#(it’s normally spelled with 1 n & there’s actually stuff in that tag)

[dozydawn]

Vintage French Lipstick Handkerchief

it reads Honni soit qui mal y pense. “shame on him who thinks evil of it.”

[humm-bird]

I posted 1,579 times in 2022

That's 1,570 more posts than 2021!

87 posts created (6%)

1,492 posts reblogged (94%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@8ball-wizard

@skulkie

@warriorsofficial

@greywizard-reporter-jim

@gavamont

I tagged 288 of my posts in 2022

#wizardposting - 117 posts

#wizard council - 63 posts

#wizard - 60 posts

#wizard shit - 23 posts

#skeleton war - 17 posts

#not my art - 13 posts

#art - 11 posts

#my art - 11 posts

#my ocs - 8 posts

#my oc world - 8 posts

Longest Tag: 106 characters

#mel and shandzii and pada i love all your oc stuff thank you for getting me more invested in my own ocs :)

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

i hope your precious wizard council burns to the ground. fucking skelenerd sympathiser.

Who said I like the wizard council, I most certainly do not.

Who said I'm a skeleton sympathiser? I'm pissed at them for starting the war!

58 notes - Posted November 16, 2022

#4

Okay so sea shanties are cool n all

but

we're nearing the space age

SPACE SHANTIES

if this is an actual thing please ruthlessly spam the reblogs of this with links.

65 notes - Posted October 23, 2022

#3

Given the current controversy of the Hexfruit case, I would like to pledge my support towards Hexfruit and the local caster councils that are suppressed by the multiversal ones. While some regulations make sense, the ones on lichdom are downright unfair. As for spells like Greater Baja Blast, Supreme Baja Blast, and Ketamine Ape, my local wizard/artificer council has ruled that they are rather harmless compared to the kind of things we need to deal with on a regular basis. Trust me, a Ketamine Ape is pathetic once you've had to fight of your third thousand-foot tall godly monster this year. All in all, the wizard council should impose their rules on a dimension-by-dimension basis, not impose their rules where they have been specifically asked to fuck off, and ESPECIALLY not impose their rules in a place between multiverses that would not fall under their jurisdiction even under normal circumstances. I do respect how these councils want to ward against intermultiversal collapse, but this is too far. Seriously, if you bastards come back literally all of the gods will smite you. I'll hit your frail asses with my pickaxe-axe-welding torch-hammer-wrench-sword multitool. Feyosha is fine tho obv they're just keeping workplace safety. [To clarify, I am refering to both thewizardcouncil and wizardscouncil]

74 notes - Posted October 4, 2022

#2

Hey guys what spells should I learn

I want to be a spellsmith (local slang for artificer) and I was wondering what spells I should learn to enchant the things I make.

76 notes - Posted September 28, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Hey so I'm gonna make a Wizard Tumblr Wizard Council animation

not sure what it's gonna entail but I'll figure it out.

77 notes - Posted October 22, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[titan-fodder]

Pyroclastic (Mike Zacharias x Reader)

Summary: Some would argue that the park is dead, but you know better; it’s livelier than it has been in hundreds of thousands of years, a shuddering, breathing monster finally rising to its feet after an eternity of slumber. Soon, it will open its mouth in an earth-shattering scream, and then, everyone will see.

Not dead; just waking up.

Rating: E (explicit)

Word Count: ~19.5K

Warnings: slow burn, friends to lovers, Eruri, implied Mobuhan, spelling Miche ‘Mike’, swearing, fighting, lots of nerdy shit, explicit sexual content, breeding kink

A/N: This is my contribution to the Smut Pile’s Apocalypse collab. I urge everyone to check out all the pieces on the masterlist. A big thanks to @pleasantanathema​ and @whats-her-quirk​ for being about as excited about this as I was, to @shadowworks​ for always encouraging me when I take on projects too big for my own good, and to @mindninjax​ who volunteered her husband’s expertise on this. I’m pretty proud of this piece and had a blast writing and researching for it. This is by no means scientifically accurate, but I did my best to make it realistic (as in I watched Supervolcano again and spent a lot of time on the USGS website). Also, I have been to Yellowstone exactly one (1) time in my life and was terrified the entire time which is where my fixation with it comes from. 

Enjoy~

GLOSSARY

Caldera - large basin-shaped volcanic depression with a diameter many times larger than its included volcanic vents; commonly formed when magma is withdrawn or erupted from a shallow, underground magma reservoir.*

Pyroclastic flow - A hot (typically >800 °C), chaotic mixture of rock fragments, gas, and ash that travels rapidly (tens of meters per second) away from a volcanic vent or collapsing flow front.*

Tephra -  pieces of all fragments of rock ejected into the air by an erupting volcano.

VEI - The Volcanic Explosivity Index (VEI) is a relative measure of the explosiveness of volcanic eruptions.*

*definitions taken from USGS website

4  Y E A R S  B E F O R E 

Levi looks pissed when he’s on screen. He looks pissed all the time, but he looks especially pissed when he’s made to stand in front of pointed cameras and outstretched microphones. 

You can’t blame him; it’s not actually his job to deal with the press, but some years ago, Erwin had twisted his arm this way and that and convinced Levi to take over conferences.

“They understand you better,” he’d said. “You enunciate better than me. We can’t have people misunderstanding me and panicking, can we?” The blond had purposely spoken with an accent thicker than usual, and Levi had called him every name under the sun, but in the end, he’d relented, and now…

“Dr. Ackermann! Dr. Ackermann! Is it true that this has been the largest earthquake in Yellowstone since Hebgen Lake?” 

Levi squints, actually cringes at the question, then waves one of his small, bony hands. “Hebgen Lake was a major quake—7.2 on the Richter scale. This was only a 5.3, and yeah, it’s been a while since the park has had a quake larger than a three, but that doesn’t mean—”

“So, should we be worried about a supereruption?” Another reporter asks, and you clamp a hand over your mouth to keep from laughing as the light leaves your colleague’s eyes. 

Levi’s jaw slides, and he pauses, no doubt to think about how to answer because this is a delicate question, one that the general public always reads extremely far into. He’s good at keeping his expression blank, at least, probably another reason Erwin requested he take over interviews. 

“Listen,” he starts off, slate eyes locking onto the largest camera in front of him. “Yellowstone is a hub of seismic energy. It wouldn’t be the park we know and love today if it wasn’t shaking and letting off steam like it usually does, right?” This gains a few relieved chuckles from the crowd of journalists. 

“Was this earthquake bigger than the ones we’re used to? Yes. Are we monitoring each and every tremor that we pick up? Also, yes. So, don’t make yourself sick worryin’ about sh—stuff you can’t control. We’ll let you know if it’s time to worry.” He sucks his teeth for a second, waiting for his advice to wash over everyone, then adds, “Keep a bug-out bag packed, though. Not because of the volcano or anything. Just because… The world is crazy and so are people, and it’s always good to be prepared.”

They take it as a joke, laugh a little louder as Levi steps down from the podium, but you’ve worked with him long enough to know he had made the comment with serious intent. It’s a lot easier to fly out of town at a moment’s notice when you already have the necessities packed, and though he won't tell them all the facts this early on, there’s a chance that they will eventually have to evacuate, yes. 

“I fucking hate that big, blond bastard,” is the first thing Levi tells you when he’s within earshot, much less well-spoken in casual situations than when his face is being broadcasted. “Voht iff they dunt understahnd me, Lebi?” He mimics your boss badly then pantomimes an uppercut with a dramatic grunt. 

“Why’d you make him sound Russian?”

“I was trying to make him sound stupid ‘cause that’s what he is.”

“I have four doctorates,” Erwin states as he falls into step with both of you, finally moving from his little hiding place behind one of the news trucks. “I’m not stupid. And, I do not sound like that.”

“That’s what you think,” Levi grumbles, doing his best to shrug away from the larger man when Erwin slings an arm around his shoulders. It doesn’t work, and Levi ends up stumbling to keep up with Erwin’s longer strides, which only serves to irritate him further. 

“You looked good up there. I mean, you sounded good. Sounded sure, comforting…” 

You shake your head at Erwin’s obvious struggle to just not be the big weirdo that he is, but it sure is painful to watch sometimes. 

Governor Zachary takes over the conference, leaving the three of you to make your way inside the lodge that the emergency broadcast was set up outside of. Levi and Erwin bicker through the lobby then through the back doors that lead you to the jeep that you all swing yourselves into. 

The sky is still a little dusty with shaken sediment, and some of the park rangers are setting up barricades at the mouths of a couple hiking trails leading to what is now a moderately large crevasse that’s opened up in the Biscuit Basin. 

Other than that, the park doesn’t feel much different as you ride through it on your way back to the lab. The Summer sun brings with it your favorite 70 degree days, and if it weren’t for Erwin’s questionable driving, you’d be tempted to hang half your body out the window just to feel the warmth better. The faint smell of sulfur in the air is soothing at this point—the smell of activity, the smell of science, the smell of home. Geysers are still shooting boiling water to the skies. The mud pots are still bubbling like ominous cauldrons. That earthquake couldn’t have shaken too much out of place if all the geothermal spots are still behaving as they normally do.

The tires kick up rocks and dust as Erwin brakes dramatically outside of the base, right behind another familiar jeep that makes Levi roll his eyes. 

“Great. The boy scout’s here.” 

“Oh, be nice, you little grump,” Erwin chastises him. “Mike’s been nothing but kind to us since he started working here.”

“Yeah, except for the time he misjudged the depth of that puddle and—”

“Splashed you with mud, yeah, yeah, we know, Levi,” you finish for him as you slide out of the vehicle. “You bring it up every time you see the guy. We know.”

“And, didn’t he apologize afterward?” Erwin prompts.

Levi doesn’t answer, but you respond for him: “Profusely. Drove him back to the lab, offered him his spare change of clothes—”

“Useless,” Levi hisses. “The dude’s a giant.”

“Not his fault he’s…” You try not to sound too giddy when you step through the door and see the man in question. “Enormous.” 

You don’t know Mike very well, one of the newer park rangers but with a background in geology which leads him to your neck of the woods very often. The few conversations you have had with him have all been pleasant. He’s soft-spoken but obviously intelligent with good instincts about both the park’s weather and wildlife. 

He’s also the only ranger you’ve seen actually pull off the dorky park uniform, but that could just be because the different shades of green look good against his tan skin and bring out his light eyes. Even taller than Erwin and a little broader too, M. Zacharias (as his little, metal name tag reads) is a slab of a man, and yet, when he grins, it’s almost boyish. 

“Hey, Mike, what’s up?” You greet.

He turns his head to look at you, flipping shaggy hair from his face, then offers one of the soft smiles you were hoping for. “Just came to drop off some samples for Hange.”

“Disgusting,” Levi mutters just for you to hear as he passes, and you shove him hard enough to make him stumble and flip you off. 

“How’d the press conference go?” Hange asks, tossing a small, corked flask of mud from hand to hand—what you assume to be the sample—while twirling in their computer chair. The last member of your team, Moblit Berner, glances away from the holographic model he’s studying to hear the answer. 

“I think it went well,” Erwin says. “Levi handled it like a champion, as always.”

“Flattery will get you nowhere, old man,” the brunet bites out, joining Moblit next to the expensive projection table in the middle of the lab. “What’re we lookin’ at?”

“I’m just running the numbers from today’s quake. The possible effects it had underground.”

“And?”

Moblit is quiet for a beat too long.

“Mobs, what is it?” 

You, Erwin, and Hange make your way over to the table, staring at the laser-lit park model and the chamber underneath it. 

“Well, in most of the scenarios, it’s fine,” Moblit tries. “Nothing to worry about.”

“And, in the others?” 

He looks to Erwin, as everyone does in times of concern. Thick eyebrows pinched together, your boss motions to the hologram. “Show us.”

Moblit punches a few things in on the app he uses to control the model, then takes a deep breath and lets it play out for everyone to see, including Mike who slowly makes his way over, curiosity apparently getting the best of him. 

At first, nothing looks to change, just a living, breathing reenactment of what you were seeing today—every geyser, every fumarole, every little rumble, every minute rise and fall of the ground sped up to be detected with the human eye. 

And then, it stops. 

“Why did it…”

“Just watch,” Moblit shushes you. 

The outline of the ground fractures in several different places, statistics for different earthquakes blinking above. The known vents of the park—every geyser, mudpot, and fumarole—are rendered inactive, and under it all, that massive chamber everyone is always so worried about begins to bulge upward and outward, growing larger and larger until…

The map shorts out, flickering then disappearing entirely, leaving the six of you staring at the space where it was shining just seconds ago. 

“Was that…” 

Erwin inhales deeply through his nose before exhaling the word that will eventually bring the nation to its knees.

"Supereruption."

3  Y E A R S  B E F O R E

Even through the thick headset, the whir of the helicopter blades is loud, a rhythm pulsing through the air strong enough to be felt in your chest right alongside your beating heart. 

Thankfully, Mike’s deep voice is loud and clear when he speaks, nodding his head to the right, “Look down at about two o’clock.”

You follow his command, tilting your head and peering down at an empty field. 

“I don’t see anything,” you say.

The microphone hanging in front of his mouth picks up his chuckle, and the sound of it echoes in your ears, making you grin albeit a little confused. 

“Exactly. That’s a big spot for bison this time of year.”

“Then why aren’t they here?”

Mike lets the chopper hover for a while, both hands still on their respective control levers. 

“Ground’s been moving too much,” he says after a few seconds of silent staring. You’d known the answer already but hearing the wildlife expert confirm it fills you with a little more dread than you’d originally harbored. “They feel things we don’t, the tiny quakes, the tremors. Stuff you only think the seismograph picks up—they feel all of it.”

“They know what’s coming,” you say more to yourself than to him. 

Mike offers you one of those charming, close-lipped smiles. “When in doubt, trust the animals.” 

A line you’ve heard him say a few times now. Mike loves everything that lives in the park, from all the common lake trout and sand cranes to the endangered grizzly bears and gray wolves. 

Trust the animals, he says. Because he trusts them. Because he loves them. 

“You wanna fly over the Grand Prismatic?” Mike asks, pulling you from your thoughts, and when you look over, you find your reflection in his mirrored aviators as he stares at you. 

His mouth quirks up at the corners, causing yours to do the same, and you nod. “Yeah, always.”

It’s your favorite view in the park, the colorful spring from up above. Mike had learned that a few months ago, and now whenever you ride in the chopper with him, he makes sure to pass over the beautiful attraction just for you.

Nearly 200° Fahrenheit with a pH of 8.7, the pool, while still dangerous due to its temperature, is one of the more moderate dangers of the national park, tame in comparison to the Norris Geyser Basin with temperatures up to 459° (a thousand meters below the surface, anyway) and a pH of about two. It’s dissolved bones—human bones. And, would claim even more if given the chance. 

You suppose that’s expected for a basin that’s sitting over a chamber of 1,500° molten magma. 

The Grand Prismatic is just as stunning today as it is every other. Its outer orange and yellow rings darken to greens and blues the further inward you look, thick steam rising from all over but more condensed over the middle. 

It was one of the park's biggest attractions, tourists flocking to the spring with their cameras, too stricken by the vivid chromaticism to listen or read about the temperatures and microbials that are responsible for the colors in the first place. 

As you hover above now, just to the side of the steam, your heart aches. There are no ignorant tourists to take pictures of the pool, the boardwalks and trails to these hot spots now blocked off once it became apparent that the earthquake that took place last year was not the last of its kind. Your team as well as the park rangers went to the park board as a unit and suggested that tourists needed to be kept away from as many geothermal features as possible, all of you with the same fear in mind: someone (or many someones) falling in. 

It's always been a risk, but now, with weekly rumblings, that risk has multiplied exponentially. All it takes is someone losing their footing on the boardwalk over the Norris Geyser Basin for serene sightseeing to turn into tragedy, and that's on a good day. Throw a 5.7 earthquake into the mix, and the park could lose an entire tour group to the heat and acid. 

It's just not a risk any of you are willing to take anymore. 

Most of the park remains open. Old Faithful continues to draw people in by the thousands. They sit and watch boiling water shoot into the sky every hour or so, clapping happily at the sight, unaware of the way you and your team hold your breath in wait, hoping for the geyser to go off on its usual schedule. 

One day it will stop. One day they'll all stop. And, then… 

"I can't believe it's all gonna be gone one day," you muse, blinking down at the prismatic pool for as long as Mike will let you. 

"Nah," the man disagrees. "Not gone. Buried, yeah, but not gone."

You snort, turn back to him with a grin and roll your eyes. "Yeah, no big deal. Just miles of pyroclast and ash, probably snow when we get thrust into another ice age 'cause of the crazy climate swing..."

"Alright, alright, I get it. The sun dimeth and the land sinketh."

"Gusheth forth steam and gutting fire," you continue grimly.

Mike turns the helicopter back toward the landing zone, saying nothing else and leaving you to take in the sights below. You're grateful for the silence; it's good for processing, for preparation. 

And, you're grateful for Mike, one of your best friends at this point—soft and kind despite his intimidating stature, smart as a whip, and just as stunning, if not more so, than the Grand Prismatic. 

"Any idea what you'll do afterward?" He asks, holding a hand out to you to help you from your seat in the chopper. 

"Not really. Survive, I guess." 

You land just a little too close to him, your face nearly coming in direct contact with his broad chest, but Mike steps back just in time, making you extend your arm, still connected at the fingers, before he drops your hand. 

"A feat all on its own," he says flatly, but he perks up as you both begin walking to the park ranger base. "Maybe you'll find another team to work on."

"I don't want to find another team," you tell him honestly. "This is my team. This is my home."

Mike hums, an understanding little sound, body warm when he gently bumps into you on the gravel pathway to the lodge. "Yeah, I know."

A geophysics major at UCLA with a specific interest in volcanology, getting to intern with the Erwin Smith at the Yellowstone supervolcano had been a dream come true. You'd expected to gain knowledge and experience—nothing more and nothing less. You'd lived out here for one summer during your graduate program, clocking the field experience you needed to get your degree and taking in everything you could. 

Back then, it felt like all you did was ask questions and get in the way. By the end of that summer, you knew every variation of Levi Ackermann's irritated sighs, every different pitch of Hange Zoe's shouts and how they correlated with their experiments. Moblit had been the newest permanent addition and was even more nervous than he is now, trying and failing to keep up with Hange (which he's much better at doing these days). 

They were all fantastic, but it had been the lead researcher who'd reeled you in. You'd never met anyone as passionate as Dr. Erwin Smith, captivated by the monster underneath the park and thrilled to share his brain with anyone willing to hold their hands out for it. Hell, he'd even helped you with your Master's thesis—hydrothermally altered mineralized systems and their seismic reflections. 

When you graduated, the Yellowstone team was the first you reached out to and the first you heard back from. Erwin said you'd been a perfect fit even as a student (which you hadn't exactly believed but definitely blushed at anyway). Mobs, Hange, and even Levi seemed happy to have you back. It was like you were meant to be here. In this park. With all of them. 

Studying the volcano and all of its properties has always been like breathing to you—natural and necessary. You move when it moves, every shake and tremor a heartbeat in your own chest, every shooting geyser like blood in your veins. The mudpots are your bubbling emotions, the fumaroles, your sense of building pressure and release.

You feel at home in the park because you trust it. Because you love it. 

You don't have room for another team in your heart, but as you walk inside the lodge next to Mike, watching as he takes off his sunglasses and grins at one of the other rangers, you think you at least have room for one more person. 

2  Y E A R S  B E F O R E

The lab has two extra bodies in it—two extra unwelcome bodies who keep getting in your way and touching things as they ask questions that no one has the answers to yet.

“When did you say this was going to happen?” The rotund state governor, Dhalis Zachary, asks for the second time since arriving, picking up a sample test tube that Moblit immediately plucks from his hand with a nervous smile.

“As I said before, it’s difficult to place a concrete timeline on an event like this,” Erwin tells the white-haired man. “We don’t exactly have in depth records of the last three eruptions, so all we have to go off of is the earth itself and our simulations.”

At the edge of the projection table, Nile Dok, FEMA director, cautiously waves a hand through the holographic model displayed in front of him. He obviously doesn’t think anyone is watching him because the slender man jumps in surprise when you snort at your desk, and his angular cheekbones take on a pink tint of embarrassment from having been caught.

He clears his throat, straightens the knot that sits over it, then turns to face Erwin and prompts, “Three eruptions before. One was a lot bigger than the others, though, right?”

Erwin nods. “Huckleberry Ridge. Over two million years ago.”

“We’re hoping—if a supereruption is to occur—it’ll be closer to the size of Mesa Falls,” you pipe up.

“Which one was that?” Zachary asks.

“One-point-three million years ago, two-hundred-and-eighty cubic kilometers of erupted materials…” Levi lists off as he makes his way over to the table with a sanitary wipe in hand. He doesn’t like people in his space, doesn’t like strangers in the lab, even (especially) government officials (“They leave fingerprints, and they breathe on everything, and they waste our fucking time.”).

“Two-hundred-and-eighty cubic kilometers… That’s the best-case scenario?” Zachary looks to Erwin, eyebrows raised high over his wire glasses.

Erwin stares at him for a moment, contemplating the best and easiest way to explain this to someone who has no real experience in the field. Eventually, he settles on, “Moblit, can you run some simulations for me?”

“Of course, sir,” the mousy scientist agrees, phone in hand and pulling up the app before the boss can even finish speaking.

Everyone gathers around the table except for Levi who steps away from it, grumbling under his breath about coming back to clean it later. He at least hits the lights, making the model easier to see as Erwin starts listing off numbers and scenarios.

