A/N: Prompt by dialogue-prompts: "I'm torn between looking like a snack or eating one..."

"How can you be cool with this?" Toby asked, pacing his room as Jim sat on his bed, acting like life as they knew it wasn't about to end. He was texting Claire. There was an easy smile on his face.

But then Jim responded, "I'm not, Tobes. Honest."

"Oh, is that why you're texting your girlfriend instead of paying attention to your panicking BFF?"

Jim put his phone away, and then sat up, paying attention now.

"Okay, look, I know you're freaking out. I'm freaking out too. But there's nothing we can do right now."

"Nothing we can do?! Jimbo, Morgana wants to destroy Arcadia! You know, our home. And" — Toby gasped — "what's next? The world? We gotta go take the fight to her."

Jim was tapping his feet against the floor now, fingers anxiously tapping his lap. "Merlin said—"

Toby went over and grabbed Jim's face, bringing him within mere inches of himself. "Forget Merlin! He's an old — what is he? — fart! He's an old fart. A crusty, stupid, old, whiny man."

"Whiny?"

"Forget it," Toby said, releasing Jim. "And what's the end of the world gonna do to me, huh? Darcy and I were just really getting serious. My entire brain right now is telling me to binge eat. You want me to binge eat, Jim? 'Cause I'm not sure how much more food this gorgeous bod can take."

"Toby, you're overreacting."

"Overreacting?" Toby hissed.

Jim rolled his eyes and got up. "Look, the only thing keeping me from freaking out is, well, not thinking about it."

"But you're Jim, Jim! You have anxiety. You panic."

"Noted."

"Why not now?"

"I don't know, Tobes. I'm tired."

Toby shook his head, dropping the conversation. But as he observed Jim, even while he still paced, he noticed his friend was nervous. His muscles seemed tense, he was breathing a bit heavy, there was a hint of red to his cheeks. Was that sweat in his hairline? It seemed like his right foot couldn't stop moving either, even now that he was lying down again. He gripped his phone too tightly too, thumbs moving too fast as he texted. By the looks of it, Jim was barely holding it together.

Toby sighed and sat down, pressed up against Jim's shins.

Should Toby give in and eat? Or would that be too much for his awesome body to handle right now?

"Jim, we have a problem."

"I know, Tobes."

"No. A serious problem. I'm torn between looking like a snack, or eating one."

Jim lowered his phone, an easy smile alighting his face.

"What if we do both?"

"Uh, you wish you looked like a snack like this." Toby gestured to himself as he spoke. Jim laughed, and Toby went on, "So… nougat nummies? Not like the world's ending or anything," he finished sarcastically.

"Sure, Tobes."

Jim got up to get them from downstairs.

Toby then said something to add to his trip, "And ooh, what about some tacos?"

"Tacos and the apocalypse?"

"Yeah, why not?"

"I'll get right on it. Hold down the fort, and uh… keeping staying a snack."

Toby sent finger guns Jim's way, and said, "Right on it."