love and planning out our future versus girlboss mode of expansion and growth. When living alone in NY I would stay up late hours getting shit done and now it’s much harder to motivate myself to do that when I could be watching a movie with Matt. He is unbelievably supportive and just wants me to be happy but I don’t always know how to balance the happy of now and the happy of where I want to be in the future, which takes a lot of hard work to get to. It feels like every few weeks Matt reminds me not to be so hard on myself about something which of course is important to remember. As always, I am seeking the balance of working hard and hardly working.

In 2018 I will be planning events in New York and Los Angeles so there will be more travel in my future. I have made the decision to be with Matt and being with Matt means living in Oakland, where Pixar is, so my goal for next year is to focus on rooting myself in the Bay Area, both personally and professionally, to build my future here and take the steps towards feeling rooted - but always still relentless.

-Miraya

[kosmiklove]

Kos. What song reminds you of her? What's her favourite pastime? How does Kos like to be hugged? What kind of feelings did Kos have for Rux? What kind of feelings does she have for him now that they both have their own separate romantic partners? What mannerisms does Kos have?

So, this first question is a bit of a doozy, cause it really depends on my mood, and her mood, and in general a ton of other things, but the first two that came to mind were Timebomb by Boy In A Band, and Pop Culture by Madeon if you shoot me another ask, I’ll be sure to wade through all my magic just for you ;).

Kos’s favorite past time without a doubt is reading. She loves gettting lost in knowledge and other worlds and characters and that sort of thing. She loves the drama and intrigue and all that good stuff that comes from reading books, and when she and Vinn get their own place, it’s going to be, hugely, a library. She loves keeping books and scrolls much more than she likes holoreading, though she isn’t extra opposed to doing that either.

SHE WANTS TO BE ENVELOPED IN WARMTH! Kos’s favorite sort of hug is when she wraps her arms around someone’s waist, and their arms go around her shoulders and she’s almost completely surrounded by the other person. Bonus: their head rests on top of hers, or on her shoulder and she can relax there for as long as she wants.

Kos’s feelings for Rux were very similar to her feelings for Kal. That is, they were... sort of childish. She enjoyed his presence very much, and he was the person she trusted, but it wasn’t very deep. It didn’t develop into anything past a crush, at face value. She thought of him as someone she liked having around, and her mind jumped to how nice a life together would be, the two of them, how they would get along and how comfortable they could be together. She was more in love with the idea of him than the actual thing, the potential future they could have, and would have been fine chasing that, but she and he both knew that they were sort of using each other as a comfort for loss. It wouldn’t have been very healthy.

Now that they both have their own people, it’s more relaxed. Kos was sort of.... pressured? by her expectations for the both of them, and while she still loves having Rux around, she’s much more at peace, and comfortable, about them just being friends. 

Kos’s mannerisms are sort of minimal, sort of not. I know that was vague. When she’s in advisory mode, because of the way she was trained, she tends to keep herself in check, movements minimal, maybe an occasional hand gesture to illustrate her point, but other than that she’s almost as still as a stormtrooper. However! off duty Kos (if you ever happen across her lmao) is an energizer bunny. She’s almost always in motion, even if it’s just tapping her fingers or playing with her hands. She’s stimming almost constantly, whether it’s bouncing on the balls of her feet or moving her body or small bursts of dancing (shaking hips, bouncing, short shimmies, the works). This even translates to the way she fights, if her brain is working, her control usually stops at her fingers, which will tighten or move in sequence on her lightsaber hilt. She’s a serial pen mover, moving it quickly back and forth in a sort of wave with her hand, almost like she’s going to tap on something,  but not actually connecting. She will also, if I haven’t mentioned it yet, tap her fingers on anything. almost like she’s playing a piano run, almost constantly, against something she’s holding, against her leg, against the table, against Vinn’s arm when his arm is around her, almost constantly once her mind is on something.

She also puts things in her mouth when she’s thinking. Not particularly to chew on them, just to hold them there. if she needs to free her hands, the thing she’s holding goes straight into her mouth, her pen, her tablet, her clipboard, her wrench, anything. This is largely because she will lose the thing if she puts it down, but even MORE because it’s just the first place her mind thinks to put it. It’s the quickest and most convenient holder.