“The best case, actually, is only one vent opening, maybe two. It would be something comparable to Mount St. Helen’s, though probably a bit bigger, say point-five cubic kilometers of material. It would be necessary to evacuate the park and this region of the state at the very least.”

Zachary hums, “And, how likely is that?”

Erwin shrugs. “Hard to say right now. As the earthquakes increase, though, the likelihood of a small eruption like that, uh, dwindles.”

“Small,” Nile scoffs.

Zachary makes a similar noise, slightly louder, a little more offended, then rattles off, “Mount St. Helen’s killed almost sixty people. The blast, the ash, the lahars—” as if you don’t all already know.

“No one’s discounting the damage of the eruption,” Levi cuts him off. “But, if you’re sweatin’ at those numbers, all due respect, Governor, I don’t know if you’re ready to stomach the rest of this little light show.”

The older man cuts his eyes at Levi who squints right back at him, only turn and shuffle over to his desk when Erwin waves him further away, a silent way of saying ‘keep your smart mouth away from the authority figures’.

“Moving on,” you cough, twirling a finger to get both Erwin and Mobs to continue.

“Yes,” Erwin nods. “So, any eruption is dependent on how much magma in the chamber is eruptible magma. Just because it’s there doesn’t mean it will come out.”

Moblit punches in a few numbers to show what a small-scale eruption would look like, first with one vent then with two.

“With just that amount, even with two vents, it isn’t enough to completely destabilize the chamber.”

“And, destabilizing it would be… bad…” Nile states more than asks, brown eyes lit up by the model in front of him.

“No shit,” everyone hears Levi grumble from his desk, and Erwin huffs and looks at you, expression a little exasperated as he jerks a thumb back toward the grumpy man in yet another one of his silent motions— a plea in this case—'go take care of him’ which you do.

Levi is slumped in his computer chair, arms crossed over his chest as he peers over his desktop at the four men gathered around the hologram.

“Should’a just gone with Hange and the boy scout to collect samples when I had the chance,” he mutters.

“You hate collecting samples, especially sulfur samples. Which is what they’re getting now.”

“Yeah, well I hate these guys even more.” He says it quietly enough so that they won’t be able to hear, and even if they could, both Governor Zachary and Nile are too invested in the information that the scientists are giving them to pay attention to anything else.

“What’d they ever do to you?” You push, curious now because sure, Levi has always been the surliest of the team, but it’s rare that he’s surly and loud about it.

“Nothing. They have done nothing because they don’t belong here. They have no idea—no fucking idea—what’s about to happen.” You can hear his frustration even through his whispers. “Best case scenarios? Why are we even going over those? We know damn well that we’re not looking at one or two vents. And, we’re not lookin’ at Mesa Falls either.”

Letting out a long breath, you lean against Levi’s desk, ignoring the way he grunts in protest.

“I know. I’m sure Erwin and Moblit will prep them for the worst case.”

“There’s no prepping for it,” Levi hisses, gray eyes flashing. “We’re talking about—"

“…A nationwide cataclysmic event.” Both of you register Erwin’s voice at the same time and glance at the other group to find them staring at the lit-up simulation of the Huckleberry Ridge eruption.

“Which would pretty quickly turn into a worldwide problem,” Moblit adds quietly.

“Worldwide?” You hear Nile question in a low but very alarmed tone. “Because of the ash?”

“Well, yes, but, it’s not just ash,” Erwin clarifies, diving into his explanation of tephra and how dangerous it is. He reminds the men how far it traveled after the Mount St. Helen’s eruption since they’ve apparently latched onto that one, then challenges, “Now imagine an eruption about… six hundred times that size.”

“Six…” Nile swallows, turning his entire, slender frame toward Erwin and repeating, “Six hundred times bigger? That’s what we’re expecting?”

In his little rolling chair, Levi’s chest puffs a bit, finally satisfied that the gravity of the situation is beginning to set in. “Maybe they aren’t as dumb as they look.”

Erwin is about to say something, right hand lifted with his index finger extended in a very matter-of-fact way, but before he can manage to get anything out, the door to the lab swings open and Hange walks in, Mike just behind them carrying all the collected samples in what almost looks like a lunchbox.

“We’re back—” Hange stops, taking in their surroundings, the lack of lights, the bright projection, the grim energy, then shouts, “Hey, get some Pink Floyd playing! Like a planetarium in here! Is there anybody in there? Just nod if you can hear me…”

“Dr. Zoe,” Moblit clears his throat. “We were just going over the utter devastation a supereruption could wreak on the country.”

“Oh, were you?” Hange pauses, brow rising, lips puckering into a sour expression. “My bad.”

Raising a hand to your forehead, you laugh to yourself for a few seconds before shaking the untimely amusement off and making your way over to Mike to take the sample kit from him.

“Careful,” he warns jokingly as he passes it off. “Got some very fragile gas and mud in there.”

“Yeah?” You tease. “So, I shouldn’t, like, shake it or anything?”

“Definitely should not shake it. Here, here, just—” He takes it back, grinning broadly as he tells you, “I think it’s best if you let a professional handle such dangerous compounds.”

All the doom-and-gloom you had been feeling mere seconds ago evaporates entirely, and you let out a frankly embarrassing giggle as you watch Mike very carefully set the samples down on Hange’s lab table, making a show of securing them and whispering a final, “Stay,” so that you clamp a hand over your mouth.

Levi groans in disgust, and, at the same time, Erwin mutters an apology to Zachary and Nile for, “… employing a team of children.”

Your face heats in embarrassment, but it doesn’t keep you from smiling at Mike when he saunters back over, looking rather sheepish himself.

“Lunchtime soon, right?”

“Yeah, in a bit—”

“Please go now, for the love of God,” Erwin sighs. “And, take Levi and Hange with you.”

None of you need telling twice, quickly grabbing wallets and home-packed meals before rushing from the lab before your boss decides to murder one or all of you.

Levi steers Hange toward his car, leaving you alone with Mike which you don’t mind in the slightest. You take most of your lunches with him anyway, some of your breakfasts and dinners too, so this is simply part of your daily routine.

“I’ve got some sandwiches packed already. Wanna hit Mount Haynes?” He suggests, sliding into the driver’s seat of his jeep.

You point a fingergun at him and nod. “I like the way you think, sir.”

He takes a very specific route, avoiding any damaged areas, having to veer off of the actual road at a certain point to take a safer path he and other rangers have made. You watch the mountains of the park grow closer and closer, what you know to be the ridge of Yellowstone’s caldera looming nearer.

Mike parks at the base of your intended destination then reaches into the backseat to grab the aforementioned lunch. You have no intentions of actually hiking to the top of the mountain—don’t have the time or the will, honestly—but as soon as the two of you have worked up a sweat and are at a decent enough elevation to look out on the park underneath, you drop to the dusty ground and take it all in.

Even from this distance, you can see some of the gases and steam in the air. That’s the only movement there is, though, save for the occasional ranger vehicle zipping along. The land seems almost barren at this point. The grass is still green. The sun is still bright as it is every Summer.

But, there are no animals, no tourists, no real life. Instead, it’s been replaced with cracks and crevasses, with barricades and warning signs.

Trail Closed

Road Closed

Danger: Keep Out

It’s been almost six months since the park decided to shut down to the public, and if you’re being honest, it should have closed its doors long before. It took people dying to bring the board to their senses, an earthquake that shook the ground for minutes, the crust of the earth splitting right under the historical lodge that so many loved.

Fourteen casualties. Twenty-nine injured.

That’s what it took.

You barely recognize the park now, feel like the last endangered species left within its boundaries. It’s just the research team, some of the rangers, and the occasional outside visitor (board members, government officials, or press that gets waved away).

Some would argue that the park is dead, but you know better; it’s livelier than it has been in hundreds of thousands of years, a shuddering, breathing monster finally rising to its feet after an eternity of slumber. Soon, it will open its mouth in an earth-shattering scream, and then, everyone will see.

Not dead; just waking up.

“You look tired.” Mike’s voice may as well be carried by the breeze, light and low, refreshing as it passes over you, and you flash him a smile while nodding.

“Exhausted.”

He grabs a sandwich from the lunchbox, and you fish hand sanitizer from one of the many pockets on your pants, squirting it into your hand first then holding it out to the man beside you.

“Seems like you spend more time here than at your apartment.”

“Oh, most definitely.” You unwrap what looks to be turkey and pepper-jack and try to ignore the way your stomach flips at the fact that it’s your favorite simple-sandwich-combo and that Mike remembered. “Lot to do in the lab. Obviously.” You take a bite—no mustard, only mayo—and feel some of the tension between your shoulder blades begin to unwind.

“Figure you wouldn’t want it any other way, though,” Mike comments before chomping into his own sandwich.

“Right you are. I mean, end of the world, potentially. Scary stuff, but also…” You swallow, lick your lips and stare out at the landscape in front of you as you grapple with words. “It’s like… I’m terrified, but I feel like I’m exactly where I need to be. Like…”

This is how I’m supposed to go out, you almost say, but you’re smart to keep it to yourself. That’s a thought for you and you alone, one you haven’t shared with anyone because nobody else would understand except maybe Erwin.

“This is what you’re meant to do,” Mike supplies, and you look over at him. “This is what you love. I get that.”

And, he’s right. But, the park and volcanology—those aren’t the only things you love.

Mike sits there, legs crossed like an overgrown kindergartener, shaggy hair blowing in the wind, light green eyes so, incredibly warm and bright, and it feels like you can’t breathe anymore, like your lungs and throat are already full of ash that hasn’t fallen yet, tight with dying declarations you can’t bring yourself to make.

“Have you ever heard of Katia and Maurice Krafft?” You ask, and yes, your voice does feel somewhat strangled, the space behind your eyes burning just a little hotter than usual.

Mike shakes his head, takes another bite, and gives you his undivided attention.

“They were these French volcanologists who got really famous for the pictures and footage they took of erupting volcanoes. The recordings they got for the community were—I mean, they were pioneers. They changed the game. There’s photos and videos of them just—” you gesture nebulously with both your hands, nearly flinging your sandwich off the side of the mountain and making Mike reach out and catch your wrist before you can.

“Please, no feeding the park’s wildlife, ma’am,” he jokes easily, and you have to shove the sandwich into your mouth to keep from giggling like a schoolgirl. Mike shows the smallest of satisfied smiles, completely unaware of his own charm, and it’s maddening and intoxicating, and it’s all you can do to keep talking about the brave scientists.

“Anyway,” you continue. “Katia would get, like, within feet of lava flows. Just walkin’ right beside ‘em in her special heat suit. And, they’d wear protective helmets because of, you know—”

“Explosions. Falling rocks.”

 “Yeah, exactly. They were just there, documenting it all happening, nerves of fucking steel. Katia was usually the one gathering samples and stuff while Maurice recorded, but he was right in the thick of it too. This badass couple learning and adventuring together.”

Mike eventually questions, “What happened to them?” but you’re sure he knows the answer when you deflate a bit.

“Mount Unzen eruption—got caught in the pyroclastic flow. Died instantly.”

“At least they were doing what they loved,” he says, and you nod.

You’re silent for a while, neither of you eating but both of you staring. You think about the Kraffts often, especially now with Yellowstone’s imminent eruption. Doing what they loved… They died for their research, and though you never got the chance to meet them or even speak with anyone who has met them, you have a feeling they wouldn’t have wanted it to happen any other way.

“Just so you know,” Mike gets your attention, and when you look over at him, your heart swells.

The sun is reflected in his eyes, making light green glow with more than just warmth and sincerity, and god, you’re so in love with him, you can feel it in your bone marrow. You ache for him, you pine for him, and you want to live for him, but how…

“I’d film you walking next to a lava flow,” he tells you. Despite the little smile playing at his lips, you know he isn’t kidding.

Tears prick the corners of your eyes, and you have to look away before any actually fall, but your sniffle definitely gives you away. You swear internally, berating yourself for getting emotional in front of Mike, though you can’t say you’re too surprised. Your stress levels have been through the roof, working non-stop for months now, the government breathing down your neck. People have died and the park is literally fracturing before your eyes, and you’re not ready to see it end—to see everything as you know it come to an end.

“Pretty dusty up here,” Mike comments while nudging you. You find him holding out a handkerchief, letting you take it then turning his gaze forward again to allow you a little privacy to dab at your eyes.

Mike has senses beyond the normal human spectrum. He has a sense for weather unlike anyone you’ve ever seen before, from thunderstorms and tornadoes to record snowfall and, on a few occasions, earthquakes. You can still vividly remember being in the lab the day of the fatal quake that damaged the hotel, seeing Mike suddenly look at the seismogram seconds before it started picking up the first tremors. Levi had called it “freakish”, but you had called him “incredible”.

It’s not just the weather, though. Mike has a way with people and animals too, like he can gauge their emotions and act appropriately. It’s how he knows what days he can push Levi’s buttons and get away with it, how he knows when Hange is too busy and overwhelmed to gather samples themself, so he gathers some for them.

And, it’s how he knows exactly when he needs to pull you into a hug, like when the team realized the chances of a small to moderate eruption were next to nothing, like when he had told you how many of those hotel guests had gotten hurt and died and you’d stared at him with wide, watery eyes, and like right now, as you think about Katia and Maurice Krafft, the fate they met and how yours might not be any different.

Will you die doing what you love? Will you be able to welcome it as bravely as they did?

You rest your head on Mike’s shoulder, letting yourself melt into his side, his arm sturdy and grounding where it wraps around you, and as you look out over the sunlit grounds, one last question plagues your mind:

Does a pyroclastic flow burn as hot as the molten feelings inside of you?

You can’t imagine anything does.

1  Y E A R  B E F O R E

The message is broadcasted straight from the state capitol, Levi's expression grim as he reads off the paper hidden on the podium. 

"I know all of this sounds apocalyptic—the ash and blackouts and probable climate change, and it is scary, but we still have some time, so there's no reason to panic. We just urge that if you haven't already started preparing, now's the time. Please."

A couple steps behind him and a little to the right is Erwin, standing tall and nodding at everything Levi says as if he's providing some kind of credibility. 

"Considering we're looking at a VEI eight, the team of volcanologists at Yellowstone have recommended that all of Wyoming and its neighboring states evacuate, but I'll let Homeland Security go over all that."

As he turns to step back, the crowd of reporters and journalists begin shouting out questions, and Levi grimaces as he moves to stand next to Erwin who places a hand in his shoulder. 

You can't hear everything being asked from where you're watching at the lab, but you can't imagine it's anything good judging by the way Levi's frown just keeps growing. 

Fortunately, the vaguely familiar secretary of Homeland Security, Dot Pixis, takes the stand quickly, holding up wrinkled hands in an attempt to calm the crowd. 

"We have some more very important information to cover in this address, so if you'll allow me…" He clears his throat and straightens a stack of papers on the podium, no doubt a huge list of protocols that the public will only half listen to. 

You swivel back and forth in your chair as you watch the thin man on screen, his voice scratchy but strangely soothing as he outlines rationing, supply storage, and evacuation routes. 

"We're also negotiating with our neighboring countries about opening borders. Now, anyone seeking refuge would still be required to fill out an application for a temporary visa, but—"

"God, you know they gotta love that," you mumble to yourself. 

Hange, tinkering somewhere behind you, laughs and agrees, "Yeah, after decades of treating immigrants like trash, and now we're just knocking on their doors, asking for help. Ridiculous."

"Embarrassing, is what it is." 

It was for whichever government official had to make that call, anyway. You're positive that had been a hard pill to swallow. 

As far as you've heard, the foreign affairs part of this mess is actually going quite well. You'd accompanied Erwin to the big meeting with Canadian officials and watched him and Pixis plead a case for America, emphasizing just how bad the eruption will be "at home", then switched tactics at whiplash speed to go into how countries needed to work together since this wouldn't just be the US's problem in the long run. 

It turned into a rather inspiring speech, if you're being honest, prompted you to text Levi a short, how is E so damn charming all the time? to which he'd responded, Believe me, you're asking the wrong fuckin guy. 

With multiple government agencies now backing the states and setting plans in motion, the impending eruption seems even more real. You thought your stress levels were high before, that your sleep pattern left little to be desired, but oh, you had been wrong. 

Case in point being Mike walking into the lab with a brown paper bag and slightly unpleasant expression as he asks, "Have you eaten today?" 

Your glare has no real meaning as you grumble, "Had a granola bar this morning."

"It's nearly six," he groans, pushing you, chair and all, up to your desk and setting the bag in front of you. "Please eat something before you pass out."

"Okay, okay, Christ. You're more attentive than my mother."

"I met your mom last year, and you and I both know she would be hysterical if she knew how you've been treating yourself lately."

He has a point. In fact, you're glad Mike is naturally quiet and didn't bond too strongly with her, otherwise you have a feeling he would have called her by now to complain. 

The chicken salad sandwich you bite into must be imbued with some kind of magic, because you let out an honest to god moan when you swallow the first bite. 

"Oh my god, what did you put in this?" You ask as you blink up at your best friend. 

Mike snorts and rolls his eyes. "Uh, actual nutrients maybe? Weird how your body needs those."

Hands too busy shoving more food into your mouth, you headbutt him right at the hip, just hard enough to make him grunt and sway. He steadies himself, glances down at you like he's annoyed but ends up breaking into a grin when he catches what you assume to be a piece of chicken salad dotting the corner of your mouth. 

"What am I gonna do with you," he mumbles, wiping it with a gentle thumb. 

Your body warms with both embarrassment and affection, but you can't quite find a response even as your head clears for the first time in about two days. You really do need to start taking better care of yourself. 

The undeniable feeling of being watched makes your neck prickle, and you break Mike's gaze to find Hange staring at both of you, a not-so-subtle smile making their mouth curl mischievously. You have a pretty good idea of what they're thinking, and you're heart starts beating a little faster at the thought of them possibly speaking it out loud, but before they get a chance, Mike's phone rings. 

You catch a glimpse of the name displayed before he picks it up—Gelgar—recognize it and tease, "One of the doomsday preppers, right?" 

Because no matter how much Mike denies it, just like he does now— "They're not doomsday preppers—" you know that his friends are a little odd. Extremely well prepared, but odd. 

"Hey man, what's up?" He answers, stepping away from you. "Isn't it almost two there?" 

You don't try to listen in, just look back to Hange and shake your head when their smile grows. 

"Stop."

"What?" They giggle. "I'm not even doing anything!" 

"You're thinking things, though."

"Well yeah, I'm always thinking things. How else would I have gotten this smart?" They flip their ponytail for emphasis and toss a wink your way, but Hange's voice gets oddly sincere when they tell you, "Seriously, though. You guys should get while the getting's good. I don't know why you haven't jumped each other's bones yet."

You splutter, look around frantically to make sure Mike isn't within earshot, and thank god, he's in the next room over. 

"Hange!" 

"I'm just saying! It's like watching Erwin and Levi from a few years ago. God, that was a nightmare."

"How dare you. I am nothing like—"

"Yeah, yeah. When do they get back in anyway?" 

You both look to the TV that's still playing the live address, easily spotting your missing team members behind Secretary Pixis. 

"Probably not 'til later tonight. Levi's gonna try to talk Erwin into getting a hotel, I bet, but he's gonna wanna come back to the lab and check everything before he goes to bed."

"How do you know he wants to come back?" 

You show a sheepish grin, fishing the chips out of the paper sack Mike brought, then answer, "'Cause that’s what I’d wanna do."

*

It's late. Far too late to be at work, but being at home never feels right these days. It's too quiet, too still, too not the lab. The only time you genuinely enjoy being there is when friends are over for a movie or meal over the weekend. Other than that, you're not at all attached. 

Not the way you are here.

Almost midnight, you move from table to table, working, organizing, just keeping busy. You're very awake, still jittery from the quake that shook the park at around three that day. It lasted for almost three minutes, splitting the ground dangerously close to Old Faithful, and the geyser hasn't gone off since which is troubling. If too many of the geothermal spots stop releasing pressure, the eruption will take place sooner than anticipated. 

It's why you're here so late, pouring over the data, studying the numbers and possible effects. 

You're not alone, though. Erwin is also shuffling around the lab, but he's focused on something else, a project of sorts. 

"Can you come take a look at this?" He calls from the projection table, and you drop what you're doing to join him. 

The model isn't lit up as a hologram, surprisingly. Instead, Erwin has paper blueprints laid, curling at the edges from being rolled up. It takes you a second to realize what you're looking at, but when it comes together, you inhale sharply. 

It's a simple design, a square floorplan with a couple entrances. The only exit looks to lead upward, though, and it's easy to tell that means Erwin wants this to be underground. There are notes scribbled in the blank spaces, 4 meters down, bomb proof top, ventilation, generators, gasoline?, rations < 5yrs, medicine, vitamins, guns. The list goes on, handwriting sloppier and sloppier the more thoughts Erwin had at the time. 

"You think this would be ready in a year?"

Erwin shrugs. "With the right construction team, yes. That one bunker designer…" Erwin snaps, trying to think of the name, but it doesn't come to him. "Whoever—He built ten shelters in two years." 

You stick your hands in your back pockets as you lean over to look closer. It could just be your overworked brain, but it looks like a good design, something someone actually has a chance of surviving in. 

Hearing your name makes you look up again. Erwin has you pinned with one of his serious blue gazes. "No one else will understand, so please keep this plan to yourself."

You nod but venture to ask, "You haven't told Levi?" 

"No," he answers, mouth pulling downward. "It's… Going to be a fight."

"Understandably so. You're basically married to the volcano, though, Erwin."

"So are you."

His eyes are shining as your lips twist into a grimace. He's gotten to know you well over the years. You've always shared a certain bond over Yellowstone, one the other team members just don't have. To them, it's just a job, just science. 