[sleepymarmot]

Notes I’ve taken during the Double XP weekend and forgot to publish, as usual

self care is staying in Mystery Heroes all day and never worrying about team comp

I love how you learn this game by watching and copying the enemies. I steal all positioning ideas for snipers and turrets from the read team. And reading about counters on the internet is one thing, but personal experience is more memorable. Today I played D.Va a lot and Symmetra (unsurprisingly) always wrecked me, so later when my D.Va met her red team double I switched to Symmetra and we won. I even got a POTG, though it looked unimpressive; I  also learned that the shield generator is awesome on a control map. (Earlier in the day I tried the same with Roadhog, but for some reason it didn’t work. I wonder if it’s just a general lack of skill or there’s some specific mechanic I’m not getting.)

I want to start recording the kill cams when the enemies take advantage of my mistakes in a cool way. Like when my Mei tried to chase after enemy Sombra who lured me right into Bastion’s line of sight. Or when my healer (Zenyatta, maybe Mercy, don’t remember) went through a choke ahead of the team for some reason and an enemy Mei walled me off of them.

After a couple of hours with Symmetra I now learn her teleporter is limited to six people. Whoops... 

We got absolutely demolished by a group of six on Gibraltar. They didn’t even let us out of spawn. I’d never experienced a game like this, it was like playing against aliens from Mars. When our team tried to mimic them next turn, of course someone sneaked out and they won again.

Over the weekend, my playstyle shifted from always “contest the objective!!” to “well let’s hold back and group up. okay it didn’t work. let’s group up? nope again. oh, the timer ran out”. Neither are productive. 

It’s actually one of the reasons I’m getting sick of playing healers. I want to initiate! I want to contest! I want to be! on! the! damn! objective! But how am I suposed to do it with no communication? When I’m a tank there’s at least a hope that when I rush in, the others would follow. (Which can be painful as Rein, because you can’t even turn around to check if they’re really backing you or have scattered elsewhere.) As a healer? Well, maybe Lucio, but I haven’t played him much because I can’t get the hang of wallriding and I need to be near my teammates which is not always possible. It’s so pointless to jump on the payload alone as Mercy. Or for a moment yesterday I pushed the payload as Ana, though it was in Mystery Heroes. Look, as a healer and a sniper, I don’t think I should be alone up here...

Also if I’m the only healer I can’t just switch to try and counter a particularly troublesome enemy. When I’m the only tank it applies too, but to a lesser extent.

Satisfying games I had in the same night:

Riding the payload as Bastion on Dorado attack. Never tried it before. The red team was not prepared. I don’t think the payload was ever deserted.

Tank-to-tank standoff on King’s Row, both attack and defense. I was Orisa, the enemies had Orisa too both times, and D.Va at least once. Stand your ground and spray bullets to your heart’s content. Shout out to the awesome Mercy who made this possible and rezzed me immediately, I think it was a multi rez too.

I got sick of the teams on defense standing too far from the pont, and then letting someone through and trying to rush back before they can capture it but being too late. So I went to Hollywood as Bastion, parked in a corner with my back to the gate and my barrel parallel to the wall with the chokepoint, and could shoot at anyone coming through without even aiming. The other teammates stayed on the point too. Everything went well -- until the enemy D.Va sent her mech over the wall and wiped everyone off the point at once. We couldn’t recover and they won. Now that was a POTG. I really should have expected that, though...

Speaking of D.Va -- I face so many strong ones but my own skills are still garbage :( I can’t even ult properly, like sometimes I try to use boosters but instead explode it immediately with nobody around. And I always get ejected from the mech so soon. I dunno what dark magic Defense Matrix management skills other people have.

Symmetra out-DPSed my Bastion several times and it was bullshit. She jumped around me faster than I could turn. Of course, when I play Symmetra, half of the time the enemies run away too fast and I run after them in a straight line providing an easy target, or they don’t even bother and overpower me without moving.