To you and Erwin, though, it's a religion. You're in love with the park, all its secrets and eccentricities. It's your home; it's where you belong. 

"Assuming this does get built," Erwin starts, lifting a thick eyebrow in curiosity. "You would want to stay, right?" 

"You mean, ride out a supereruption? Be the first to see the zone-one damage?" 

Erwin doesn't answer, but he does smile, excitement dancing just below the surface of his stare. 

You feel it too, the urge to throw caution to the wind, to take a chance that could very possibly get you both killed. The Kraffts flash through your mind again, their failed attempt at escape.

A breathless, "Fuck yeah," tumbles from your mouth before you can dwell on the consequences for too long. 

It's time to either live it up or go down in ash and flames. 

6  M O N T H S  B E F O R E 

Yellowstone is unrecognizable. The ground is mostly made up of large crevasses and smaller cracks, debris from fallen buildings left in piles with no one to clean them up. 

The geysers are all inactive at this point, but steam is still rising from the springs, and the mudpots are still bubbling. It's the only thing that's keeping the volcano from erupting. 

The ground shakes multiple times a day, the lab seismographs constantly picking up activity. The little ones don't faze you anymore. You and Mike secure the glass samples to make sure they don't break while Erwin and Levi basically hug their computers. Yours was damaged in the quake that prompted Hange and Moblit to leave—a 6.7 that caused Hange to fall into their desk, breaking their collarbone in the process. After getting Hange pain meds and a sling, the two of them were on a plane to D.C. that same night. 

Every day is another risk taken. Now, it's just you, Erwin, Levi, and Mike. 

The latter two spend most of their days dropping hints about leaving soon as well. Mike has already made plans to fly to Norway and join his not-doomsday prepper friends and brings it up often.

"You should come. See the tulip fields while they're still around."

"Gel and Nana have done a great job setting up the ranch. They wanna let as many people stay as they can." 

"You'd really like them. They bicker like an old married couple, but they're good people."

Levi takes a different approach with Erwin, appeals to the other man's desire to help and protect. 

"We really should head to the homeland security office. They don't know what they're dealing with."

"Dok is an idiot. They need a bigger brain over there for guidance or whatever."

"Your long-term plan will be better than anything those government fucks will come up with anyway."

Every time, you and Erwin gently wave them off with promises of "soon" and "just a little longer." Neither of you breathe a word about staying. Despite the fact that construction on the bunker has not started and you're running out of time, both of you are dead set on the plan: go down with the park. 

You're found out before it can come to fruition, however. 

The remaining team is sitting in the lab, busy with their own little projects, when Mike looks up suddenly, takes a deep breath, then says, "Earthquake," just as the seismogram starts going wild. 

He pulls you from your chair quickly, dropping to the ground and bringing you with him to crawl under your desk. On your knees, your body curls in on itself and you lock your hands over the back of your neck as the floor beneath you starts to rumble violently. 

You can hear Levi cursing from somewhere as the sound of glass shattering rings throughout the lab. You think another computer falls, models and books flying from shelves. 

Mike huddles over you, one hand gripping the leg of the desk while the other protects your ribs. You want to tell him to shield himself, but you know there's no use. Besides, the weight and warmth is comforting even in the face of danger—his chest hot against your back, the epitome of a knight in shining armor. 

It lasts for several minutes. The power cuts off, windows crack, doors swing open only to slam shut again. You know the lab is going to be an absolute wreck when it's over. 

When the shaking finally settles, everyone crawls out of their hiding places. Levi warns, "Be ready for aftershocks," as if you don't know, and Erwin fumbles in his desk until he finds a flashlight. 

The ray of light illuminates the damage. Just as you suspected, the place looks like a tornado blew through. Glass litters the floor along with the far-flung books and park models. Both Levi and Erwin's computers fell and disconnected, and your stomach drops as you think about all the potentially lost information. 

"You okay?" Mike asks, pulling you up to your knees so he can look at your face. 

"I'm fine," you tell him, his hands on your cheeks making you flush, so you distract yourself. "E, Levi, you guys okay?" 

"Yes," Erwin answers first. 

Levi shows his face, a deep frown making his brow furrow, as he looks at his desktop. "I'm pissed but uninjured."

The four of you spend the next couple of hours cleaning up what you can, pausing and taking cover when the aftershocks hit, then starting over as the lab sustains more and more damage. 

Mike sweeps up the glass. Erwin focuses on getting the computers back on the desks safely then goes and checks the projection table. You and Levi collect the bigger items, setting books back on shelves. 

You don't think about the mistake before it's too late, when Levi is already pulling out the blueprints that were hidden behind the stack of encyclopedias. 

As he stills completely, you turn to look at him and find him staring down at the large, uncurled papers. Your instinct is to snatch them from his hands, but it's no use. He's already seen enough. 

"What the fuck is this?" His voice comes out like poison as he immediately looks at Erwin. 

The larger man glances at Levi, eyes trailing to what he's holding, then pales. 

"Levi..."

"Is this a god damn bunker? Are you planning on staying in this hellscape?" 

Erwin strides over to him and reaches for the prints, but Levi tugs them out of reach. 

"Answer me," he spits. "Is that your plan?"

"I—" Erwin swallows thickly before answering, "Yes."

It's silent for a long time, and the more it drags on, the tighter Levi's lips get, gray eyes shiny with quiet rage. 

This is what Erwin was trying to avoid, why he insisted on keeping the bunker a secret. 

But while Levi is glaring at Erwin, you feel another gaze on you. Skin crawling, you chance a glance up at Mike, stomach churning when he looks away quickly and bites his lips. He knows. Somehow without anyone saying anything, Mike knows you’re planning to stay too.

Heavy breathing and the distant sound of rumbling earth is all that can be heard, followed by backup generators roaring to life and restoring the overhead lights. 

"You too?" Mike finally speaks. “You wanna stay too?”

You chew on the inside of your cheek, unable to answer. He sounds so disappointed—defeated—and it makes you feel sick. 

"Do you guys know," Levi growls, "How fucking insane that is? This is the dumbest, most reckless, selfish fucking thing you could do! And, I know it's all your thinking!" He drops the blueprints in favor of shoving Erwin roughly, making him stumble back. 

"Hey," you step toward him, but the small man just turns to you and accuses, "And, you egged him on, yeah? Did you even think of us? How we would feel? Staying here is suicide!"

"I have a plan, Levi," Erwin says, raising both hands to his head and effectively disheveling his own hair. "If you just look at the plans. I know what we need to survive. I've done the math, I've studied the—"

"Jesus Christ, we're talking about an eight hundred degree pyroclastic flow! Tephra that will suffocate you. You really think being a few meters down during the eruption will be enough?" Levi is screaming now, his voice cracking, and you think you see tears at his waterline. 

It makes the spaces behind your eyes burn, but it’s only partly out of guilt. The other emotion that’s welling up in you is anger, a betrayal you can barely wrap your head around, but it comes tumbling out anyway.

“Do you even know us? You think we can actually leave the park behind?” Your voice rises to match Levi’s, gains his acidic attention once again. “I don’t even understand how you can run away, after everything you’ve put into this place! How can you just—” You let out a sound somewhere between a groan and a cry as you raise your hands to your face and shove your palms to your eyes. “I get Mike because he doesn’t have anything fucking left here. He’s just been helping out—”

“You think I don’t have anything left here?” He asks quietly from beside you, and when you look at him with a watery stare, you find him wounded. His jaw slides forward as he sucks on his teeth, and fuck, his eyes are getting glossy too. 

“See, this is exactly what I mean,” Levi gestures wildly at the two of you. “Mike and I have stayed because you guys won’t fucking leave, and now it comes out that you were never planning to. When were you gonna tell us? Would you have even given us enough time to get out?”

“Of course!” Erwin takes him by the shoulders, and Levi snarls up at him. “I was working up to it. I wasn’t ready to—to deal with this.”

“I can’t believe this. You really think a whole team of workers is gonna come out here to help build this? You wanna put their lives in jeopardy too?”

“We—”

“You haven’t even thought this through all the way! When did you come up with this? When you hadn’t slept or eaten in forty-eight hours? When your brain wasn’t fucking functioning at full capacity?”

Erwin stays quiet, and so do you because Levi has a point. Taking care of yourselves physically has not been high on either of your lists of priorities, and you’re sure your mental state has suffered for it. All the nights spent at the projection table, mapping out ideas, growing giddy over the idea of staying for the eruption. Was that just two people high off passion, becoming more and more unhinged with each passing day?

Quite possibly. 

You expect the fury to be enough to push Levi away, that he’ll simply give up, drag Mike out with him, and leave you and Erwin to hunker down like you’d planned.

But, that is not the case. 

Instead, he shoves a thin finger into Erwin’s chest, gritting out, “Pack your fucking bags so we can go to D.C. where they need you.”

Erwin takes a breath then slumps in defeat. Now, when faced with the obstacle that is his boyfriend, you figure he’s weighed the pros and cons and made a decision. Between his love for the park and his love for Levi, he’d rather salvage the latter. 

Mike shifts next to you, grumbles out a low, “You too,” that makes the tears finally fall from your eyes. “I’ll take you on one last ride to the springs, but then we’re leaving.”

He stays true to his word, and you cry the entire time you’re in the chopper, headset smushed against one ear as you rest your head on the window and look down at the Grand Prismatic, the steam rising from it. It’s beginning to grow discolored with all the activity, but it’s more stunning now than it’s ever been. 

Soon, it’ll be completely covered. All of it will. And, you could have been too, stuck underground for a couple of years only to be the first to step out into the pure destruction. 

That’s not an option anymore, though, not with Mike looking as grave as he does, not with the way he shadows you in your apartment as you gather the necessities, like he thinks you’re going to bolt and run back to the lab, not when the two of you meet back up with a still-fuming Levi and a despondent Erwin to head to the airport.

The tickets are outrageously priced at such short notice, but that doesn’t stop Levi and Mike from passing their credit cards over.

“Two for Washington D.C.”

“And, two for Bergen, Norway.”

Boarding passes in hand, the four of you walk through the bustling airport together for as long as you can before you have to inevitably split up. Levi glares at you but still pulls you into a tight hug, grunts into your ear, “You’re so stupid,” before letting go and turning to Mike. “Keep her safe, boy scout. I’m trusting you.”

Mike nods, and both of them clasp hands as you turn to look at Erwin. Tears and pathetic sniffles return when you walk into his open arms, clinging to him and mumbling, “‘M sorry, ‘m sorry. I would’ve followed you.”

“I know.” He rubs your back and heaves a sigh. “I know you would have.”

He eventually disentangles you to hold you at arm’s length, wipes the moisture from your face with his thumbs, then shows a sad smile. “See you in a few years, yes?”

“Yeah.”

One more squeeze, and everyone turns away to walk to their respective gate. Mike’s hand splays across your back, warm, guiding you in the right direction, keeping you steady. He’s always kept your feet planted firmly on the ground. You figure, if there’s one person you’d like to experience the downfall of society with—above ground—it’s him. 

S I X  W E E K S  B E F O R E

Norway is kind of incredible. It has a natural beauty that takes your breath away just like Yellowstone used to, but it’s vastly different. Everything is green, including the lights in the sky at night. You’re surrounded by rolling hills and mountains, and you just know it’ll be beautiful under thick layers of snow. 

The once rustic ranch, now restored, is made up of several small houses and a farm full of cows and goats. It’s sad to think about the fate they will eventually meet (slaughter then stomachs), but you know it’s necessary to prepare for the coming years.

And, the owners have definitely prepared. 

Gelgar and Nanaba are everything Mike described and more. Between taking care of the farm and setting up energy sources, they do their best to make you and the other arrivals feel at home. They’ve designed the ranch to house up to about thirty people, a commune of sorts (minus any cult-like vibes). Naturally, everyone pitches in and helps around the place. You find yourself cleaning a lot, but you don’t mind. It’s a nice, mindless task that keeps you from thinking too hard about everything you’ve left behind. 

You also like to join Nana outside, help with the animals and enjoy the sunshine while you still can. Of course, this subjects you to endless teasing especially today when she catches you staring into the distance at Mike who's helping Gelgar fix a solar panel. 

His shirt is starting to stick to his back from sweating, muscles straining under the damp cloth, and good lord, when did he get that broad? Sure, he's always been tall and fit, but working on the homestead has definitely made him more built. That along with the fact that his hair has gotten long enough to tie up in a bun has your mouth going a little dry. 

"Like what you see?" Nanaba asks, accent thick, voice full of amusement. 

You shoot her a look, face all scrunched up when you mumble, "Don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh?" She sticks her tongue out. "Don't be coy. I see the way you both look at each other."

"Tch." 

"And, how both of you volunteer to cook with the other when it's your turn to. You move around each other like you know exactly where the other is. Two halves of a whole."

You roll your eyes. "We've just worked together for a while. We make a good team."

She's not wrong, though. Since coming to Norway, you and Mike have grown even closer. There was a period of time when you could hardly look at him, too guilty for trying to stay at the park, guilty for hurting him, but eventually the two of you fell back into your normal dynamic—joking, laughing, touching just a little too much, smiling when you think no one's looking. You even spent an afternoon together in a nearby field of flowers, just like he'd promised. With a picnic basket full of food, and a blanket to lay on, you'd admired the clouds overhead while enjoying the rustling grass surrounding you. 

It's been your favorite day since coming here, had reminded you of the lunches you used to share on the mountain. 

You're not brave enough to make any sort of move, though. Mike is just so good. There's a chance his affections are simply based in friendship, and that's something you're scared to ruin. He means too much to you. 

"How long did you work together?"

"Like, four years, give or take a few months."

"And, you're still acting like nothing is there?" Nanaba tsks. "Ridiculous."

"How long did it take you and Gel to get together?" You ask, then quickly backtrack, "Not that that's what I want with Mike necessarily."

"Mhm," she smirks. "Gel and I did it backwards. Got pissed at a bar and fell into bed together. Then we started to get to know each other and found out we just worked."

Sounds about right, you think. The couple has an interesting back-and-forth, half bickering, half innuendo. You can always, always see the love in their eyes, though. That's what you want in life. That’s what you want with Mike. Even if you won't admit it out loud. 

You turn your gaze back to the roof he and Gelgar are on just in time to see him making his way down the ladder. Once on the ground, he and the other man start striding over to you. Mike's face is red, sweat beading at his hairline, and Gelgar's pompadour is beginning to fall. 

"Think we got it fixed up," Mike announces, lifting the bottom hem of his shirt to wipe his forehead. 

You stare at his toned stomach for just a little too long, the lines of his hip bones leading into the waistband of his jeans. 

Nanaba's words ring in your head again—fell into bed, fell into bed, fell into bed—and you fixate on the idea of you and Mike doing the same. To have him hovering over you, or maybe you over him, thighs on either side of those hips as his hands trail up your body—

You shake the thought from your head, letting your glazed eyes refocus on the men in front of you. 

"Alright, I'm gonna grab a shower before dinner. Who's cooking tonight?"

“I believe it's Lynne and Henning," Nana answers. 

Mike nods then heads toward the little house he's been living in, right next to yours, of course. He reaches out to let his hand brush yours as he passes, and it takes conscious effort not to grip onto one or two of his large fingers and follow him. 

"God, that's painful to watch," Gelgar snorts. 

Nana laughs and agrees, "I was just telling her the same thing."

"Oh, shut up. Ya' couple of meddlers."

*

A line forms every evening outside of the main house, the one Gelgar and Nanaba share. You and Mike stand together at the back, watching everyone in front of you. Some are families, some are couples, some are here alone. You figure, no matter their status, the ranch is a nice place to be—peaceful, home-y despite its size. So far, everyone gets along. 

Only the kids complain about chores, about seven of them constantly running around together, but that’s to be expected, and honestly, you don’t mind picking up their slack. Life is about to get very difficult for them. They should get to be children for a little while longer. 

Potato soup is poured into your bowl with a ladle, topped with shredded beef and green onions, then you and Mike retire back to your little cottage home to eat and watch TV. It stays on the same channel, world news, and there’s always a long segment that covers Yellowstone and what it’s doing. 

It is not uncommon at all to look up from your food and see Erwin or Levi’s face on screen, speaking with experts, sometimes in interview-like settings.

Tonight, they’re covering a problem that’s been going on for some time, but everyone figured would resolve itself: some people will not leave the most dangerous zones, and it’s because they simply do not believe an eruption will take place. 

Even with the evidence, the science backing it—even with actual federal authorities knocking on their doors and telling them to leave—there are many people who just want to stay put. It’s insane to you, makes your blood boil. Children have been taken from their homes to be placed in safer areas, which only causes the disbelievers to get angrier. They want to say “I told you so”, but that’s not going to happen. 

What’s going to happen is getting burned alive in the flow that pours from the volcano. They will die a painful death, get buried under meters of fallout, ash, snow. There’ll be nothing to recover except for petrified, charred corpses. 

Of course, the irony is not lost on you; you and Erwin were both willing to chance similar fates, but you still think the two of you would have been more prepared than these regular-Joes who think their front door is enough to stop a volcanic eruption. 

“In the end, there’s no reasoning with people like this,” Erwin says on camera, a soft, sad smile playing at his lips. “When a person is so, uh… Dead set on staying, it will take an unstoppable force to move them.”

In your case, that unstoppable force had been Levi screaming at you while holding back tears. 

“Unfortunately for them, this force is the eruption, and they won’t be able to leave when that occurs.”

“Because they’ll be dead,” the reporter states more than asks.

Erwin nods and answers with a grim, “Yes. Yes, they will be.”

They’re not trying to be subtle, obviously hoping that this will get through to the stubborn masses, but you doubt it will. They’re living on borrowed time at this point. Any day could be their last.

Mike is quieter than usual as he eats, barely even looking at the television screen, and you have a feeling he’s thinking about how close you were to staying alongside those stupid assholes. It’s still a touchy subject, one both of you do your best to avoid. You’re mostly happy to be in Europe, spending your days with Mike and his friends and everyone else running around here. 

But, there’s also a part of you, deep down inside, that aches, that misses the park, that still wants to be right in the middle of the destruction. Watching it blow from so far away is going to hurt. This massive monster you’ve fallen in love with over the years will never be the same, and your last good look at it was that tearful helicopter ride. 

You’re not resentful toward Mike or Levi for dragging you out of the lab that day, but you are grieving in a sense. 

The program ends with Erwin giving one last warning— “If you insist on staying, I’d advise bomb-proofing your home, stocking up on several years-worth of rations, and installing one hell of a ventilation system. Good luck.”

Mike clears his throat and stands, grabbing his empty bowl as well as yours, then heads into the kitchen to rinse them off. 

Sighing, you follow him, lean against the counter a couple feet away as you think of something to say that won’t sound too forced.

“Hey,” you start.

Mike gives a low, “Hm?” as he holds the dishes under hot water, finally glancing over when you gently nudge him in the side.

“Thanks for…” You take a deep breath, pinned by light green eyes, then try again. “Thanks for bringing me here.” He blinks but doesn’t say anything, so you continue. “It’s really nice. And, I’ve bonded or whatever with Nana.”

“But, you miss the park,” he says.

You shrug. “I mean, yeah. That park was my life, but… Probably dying in it was not one of my brighter ideas.”

He snorts, shuts off the water, then turns to you. Craning your neck, you take in his face—really take it in—the few strands of hair that hang freely past his jawline, the way his beard, no longer stubble but not exactly thick, forms around his mouth and connects with his sideburns, his strong, slightly curved nose, how his Adam’s apple bobs when he swallows. He’s so painfully handsome, especially all shaggy and rugged, and it makes your heart beat too hard and too fast in your chest. 

Mike dries his hands on a dish towel, looking down at them when he tells you, “I’m glad we were able to get you out of there. It’s not something I’ll ever feel bad about. Even if you hate me for it.”

“I don’t hate you,” you scoff. “Never could. You’re my best friend, Mike.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you smile, then think of Nanaba earlier that day and laugh quietly. 

“What?”

You wave a hand, shake your head. “Nothing, nothing, just… Nana has… Ideas, or something.”

There’s no need to elaborate. Mike understands what you’re trying to say. He inhales then breathes out it out in a chuckle as he posts up against the counter next to you. “Yeah, Gelgar does too.”

“Guess they don’t know us very well.”

A silence hangs between the two of you, one that would normally be comfortable but is now a little thick given the subject matter of your conversation.

You and Mike. Just earlier that day you had been thinking about how scared you are to ruin the friendship, but the more you imagine, the more you get lost in the fantasy…

“Or maybe…” You glance over to see Mike nibbling on his bottom lip, eyes fixed on the ground as he continues, “Maybe they know us better than we know ourselves.”

He raises his head, gaze locking with yours, and you stop breathing. Because that stare is so hesitant, searching for something inside of you as if you have the answer, but you’re just as scared and confused as he is. Over four years of friendship—of good, meaningful friendship—is that worth risking just because you’re both curious? 

Or has it all been leading to this since the start? Since those first, short conversations, since the meals shared with one another, the affectionate gestures. Mike has always kept your head on straight, looked after you with even more care than he had with the park’s wildlife. 

You thought it’d all been one-sided pining, that he was just glad to have someone who understood him a little better than everyone else because you do. You understand his passion for the planet, you understand all his little fixations. You appreciate every eccentricity like he appreciates all your neuroses. 

“Maybe so…” 

Two very large hands are on your face, tilting upward, and your lungs begin to burn as Mike strokes just under your eyes with the pads of his thumbs. He has to lean down quite a bit, pauses just over your lips to let out a tiny huff of surprise, disbelief, awe maybe, then closes the rest of the miniscule distance. 

He is very warm and very firm against you—feels good, all the comfort of someone familiar but still so new. Your lips fit together perfectly, and at last, you’re able to breathe again, mouths moving in an experimental back and forth, feeling each other out until he runs the tip of his tongue along the seam of your lips. Gripping strong shoulders, you let the kiss deepen, opening your mouth for him, and Mike groans when he’s finally able to taste you. 

Hands fall from your face, moving down, down, down, brushing your ribs, settling at your hips, but his fingers are long enough to curl and dig into the meat of your ass, making you gasp and press harder against him.

Rolling his pelvis into yours, you very quickly find yourself pinned between Mike’s body and the counter. Your grasp travels to the back of his neck, pulling him closer—you just need him closer—and he must feel it too because he hoists you up and sets you on the countertop, making room for himself between your legs.

You feel too hot and too desperate, but it’s good, a release that’s needed to happen for far too long. All manner of geothermal metaphors swim through your mind, spurting geysers and boiling mudpots, and it makes you giggle against him, biting down on his bottom lip and smiling around the flesh as he lets out another one of those rumbling, satisfied noises. 

“What’re you laughin’ at?” Mike mumbles, and for some reason, it’s strange to hear his voice so close, so quiet, as you’re pressed together, breathing each other’s air. It’s intimate and different, but it’s right. 

“I’m just…” Another little laugh, “Thinking about the volcano.”

“When are you not thinking about the volcano?” You have a feeling he’s rolling his eyes, but he still grins and kisses you again.

“It’s all dirty things if that helps.”

Mike nods slowly, lips trailing from your mouth toward your neck. “Helps some.”

You tilt your head to give him better access and let out a little whine when you feel him bite down on a patch of skin just beneath the notch of your jaw, wrap your legs around his waist and do your best to rock into him because good god, you want him. 

Fingers tangling under his loosening bun, you tug him back to your mouth, slotting your lips against his and sliding your tongue between his teeth. He presses you closer with a hand on the small of your back, squeezing the air from your lungs so all you can breathe is him. 

“Mm, Mike, Mike,” you pant, barely breaking away only for him to chase after. You laugh, push his chest at the same time you gently tug at his hair, and he backs away just enough for you to get a good look at his half-lidded eyes and spit-slicked lips. 

Honestly, staring at him now, you can’t believe you made so long without ever making a pass at him. He’s gorgeous, built like a roman statue only larger, with sun-kissed skin and a startlingly light gaze that threatens to leave you boneless. 

“D’you wanna, maybe…” You swallow and blink up at him, too many questions suddenly invading your mind—is it too early for sex? Will he think you’re easy? What if it doesn’t actually work out? But, you bite the bullet anyway and finish, “Go to the bedroom?” 

Mike is silent for a few beats, leaving you to second guess yourself and brace for disappointment and embarrassment, but then he clicks his tongue and answers, “Uh, yeah. Yes, let’s do that,” in a voice a little higher than usual, and scoops you from the counter.

Every little house on the ranch is laid out the same, so it does not take him long to find your room. He sets you down at the threshold, and from there, it’s a flurry of discarded clothing and stumbling to the bed.

“How have we never done this before?” He huffs, crawling over you, leaving wet kisses in his wake. 

You’ve still got an arm covering your bare chest, but Mike doesn’t seem self-conscious in the slightest which comes as a surprise considering how reserved he typically is. Not that he has anything worth hiding—not the thin layer of hair that dances over his barrel chest, not the ridiculously cut abdominals or sharp ‘V’ of his hips, and definitely not the thick cock bobbing against his stomach as he moves. You would be intimidated if you didn’t know him as well as you do, but you’re sure that he’ll be gentle with you. Mike may be many things, but careless is not one of them.

He reaches your mouth, kisses you so deeply it makes you dizzy, and as he does, he very slowly pulls your arm from your chest, leaving you vulnerable—free for the taking. 

His touch is soft enough to tickle as he brushes over one of your nipples, making you exhale against him and arch your back like a silent plea for more. He traces around the bud, makes it pebble before carefully rolling it between two fingers.

Warmth spills into your gut, makes you squirm on the bed, and a moan makes its way from your throat as Mike gently tugs at the sensitive flesh. He lowers his head again, lavishing the same kind of attention on your other nipple with his mouth. He nibbles and licks and sucks, and you wriggle and whimper beneath him, one hand trailing down his body until you’re able to close your fingers around the head of his cock. 

Mike grunts, thrusts into your hand a couple times, enough to make precum drool from his tip, but before he can get too carried away, he says just above a whisper, “Let me get you ready,” then moves to lay between your spread legs.

Sliding his arms under your thighs, he locks them into place, and you release a shaky breath, feeling his eyes taking you in for several seconds before licking up your slit once then pushing deeper.

“Oh, fu—”

Both your hands shoot downward, one gripping the messy bun at the back of his head as you shudder at the sensation of his beard against your pussy. You’re wet in seconds, core pulsing as Mike uses his tongue to slowly open you up, then pulls back to flick over your clit. 

“Mike—Mike—”

He hums into you, shaking his head slowly back and forth, no doubt making a mess of his face and you. You don’t have anything to say, just feel your throat tightening like there are unspoken words that need to come out, but you can’t think straight, not when he’s doing what he’s doing, not when you feel the tips of his fingers reaching out to spread your lips. 

He is thorough bordering on methodical, makes sure you’re at the point of full body shakes before he gives you a break, and then, when your breathing returns to a normal rate, he starts all over again. There is a tightness in your gut that builds and builds then dissipates every time he stops, and he must know because when you whine in frustration, Mike just grins and kisses the inside of your thighs. 

The same pattern is repeated with his fingers, just one at first, massaging your walls perfectly, then a second that makes your eyes roll into the back of your head. He rubs over the swelling tissue inside of you, seems to enjoy every little gasp and noise you make, including the unsatisfied one you let out when he pulls his fingers from you. 

You can feel how damp the bedspread is underneath you, can see the evidence of your arousal on Mike’s face, and it makes you flush but doesn’t stop you from tugging him down for another messy kiss. 

“You ready?” He asks, sounding just as breathless as you feel, and you nod furiously, bending your knees and planting your feet on the mattress so that you can lift your hips to his. 

Mike chuckles, reaches down between the two of you to take hold of his length and taps your clit with his cockhead a couple times—simultaneously the most infuriating and most erotic thing you’ve ever experienced. Slowly, he lines himself up, just barely pushing forward, and when you bite your lip and squeeze your eyes shut, Mike tells you to, “Breathe, baby, open up for me.”

He already sounds wrecked, like he’s fighting the urge to just sheathe himself entirely, but he waits, giving you one inch at a time with periods of adjustment in between. You always sort of figured he was big, but this burning stretch is something you hadn’t imagined even in your lewdest of fantasies. You’re incredibly full, feel him in your gut and throat and everywhere, but it isn’t bad; it’s just a lot. 

“Okay,” you stroke the forearm next to your head and nod. “Okay, you can start moving more.”

Mike’s brow creases. “You’re sure?”

“About as sure as I can be with a monster cock inside m-me—” Your laugh turns to a moan as Mike begins to pull out, eyes trained on your face for any sign of real discomfort, but your mouth just drops open, your own eyebrows raising at the feeling of his length hitting every one of your most sensitive spots. 

“Holy…”

He pushes back in quickly, still mindful of what your body can take, and when all you do is cry his name and scratch down his back, Mike starts up a steady rhythm that has you seeing god. 

That tightness is back, hotter than before, threatening to burn you up entirely as your cunt flutters and spasms and leaks around Mike’s length. 

The sound of a hoarse groan makes you open your eyes, and you follow Mike’s line of vision to where you’re connected, see his cock sliding in and out of you, dripping slick and ringed in white cream toward the base. The sight makes you clench around him, and Mike swears under his breath then leans forward to gather you in his arms. Your head lolls back as he lifts you, sitting on his knees for just a second before falling onto his back and letting you drop onto him. 

You choke, and Mike pants, but his hands are tight at your hips, moving you up and down his length like a sleeve. His pupils are blown wide when you look down at him, hair nearly entirely out of its tie, bottom row of teeth exposed as his jaw slides almost primally. 

He looks completely lost in you, possessed as he fucks up into your pussy rougher than before. You bounce in his lap, whimpering his name with every thrust, growing in volume when you feel a finger press against your clit. 

“You gonna come for me?” Mike grits out, rubbing a circle over the swollen bundle as his eyes flick from your chest to your face. 

You nod, ignoring the burning in your thighs in favor of the sensation between your hips. “Yeah, I—I—Fuck, Mike—”

“Come on, baby, come on—wanted to see this for years, come all over my cock…”

You snap, legs shaking as your climax crashes through you. Your cunt pulses around Mike, coating him in more of your juices and making him groan and fuck you through it. You whine at the stimulation, swollen walls so sensitive yet taking everything he has to give you.

Every thrust to your g-spot makes you gush a little more, come a little longer, until all you can do is fall onto his chest and let him use you as he needs to. You leave marks on his pecs, bites and scratches, and Mike grunts at every one of them until he sits up and flips you once again.

“Where do you want me?”

“Anywhere, I don’t care, I don’t care,” you babble.

Mike inhales sharply then lets out a long groan as he pulls out and shoots his load onto your stomach. It’s warm and thick, some pooling in your belly button as Mike makes a trail down to your clit where he smears the last few drops. You twitch at the contact, hole clenching around nothing now, but you can already feel soreness settling into your muscles. 

Mike gives you two little pecks on the mouth, then one last, longer kiss before rolling to lay on the mattress beside you, chest rising and falling with deep breaths.

This silence doesn’t bother you. It gives you time to come back to your senses, to reflect, to remember everything that was said which leads you to ask, “You meant that—about wanting this for years?”

Mike turns his head and smiles so sincerely it almost brings tears to your eyes. 

“Well, yeah. Been in love with you pretty much since I started at the park.”

He says it so casually, like it’s the most natural thing in the world, and maybe it is, but it still makes your breath catch. 

“Seriously?” You turn to lay on your side, and Mike mimics the action, propping his head up with one hand while he lets the other settle on your waist. 

He lifts an eyebrow and questions, “Is that so hard to believe?” 

“No, I just… Thought it was one-sided on my end, I guess. Like, we were too good of friends.” Mike leans forward to gently headbutt you, and you snort to yourself, “Guess I was wrong.”

“We were both being stupid,” he mumbles. “But, we were also focused on other things, married to the job or whatever.”

Lifting your face makes him lift his, and you smile into another kiss, feeling happier and more balanced than you have in a very long time. 

Without much more discussion, you and Mike get up to rinse off, sharing more soft touches under the spray of the shower before crawling into bed together. Falling asleep feels like coming home.

You don’t even mind the smug grin on Nanaba’s face when she sees you and Mike leave your house together in the morning, nor the teasing jabs Gelgar throws your way over lunch. You don’t know if anything is capable of knocking you out of your perfect, peaceful little world on this perfect, peaceful little homestead.

Except maybe a supereruption, of course. 

E - D A Y 

It happens right in the middle of the morning news. You and Mike are sipping on coffee, expecting the same report you’ve gotten every day— “Nothing yet, closely monitoring, blah blah”—but as the English news anchor tries to introduce the meteorologist, he stops, holds a hand to the speaker in his ear, then looks at the camera with wide yes. 

“I’m—I’m getting news that the Yellowstone supervolcano has just begun to erupt, we’re cutting to the US address at Washington D.C. now—”

And just like that, Levi’s face is suddenly on screen, picking him up mid-sentence. 

“... One vent open at the present time, but more will open shortly. Stay indoors, ration your food. This is what we’ve been preparing for.” He looks tired, and when you do the math, you understand why: seven AM in Norway is one AM in D.C., meaning Levi was probably woken up to make the announcement. 

As always, you can make out Erwin’s figure behind him, hands clasped tight and shaking, and it isn’t until Mike puts a hand on your shoulder that you realize you are trembling right along with your old boss.

“Hey, it’s gonna be okay,” he reassures you. “We’re gonna be okay here.”

You nod and let him pull you closer to him as both of you look back to the screen and listen to what your old colleagues have to say.

The news stays on for the rest of the day. At around ten, the second vent opens up. Then another. Then another. Levi keeps track, expression never betraying the fear he must be feeling, even when he delivers the message that a full ring around the caldera has opened up. 

“Obviously, we can’t get in close enough to look, but we estimate at least two thousand four hundred and fifty cubic kilometers of eruptible magma will pour from the volcano. That’s the size of the eruption from around two million years ago, but it could be worse with the current number of vents…”

The journalists on site, usually so ready to ask questions and challenge Levi, are silent today, and you imagine they’re staring with eyes the size of saucers, not quite believing what they’re hearing because it’s happening. It’s finally happening. 

You eat a quiet, solemn lunch at Nanaba and Gelgar’s, no one knowing what to say. You feel nauseous, stunned, not unlike losing a loved one. You’re able to forget the absolute destruction taking place in the states for a few minutes at a time, but it always comes back to you, punching you in the gut with the same, brute force every time.

The park. The lab. The forests. The towns. Cities, states, homes, lives, all wiped off the map. 

Erwin takes Levi’s place as public speaker close to five, probably to let the other man get some sleep, and reports that the portable seismogram, still linked to the remaining seismographs located around the park, show that there are near continuous earthquakes taking place, “Which could either help should enough earth shift to block the magma chamber, or make things worse by disrupting it further.”

“E is not very good at keeping people’s hopes up,” you mutter, and Mike chuckles.

“Yeah, I see why he makes Levi do all the talking now.”

You both receive texts from the rest of the team, Levi’s coming at an appropriate time but the others reaching you at odd hours of the night when you’re nestled in Mike’s arms.

Neither of you sleep as reality sets in the rest of the way. That was it. The beginning of the end of everything you know. Everything is about to change.

You sniff, try to be as quiet as possible as the tears you’ve been holding back all day finally begin to fall, but Mike knows, feels your body stiffen as you curl into yourself. 

He hugs you close to him but doesn’t say anything, just rests his cheek against yours and holds your hand. 

There’s nothing anyone can say to make this better, no amount of optimism or determination that will make this any easier. Your home is covered in miles of pyroclastic flow, and as it hasn’t stopped yet, you know this is just the start. Soon, anything left alive will be suffocated by the tephra, people, animals, and vegetation alike. Though you won’t die where you are, everyone at the ranch will be feeling the effects soon enough.

Your mother calls from France where her and your dad decided to “vacation” for the next several years. She’s worked up about not being able to get through to you for almost an entire day, and even as you reassure her that you’re mostly fine, she hears the way your voice cracks and offers to fly to Norway.

“Mom, the airports are shut down by now,” you sigh. “We already talked about this. We can’t see each other for a while, but we’ll FaceTime until we can’t anymore.” Until the cell towers are knocked out, you don’t say.

“I just know my baby girl is hurting right now. I know how much you loved—”

“I know,” you cut her off, scared that hearing it from her mouth will just make you lose it again. “I know, but I’m okay here with Mike and everyone else.”

“You’re sure?” She sniffles, sounding a lot like you. “Cause your father and I will find a way to get to you if you need us.”

“I’m sure, Mom,” you tell her with a sad smile she can’t see. “Get some rest, okay?”

You share many calls like that, many ill-timed text messages until the eruption finally comes to an end six days later. The damage it’s done is incalculable—the entirety of the United states now covered in a cloud of ash that blocks out the sun. 

It doesn’t reach you for a few days, but every time you go outside, Mike sniffs the air and mumbles something like, “Smells like sulfur,” or “It’s getting closer”, but after another week, the entire globe is covered. 

1  M O N T H  A F T E R

Everything is an estimation. Everyone knows that a massive amount of magma erupted, but they don’t know how much. Everyone knows that a large number of people have died, but they don’t know how many. There are too many mysteries, and it’s nowhere near safe enough to send search crews out. 

Despite all the warnings, people are still trying to go outside—to see the ash, to review the damage, but even with cloth or medical grade masks, they’re breathing in the dangerous particles floating in the air, tiny minerals that turn to a cement-like substance in their lungs, and because of that, the death count is only rising. 

News reports cut in and out, as do phone calls. Some texts never get sent or received, so all you truly have is your little home and Mike. 

And, you cry, and you mourn, and you miss your friends and family—fuck, you don’t even know how you’ll survive so long without them—but you also revel in the fact that you’re safe. Not everyone can say that. The fact that you had almost willingly stayed in the most dangerous zone of the explosion is laughable now. There’s no way you and Erwin would have survived that, something he agrees with you on when you share a short phone call with him just to check how he and Levi are doing. 

They’ll be staying at the Homeland Security compound for the forseeable future, but he assures you they’re well-prepared to brave the years-long gray storm. 

Without any livestock to take care of, or mouths to feed other than yours and Mike’s, you find yourself with an abundance of free time. You still have power thanks to the solar panels and the couple of windmills set up around the ranch, but you don’t know how long that will last. 

You both read a lot, do puzzles together, fall into bed both out of desire and just because there’s not much better to do.

And, that part of your apocalyptic life is kind of great. Mike is great. He takes care of you both in and out of the bedroom, is gentle with you until you tell him not to be, and then he’s more than happy to succumb to your needs. He’d invested in a frankly absurd amount of condoms before the eruption so he wouldn’t have to worry about pulling out every time, but every once in a while you want him like you had him the first time—desperate and passionate and completely raw. 

That’s the feeling you’re experiencing tonight, staring at Mike from your place on the couch rather than at the book in your hands.

You see him smile before he actually looks at you, but when he does, he has a glint in his eyes you’ve gotten very familiar with over the last month. 

“Need something, baby?”

You bite your lip to keep from grinning too bashfully and glance back down at the open pages on your lap. “Nuh uh.”

“You sure?”

“Mhm,” you nod. 

“Really?” Mike puts down the wildlife magazine he’s perusing and leans closer to you. “’Cause it looks like you might want something.”

You cross your legs, flip a page you haven’t even read, and shake your head. 

It’s a dumb game you’ve both started to play, who can hold out the longest. Of course, the longest record is one you both hold—four years and some odd months—but other than that, you usually make it two or three days at most.

But it’s hard with him walking around looking like he does, and for someone so quiet, Mike is mischievous and handsy, knowing just how to rile you up only to walk away and leave you to whatever you were doing before. He whispers in your ear, he grabs your ass, sometimes he’ll just stand right behind you in the kitchen and inhale, trace his nose up your neck so that you shiver and break out in goosebumps, then mumble a shameless, “You smell nice.”

He’s troublingly good at driving you crazy, and you realize this is why it took you so long to actually get together. You can’t imagine being this wound up and wanton in the lab with everyone there to see. 

“You know,” Mike speaks again. You look at him from the corner of your eyes as he leans back against the cushions and nonchalantly kicks an ankle over his thigh. “A lot of people are dying. Like, thousands. Millions.”

Frowning, you nod. “Uh, yeah. Worldwide disaster taking place.”

“Yeah, it’s a shame,” he adds. His lips twitch upward for a second before he purses them, waiting for another couple seconds then stating, “Should probably start thinking about… Efforts to repopulate.”

Eyes widening, you tilt your head to the side in disbelief, a short, incredulous laugh bubbling from your throat.

“You should be ashamed of yourself, Mike Zacharias!” 

Reaching behind you, you grab a throw pillow and launch it at him. Mike shields himself easily, choking and chuckling as he tries to defend himself, “I’m just—saying! It’s something to keep in mind!”

“Trying to guilt me into sex—” You smack his forearms with the pillow again, “As if I’m not already easy for you—" smack, smack, “—by bringing up all the people dying out there. What is the matter with you?”

He gets a hold of the pillow and rips it from your hands then hugs it to his chest and stares at you with that uncharacteristically devious look. “Is it working?”

You scoff at him, gently kick at his thigh in one last act of defiance before responding, “I mean, kinda.”

And, that’s all he needs to hear before he’s throwing himself at you, pinning you to the couch even as you giggle and squirm, ridding you of the comfortable clothes you have on so that he can kiss and lick every part of you he can reach. He acts like he’s hungry for you, and you have to use all your strength to shove him off of you just so that you can work his pants off and return the favor. 

Mike is all grunts and curses as you work him over with your tongue, a hand on the back of your head heavy but not pressuring. He trembles as you take him deeper, his tip hitting the back of your throat and sliding just a little further. 

It always hurts your jaw, leaves it sore for a full twenty-four hours at least, but the way his jaw drops and his hands ball into fists make it worth it. 

You use one hand to stroke what your mouth can’t reach, the other settling between your own thighs to get you to where you need to be, and only when Mike is panting and you’re dripping slick into your curled palm do you pull off of him.

He helps you into his lap, lets you take your time sliding down his length, because even after as much practice as you’ve had, it hasn’t exactly gotten easier. He’s still massive, and you still have to will yourself to relax around him, but once your muscles have loosened enough, you begin to rock your hips. 

Mike lets you use him like that for a few minutes, knows he’s at the perfect angle to rub over your g-spot, so he just watches and leans forward to place teasing kisses around your open mouth. 

“Feel good, baby?” His voice drips like honey as he grips onto you to aid in your movement. 

Nodding, you dig your nails into his shoulders, then shift to start moving up and down his length. Mike takes it as his cue to take over completely, strong enough to lift and drop you as he pleases, and you both fall into a frenzy of motion, desperate to get off, to get each other off, to share that euphoria. 

“Do you actually want to?” You ask in a daze.

Mike cracks his eyes open to ask, “What?” and slows down enough to give you enough breathing room to speak. “Do I wanna what?”

Making lazy air quotes with your fingers, you mimic his deep voice, “Repopulate,” then elaborate, “Have kids. Do you want that?” 

Everything stops. Your hips still, as do Mike’s, and he stares at you, the lusty haze of his gaze clearing as he processes what you’re asking. 