Me: It’s just cosmetics My obsessive brain: Makes me grind until the last hour of the event in late morning

Seriously it was kind of a hell... I waited for the new week in Arcade to unlock and couldn’t leave until my nine victories. And that night, the final night of the event, I discovered that 3v3 is the most efficient mode. No waiting/setup time, no stupid skirmish. We moved there at the suggestion of a teammate of a particularly torturous game in Total Mayhem that lasted 20 minutes. Zaryas on both sides, ults going off all the time but not killing anyone... 

And when I got all the lootboxes, they didn’t even give me anything but dupes. I had 3245 gold and was faced with a terrible choice: one skin or four dances. I’d wanted Zen and Rein’s dances all this time, Tracer and Sombra and some others are super cute too. But the skins are more prominent, while emotes can only be used occasionally and I might want to replace them on the wheel. Thankfully, I got Symmetra’s skin as loot, so the choice was between Pharah, D.Va and Lucio. I’m so terrible at Pharah I’ve stopped trying, so that skin might have been wasted on me. I looked up D.Va’s voice lines in the new skin and didn’t particularly like them. I like D.Va’s default skin, and theoretically I’d love to get my hands on the Lunar one if it’s ever available again, but I’m indifferent to Lucio’s default and the purchaseable skins are worse. So I was left with the choice between Lucio and four dances. I watched the video with this skin’s alternate songs and spent some time trying to figure out whether I like them or not.

I wasted so much time torturing myself over this I realized it could take less to earn some more gold. So I bought Lucio’s skin and went grinding again. At this point I didn’t particularly care about winning, just getting through the matches for the xp. The first lootbox was kind to me and dropped 50 gold... so I was only 5 gold away from an emote. In sleep-deprived desperation I sat down to grind another level. By the time it was over, I think it was a bit past 10am aka the official ending time. But I got my gold. I bought Zen’s dance, and I was finally free to log off and try to get rid of the adrenaline and finally get some sleep. I’m so sorry, Sweethardt... I wish we could be together :(

I’m still not sure if the Lucio skin was the right decision. The songs are indeed kind of distracting, and the speed one is badly mixed: starts with a new jazzy melody and then for some reason fades into the default beats (of a totally different style). And it bugs me that the hat completely covers his eyes. Ah, well. Any decision would have resulted in buyer’s remorse in this situation.

Highlight of the 3v3 grind session: sleepymarmot gets POTG for sleeping. My Lucio boops Ana, she shoots him with a sleepdart, and that’s all that happens. Entire chat went “wtf lol”. Clearly the game was sending us a message. It’s 7am, you know what’s the best thing to do right now? Going to fucking bed.

I pocketed Pharah a lot in those matches. I feel guilty about letting the third person die... But when my healer instincts got the better of me and I dropped down to feed a red cross, it didn’t end well. Fall off of Pharah once, and without communication, good luck trying to attach yourself to her again... Tbh I wouldn’t like to play this regularly -- it’s not very interesting to literally spend all the time literally riding on one person’s coattails. Though I guess in a normal game the fun is in the jumping back and forth between Pharah and the team -- like in a normal Mercy game but with more flying.

I also played Pharah myself in this duo a couple of times and actually didn’t do badly. I guess it’s easier on these smaller maps

After I wrote this entire post, I discovered that this event, like the free weekend, is still mysteriously active for me hours after the end date. So I went to grind again. Got Tracer’s dance (good), I think McCree’s too (don’t care). And you know what was in the final lootbox, which I opened after the event finally ended? Lucio’s goddamn skin! Of. Course.

I feel seriously burned out after playing so much in a short amount of time, especially because in the final hours I’ve stopped caring about winning at all. I lost concentration so badly -- I didn’t think about my abilities or teamwork or countering enemies, constantly attacked them head on even with characters not meant for that... What if this attitude stays and I won’t be able to play the game normally? What if I just ruined it for myself? Ugh. Why do I always have to be like this.

The best thing about this session was when I accidentally clicked on 1v1 and managed to win 5-1. It was pretty stressful so I went back to 3v3 immediately. But it was really fun to think strategically about hero selection, trying to quickly compute which of the three available characters is not only easiest for me to play, but the strongest against any of them.

Another good moment was in Mystery Heroes, when I got Reaper and on my way to the point was lamenting my inability to play him and the aforemetioned lack of concentration. The point is under attack, I teleport in, kill Zen and two others who were about to get onto it, help kill Winston in the middle of it, overtime runs out, I get POTG. Wat?

One night after playing a lot I had a dream that the Roadhog nerf came through and also changed his name (don’t remember to what) and portrait to an unmasked, civil-looking, clean-shaven 30-40 year old blond white man, and just as I went to see what his skins look like now I woke up

I finished the event at level 89. Considering that I only played during the free weekends and bought the game after the second one, that’s pretty fast leveling up.

I started recording a lot during the weekend, and have several videos in the drafts, but on second thought I don’t think anyone would be interested, there’s nothing remarkable going on in them.

[cuemanbeing-blog]

22 BAD HABITS TO GIVE UP IF YOU WANT TO BE SUCCESSFUL

 They say success is the meeting between preparation and opportunity. In order to get there, you need to set some ground rules.

 Ultimately, this means that in order to be successful, you should be less focused on the big trophy at the end and much more deliberate with how you spend your time right now. Start setting a routine and building the habits that will lead to success.

 But first, here are the bad habits you need to chuck right now if you want to reach your desired outcome.

 1.    Negative thinking.

 This is where it all starts. Negative behaviours and thoughts will only hold you back. Allowing a contradictory or negative mindset to take hold is like allowing a poison to invade your brain. Don’t do it. Once you’ve started down that path, it’s hard to stop the downward spiral into negativity. Doubt, frustration and depression often follow close behind. The best thing you can do for yourself is to become aware of your triggers. What starts you down a pessimistic road? Once you recognise the triggers, you can stop negative internal dialogue before it has time to bring you down. As soon as you feel yourself slipping into adverse thinking, pivot into the positive.

 2.    Squandering time.

 Texts. Emails. Social media. Television. All great things—and all extremely distracting. Technology is a tremendous resource. It gets you connected and provides access to valuable information. But at the same time, can be super easy to get sucked into diversions and foolishness. We love our gadgets and zoning out in front of the television or gaming console. But what does that really do for you? When your mom told you that you were rotting your brain staring at the TV she had a point. How many successful people do you know who waste hours every day being a couch potato? Stop mindlessly flipping through channels. Stop wasting time obsessively scrolling through social media. Start doing.

 3.    Postponing your personal health.

 You know the excuses: “I’ll go to the gym in the morning.” “I’ll start eating better tomorrow.” “I’ll catch up on my sleep as soon as this project is over.”

The problem is, we keep putting our goals off. And before we know it, we’ve developed an unhealthy habit. The more times in a week you get into the mode of “I’ll do it tomorrow,” the more you embed the bad habit of postponing. Stop dawdling and take charge of your health today.

 4.    Expecting perfection (especially the first time).

 Nothing kills success quicker than the expectation of perfection. Sometimes what you really need is a “good enough for now” solution to get the ball rolling. You have to start with something in order for progress to happen. Stalling while you wait for the perfect idea or the perfect moment will only lead to procrastination. Instead, shift your mindset to expect failure, and learn to keep both eyes out for it. Then take every opportunity you can to learn, improve and refine. You have to begin with something in order to move forward.

 5.    People pleasing.

 Trying to be everything to everyone is a waste of time. The truth is, you should never appease other people if it means severely compromising yourself in the process. Not everyone is going to love and adore you. In fact, that should inspire you to work harder for those who actually “get” you. It’s time to stand up for yourself. Stop trying to justify yourself to everyone and focus on the friends who accept you. Business is just the same. Focus on killing it in your niche market. Focus on those people who are naturally drawn to you and engaged by your product or services. Stay true to yourself, and you’ll end up being more helpful to others.