Feeling completely exposed, you try to rationalize, “I know, I know, we’ve only been doing this for, like, a month, and it’s kind of a terrible time to actually bring new life into the world, but if I’m gonna do it with anyone—”

Mike fists both hands in the hair at the back of your head, pulls you to him to smash your lips together. When he starts bouncing you again, your muffled moan is still loud in the small living room, and Mike’s voice comes out somewhere between desperate and destroyed when he tells you, “Yeah, I want kids. Want you to have my kids.”

“Okay,” you breathe, matching his rhythm, then again, “Okay.”

A switch seems to flip in Mike’s head. You watch and experience him devolve into someone—something—primal. He fucks you like he never has before, long hair hanging in his face, lip caught between his teeth as he groans around it, pistoning into you quick and rough.

“You want it?” He growls, pausing to suck a mark at the swell of your breast. “You want me to come in this pussy?”

Your heart stutters, jaw dropping slightly because Mike isn’t a vulgar man, never has been, but now, the way he’s looking up at you with wild eyes, you know all he needs is the right push, and he’ll lose it completely. 

“Yeah, fuck, want you to fill me up, please,” you whine.

Your world tilts as he tosses you long ways on the couch, sliding back into you with ease and demanding, “Touch yourself.”

You grin slyly, “What, don’t have the focus?”

“Not really,” he admits, flicking sweaty hair from his eyes. 

Two of your fingers find your clit, massaging it the way you always do when you’re desperate for an orgasm. It makes you clamp tighter around Mike, and you tell him again—beg for him— “Please, baby, want you so bad.”

He comes quicker than usual, shooting line after line deep inside of you until it starts dripping out around his cock. 

He can’t stay inside you for long, unable to take the way you keep clenching and twitching from your own ministrations, so Mike pulls out and shimmies down your body so that his face is just above your cunt. At first, he just stares (like always), admiring your swollen folds and how messy you are, but soon he pushes a finger into you, attaching his mouth to your clit shortly after.

It doesn’t take you long. The thought of him fingerfucking his cum further into you paired with the actual sensation of it sends you over the edge within a few minutes, and the two of you are left sweaty and panting, too drunk off each other to really think about the gravity of what you’ve just done but enjoying it all the same. 

The feeling eventually returns to your legs, some of the fog in your brain dissipating as you run your hand through Mike’s hair, and when you find that you can, you voice, “Can we even handle a kid? Or like… Can a kid handle the world as it is?”

“Kids are weirdly resilient,” Mike speaks, face pressed against your stomach so that you can feel the vibrations. “And, maybe there’ll eventually be a race of super babies or something—have enhanced lungs to deal with ash. Darkvision and shit.”

You snort and shake your head. “Dummy.”

He retaliates by blowing a raspberry just above your belly-button, grins lopsidedly when you squeal. 

“But really, our kids’ll be fine. Volcanologist for a mom and an Eagle Scout for a dad? Doesn’t get much better than that.”

“Oh my god, you were actually in Boy Scouts? Does Levi know?”

Mike makes a little ‘pft’ sound and shoots you an unimpressed look. “Of course not. Like, I’d ever let that tiny, tiny man be right about anything.”

Your laugh is so deep and genuine, it makes your whole body shake. Mike raises his head to keep it from bouncing so much, but you can feel him staring for the duration of your giggle fit. Even through squinted, teary eyes, you can see his gaze is full of adoration, and you figure having two parents who love each other as much as the two of you do will at least make the hard life ahead of you a little easier for a child. 

4  Y E A R S  A F T E R

Heavy snow falls outside, adding to the thick layers on the ground and clouding the window you’re staring out of. The carrier is nicely heated, ensuring you and its other two occupants stay toasty as you keep eye out for incoming headlights. 

“Think that’s them,” Mike says, and you swivel to look out his driver’s side window to see two dull beams of light growing brighter and brighter. 

“Don’t know who else it would be,” you joke. “No one else is dumb enough to come back to this place.”

The only sign of your husband raising his eyebrows is the way his hat shifts slightly. “You’re right about that.”

Cinching fur-lined hoods tighter, you both slide out of the tram, boots crunching on ice and snow when you land on the ground. Mike circles to your side, opens the back door, then unbuckles and collects what looks to be a bundle of jackets in his arms. Two light eyes peer out between a beanie and a face mask, gloved hands reaching out and grabbing for you. 

“You want Mama?” Mike coos before passing your son to you.

You settle him on your hip, rub his shielded nose with yours, hoping your body heat will help keep him warm out here.

It’s been winter for… Years, now, the ash from the eruption having behaved exactly as you thought it would, blocking out the sun, and sending the planet hurtling into another ice age. It was something not everyone was prepared for—the intense cold, the food and water shortage, the isolation, but you were lucky. You had everything you needed.

The other snow vehicle stops a ways off, lights left on as two figures jump out, recognizable even when completely covered up. One is nearly as tall as Mike, the other considerably smaller even up close. 

Pulling his mask down, Erwin shows a brilliant smile as he stops in front of you and Mike, and Levi immediately protests— “Oi, cover your mouth, old man! You need it for more than just talking shit.”

Mike laughs, but still reprimands the other man with a pointed, “Levi,” and a nod toward the little boy you’re holding. 

“Fuck—I mean…” Levi takes in a deep breath then apologizes over the whistling wind and falling snow, “Sorry, Huck.”

Bouncing him on your hip, you peer at your son and prompt, “Huckleberry, you remember Levi and Erwin from the computer?” 

Though your team has seen him many times on Zoom and FaceTime, this is first time Huck is meeting any of them in the flesh.

Your son looks between them for a while, quiet as he sizes up both of the men, then he reaches out for Levi the same way he had for you just moments before. Levi makes a dissatisfied noise but still takes him from you, and once Huck is passed off, you shuffle to Erwin and wrap your arms around him, breathing into his chest and warming your face. 

Your boss squeezes you tightly, mutters a low, “I know, I missed you too.”

It isn’t enough to drown out Levi’s sing-song baby voice, and both you and Erwin glance over to find him with his forehead pressed to Huck’s as he teases, “Can’t believe your parents named you after a volcanic eruption. That was pretty dumb, right?”

Mike glides over, places one hand on Huck’s head and the other on Levi’s, then sighs. “Please don’t criticize my wife’s terrible taste in nam—”

“Hey! You agreed to it,” you shout, taking the little boy back from Levi and glaring at both the smiling men. “Better shut up before you give him a complex. He can understand things, you know. He’s three.”

“Huckleberry Pine Zacharias,” Levi scoffs. “I cannot stand you guys.”

“I think it’s a great name,” Erwin interjects, lightly tapping Huck’s nose under his mask. 

“Well, you have shit taste, too.”

“Obviously, if I married a little gremlin like you,” Erwin drawls easily, leaning into the punch that Levi throws into his arm.

“Anyway, we’re here for a reason, right? Other than freezing our asses off?”

“Yeah,” Mike nods, kicking at the snow on the ground like it’ll make a difference. 

All of you know that buried beneath all the white is dried pyroclast, but under that… 

Is what remains of Yellowstone.

“How do we even go about rebuilding?” Mike is the first to ask.

Erwin stares at his own feet, face scrunched up in thought for a while before looking back up and stating, “From the bottom. Everything starts with a good foundation.”

Levi just scoffs, but you and Mike lock eyes and share a hidden grin. 

You take Huck back from Levi, leaning in for a side hug as you do, then suggest to everyone, “Well, then, now that we’ve seen a little of what we’re working with, we should head back to the shelter and start making a plan.”

“Yeah,” Levi agrees. “Gotta start getting ready for the next eruption due in seven hundred thousand years, right?”

“Right.”

After splitting back up into the two separate carriers, Mike follows closely behind the other in order to make it to their newly built bunker without getting lost. It’s perpetually dark from the never ending snow and cloud coverage, hazardous even with the vehicle’s tracks, but you can’t find it in yourself to be scared. Not now, not when life finally feels to be returning to something close to normal. 

[mypoisonedvine]

Seeing Red | bodyguard!Bucky Barnes x actress!reader (part 6)

(part 1) (part 2) (part 3) (part 4) (part 5)

series summary:  bucky used to brag that he didn’t have a celebrity crush, or really care about famous people at all, which is what made him the perfect person to start working for a celebrity like yourself.  except, of course, it’s just his luck that he’d fall for you.  

word count: 5.1k

warnings: smut (in the form of road head lmao) plus some more implied smut and teasing and stuff, use of 'y/n' which is perfectly fine but it still makes me anxious cause I've never done it before, other than that just fluff and celebrity/PR stuff

You tilted your head slightly as you watched Bucky emerge from the pool, slicking his wet hair back out of his face, body dripping with cool droplets that sparkled in the afternoon sunlight.

Yeah, you were never going to get tired of this view.

“See somethin’ you like?” he grinned as he grabbed a towel and rubbed it over his hair before lowering it to dab off his shoulders and torso, his dog tags jingling lightly when he bumped against them.

“Yeah, why don’t you come over here and put that body on me?” you purred. He chuckled and stepped closer, tossing the damp towel aside before leaning down to climb onto your pool chair and hover above you; the dog tags hung low and tickled your stomach, making you giggle a little.

“I don’t know that I should, I actually have a girlfriend…” he explained, feigning hesitance as you sat up slightly to nibble at his jaw.

“You know, a lot of couples have a ‘celebrity pass,’ and I just so happen to be a celebrity… do you two have one of those?”

“Maybe we do,” he replied nonchalantly, raising an eyebrow.

“Who’s yours?”

“This really hot girl I saw once, in this really crappy movie,” he winked.

“Hey!” you laughed, shoving him back. “Which one of my movies is crappy?”

“What makes you think you’re the hot girl I’m talking about?” he countered.

“Oh, you’re really trying to get yourself in trouble.”

“Just to be clear— we’re not going to have any celebrity passes, right?" he frowned. "Because you know a lot of famous people and I don’t like those odds.”

You scoffed. “Definitely not.”

“Good. I can only handle one famous woman at a time anyways,” he chuckled.

//

He, meanwhile, would never get tired of waking up beside you, holding you before you were even really aware of anything yet, feeling you stir in his arms and snuggle up close to his chest.

“Bucky…” you mumbled sleepily into his shoulder.

“Yeah?” he whispered, smiling a little as your eyes fluttered but didn’t really open.

You just hummed and shifted again, looking so peaceful that he couldn’t help but kiss your forehead. “Mornin’, beautiful,” he purred.

And there was the best part of every morning: when you opened your eyes and looked up at him for the first time, and you smiled— actually smiled at the sight of him. He couldn’t remember the last time somebody was this happy to see him. He couldn’t imagine what he’d ever done to deserve it.

“Hi,” you greeted coyly.

“Hey there,” he grinned back. His eyebrow raised when he felt your foot delicately trail up the back of his leg, your hips beginning to straddle his. “Got somethin’ on your mind, pretty girl?”

“Maaaaybe…”

He chuckled, always impressed (in the best possible way) by your insatiability. “Already?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, “had a dream about you.”

“Care to enlighten me?” he prodded, rubbing your back with his metal hand.

“You had me bent over the bed…” you began, voice a bit lower than normal.

“Good start.”

“In my trailer," you finished.

“Oh, you’re filming in this dream?”

“Well, we weren’t filming right then," you grinned, and Bucky clenched his jaw just imagining the idea of filming you while he fucked you. Much too risky when celebrity sex tapes always seem to end up leaking, but a fun thought nonetheless. "But you made me promise to keep quiet in case somebody heard us. Said you didn’t want anybody else to know how I sound when I come.”

He smirked. “Seems like something I would say.”

“But really I liked the idea of everybody overhearing and knowing how good you make me feel… I want them all to know I’m yours.”

“Sounds like a nice dream,” he smirked, shivering slightly when you leaned in to start kissing his neck and jaw.

“Feel like making my dreams come true, stud?” you purred.

“Yes,” he admitted tensely, “but we don’t have time. You have a meeting at 9, remember?”

“No no no, we have time,” you assured. “We both know how fast you can make me come.”

“No point in doing something if you’re not gonna do it right,” he frowned, “and I don’t have time to do it right.”

“You really are just completely against quickies, aren’t you?”

“Morally and religiously, yes," he announced firmly as he puffed up his chest.

“Religiously?” you repeated with an eyeroll.

“Making you come at least three times is sacred,” he explained. “I worship your body. The shapes I make with my tongue on your clit? I’m spelling out my prayers.”

“You do spend a lot of time on your knees,” you remembered.

“Yeah, well, so do you,” he winked. “But you really do need to get up. And I need to shower before I go warm the car up.”

“Fine," you groaned, wrenching yourself out of his grasp and hopping out of bed.

"That's the spirit," he laughed, getting up with you and starting his own morning routine.

He had to keep you in check to make sure you were ready on time, but with a little encouragement he was able to get you in the car with even some time to spare. And since it was just the two of you and you weren't going to be seen getting out of the car, you could ride passenger and be closer to him.

"What's this meeting about again?" he asked as he took the car around the driveway and out of the front gate, starting the commute to the address you'd given him.

"Director wants me for a project, we're gonna talk about her vision and see if it's a good fit."

"Have you seen a script yet?" he asked, hoping that you'd let him take a look at it if you had.

"No, it's still being written, but the concept sounds amazing. I'll tell you all about it after the meeting," you promised.

He checked the estimated arrival time on the GPS screen and noticed it was even faster than he anticipated.

"Hey, we've got some room for error— do you wanna stop for breakfast?" he offered.

"I want breakfast, but I don't wanna stop," you decided.

"What, like drive-through?" he asked, but then you suddenly reached across the console and slid your hand over his thigh and right over his groin. "Oh, fuck."

You smirked as you leaned in a little bit, resting your head on his shoulder as he started to grow hard in your palm. "Keep your eyes on the road, okay?"

"O-okay," he nodded a little, shifting in his seat to make it easier for you to undo his belt and fly.

You reached into his boxers and wrapped your fingers around his shaft— even just that made him shiver and blink a few times to try to focus on driving. Your fingers were a little cold but it was welcome relief considering he was suddenly burning up.

A few strokes were enough to get him fully hard, and it took a deep breath to keep him together as you leaned your head down into his lap, giving a slow lick right over his tip. "Fuck," he whispered under his breath, but you definitely heard it because he could feel your smirk as you kissed up and down his length.

Just when he was about to beg for it, you wrapped your lips around him and sucked, gentle at first but slowly getting more aggressive as he fought the urge to buck up into your mouth.

"Oh god," he sighed, head falling back onto the headrest. Your tongue swiped over his slit where precum had gathered already, and it was just another reminder that you'd already found all his most sensitive places and planned to use them against him whenever you could.

A little hum echoing in your throat vibrated through his cock, making him hiss a little as you started to set your pace of bobbing up and down and stroking what you couldn't fit in your mouth. Little drops of your spit rolled down the shaft to his balls and if he wasn't trying to hard to look at the other cars on the road he would've let his eyes roll back in his head.

Finally, a red light gave him a chance to take his hands off the wheel and grab your hair, stroke your back, hold your face— he didn't really care what, he just needed to touch you.

"Baby," he groaned, "fuck, you're so good… keep sucking my cock, just like that, oh my god—"

A car horn tore him from the moment and made him realize the light had turned green. One hand quickly shot up to steer as he let his foot up off the brake, breathing through his teeth as you sucked him harder and deeper.

Just as he put his foot on the gas, you took him down your throat until your lips met with the very base of him, and the shock made his leg jerk and sent the car lurching forward.

You were laughing a little as you pulled off of him, still stroking his soaking wet length as you popped up to glance out the windshield and then up at him. "Drive much?"

"All the time," he defended breathlessly, "but, uh, not usually like this."

"You can handle it," you scoffed. "All you need to do is not hit any cars or poles or pedestrians. Just relax and let me get my breakfast…"

You went back down with a smirk as he exhaled sharply, silently promising himself that he was going to keep his cool and drive safely.

Instantly, the tip of your tongue just barely pushing into his slit sent that plan out the window, a loud moan echoing through the car and his eyes falling shut for only a moment.

"Jesus fucking Christ," he groaned.

You let out a coy little giggle before getting back into it, returning to your reliable pattern of stroking and sucking with the occasional venture into the back of your throat— but this time gaining speed steadily, making his toes curl inside his boots and the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.

His metal hand had a death grip on the steering wheel while his other stroked your hair and held you down just a moment longer each time your throat wrapped around his head.

"Fuck, baby, I'm gonna— oh god—" he tried to warn you.

You moaned approvingly, stroking your hand and bobbing your head faster.

His turn was coming up and he needed to get two lanes over, but at this point he accepted that he was going to miss the turn because he just needed to come down your throat right fucking now; he didn't even hear the GPS announcing that it was recalculating the route, he didn't even care that he was driving way too slow, all he could perceive was the feeling of your lips around him as he throbbed with each pump of his load onto your tongue.

"Fuuuuckkkk," he gasped as he held you down at your neck, making sure you got every drop. But that backfired pretty quickly when he let go and you still didn't come back up, sucking as if he hadn't come at all. "Oh— oh fuck!" he yelped, and his fears that his eyes would fall shut were gone because they were wide fucking open now, his breathing coming fast and hot through his teeth as your tongue refused to let up.

Your little moans made it clear this was not an accident, but a deliberate attack on his senses that made his entire body jolt.

He tried to pull you off of him, and you resisted for just a moment before finally giving him a break, popping up from his lap to swallow what was in your mouth and lick your lips with a prideful smirk. He allowed himself a quick glance at your satisfied expression as he laughed exhaustedly, still trying to catch his breath as you leaned back in your seat.

"You are…" he began, but he didn't even know where to start. "That was dangerous," he decided to inform you instead.

"But it was fun," you grinned.

Another red light gave him a chance to tuck his softened cock back into his jeans. "We're just a few minutes away, so I don't have time to return the favor," he realized with a frown.

"Don't sweat it, I get the feeling you're gonna more than make it up to me tonight."

"What makes you so sure?" he smirked, even though you were completely right.

"Because I'm gonna take you out somewhere fancy, and you always put out after I buy you dinner," you explained with a chuckle.

"It's cause every time we go out, I have to act all professional and stuff, so when we get home I just can't wait to get my hands on you again."

He pulled in to the parking garage of the studio, finding a spot before turning off the car. You were about to grab your bag but he pulled you into a kiss; not so desperate since he'd just come two minutes ago, but still plenty passionate as his tongue slid over yours in search of the taste of himself to remember what you'd done even clearer.

Your lips moved against his with a quiet little moan, so precious that he couldn't stop himself from gripping your waist tightly.

"You're sure you can't be a few minutes late?" he mumbled, barely pulling back as he reached up and held your face in his hands. "We could get in the back and you could ride me real quick."

"Ah ah ah, we know there's no 'real quick' with you, you said it yourself," you reminded him. "You'll say it's just to take the edge off and then I'll end up folded like a pretzel while you rail me for an hour."

He laughed; he couldn't deny that. "Fair enough. Go to your stupid meeting."

"It won't even take that long," you promised. "And I'll be thinking of you the whole time… hard not to when sucking you off got me so wet."

"Fuck," he growled, "you'd better leave now before I change my mind and make you stay."

You smiled and gave him a peck on the nose before opening the door and getting out of the car. He took a moment to watch you walk away before grabbing his newest borrowed book from the glovebox: Tuck Everlasting. You promised this one wouldn't make him cry which was the only way he agreed to read it because he couldn't handle another sad ending again. And, because he was a little too in love to think straight, he actually believed you.

He hadn't told you yet, though; it was way, way too early for him to feel this way at all, let alone tell you about it. For now, the two of you had something great going, and he didn't want to rush it. Well, he did want to rush it, but he knew he shouldn't, so he kept his feelings to himself for the time being.

//

You were heating up some Vietnamese leftovers on the stove (you’d taught Bucky to stop using the microwave to reheat noodles and now he would never go back) while your boyfriend relaxed on the couch, attempting to find something decent to watch with your meal.

“Hey, one of your movies is on later,” he noticed as he scrolled through the channels. “We could watch that.”

Maybe it was weird that you watched your own movies pretty often— after all, plenty of actors preferred to avoid seeing their own performance— but it made perfect sense to you; you took roles in the kinds of movies that you enjoyed watching and wanted to see more of. It wasn’t that you sought out something you’d been in to watch, and it definitely wasn’t that you didn’t cringe a little watching yourself, but you just happened to like a lot of the things that you’d been in. Plus, they brought back sweet memories. “Oh, which one?” you asked, focusing mainly on stirring the food in the wok.

“After Midnight,” he informed you, and your smile dropped.

“Oh. Um, I don’t like that one,” you dismissed quickly, “what else could we watch?”

“Really?” he pressed, unfortunately not following your segue. “It’s pretty popular… I never saw it, sorry, but I figured I should. Is it not good?”

“No, it’s good, it just—”

“Then what don’t you like about it?”

“Do you not know that I did that movie with Sam Wilson?” you finally blurted out.

“Oh…” he deflated slightly. “You two dated, didn’t you?”

“Yeah, over a year,” you remembered, sounding more somber than you intended.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to bring up any bad memories,” he frowned, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly.

“No, it’s okay, it’s not bad memories,” you soothed.

“Well, I didn’t mean to bring up any good memories either,” he smirked. “I guess you guys were pretty serious?”

“I thought so,” you answered, leaving the silent second half hanging in the air: He didn’t.

“Kinda sucks you can’t watch your own movie just ‘cause your ex is in it,” he realized.