 6.    Thinking you already know the answer.

 Don’t let your ego kill your opportunities. So many entrepreneurs fail simply because they don’t know what they don’t know. They walk into a new industry or start a company with the confidence that they’ve got it all figured out. This attitude, however, tends to be a fast track to failure. Don’t let your arrogance stand in your way. Believing that you’ve always got the right answer means you will stop asking questions, and in the long run that is both dangerous and limiting. Try talking less and listening more.

 7.    Not reading.

 It doesn’t matter how busy you are; reading is essential. There is so much to be learned from the great minds that have gone before. If you shut books out simply because they’re “boring” or you “don’t have enough time,” you’re doing yourself a disservice. Start the day by reading a good book for just 30 minutes, and you’ll be shocked by the new worlds of information that open up to you. Reading is the cornerstone to learning. Stop learning and you’ll start failing. If you want to achieve your goals, you should invest in the skill of reading.

 8.    Multitasking.

 Recent studies have proven that multitasking isn’t really a thing. You can jump back and forth between two activities, but you can’t juggle both at the same time. The only exception is if one activity is extremely passive, like driving while listening to a podcast. Productivity relies on focus. You need to be present and fix your attention on the information you are receiving in order to act on it or react to it. The minute you try to multitask, you are breaking your concentration and your efficiency drops like a ball you can’t catch in time. All multitasking does is interrupt your flow. Do one thing at a time, and you’ll do it better and faster.

 9.    Fear of failure.

 People tend to view this as a personality trait more than a habit. But like anything else, if you allow the fear of failure to become ingrained, it becomes a difficult habit to break. Every time you avoid doing something because you’re afraid of failing, you’re practicing that bad habit. Instead, practice embracing new challenges without letting worry and anxiety hold you back. After all, failing is part of life. The only true failure is letting fear limit you or prevent you from moving forward. When you fall down (and you will), get back up and keep trying. That’s the only way of breaking free and empowering yourself to fly.

 10. Not keeping promises to yourself and others.

 A promise is a declaration that you will do something or will keep from doing something. It is your word, and it is an integral part of building respect and integrity. Again, keeping or breaking your promises can become a habit. If you get into the habit of constantly breaking your word, that speaks volumes about the type of person that you are. Start with yourself. If you make a promise to yourself, keep it. If you don’t respect your own boundaries and your own internal pact, then why should anyone else? The only thing worse than pushing aside a promise or a pledge to yourself is doing it to someone else. Follow through on your obligations. If you say you’re going to do something, do it. Any inconsistency in your word will end up biting you in the long run.

 11. Hanging around negative people.

 Take a look at the people with whom you spend time. Are your friends goal-oriented? Do they have their own passions? Are you pushing each other to be your best, or are they bringing you down with their own issues and insecurities? Who you hang out with has a huge impact on who you become—and ultimately on what you choose to do with your time. Don’t fall into the trap of staying steadfast to people who are flakes or can’t find happiness in anything. Everyone has a bad day, and we all lean on friends when we are going through rough times. But avoid those who are stuck in a persistent state of negativity. They will only bring you down with their sour mindset.

 12. Blaming others for your mistakes.

 Nothing breeds failure faster than blame, especially in a team environment. Blaming others is a bad habit that all too often is picked up by others and becomes destructive. As soon as one team leader does it, secondary leaders feel like it’s okay to do it too. Blame is a virus. It is essentially transferring your sense of guilt or inadequacy to someone else. This habit can ruin a team or a company from the inside because it allows the initial problem to fester. If you don’t accept your missteps, you will never learn the important lessons that can prevent future mistakes and lead to growth. You can put an end to blame spreading simply by owning your mistakes. It may feel painful to admit your blunder. But by taking on an attitude of “the blame stops here,” you will earn people’s respect and appreciation.

 13. Saying yes to too many things.

 Some entrepreneurs find it difficult to say no to things, which ends up causing chaos in their lives. When you say yes to things you don’t really want to do, or you don’t have the time to do, you aren’t doing anyone a favour. If you let obligations rule your life and regularly spread yourself too thin, you will end up grouchy, exhausted and constantly underperforming. Saying yes to many things devalues your time, and wastes the time of the other person, who is going to expect you to keep your word. Learn to just say no.

 14. Overspending and undersaving.

 Whether we’re talking about personal finances or the finances of a company, fiscal responsibility is a foundation that every person needs to master. It’s a bad habit to start spending money you don’t have, and an even worse habit to make decisions based on money not yet in the bank.

Being unable to budget will leave you scrambling in the long run. What happens when you lose your job or you or someone you care for gets sick and can’t work? Remember, rainy days are ahead. Financial well-being gives you the ability to take advantage of opportunities and provides you with a sense of financial security. Why spend your valuable energy constantly worrying about how you will pay your bills? If you overspend and undersave, you are setting yourself up for an anxiety-ridden lifestyle, in which you are driven by your desire (and need) to make more money rather than your desire to achieve your goals and dreams in life.

 15. Seeking validation.

 As soon as you start making decisions out of a need for validation, as opposed to doing what’s right or what provides people the most value, you’ve set yourself up for failure. Validation is fleeting and doesn’t actually get you anywhere. If your desire to be seen as successful overpowers your hunger to attain success, you might as well pack your bags. Success doesn’t always come with approval from those around you. And some of the most successful people shy away from recognition because they are driven more by their own sense of purpose than by what others think of them. In the long run, knowing that you’ve achieved your goals and done your best should give you all the sense of accomplishment and validation you need.

 16. Forgetting the long-term vision.

 Short-sighted decisions lead to short-term victories, and may not get you any closer to your long-term goals. If you’re thinking solely about tomorrow, you’re going to continue working like mad to stay alive just one more day, every day. And that is a sure fire recipe for burnout. You should always be working toward your long-term vision. That is your greatest tool for success because it gives you the perspective to look into the future and envision where you want to go and how you want to get there. It helps you be strategic about which sacrifices today will pay dividends in the years to come. Without long-term vision, you’ll be stuck in the grind forever.

 17. Staying too loyal.

 Loyalty is an admirable trait. We should all operate in good faith and with the best of intentions.  But loyalty should never supersede logic or reality. For instance, retaining negative or unproductive people out of a sense of loyalty is harmful to both your company and yourself. Sure, give people time. Help them through their current difficulties, or be willing to teach and nurture them. But at some point, if they aren’t cut out for the job, you have to let them go. Otherwise you’re just dragging around dead weight that will ultimately drag you down too.

 18. Being reactive instead of proactive.

 Your days cannot be dictated by what’s coming at you. There will always be another meeting, another fire to put out or another task to tend to. These everyday burdens must not bog you down to the point that you become myopic. Rather, always weigh your options and consider what your best course of action is. If all you are doing is reacting, you are in a sinking boat, so busy bailing yourself out that you have no time to row. Don’t blame circumstances or conditions for curtailing your objectives. Things always come up, and you’ll just have to deal with them. You have to make conscious decisions about what you are doing rather than float from one thing to the next. Know your goals for each day, and let those drive you. Take care of everything else as best you can, but recognize that you must stay mindful of your purpose and be thoughtful about how you proceed.

 19. Showing up late.

 We all run behind sometimes. It happens. But nobody likes to be constantly kept waiting. It’s unproductive, impolite and sets the wrong tone. You come off as disorganised and incompetent—hardly the image you want to project.

Try setting an alarm on your phone to remind yourself to leave for your appointment or meeting. Resist the urge to fit one more thing into your schedule. Instead, cultivate the habit of showing up 15 minutes early. We live in an age where we can work from our mobile devices. Worst case scenario, you can always kill those 15 minutes by responding to emails.

 20. Not clearing your mind.

 The daily stress and pressures of this world pile up fast and can easily weigh you down if you’re not careful. If you don’t make time to take care of your mental health, it will catch up with you. We all need a way to relieve stress. No one can grind 24–7, 365 days a year. We aren’t robots. And besides, even robots need maintenance. You need to take an hour here or an evening there to just unwind. Clear your head. Go for a walk. Try meditating for 15 or 30 minutes a day, and you will see amazing results in your focus and productivity. Stepping away can often give you a better perspective on whatever obstacle or problem you are facing.