“Yeah, that one’s especially hard since that’s how we met and all… and I was basically the only person on the planet who didn’t watch Code Gray while it was on,” you remembered. “I mean, everyone was talking about it and I just had to smile and nod and try to ignore the big-ass billboards in LA with his face on them. You get used to that last part, though.”

“Maybe you get used to it, but I don’t think I will,” he admitted.

“I guess it’s easier when you’ve already seen your own face on a billboard,” you shrugged, turning off the stove and distributing the food into two bowls.

"That reminds me, I saw your perfume ad on the side of a skyscraper yesterday," he told you proudly.

"Oh yeah? How's it look?" you asked as you stuck some chopsticks into the food and brought it with you to the living room.

"Looks good, I guess, but it doesn't really look like you to me. You're so airbrushed I couldn't see all my favorite little details of your face," he admitted as you set the bowls on the coffee table.

"That's the nature of the game," you shrugged, joining him on the couch and relaxing against his chest as he embraced you.

“Dating in the public eye must be tough…” he mumbled. You twiddled your thumbs and wondered if that meant he didn’t want to go public with you. He must have sensed your discomfort; he always did. “What’s on your mind, beautiful?”

"Would you ever want to… you know… go public? I wouldn't blame you if you'd rather stay this way as long as possible—"

"What?!" he scoffed. "Baby… I don't care about the spotlight, for better or for worse, I just care about you. And I want to shout it from the fucking rooftops if you'll let me."

You grinned and snuggled up into his arms. “Really?”

“Yeah,” he hummed.

“We could, you know… start that process, if you wanted.”

“What about what you want?” he pressed instead.

“I want everybody to know,” you decided with a smile that you tried (and failed) to fight. “I want to be able to go out with you and not worry about who sees or how you touch me.”

He grinned and kissed you, gentle but a little bit less than innocent. "I want that too," he whispered.

"Then let's do it," you announced giddily. "But, let's have dinner first."

//

He was reading as he waited for you in bed, starting to pick up on the fact that you'd duped him into another heartbreaking read. He was about to confront you about it when you returned from the hallway, but you spoke first.

"I just got off the phone with my publicist," you informed him, "she thinks we should get papped together before I post about it on Instagram."

"'Get papped'?" he repeated incredulously as he slipped a bookmark between the pages and set the novel aside. "Is that some sort of hip slang for getting a pap smear because, I'll warn you now, I’m pretty sure anatomy dictates that we can't do that together."

"Paparazzi," you clarified unamusedly as you got in bed next to him. "She wants us to go to lunch or something and tip off a few photographers; it'll be in the gossip rags by tomorrow."

"God, being famous sounds weird as fuck," he shivered.

"You'll find out for yourself soon," you warned, half ominous and half humorous, as you laid your head on his chest. "You're gonna have your own following once this hits."

He grimaced a little, afraid of becoming slightly famous in his own rite just for dating you when he didn't actually have any talent worthy of attention or praise. “Oh god, I’m not gonna have to make an Instagram, am I?”

"No, but you might want to consider a tinted moisturizer," you pondered aloud as you suddenly examined his face closely.

He gently batted your hand away as you reached up to poke his cheek. "Okay, I get it, I'm old. Makeup ain't gonna fix that."

"You're not old," you laughed, "and it's not that there's anything wrong with your face, it's just that everybody looks washed out on camera and the magazines and their readers are fucking ruthless. If I go out without mascara they'll start running shit about how I'm turning into a crypt keeper. God forbid I wear a tight shirt after eating a massive burrito; they'll pick out baby names for me."

"Christ," he groaned.

"You still wanna do this right?" you asked quietly, shifting from joking to concerned so quickly.

"Of course," he assured, clutching your hand where it had been absent-mindedly rubbing over his chest hair. "Do you?"

"Yeah," you smiled, relaxing again. "I can't wait, honestly."

"Then let's do the lunch thing tomorrow. You have to help me pick what to wear, though." Your arms wrapped around his torso and hugged him tight. "Ooh, don't squeeze me so hard, I ate a lot of Vietnamese food," he frowned.

"Sorry," you giggled, still holding him close but applying less pressure. He wrapped his arm around your shoulders, instinctively stroking your arm with his thumb for a moment before leaning over to turn off the lamp on his bedside table.

Yes, his bedside table, with a drawer full of his stuff. Next to your bed. It was like his wildest (yet most domestic) fantasies coming true and he was beside himself about it.

"G'night," you whispered, cuddling up closer to him.

"Goodnight," he whispered back, planting a kiss on the top of your head. He stayed awake just long enough to hear your breathing and feel your heartbeat as they slowed down, only then allowed himself to fall asleep as well.

//

You'd convinced him to stick to his usual style of 90% leather and denim, while you opted for the classic "I'm famous but I'm pretending I'm normal but I'm definitely not" look of jeans and a t-shirt that looked casual but actually cost nearly a grand combined. It was the ideal look for allegedly-candid pap pics, in your mind; unfortunately, the ribs were wanted to order were not part of that look, and you frowned a little as you ordered your salad and gave the menu back to your waitress.

"I'll have the same," Bucky mumbled quickly and handed his menu over as well, the waitress nodding before she stepped away.

"Salad? Really?" you questioned, fixing your hair for a moment since the breeze had messed it up slightly; you had to sit outside for visibility reasons, and thankfully the weather was gorgeous, but you could do without the wind.

"I'm not stupid, I know better than to unhinge my jaw to eat a burger when I'm going to be photographed," he chuckled. "I'm not hungry anyways, I'm too nervous."

"Don't be nervous," you dismissed, "all you have to do is sit here and not suppress the instinct to act like my boyfriend."

He reached forward and rested his hand on top of yours on the table, stroking your wrist with his thumb. "How about this?"

You smiled a little, feeling your face warm; sometimes he made you feel all shy and giddy like that, just from the simplest things.

“So, when are the paparazzi getting here?” he asked, breaking the silence that you hadn't even really noticed before, too lost in your thoughts.

“They’re already here. Across the street, behind those bushes.”

“Wha— oh my god,” Bucky gasped as he craned his head to see there were, in fact, cameras obscured behind the foliage, “they’re good!”

“Yeah, it’s too bad they use their powers for evil most of the time,” you frowned. “Spent a lot of time and money trying to keep less flattering pictures out of the papers.”

“How ‘less flattering’ are we talking here?” he pressed with a raised eyebrow.

“Unfortunate angles while getting out of a car… maybe a rendezvous on a balcony that we thought was totally private…”

“Do I want to know who the ‘we’ was?”

“Nope,” you grinned. "That's all in the past now… and right now I'm here with you." For emphasis, you slipped one of your shoes off and playfully trailed your foot up his leg.

"Careful there, honey, or you're gonna end up with some more dirty pictures to bribe some sleaze into deleting," he warned with a smirk.

"Just gotta make sure these pictures make it clear we're not just friends," you explained, shrugging a little but wiggling your toes as you moved just past his knee before going back down and slipping your shoe on.

"Maybe we're just really, really good friends."

"Ever gotten this personal at lunch with a really, really good friend?" you asked playfully.

"No, I don't think so…"

"Ever had sex in the bathroom of a really fancy restaurant?" you added, voice dropping as you grinned.

"No, and I never will," he laughed, "because the chances of getting caught are astronomically too high. We literally came here for the express purpose of getting caught."

"Yeah, fair enough," you deflated slightly, taking another bite of your salad.

It was easy after that: just talking with him as naturally as you always did. He glanced over at the hidden photographers occasionally but you'd all but forgotten they were there.

"Well, I think our job here is done," you decided after a half hour had passed. You stood up from your chair and he followed suit, but he stopped you before you turned away.

"Not quite yet," he smirked as he pulled you closer and into a kiss— one that just barely pushed into 'a little too steamy for out in public' territory. Even so, he was the one that had to pull away first because you quickly got so lost in it that you would've let him go on forever. "Now we're done."

"Yep, that'll do it!" you laughed, hugging him quickly before dropping a fifty on the table (it was a 40% tip but who cares) and leading him back to the car.

//

His phone was already set to give him news updates about you, and he smirked when he checked it after dinner only to see your plan already in motion so easily.

New photos spark Y/N Y/L/N dating rumors

Is Y/N Y/L/N dating again after highly-publicized romance with ‘Code Gray’ star Sam Wilson?

‘Touch of Blood,’ ‘After Midnight’ Star Spotted At More-Than-Friendly Lunch with Her Bodyguard

Y/N Y/L/N and Mystery Guy Get Frisky Over Salads at Lazan Bistro In The Lower East Side

“Now we just have to wait until tomorrow,” you smirked. “Is it weird that I’m all jittery about it? I mean, it doesn’t really matter, cause we’re the only thing that matters, but—”

“No, it’s okay, I’m excited too,” he agreed, setting his phone down and wrapping his arms around your waist. “Although I am enjoying my last day of anonymity.”

“Soak it in, Bucky-boy, most of us don’t get the chance to really appreciate it before it’s gone,” you giggled. “You should go out and celebrate— go grocery shopping, see a movie, something I can’t do anymore.”

“If you can’t do it anymore, does that mean you’re not coming with me?”

“That’s sort of the point.”

“But I’ll miss you…”

“You’re so needy,” you rolled your eyes. “But I like it,” you added with a peck to his cheek.

“Need anything from the grocery store? Or the movie theater?”

“All I need is a kiss before you go,” you decided.

He purred and pulled you a little closer, ghosting his lips over your cheek. “Do I get to pick where it is?”

“Above the belt,” you scolded playfully.

“That still gives me plenty of options,” he smiled as he leaned down to lift your shirt up, deciding to place his slow, gentle kiss onto your nipple. He wrapped his lips around it carefully, circling his tongue around the bud as it hardened.

“Oh fuck,” you sighed, weaving your fingers into his hair.

He grinned and looked up at you, pulling away just a little too soon to hear your pretty whines. Who’s the needy one now? “Can I give you one more kiss, on the other one?”

“Only in the interest of symmetry,” you smirked, moaning when he moved to the other nipple and sucked it a little harder than the last. He let his teeth just barely graze the sensitive skin, your body jolting in his arms at the sensation.

“Oh, I bit this one but not the first one,” he realized, “so I’m gonna have to go back. For symmetry.”

He kissed his way back and gave a rough lap over it before sucking it between his lips and using his teeth just like he’d promised. “God, just fuck me.”

“Really? I thought you wanted me to go out without you,” he remembered.

“Later,” you sighed, “need you now.”

A prideful grin stretched over his face as he stood back up and held you tight, tapping your back to instruct you to jump into his arms and wrap your legs around his hips— which you did instinctively, much to his delight. “Okay, pretty girl, let’s get you to bed.”

[drawlfoy]

Wonders of Ohio P.8

masterlist (read parts 1-7 here!) request guidelines

pairing: draco x reader

request: no ma’am this was spawned in the pits of my hell brain

summary: y/n’s family takes on a particularly mysterious exchange student, draco malfoy. fyi: this is NOT a non magic AU--draco is still a wizard

warnings: swearing, college admissions (ew), vague mentions of a car accident

a/n: hey...ahahahaha yeah so when i disappeared from the writing scene i was actually sitting on this chapter because i wanted to finish the entire scene up until draco came back home, but i haven’t quite figured out how everything is going to work in the middle of this story bc we’re getting into the thick of it. things are only going to get more and more wild and while i have the ending already written (oopsies), there’s still a lot to cover between december and august. i promise you it’ll be worth it tho--thanks so much for waiting!

word count: 2.5k

no music recs because i wrote this in november and i don’t remember ANYTHING!

tags tags tags (message me if you’d like to be tagged!) @icintliviinyiniilsiji @erisdogwood @loveissupernatural @gruffle1 @missmulti @cleopatera @hahaboop @accio-rogers @geeksareunique @eltanin-malfoy @war-sword @cams-lynn @itsivyberry @ayo-cowbelly @nerd-domland @yesnerdsblog @shizarianathania @evanstanfanatic @strawberriesonsummer @hariosborn @night-ving @straightzoinked @imintoodeeptostop @naiomimoonshard @jejegu @ophelia-enthusiast @alwaysbeanunknownfan

Y/N froze as she heard someone clear their throat behind her.

In any other situation, she would have fibbed, the lies rolling off her tongue and falling into a neat pile.

But this wasn’t just any situation. 

“Drac--uh, Draco,” she began, rather lamely. She wondered if he could see what she had been doing and then immediately stopped that train of thought--of course he could, she was sitting there crouched with his letters all over the floor next to her.

Y/N had never seen him look so terrible--his eyes were saucers and his fists were clenching and unclenching at his sides.

“What’s up?” she asked. Maybe I got really lucky and he hasn’t noticed yet.

His mouth opened and closed a few times as he seemed to agonize over what to say. 

“Give me those letters back,” he finally said. “And come into my room. We need to talk.”

She scrambled to get everything back into the satchel--honestly, how had all those fit into such a tiny bag?--and tossed it into his hand. He refused to make eye contact and instead yanked her into his room, shutting the door before closing the blinds.

“Uh...what’s going o--”

“Don’t play dumb,” he snapped. “You know what you read.”

She withered under his gaze, all of a sudden trained on her with a heat that could melt through iron. 

“Here’s how this is going to go,” he said tying up the satchel and tossing it into a drawer. “You’re going to sit right there and tell me everything that you know. And no lying. I can always tell.”

Something about the weight of his words told her that the last part wasn’t hyperbole. “O--okay. Um, I know that you’re kind of strange, and I know that your family definitely isn’t into politics because unless you’ve changed your name I haven’t been able to find shit on your family...I know that you’re here for some kind of punishment, or at least that’s what the letter said, and that wherever you’re from believes in, uh, magic, or something…”

Y/N had never been so scared of Draco as she was right then. He stood looming over her, his eyes calculating and cold. “You’re telling the truth.”

“Uh--how did you--”

“Is there anything else you want to know? Ask now or forever hold your peace. I promise I’ll take care of this.”

Y/N blinked. “What? What do you mean take care…”

“Don’t...just don’t ask that right now.” Draco’s demeanor made a switch from intimidating to exhausted. His previous towering presence looked more mournful than anything. 

“Ok,” said Y/N, willing to take something else over nothing. “So...why are you here? Where are you actually from? What happened to your dad?”

Draco drew in a few slow breaths. “My family’s name is Malfoy. I never lied to you about that. We’re from England, like you think. But we’re not really from the same world as you.”

He looked at her, gauging her reaction. When nothing came, he continued. “I’m...magic, as you would probably say. Like, wizards and witches and shit. Like the stuff all of you here celebrate for Halloween. Just more real.”

“You’re off your rocker is what you are,” said Y/N. “Magic isn’t real.”

“You’re right, it isn’t,” Draco replied, his tone wearing down. “Not to you. It’s very real to me.”

“Were you in a cult or something because that’s absolute batshit cra--”

“Oh my fucking God can you just listen,” he said in one long-winded breath. “Thank you. Not that it matters that much if you actually believe me and I’m not allowed to show you any magic--they almost sent me back home for spelling my hair neat that one time in the car with you--but you should believe. Did you really think you were just sick after Homecoming? Like, did you think that was the common cold or something?”

“Well…” Y/N trailed off as realization dawned on her.

“I don’t know how you got into that store, but it was magic. Whatever object you picked up did something to you. You would’ve died from muggle care--the only possible treatment was extracting whatever magic had somehow gotten inside you.”

“So you were the person in my dream.”

“Yes. Anyways. So back in England, my family got wrapped up in some...dark business with a very evil wizard. I had to do some things that I’d rather not get into, and those things were serious offenses in the eyes of the Ministry--which is like your government. I was sent here as a punishment instead of something more severe.”

Y/N snorted. “Assuming all of this is true, why did you get sent to America? Normally exchange students see trips to the US as a kind of vacation...but I do understand the part of Ohio being used as a punishment.”

His face was void of amusement. 

“I wasn’t sent here because Ohio is boring,” he said. “I was sent here to be forced to assimilate into muggle society--”

“Muggle?”

“People who aren’t magic. Anyways, that was the punishment. Having to live with and associate with muggles, far enough away from home that I faced no threat of vigilantism and couldn’t escape.”

“Oh.” Y/N deflated into her seat as it all began to hit her. So that was why Draco was so disgusted with her. There was a reason why some gut feeling told her that he would never see her like....that.

“Anyways, for the less exciting part.” Draco turned to rifle around the jewelry box they’d kept in the guest room. “It’s crucial to the safety of my people that you don’t know about us. Muggles get scared, and sometimes they hurt us. They nearly wiped us out a few generations ago.” 

He turned around, wielding a small wooden cube that glimmered in the light. “I’m really sorry, Y/N. I have to do this. If they know you know, they’ll send me away.”

“Do...what?” She stared up at him as he approached, holding the square out in his palms. “Draco, what’s going--”

“I told you I’d take care of it,” he said, his tone pleading. “I’m going to make you forget.”

~

Y/N eyes flickered open. It was chilly in her room--one look confirmed the fact that her window was wide open--but she had a thick blanket pulled over her. As she shed the last pulses of drowsiness, one thought bubbled to the surface: 

That fucker.

She sat up, threw the blankets off her bed, and started towards the guest room.

“Hey,” she said, yanking the door open and standing in front of a very surprised Draco. “Nice try. Are we actually gonna talk this through, or are you gonna put me to sleep again?” 

“Wha-”

“I remember everything, dipshit. Especially the part where you didn’t let me say my piece before you knocked me out.”

“I-”

“Try and steal my memories again and it’s on sight, Draco.” Y/N sucked in a deep breath and finally slumped down onto his bed. “You were saying?”

“How did you...er...you’re not supposed to remember me,” he said. “Do you have any magic blood in your family? Do you know?”

“Look around. If we had magic blood we wouldn’t be living in Ohio.”

“I’m not joking around.” He joined her and laid back. Y/N tried to not make a mental note of how a few strands of his hair brushed up against her cheek for a second. He smelled of peppermint and pine. “There’s no reason why that shouldn’t have worked. You definitely aren’t magic--I can feel it, no offense--and that Obliviation cube was explicitly created to work on muggles and wipe specific memories of magic.”

“I guess I’m just better.”

“Not funny. I’m definitely going to get sent to some random village in...I don’t know, Siberia for this. And your whole family will be obliviated. The whole point of me telling you was so I could get you to understand why I had to wipe your memory.”

“That’s horribly disrespectful, you know. Not even asking for my consent before doing such a thing? Try again.”

“I will,” he said, sitting up and grabbing the cube again. 

Y/N sprung up and scooted away. “Wait! Wait! That was a joke! Can’t we just talk this through? I’m a really good liar.”

“Lying doesn’t matter in front of the Ministry. They have their ways.”

“And what’s the Ministry going to do?” she asked. “Because, right now, it looks like I know about your secret and they’re not knocking down my door yet. Are they seriously going to break into my own home and perform some kind of lie detector test on me out of the blue? Are they really gonna cause a scene like that? No? I didn’t think so.”

Draco looked even paler than usual as he examined her from the other side of the bed, his adam's apple bobbing up and down as he swallowed. “I hope you’re grasping the severity of this. This isn't a fun little joke. This is the difference between my community living or dying.”

“I get that. But if I say I’m not going to tell anyone, then how is your community at risk?”

“You can’t promise me that.”

“Draco.” Her tone was strong enough to make him snap his head up and meet her eyes. “You saved my life. I’ve lived with you for almost 3 months. Trust me when I say I don’t want anything bad to happen to you. Swear on my life.”

The silence was tangible between the two as he stood there staring.

“You have to trust me,” said Y/N. “Please.”

Draco met her eyes again, a type of helplessness written so deeply into the etches of his face that he nearly looked like a different person than the proud, posh British boy that was usually him. “Okay.”

“Okay.” She let out a sigh of relief as he put the cube back into the drawer. 

“Don’t get too comfortable, though,” he told her. “Once I figure out how to fix this, I won’t need to trust you anymore.”

“You’ve been trusting me with your life since the moment you got into a car with me for the first time. Do you have any idea how many teenagers crash on the freeway? I don’t get why this is so different.”

He scowled. “I think it’s very obviously different.”

“I can pull up the stats for you real quick if you want. Just so you can grasp the severity of the situation that you’re minimizing right now.”

“Damn it, Y/N, you don’t understand!” Draco slammed his hands on the dresser, the wood making a loud smack sound as it connected with his palms. She jumped. “All my life I’ve been...You just don’t understand.”

“You have no other option, Draco,” said Y/N. 

“I...I know.”

~

The next few weeks were profoundly uncomfortable. If it wasn’t just for the fact that there had been a burglar turned home invader turned...whatever on the loose, Y/N was now dealing with the fact that her world as she knew it was turning upside down.

Draco was magic. He was different, and while this at first had been difficult for Y/N to believe, she began to realize just how much sense it made. The way the most ordinary of daily objects confused him...his discomfort with using the internet...his distaste for all of the people he met…either he was raised under a legitimate rock or he was telling the truth....

And perhaps the most conclusive revelation regarded his stance on his feelings towards her. After that night at Sylvia’s, Y/N had begun to think that there might be something there, or at least that something there might’ve been possible.

Now she knew that it wasn’t. And she had to be okay with that.

Draco was for the most part normal apart from the fact that his wariness around her was obvious. She could feel him keeping a close eye on her in the halls when she spoke with her friends. Sometimes he’d even level a look in her direction, a clear demand written all over his face: Not a word. You promised.

Evening teas stopped entirely. Draco ate in his room for breakfast and seldom said anything on the rides to and from school, and, to be entirely honest, it helped. She could feel her hopeless crush become weaker as the month of November wore on. Her giddy excitement towards a possible love interest was directed to the nervous dwellings on her UChicago application. 