 21. Poorly managing your social life.

 Humans are social animals; it’s in our DNA. Having no social life isn’t healthy because it leaves you without an outlet or a way of connecting with others. Having too much of a social life isn’t good either, as you’ll likely be distracted, unfocused and unable to see your goals clearly. You need to find a balance that works for you. The intention should be to find people with whom you enjoy socialising. We all need friends who will listen to us and console us. We need our tribe, who will have our back no matter what. But be careful who you let into your life and how much energy you devote to them. Remember that there is a difference between building lasting friendships and tumbling into social overload.

 22. Letting your mistakes get in the way of your future wins.

 Finally, don’t let what has happened before drive what hasn’t yet happened. Certainly you should take the time to reflect and learn from your mistakes. But don’t let fear of failure hold you back or dictate how you proceed. And, most important of all, don’t shy away from opportunities just because you failed before. If you are constantly walking in the shadow of your self-doubt, you will never step into the sunshine. Let go of your past and grab hold of your future. Believing in yourself is the first step on the path to success.

Article by Deep Patel.

[fanfictionconnectionwordpress]

How would the RFA + Minor Trio react if they found MC's suicide note, read it and then finds MC just as she is about to attempt suicide? This not because of them, but because of her, as she has been depressed and suicidal for a really long time, due to her past and family events. But she never told them about this because she always kept up this happy facade infront of them? Also, could it have a happy ending please?

***Intensity level 1000. This is gonna be quite the ask. Obviously this entire thing is a trigger warning, I don’t think I can make that any more clear than the ask itself. ~Let’s Connect! FFC***

If you are suicidal- Please seek professional help. There are lots of call centers and other resources to help you out there. Remember you are valuable~

Characterbreakdown: Good Ending Original Route Characters, Secret Ending 02 Saeran, VGood Ending, my version of Vanderwood as seen in my VanderwoodBackstory Fanfiction 

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Vanderwood:

He’s so perceptive that he has always suspected there was something wrong, but upon finding the note his brain is in overdrive.

Vanderwood actually has to completely shut himself down mentally in order to function, because he has to work logically or there’s no way his tracking skills are going to do him any good.

Full on agent mode, it takes him only a few minutes to find you in the attic with one of his weapons.

“Baby, hey…” His voice almost spooked you, especially since it’s a bit choked with tears, agent mode wearing off so fast it’s almost unbelievable.

Vanderwood talks you into handing over the weapon and then wraps you up in his arms, insisting on taking you to the hospital where you’ll get the professional care you need.

He’s with you constantly through your inpatient treatment, sleeping in the chair in your room, because no way is he letting you out of his sight.

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Jumin:

His immediate reaction is to call his bodyguards to search the entire building of the penthouse. It’s a big place and there’s lots of area to hide in.

When he gets the call that you’ve been found on the roof, he is there immediately, already on the phone with the hospital to have you admitted for urgent care.

You’re cowering away from the guards, almost ready to jump when Jumin arrives, and he just holds his hand out to you with this pained look on his face. ‘Come with me, MC…please don’t do this.’

Unfortunately, the shock and stress is too much, but a guard manages to grab you before you pass out.

When you wake up in the hospital, your shoulder is dislocated, but you’re alive.

Jumin is sitting at the edge of your bed, hands folded under his mouth before he wakes up upon you shifting in the bed. ‘MC!’

It’s unusual to see him with so much worry and tension plainly visible on his face.

The man will not stop stroking your hair, and no expense is spared in getting you the best professionals to treat you.

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Yoosung:

He spends at least a solid minute staring at the note in his hands before it fully processes in his head.

He’s going to lose the person who means the most to him again.

Yoosung starts running frantically through the house, opening doors like a madman before he finds you and just runs at you pulling you into his arms.

Unfortunately for him, that means he ends up getting a little bit acidentally stabbed, which makes you start freaking out because that was not part of the plan.

Sweet Yoobby just winces and keeps holding you as you’re dialing for emergency services. 'It’s okay, precious girl; as long as you’re okay.’

You’re both gonna be in the hospital for a bit, but on the bright side he managed to save you and he calls the scar he earns his 'badge of love.’