Results were out on December 3rd, and she was absolutely buzzing. Fuck weird blond boys that came into her life and told her of an entire mystical and magical world out there--the gothic, hallowed architecture of UChicago was waiting for her. 

“Honey, it’s almost 5!” 

“I know.”

Y/N sat, cross legged on her bed, as she looked at the email she’d received moments ago from UChicago. In 3 minutes, the portal would open up. And her fate would be decided.

“Don’t open it yet, your father and I are coming!” Mrs. Y/L/N yelled from the kitchen. 

She smiled--for once, her father had managed to take a night off of work to be there for her. The only person missing in their home was Draco, and she supposed that he didn’t count anymore. At least not in the classic way. 

5:00pm.

“Hold on, hold on.” Her father’s voice carried down the hall, paired with the sound of feet thumping up the stairs.

Her parents appeared in the doorway, rushing to her and peeking over her shoulder.

“Are you ready to open it?” Mrs. Y/L/N asked, placing her hand on Y/N’s shoulder. 

“Uh...yes.” Her stomach flipped as she pressed her mouse over the blue hyperlink, directing the screen to show a login page. She wasn’t quite sure what it would look like--perhaps her decision would be right there when she logged in--but despite her racing thoughts, she input her portal information, pressed enter, and squeezed her eyes shut.

Dead silence.

“Honey.”

Her mother’s voice was strife with...some kind of emotion, whatever it was. Y/N dared to pry her eyelids open just a pinch, giving her just enough vision to read out the clear “CONGRATULATIONS” spanning the entirety of her page.

“Oh my god. Oh my god!”

The euphoria that followed was indescribable. Her father’s arms, encircling her shoulders in a way he hadn’t done since she was a child, her mother’s professions of how proud she was...incredible.

The only thing sullying it was a Draco shaped figure looming in the doorway once the hysteria died down.

“What happened?”

“I got into UChicago!” she exclaimed, her voice brimming with enthusiasm. 

He simply stared at her, his gaze cool and uninterested. Y/N felt all the joy drain from her face. “I hate to butt in, but I have some news too. I’ll be traveling back home for the holidays.”

“Oh.” Irritation was written clear as day across Mrs. Y/L/N’s face. “When will you be leaving?”

“Tomorrow.”

final a/n: heyyyyyy everyone let me know what you thought. what do you guys think will happen next chapter? how do you think this is going to end overall? ik this is a draco x reader but do you guys think that draco still has a ways to go before he can have feelings for y/n? or does he already have them? im inch rested please lmk your thoughts

also my endless apologies to ohioans i did not mean to add the slander in there ik that plenty of you are lovely people <3 cancel me if you wish 

[spencerreidslove]

Angst but maybe no spoilers bc I’m only on s1😅

A/N: You are BOLD for reading fanfic when you’re in season 1. I could never. I was actually really excited to write this beacuse I’ve never written anything with Elle before and I love her. I tried not to spoil anything but we’ll see if I did a good job.

————

He was drifting. You could tell.

Three phone calls and no answers to any of them. You thought about calling Penelope and asking her if Spencer was ok, but you didn’t want to bother him if he was in the middle of the case.

It was dark outside and he still wasn’t home. Spencer said that they would be celebrating his birthday at work, which they did a few days ago, but then they got called out on a case.

Earlier today, Spencer had briefly called you and said that he would be home tonight. It was nearing 2 am and and he still wasn’t home.

You sighed as you looked at the cupcakes you had baked and put them in the fridge. Vanilla with chocolate frosting. Spencer’s favorite.

Maybe they ended up getting delayed with the case or the weather was bad and they couldn’t fly. It didn’t matter.

You went into your bedroom and slid into bed. You had work tomorrow and it wasn’t worth it waiting up for Spencer.

-

The next morning when you woke up, Spencer was in bed beside you. He was fast asleep, and you didn’t want to wake him, so you quietly slid out of bed and made your way to the kitchen.

You stood there for a moment before pulling out boxes of cereal and started making coffee. You were going to make waffles, but if you started now they wouldn’t be done in time for you to leave for work.

As you sat and ate your cereal, you flipped through the pages of a book. A little while later, Spencer came out from the bedroom, rubbing his eyes.

“Mornin’” you said, glancing up from your book.

“Hi.” Spencer said. He opened the fridge, and looked at the cupcakes that were sitting there. On the top in purple frosting they spelled out “Happy Birthday”

“Did you get delayed last night?” You asked, going over to the sink and rinsing your bowl.

“Yeah. Bad weather.” Spencer said quietly. You sighed. For being such a good profiler, Spencer was a horrible lair. Whatever had kept him last night it wasn’t weather.

“Well, we can celebrate tonight, right?” You asked.

“Yeah, unless I get called away.” Spencer said. You went back into the bedroom and got dressed. A few minutes later you were leaving to get to work.

“Bye, Spence! Love you!” You called out to the bathroom where Spencer was showering. You hoped the silence on his end was due to the water.

-

Over the course of the last few weeks Spencer seemed to grow more and more distant. His calls were brief, conversation short.

You knew deep down it was coming to an end, but some part of you just hoped it would all go back to how it was.

When he said “I love you too.” Instead of ignoring you or hiding away in the bathroom so he didn’t have to answer.

Today you were hopeful. Spencer was gone on a case, but he had been gone for three days, so you hoped he would be back today.

Around three, you got a phone call. It was from Elle. Even though she worked with Spencer, you, her, and Penelope had become fast friends.

“Happy Birthday!” She said as soon as you answered.

“Thanks!” You said, laughing. “Are you guys done with the case.”

“Yeah, we’re headed to the airport now and it’s a long flight so don’t expect Reid to be home til late.” Elle said.

You chatted for a few more minutes before she said she had to go because Morgan was bugging her.

Later you got calls from everybody but Spencer saying Happy Birthday to you. You hoped that was just beacuse he had a surprise planned, but deep down you knew that wasn’t it.

You stayed up on the couch watching your favorite movies and TV shows until nearly midnight. You decided to get ready for bed and then give Elle a call ask if they were off the plane yet.

You got an answer after a few rings. “Hey.” Elle said when she answered.

“I just wanted to know if you guys were off the plane yet.” You said.

“Yeah, we landed two hours ago.” Elle said. “Is Reid not home yet?”

Your silence was the answer.

“I’m sure he’s just planning something for you. You know the kid, he probably just got carried away in Party City or something.” Elle said, trying to reassure you.

“Yeah, I’m sure he’ll be home soon.” You said. After a few more minutes, you hung up and grabbed a book and sat down on the couch.

You read for a little while before you fell asleep.

-

Around 3 am, you woke up to Spencer leaning over the couch and pulling a blanket over you.

“What are you doing out here?” Spencer asked with the most care in weeks.

“I was waiting for you.” You said, waking up. You took in his appearance. Spencer wasn’t holding any bags, or anything special, he looked how he normally looked.

“Why?” Spencer asked. “You shouldn’t have waited.”

You took a long look at his face. “Spencer what was yesterday?” You asked.

“Tuesday. The 18th.” He said.

You shifted so you were sitting up. “What else?”

Spencer didn’t answer.

“You have an eidetic memory and you don’t remember what yesterday was?” You said, getting a little upset.

“No? Should I have?” Spencer said.

You scoffed. “It was my birthday, Spencer. Everybody remebered but you. I even got a message from your boss telling me happy birthday but you couldn’t bother to remember!”

Spencer paused, before realization dawned on his face. “I didn’t mean to forget! I just...with the case, I only got back half an hour ago!”

“I know you’re lying. I called Elle to ask when you had landed. You got back at 10. Where were you?”

Spencer didn’t answer.

“Where was so important that you couldn’t be home on your girlfriend’s own birthday?”

“I was at JJ’s for dinner. I lost track of time and fell asleep there. I meant to be home sooner...but.”

You paused, trying to collect your thoughts. “Is that where you’ve been going recently? To JJ’s?”

Spencer’s silence was the only answer you needed.

“You don’t love me anymore, do you?” You asked.

Spencer didn’t answer.

“Do you?” You asked, needing to hear him say the words.

“No.” Spencer whispered. “I don’t know how it happened. I loved you until I didn’t.”

“Get out of my apartment.” You said quietly.

“Y/N, what?”

“Be glad we never moved in together, and get out of my apartment. I will bring you your stuff tomorrow. But for now, get out.”

Spencer grabbed his bag and quietly left. The moment you heard the door close, you broke down and sobbed.

Your heart was broken in two. You loved Spencer more than you had ever loved another person, and just like that he was gone.

He didn’t love you anymore.

Maybe you were never meant to be together from the start.

Tags! (Open)

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[missdawnandherdusk]

cardigan~

Draco X Reader

Summary: cardigan by taylor swift (requested by @anchorclifford​)

A/N: okay so this is a bit different from my normal stuff, but I’m experimenting here, so this is a bit more poetic than prose, and therefore not as long. But it does capture the mood and tone of cardigan, so it has that going for it. Let me know if you want other folklore songs done in this sort of manner, because I actually kinda love the simplicity of it. 

It had been a long while.

Almost five years since the war. 

Five years since they fell in love. 

~

Today was the first day that you took me to Hogsmeade as my official significant other. I will always remember it. The way your hand fit in mine as you led me along the cobblestone paths. I was surprised that your harsh exterior melted like the snow on the ground. You were so sweet and kind. A gentleness I had never expected from you.

I’ve heard so many rumors about you, but they seem to fall to the wayside when I look at you. When you’re with me it’s like that you, the you that they’ve invented no longer exists. They warned me. Told me I didn’t know you. That I was too young.

But you always seemed to prove them wrong. Even today, you proved them wrong. You didn’t bat an eyelash at my muggle t-shirt or old cardigan. You gave me the same amused smile and took my hand. You wrapped your arm around my shoulder all the same. You kissed me like there was no one but us.

You made me fall in love, Draco Malfoy.

 ~

You’re going to be the death of me one day. You always seem to know how to catch me by surprise. Casual in old sweaters or dolled up in high heels and black lipstick you probably borrowed from Pansy. A versatile beauty that only belongs to you that not even Aphrodite can tread upon.

But rather tonight I think is what did me in. Slightly drunk and walking home from a downtown bar. The way your hips swayed softly in your Levi jeans and the taste of whiskey on your lips that seemed to numb all of my pain. The way your hands slipped under my sweatshirt as you’d press a kiss to wherever you could reach, and I let you. Knowing one was one to many, but one

more was never enough. You told me that I was your favorite, not caring to elaborate as a dopey smile crossed your lips. It made me fall all the more.

My mother scoffed at my declaration of love for you. She said I was too young. She said you were too young. That we knew nothing.

But I knew you, Y/n. 

~

It was a long cold winter and a lonely summer. He had not written her a letter. He had not sent her a letter. She watched and waited by a window for an owl that would never come. She held on desperately to him. To the love that they shared... but when was enough, enough?

~

You confuse me, Draco Malfoy.

You gave me everything that I could have asked for. Weekends away at the Manor, running around the halls and playing hide and seek like we were five again. A golden feeling that I would always know in my heart. Reading books and practicing spells. Laughing in the front porch light. Watching the lighting bugs. Kissing in cars. Memories of love for twenty lifetimes.

Nights that I knew. Secrets that I knew. Secrets that you knew. You knew all of my scars and I knew all of yours. You cherished my scars and made them whole again. Made them mean something.

But now you’re trying to appease everyone. You’re trying to make everyone happy. Insisting that it’s the right thing to do. A friend to all is a friend to none, my love.

You’re tearing my love apart at the seams, and now I’m bleeding. 

~

Then he left. And she walked away.

~

I thought I knew you. I did know you.

And I still watched you step onto the last train without a kiss goodbye. With tears in my eyes I watched you leave, as I tried to change the ending. For months I tried to change our ending. I’d never expect you to fly away like Peter Pan. I never thought I’d be Wendy. I thought that you were Prince Charming. Because that was who I knew you to be.

But now I know you.

Leaving like your father... running like water.

When you’re young, they assume you know nothing, but I knew you. 

A Draco Malfoy that I never wanted to know.

~

“How is it after years your kiss still lingers on my skin? Why are you of all people haunting me? I should have bigger regrets. I should have different what-ifs. I never knew that you’d hang around this long like the smell of smoke.

I thought I knew everything when I was young. I thought I knew you.

But now I’m chasing your shadows and girls who hold a shade of you. Just to know you again for a moment.”

~

But this time his words weren’t a letter. They weren’t ink on parchment. They were spoken.

She barely dared to look up into his stormy grey eyes. She could still see the gentleness there behind the rough exterior and through the tears. In her front porch light, he stood there, panting softly, willing himself not to cry. She didn’t stop herself from crying.

“I knew you’d come back to me,” She whispered. “Because I know you Draco Malfoy,”

...

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[members-of-the-guild]

 Character Bio and rules are below the line

You can call me Shadow. i’m a 28yo male that hasn’t rped in years. Last time i did was i think 3 maybe 4 years ago so i am plenty rusty. I know this doesn’t say a lot about me but if there’s anything you’d like to know, just ask.

About Karisa

Name: Karisa

Race: Tiefling: A Humanoid people descended from humans who made pacts or crossbred with demons.

Age: 18

Height: 6'3"

Hair color: black

Occupation: Golemancer, Adventurer, occasional Blacksmith

Appearance: As a tiefling, Karisa has several traits that distinguishes her from Humans. She has Lavender colored skin, ice blue eyes, two horns, pointed ears, and a 4 foot long tail.

Personality: When it comes to enemies, Karisa can be downright ruthless. if she hates them bad enough, she will leave an enemy broken but alive to let them try again. She swears a LOT around everyone no matter who they are with the exception of children and has a habit of making enemies through her mannerisms. She’s bad enough with her words that there have been jokes made about weaponizing her lexicon and isn’t afraid to cuss out friends! BUT if you can take her words with a grain of salt and actually befriend her, then no matter what she says to you, she will protect you with her life. In her words, “You may be a cunt, but you’re MY cunt. And no one FUCKS with my cunt!”

Background:

Karisa was born on a small farm and raised by her parents until she reached the age of 8 when they passed away. Since then she would delve into golemancy as a way to cope, keeping her hands busy and moving foreword as best as she can. This is around the time she found the large crystal that would become Grom’s core. At the age of 10, she made her way to the city with her golem Grom, who was wood at the time, to try and become an adventurer. There she met the Dwarf Bormi who gave her a place to stay and taught her in the ways of the blacksmith.

Modern Verse (Hazbin Verse rewrite):

Karisa is Tiefling who was born into an organization known as The Adventurer’s Guild. The purpose of this organization is to deal with supernatural threats to society as a whole by hunting down creatures, artifacts, books, and other things that could pose a danger. If it can’t be recruited, it is to be either destroyed or relocated. People of course know about them but there is a general distrust of the organization due to their habit of employing non-humans and the Guild’s use of magic.

When it comes to the forces of Heaven and Hell, the Guild was able to get their hands on a blueprint for portal technology. The portal they have doesn’t always work and sometimes accesses realms other than Heaven or Hell. This can have a tendency to get adventurers stuck in realms outside of earth.

Skills-

Golemancy: Throughout her life, Karisa has made a variety of golems. These golems can me made from just about any solid material if given enough time. Golems made from metal, stone, wood, and even flesh are within her area of expertise. Her favorite golem is an 8 foot tall minotaur automaton she named Grom.

Cooking: Karisa LOVES to cook. She’s always experimenting with different dishes and creating a few of her own.

Basic Martial Arts: Since she turned 13, Karisa has trained with a quarterstaff and dagger so that if her golems failed, she could still take care of herself.

Magic: In addition to Golemancy, she has a small arsenal of spells at her disposal.

Fire Spells: All Tieflings are capable of fire magic. Fireball, Burning Hands, and Firewall to name a few. Using fire helps her a lot if she has to weld parts together on a golem.

Lightning Spells: Karisa can perform rudimentary lightning spells but this mostly equates to coating her hand in electricity to use. The strength of this can range from the power of a normal stun gun to enough power to jumpstart a city’s electrical grid.

3D Movement: This is a form of wind magic that allows her to “kick” the air. by doing this, Karisa can give off the impression that she is flying. This does not mean she stays in the air, only that she can move in it. she usually only uses this to get over walls or cliffs or maybe to get into a tree.

Empathy Link: This is something she originally learned in order to better deal with golems in order to find out what their orders are. it can be used on other creatures and objects to get a kind of idea of either how they are feeling or how they are used. She MUST make contact with the palm of her hand for this to work.

Golem Creation: As a golemancer, Karisa carries a number of golem cores on her at all times. These cores can often be infused into whatever matter she chooses to create a quick golem in the field. These golems aren’t as effective as one she has time to prepare but they get the job done. Golem cores are also extremely volatile! Damaging a core will cause any magic in it to go haywire and explode in relation to the core’s size. This makes golems and their cores effective bombs if she needs to!

Golem Override: This is a skill that allows Karisa to manually control her golems and see through their eyes. HOWEVER this is only a last resort because it leaves her immobile and defenseless. 

Please send Karisa questions and asks either from yourself or your characters! i will fill this out as i go!

Rules

1: i am all for fight scenes and such but please do not god-mod. meaning do not assume what happens to my character. (EX: “My character fires a gun and hits your character in the shoulder.” or “Your character tried to dodge but my character cuts off their arm before they can.”) In my responses, i’ve taken to rolling a dice to determine whether or not my character gets hit and how badly she gets hit. I do not mind my character dying in a particular thread so long as it is discussed at length beforehand and is necessary for the development of the plot. communication is key for stuff like this.

2: Don’t send hate. I don’t mind criticizing because it helps me reflect on how i’m doing. Hate is just a dick move though.

3: I reserve the right to choose whether or not i rp or answer an ask. There will be times that i don’t have the inspiration or motivation to continue it or there is not enough for me to go on. An example of this would be if i responded to an rp and the response i get back is “Character ducks.” or something as equally short.

4: I don’t mind reminders but i DO mind spamming. I will mostly be rping either on the weekends or some afternoons when i can get up the motivation. DO NOT spam me reminders every day or every other day. I have a 5 month old son and a job that has me working monday to thursday with the occasional friday up to 12 hours a day. Those come first.

5: You will see a lot of stuff on here that i will do my best to tag from gore to n//s//f//w// threads. If there is anything in particular you would like me to tag when it shows up, please let me know! Anything truly spicy will placed uner a read more and tagged as “Read at your own Risk!::NSFPC” (nsfpc stands for not safe for public consumption.

6: While i accept starters, memes, questions and comments through asks, starters and starter memes WILL be turned into a post to start a thread. I will not rp through constant asks because this can lead to more dash clutter than the post will. That being said, i will trim the post before it gets too long and will try to have any appropriate tags on it.

7: THERE WILL BE LOTS AND LOTS OF SWEARING! Enough that i will not be tagging it because it is everywhere! I will not tone down her swearing except around child muses because this is part of her character and i ask that you please understand.

8: When it comes to shipping, Karisa will make things fairly clear on whether or not she wants to be with your character. I love shipping but i also know that not everyone will ship their characters with Karisa and that's perfectly fine! Karisa WILL flirt and get touchy with people she's interested in but if the mun or character they are controlling doesn't want that, TELL HER! Not me. HER. Have your character reject her advances, tell her "no" or even smack the shit out of her if she gets too handsy! I will not be upset and i will completely understand! A lot of people plan ships out and tell others there has to be chemistry, but as I'm thinking about it, im going to be removing that little section from my rules. Why? Because failed ships have the potential to create drama, angst, and even enemies if done properly! If she comes onto a character and it makes you uncomfortable or you're just not interested, EXPRESS IT THROUGH YOUR CHARACTER! The same will apply to her! The only time i will have any sort of problem is if she says no, gets into a fight, and you try to godmod it to your liking or try to guilt ME about it. My character makes up her own mind about how to do things just like yours.

I may add more rules as time goes on but it’s pretty straightforward. Don’t be afraid to come and talk to me! I’m pretty open about things and i would love to see you around! Come and join me on discord for more Mun stuff! Just make sure you edit your name to match your tumblr url so i know who you are please! https://discord.gg/6ftZuSP8XH 

[nellie-elizabeth]

First Line Meme Rules: List the first lines of your last 20 stories (if you have less than 20, just list them all). See if there are any patterns. Choose your favorite opening line, then tag 10 of your favorite authors!

tagged by @lizardkingeliot. Thanks!!! <3

This is going to be fun!

1. The Production of Penny. SPOILERS for A Comet Pulled From Orbit.

For the first several weeks, it’s just impossible to meet her. Penny will feel bad about it later, but he can’t take in any new stimuli when his entire body, mind, soul is shivering in the exposed light, trying to adjust to a reality he’d given up on returning to. He holes himself up with his family in one of his favorite places, a small house in Alaska, of all places, that he’d only just acquired and made comfortable when he’d—when he’d gotten himself trapped somewhere else.

2. The Way a Fool Would Do

You never really know what you’re getting into, when you choose to take a soulmate. Before Quentin had bound himself to Eliot, he’d been forced to endure the normal barrage of questions from the Fillorian Soul Council, and then a separate barrage of questions from his cousin Julia, who had nitpicked his choice down to the marrow, pouring concern after concern into Quentin’s already terrified brain.

He’d been so frustrated with her at the time, but in retrospect he can’t blame her for her caution. The fact is, no matter how much you prepare, no matter how much you think you’ve thought it all through, binding another soul to your own is unlike anything else in the world. It is impossible to know how it will feel until it’s already too late to turn back.

3. The Genesis of Julia

She decides, while watching the 1984 Summer Olympics one lazy day, a magically cool glass of lemonade on the table beside her as she lounges back into their comfiest armchair, to master gymnastics. The decision is made more or less on a whim; this is how Julia decides how to spend a great deal of her infinite life minutes, truthfully. She’s organized and meticulous once she knows her goal, but when it comes to finding said goal, it’s all about what strikes her fancy.