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V:

Not again. Rika had never made good on her threats, but this note…

V found you in the bedroom with a menagerie of bottles which he hoped the contents of had yet to be consumed.

'Darling…come for a walk with me.’ He knew better now than to try to convince you that everything was fine or you’d feel better in the morning or that, 'Our love can defeat anything.’

He managed to convince you to come along, but the walk you took was a walk to the hospital where he enlisted his childhood friend Jumin’s help in getting you the best of care.

V was careful in his presence, being near to you and supporting you, but trying not to get poetic or artistic about your pain and speaking very little so as to let your doctors do their work without much interference.

This way you could get the help you truly deserved and not his regurgitated poetry.

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Jaehee:

This couldn’t possibly be real, just earlier you had been laughing with the customers, but Jaehee was learned in a number of subjects thanks to the many research projects she’d been involved with at C&R and she knew better than to treat the note on her desk flippantly.

Thankfully, she was in good shape, casting off her shoes so that she could run along the streets to find you not far from the motorway.

Jaehee is a lot stronger than she looks judo queen, and she grabs you and just will not let go no matter how you struggle as tears are streaming down both of your faces.

'I won’t let you do this, MC!’

Once you seem to have worn yourself out, she immediately takes you to a hospital, pleading her former boss to assist her, which he does 'for the good of the RFA.’despite the grudge he’d built up.

It’s a blow to her ego, but that doesn’t really matter, considering the circumstances, she’s just happy you’re getting the care you need

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Zen:

Thank God he reads quickly, because it gave him the precious time he needed to find you already bleeding in the bathroom, immediately calling emergency from his phone and then holding you.

‘C'mon, princess, let’s escape from the dragon and make our way back to our kingdom.’

He’s started mumbling sweet romantic nothings to you at this point, not just to comfort you as you meekly cry, but also to comfort himself because he doesn’t know what else to do.

Zen will blame himself for always being away from the apartment working on his career and takes a leave of absence from the stage to help you in your recovery, even though it’s hard on him with the call of the stage embedded in his mind.

He will eventually rejoin the stage and you will rejoin society after the hospital releases you much healthier than when you went in.

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Seven:

Our tomato boy had always thought your joking around was just a facet of your personality, perhaps in denial that it was a similar coping mechanism to his own, but it was blatantly obvious now.

Seven yelled out the command to shut down the robo dog’s attack command, having no idea how you’d gotten a hold of that remote in the first place or why you would choose such a method.

He can’t help himself from making a joke about burnt toast and overcooked meat thanks to his own coping method, as tactless as it is, as he wraps you up in his arms with this look of extreme pain on his face that you’d only seen on his face when his brother had been in recovery.

Thankfully, Seven doesn’t try to be your doctor the way he did with his brother.

He brings a multitude of toys and gadgets though, making so many jokes and trying so hard to make your time there not seem so bleak that you eventually have to be the one to tell him to relax and let up before he drives himself into some joke induced coma.

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Saeran:

Reading thoughts similar to what had been his own once upon a time is like looking into the worst possible mirror. How could he not have noticed?

Saeran tries to push himself into that head-space that he’d long ago left behind, despite the tremendous headache it’s giving him.

It helps him think through where you could be and what you could be doing, bringing down the list of potential hiding places in his brother’s massive bunker significantly.

His headache is almost causing his vision to blur by the time he finds you, which causes his vision to blur from tears as he tries his best to hold you up so that the rope doesn’t constrict your airway.

It’s Seven who finds you, that strange and odd connection he has to his twin leading him straight to you in his own panic and calling the emergency services.

The fortunate news is Saeran got to you quickly enough and you hadn’t snapped anything when you stepped off the chair.

It doesn’t take long for doctors to realize that Saeran is in need of increasing his own therapy visits again with the way he paces around and holds his head, muttering to himself in your hospital room as you sleep.

Thankfully, the RFA has such good access to professional resources so that you’re able to go through recovery together.

Even if you have to be separated for a time, it’s for the best, in order to be the best self you can be to keep from causing relapses in behavior back and forth in a vicious cycle between the two of you.

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