4. The Construction of Kady

The dust took a couple of weeks to settle, after Kady’s abrupt departure from her old life and chaotic intrusion into her new one. She’d been in the middle of war with her own people when she’d died for the first time, and the others had found her desperately attempting to steal magic from a rival hedge group in order to survive, too anxious about her own life to properly mourn for her mother’s death, and certainly too caught up in her own frantic mind to trust any of these new people, much less believe them about their immortality, or her own.

5. The Origins of Alice

There was no way to prepare for something like this. There was simply nothing she could do, nothing she could write down, no refinements she could make, that would help her to be more ready for what the morning would bring.

Alice hated that very much, of course.

6. The Creation of Quentin

The object in question was beautifully rendered, detailed and precise. A burnished color, the cool weight of it reassuringly solid in Q’s hands as he examined it, turning it over and over in his hands. This one wasn’t even particularly old; it looked to be a sixteenth century model, and Q had seen older and more beautiful in his time.

7. The Making of Margo

When Margo first met Alice, she understood her immediately. That wasn’t to say that Alice was boring, or predictable, or that there was nothing Margo had to learn about her. It wasn’t that at all. It was more that in meeting Alice, Margo was able to take one look at her and think to herself: ah, now this I know what to do with.

8. The Explanation of Eliot

El was afraid of heights, but only a little.

He could fly, after all, and that should have made fear illogical. But if anything, his ability to subvert gravity was the very reason for his nerves: he’d never been able to trust himself with anything, much less his own life or the life of others. The few times his telekinetic powers had been called in as a means of escape or rescue, when he’d held an innocent stranger or beloved family member in his arms and floated with them down from the side of a mountain or building or cliff face… well, those were the things he had nightmares about, on the rare occasions when he could remember his dreams. It was that sensation of freefall, of knowing it was magic, something inexplicable, deep in his consciousness, in his soul, even, that was the only thing preventing sharp, painful, deadly impact. He knew himself well enough to know he should never be trusted with something so precious as the life of another.

9. A Comet Pulled From Orbit

Alice Quinn woke up.

This was an unexpected development, considering the events of mere moments ago. Specifically the agonizing thirty seconds she’d spent bleeding out on the carpet, wondering in an abstract sort of way how long it would be before someone thought to look for her and found her mangled corpse tucked into the corner of a Brakebills Library study room, surrounded by the shredded remains of several large magical tomes, and her carefully collated notes.

---

Pausing here for a moment after the first 9 - eight of them are all part of one series. The main story, A Comet Pulled From Orbit, is an Alice POV AU of The Old Guard. Prominent Queliot subplot, some burgeoning Kalice and other ships as well. Lots of found family, etc. The other stories, all the ones with the seven main characters' names in them, are meant to be a series of small snippets to fill out that universe, backwards and forwards. I'm noticing that I do a lot of setup, I don't often start in medias res with any of these, trying to set a tone and get the information started right away. Each of the chapters of the snippet stories could be their own thing, so it's a little weird to consider it the start of a bigger story!!

Okay, moving on to earlier stories.

10. is it too late (or could this love protect me)

This is a story about nothing and everything. It is a story between then and now. It is a story of people living their lives, living them, and living them, and continuing to live them, with only some pedestrian heartbreak and alcoholism and good old millennial economic angst to add some variety to the humdrum of continued existence.

This is a story about stupidity, and love. Stupid love.

(A/N - hmm I kinda hate this beginning now even though I'm SUPER proud of the story as a whole)

11. Maybe This Time

"Quentin Coldwater?" Eliot says, twisting the name up in his mouth like an insult.

Give him a break - it's a weird fucking name, for one thing. And besides, the off-putting demeanor is an intentional scare tactic.

12. Beyond the Veil

"Do you think the Lorians would want a seat at the table?" Fen asked doubtfully, looking over the charter in front of her.

"Well, they're going to want to review the language, at any rate," one of the advisers put in. "Especially the order of the names."

"But it's in alphabetical order!" Margo said. "Fillory comes before Loria - sorry, not sorry."

13. Running All This Time

Quentin was sweet. There were a lot of words that Eliot could think of to describe him, several of them a lot more besotted than he was comfortable with, but sweet was an apt descriptor, generally speaking.

He had the softest little smile, and wide brown eyes that crinkled up in the corners when he was happy. He had strong yet gentle hands, hands that were somehow mesmerizing as he flapped them around wildly during conversation, trying to paint pictures in the air to accompany his latest rant about whatever-the-fuck. His voice was calming, his circular logic compelling, enough so that Eliot found himself listening - really listening - whenever Quentin was talking to him, even if it was about the Plover books and what they suggested about this time period in Fillorian history, or the politics of trade when it came to buying labor from talking animals, or how he may have come up with a better tracking system to mark down the mosaic patterns they'd already tried. Dry, uninteresting stuff, really. Which is what Eliot told Quentin, with an eye-roll, to stop him from getting a big head.

14. To Feel the Same

Quentin finds Eliot sitting alone in the armory, surrounded by books.

Something tense and frantic inside of him unclenches, like it always does around this man. It’s actually a remarkable thing, because by all rights Eliot should make him more nervous, not less. Quentin is a nervous person, after all, and Eliot is so… Eliot . A High King in his blood. Quentin had meant that, when he said it, and had drank in the gratitude in Eliot’s eyes like a glass of pure, crisp water, essential and quenching.

15. Identity Theft

The first thing the man noticed as he came to consciousness was that his head was pounding. It felt like the worst hangover he'd ever had, times about a million, and for several seconds all he could do was lay there and gasp and wait for his eyes to adjust. He appeared to be in a semi-dark room of some sort. It was large, with a cavernous ceiling above him, and the air was drafty. Like a garage maybe, bigger even - a warehouse?

The second thing he noticed was that he wasn't alone in the room. There were shapes all around him, rustling and making confused, pained sounds. After a few moments of this, there was a whoosh of energy and an orb of light floated above his head, illuminating the space in a soft glow. Someone in the room had cast a simple light spell. He looked around and sat up slowly, trying not to jostle his still pounding head. His next observation was that pretty much everyone in the room with him was kind of stupidly attractive.

16. Promises

Quentin gets about thirty seconds alone in his bedroom in the cottage, before Eliot is bursting through the door without knocking. It's not that he wasn't expecting him to take it hard, but seriously - can he not give Quentin just a couple of minutes of peace?

"This isn't happening," Eliot says without preamble, slamming the door shut behind him. "I'm sorry, Q, but it's not."

"I honestly don't think it's your decision to make," Quentin says, running a tired hand over his face.

17. The Curse of the Broken Vase (aka The One Where They Get Married and Nothing Goes Wrong)

Quentin was pacing.

He was pacing, and he was tugging his hands through his hair, which he really shouldn't be doing because it had actually taken a hairdresser an annoying amount of time to brush it out and tie it back, and apparently it was perfect now, even though Quentin couldn't really see how it was different from his normal lazy bun, but whatever.

There would be people, Eliot included, who would be annoyed with him for messing up his hair.

18. Liquid Courage

Eliot was fidgeting. Which was unusual, and generally not a good sign. But it still wasn't much of a warning, Quentin had thought to himself later, given what was about to happen. Then again, Eliot had been acting strangely all week, a little distant and distracted, and Quentin had known his partner was working up to discuss something with him.

Quentin had been worried, of course, but in an abstract sort of way. He figured whatever it was, the two of them were more than equal to the challenge. Given everything they'd been through over the entire course of their relationship, he really couldn't imagine any piece of news that would be capable of obliterating their lives.

19. Reciprocal

The thing about Quentin Coldwater was that it was pretty much impossible not to love him. Honestly, it wasn't even Eliot's fault - how was he expected to spend every second of every day around such a beautiful, adorable, kind person without letting it get to him? And the sex. Well. That was fucking incendiary, which really wasn't helping his resolve in the love department.

20. Fragments

It was a perfectly normal morning in Fillory. Which, honestly, should have been Quentin's first warning that things were about to go very, very wrong. Fillory was many things, but normal was not one of them: Q had gotten used to being woken up by harried castle employees, alerting him to one catastrophe or another. The Serpent War had ended months ago, but the paperwork was still pouring in like it had never stopped. His official role in the government wasn't supposed to have anything to do with the war efforts, but it had been an all-hands-on-deck situation for the last year or so.

---

Oh my goodness, this took me back to almost my first story in this fandom! I have 22 Magicians fics posted, so that's almost all of them...

I think my favorite of all of these is Maybe This Time, just because I like starting off with such an iconic moment from canon. It's the kind of fic that I hope resonates with people differently upon a re-read, and I like the strong, instantly recognizable hook. You read that first line and you know where you are, but you have no real idea where the story is about to take you.

I've also had a lot of fun writing Julia in the Comet 'verse and I like her opening line to the first snippet I did for her!

---

I'll tag @hmgfanfic, @ameliajessica, @hoko-onchi-writes, @freneticfloetry, @honeybabydichotomy, @allegria23, @spiders-hth-is-an-outlier, @rubickk7, @portraitofemmy, @propinquitous, and all others who want to!!

[dokidokivisual]

Gochiusa BLOOM episode 5 impressions

Previously: 4 - 3 - 2 - 1

Welcome to another installment of my Gochiusa BLOOM episode reviews. At the end of last episode Cocoa finds out about Chino’s intention to go to her school, so this episode opens with some sort of ceremony to celebrate this fact. Despite a reference to alcohol, this ceremony might seem innocent, but it actually has a dark connotation...

First off, Cocoa is asking if everyone is holding a sakazuki. Sakazuki is a special traditional sake cup, which was apparently so important that it even has its own kanji  盃. A real sakazuki is actually more like a saucer than a cup, and holds very little alcohol. The girls are holding regular coffee cups, while pretending they are sakazuki. But what is the importance of sakazuki here?

The hint comes from Chiya’s description of the ceremony: 義兄弟の盃 (gikyodai no sakazuki) which literally translates as “sake cup of sworn brothers”, though kyodai can be used for siblings of any gender. The origin of this type of ceremony lies in Chinese 14th century novel Romance of Three Kingdoms, where the so-called Oath of the Peach Garden has transpired between three major characters. However in modern times, this type of brotherhood ceremony is mainly used by organized crime syndicates known as yakuza. So what you’re supposed to be seeing in this scene is literally Chino being initiated into a gang. If you’re interested, here’s a video of gikyodai sakazuki ceremony of Yamaguchi-gumi, the largest yakuza organization.

The ceremony is interrupted by Aoyama Blue Mountain who somehow got behind the counter. Soon, Mate Rin comes in looking for her, but she’s already gone. Before this point I didn’t know yet what the part B of the episode will be about, but this intro definitely provides a hint about it. Rin also gives a business card to Chiya, but it’s a bit difficult to read. Thankfully, there’s a better shot of it later in the episode.

Cocoa remembers there’s a marathon tournament, and Chiya is horrified when she learns that it involves running. However Cocoa persuades her that as Chino’s recently sworn older sister and senior she should run the whole distance.

Chiya’s motivation for participation in marathon was changed compared to the manga, the chapter in question (vol.5 ch.7) opens with Cocoa and Chiya doing exercises during PE class (a scene sadly cut out from the anime) and has to deal with Chiya and Cocoa’s friendship bond. This is why Chiya wants to finish the race with Cocoa so badly.

Chiya starts training by herself to get ready for the marathon. The location where she trains (some sort of clearing being overlooked by a bridge) is quite interesting, as it also appears in season 1 episode 5 (where Cocoa and Chiya practice volleyball) and Sing For You OVA where Chino uses the same tire excercise as part of her special training.

Ironically Rize thinks one tire is “too far” for Chiya, but 5 tires is ok for Chino who was supposed to train her singing. Anyway it’s quite interesting how some locations in town stay consistent, I wonder if the staff has a detailed map of them.

Despite having muscle pain from training, Chiya shows her resolve to finish the race to Cocoa. In this speech she mentions the Whirlwind (旋風) from the title of the episode (”On that day I will make Ama Usa An whirlwind blow”). Interestingly, the title of this manga chapter 千の夜を走る風となる (”run 1000 nights to become the wind”) also mentions the wind.

Cocoa also wants to train, and justifies her ability to wake up early with a helpful diagram (which looks as if she’s born directly from bread). To be fair, her justification that bakers wake up early does make sense, and she didn’t seem to have a problem to wake up in time in Dear My Sister. However when staying in Rabbit House, she definitely tends to oversleep, which happened this time too.

Rize and Chiya start training without her, and start playing shiritori to keep Chiya’s spirit up. Honestly this game appears in pretty much every anime ever, so should I even bother to explain the rules? Anyway, Rize names sweets that she supposedly overate, while Chiya names stuff that would be normally served at Ama Usa. However after saying いちご大福 (strawberry rice cake) she continues even though it’s Rize’s turn, saying 黒豆寒天 (black soybean jelly). This ends in “ん” (n) which is a losing turn in shiritori, since no Japanese words start with ん. Nevertheless, Chiya continues listing off Ama Usa desserts and eventually just switches to advertisement mode. Rize compares her to senden car which is a decorated truck that you can find driving around Japanese cities while blasting advertisements really loudly.

Rize introduces her stamp card here (which is an upgrade over her previous motivation techniques, such as the schedule in Dear My Sister), which gives Chiya an idea for an Ama Usa An stamp card. The reward for completing it is 90 minutes of all-you-can-drink piping hot oshiruko, which is a kind of soup made from red beans. The fact that it’s very hot was for some reason omitted from the official English subs, even though that’s what makes the deal especially ridiculous.

Cocoa still wants to train, so she asks Sharo to run with her. However when the morning comes she still can’t wake up on time. When Sharo talks about Chiya taking up jogging there is a montage of Chiya training with Rize, but at this moment Sharo doesn’t know that Chiya trains with Rize, which is why she gets jealous when it is revealed later.

Sharo’s orange phone with the dangling teacup charm was previously seen for example in season 2 episode 7. The exact model is “Kyocera Honey Bee 201K” and as you can see it’s accurately drawn down to the small details.

This is another repeatedly used Gochiusa outdoors location, seen for example in season 1 episode 6 when Cocoa and Tippy meet Aoyama, and in season 2 OP in the shot with Tippy, Anko and Wildgeese. This is where Rize wants to persuade Chiya to continue training, but Chiya isn’t having it. In the manga this is where Rize pulls out her stamp card (almost filled out) to persuade her, but in anime version we never see how many stamps she acquired.

The marathon starts and we see some of Cocoa’s classmates from the previous episode running by. As expected, Cocoa ended up being less fit than Chiya and had to hold on to Chiya’s twintails to keep up. The manga doesn’t actually show them finishing the race, so watching whether Chiya would be able to cross the finish line was quite suspenseful.

After the race, Sharo is disappointed at being left out, but Rize invites her for special training right away. Rize seems to be interested in some triathlon competition and tried to invite Chiya earlier, but Chiya was scared off by the mere name “triathlon”. A triathlon competition features running, cycling and swimming. Sharo is actually better than Rize at swimming (see season 1 episode 8) and perhaps Cocoa is the best at cycling.

We never see how these two trained, but in the manga there’s an additional illustration at page 65 of volume 5 which shows how it may looked like.

Now the “carefree breeze” part of the episode starts, and it’s based on volume 6 chapter 3, making it the first chapter from volume 6 to be animated. Even though there are 9 chapters between part A and part B of this episode, in retrospect it makes a lot of sense that they were put together. For one, they feature a lot of running. And there are a lot of outdoor locations. Such as the park where Cocoa and Chiya meet off-duty Aoyama.

You might recognize it as the same park where Cocoa meets Aoyama for the first time in season 1 episode 6. In season 2 episode 8, Cocoa and Chiya also walk through this park when returning from school. 

Cocoa and Chiya think Aoyama is going on a date (this is more explicit in the manga) but it seems she doesn’t have anything to do and just dressed up nicely for the sake of it.

She wants to play tag, which in Japanese is called oni-gokko and oni (a demon) is the one who’s chasing the other players. The role of the demon is relegated to Mate Rin who comes to Rabbit House for the second time this episode to search for Aoyama. This time we get a better look at her business card.

The name of the publisher is Seironsha (生論社 - the first kanji is not visible here, but is visible in the manga). Usually publishing companies in Kirara series are parodies of Houbunsha but not this time. I couldn’t find the reason behind this name anywhere. There’s a word “Seiron” which means “sound reasoning” but it’s spelled with different kanji (正論). There’s also a publisher Rironsha (理論社) although it seems pretty obscure. Also a fun fact: Aoyama’s book Bakery Queen (seen in Dear My Sister OVA) had a different publisher 走兎舎 (”Soutosha”?) which means “running rabbit house”.

Rize, Chino and Rin form Shin-furimawasare-tai (“the new at-their-mercy corps”) which is a reference to season 2 episode 8, as well as a few character songs recorded by Rize, Chino and Sharo as Furimawasare-tai. It seems that Sharo is sidelined a lot in this episode...

Next there’s a montage of them unsuccessfully chasing Chiya, Cocoa and Aoyama, which shows off various locations in town. They are not necessarily just random spots. For example the stairs with the statue and the fountain are actually right next to each other, as can be seen in Dear My Sister.

Then they spot Aoyama riding a gondola (a somewhat fancier one than in the beginning of episode 3) and Tippy falls off Chino’s head. Which doesn’t happen nearly as often as you’d think it would. Last time (season 2 episode 6) it also involved boats...

Cocoa, Chiya and Aoyama make a pact to be caught together, but it falls apart rather quickly, as Cocoa gets lured by Chino. The scene of Cocoa being captured was quite expanded compared to the manga, with Chiya and Aoyama trying to discourage Cocoa from falling into the obvious trap, and then lamenting her “passing”. 

Despite the earlier pact to be caught at once, Aoyama and Chiya split up and Rize ends up chasing Chiya. This is where the marathon chapter is referenced, as the teacher ends up chasing the student. Chiya was able to keep up for a while, but hits the dead-end and surrenders to Rize.

Meanwhile Cocoa, Chino and Rin go to some sort of fair, where Sharo finally appears, performing as Phantom Thief Lapin. Rin, being a fan of Lapin comes closer and discovers Aoyama already sitting there, who seems to like Sharo a bit too much... 

I also wonder where did Tippy come from, because it didn’t seem like Aoyama carried him while running away earlier. Next we see the infamous rabbit carousel, which looks even weirder when CGI animated.

It’s evening now, but if you look back at Rize chasing Chiya scene it’s clear that the sun is already beginning to set by then, and the sky becomes darker in the Lapin scene. There are all sorts of colorful lights in the background, which creates a proper fairgrounds atmosphere.

The lighting gets even more fairytale-like as everyone gets on the carousel, with bokeh effect being created by all the lights at the fair. Interestingly, the word “bokeh” comes from Japanese where it means “blur”. This entire scene looks quite amazing with CGI and special effects blending in with 2d animation very well. I bet it used up more budget than the rest of the episode, but it was worth it.

One of the interesting shots here was this one, with Chiya riding alone and looking pensively at Rize and Sharo, which made me feel bad for her. At least in the manga version, Chiya was riding with Rin so she didn’t look as lonely.

Aoyama and Rin are reminiscing about their past, and there’s a flashback of Aoyama in high-school uniform thanking Master (Chino’s grandfather) for lending her a fountain pen (a callback to season 1 episode 9 where she loses this pen). Unbeknownst to her, Master is sitting right in her lap, as Tippy. Maybe if Aoyama kept track of when she hears Master’s voice and Tippy is around, she’d have figured it out by now...

Anyway, that was another great episode of Gochiusa BLOOM, and check in next week for my review of the next episode which is coming out this Saturday. Seems like it will have more rabbits than usual...

[buckyreaderrecs]

Bucky Barnes and the Girl With Too Much Power: Chapter 4/?

Summary:  Nobody knows about your power. You’ve never really wanted to use it, let alone hurt someone with it. But, someone has figured you out, and now they’re following you. There’s only one place you can go for help - The Avengers. Good news is they’re good people. Bad news is your power is entirely relevant to soft, sad, recovering, broody Bucky Barnes. Chapter 1. Chapter 2. Chapter 3. 

Chapter 4: You have to leave behind the life you knew. 

Pairing: Bucky Barnes/Reader Characters: Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers, Natasha Romanov, Sam Wilson, Tony Stark, Wanda Maximoff, Peter Parker Additional tags: Bucky needs a hug, recovering Bucky, mostly canon compliant (Infinity War and Endgame didn’t happen, Stark Tower still exists), angst, possible future smut (who knows, not me), mutual pining, reader has powers / enhanced!reader, she/her pronouns, more tags/characters to be added with future chapters

Notes: I haven’t updated this fic in months and monthssss. Let me know if there are any continuity errors, and if this is still a fic worth me plugging away at. Thank you for any and all support! xo Rhi

Bucky Barnes and the Girl With Too Much Power Chapter 4/?

There was nothing comforting about having Stark-employed agents tailing you. Logically you knew that besides maybe a well-placed and patient sniper, nobody would be able to get close enough to hurt you. Not with spiders and witches and falcons watching over you. Certainly not with the last remaining Howling Commandos on your side.

Although you couldn't see him, even when you tried to covertly spot him, you could feel Bucky. You could feel him watching you and you knew it was him because it wasn't like before. It didn't make you feel sick with dread.

All of that was probably in your head though.

More tangible aspects of the situation were the beads of sweat rolling down your spine and pooling in the small of your back. Very real was the awkward pace you were keeping - definitely faster than a casual walk but a solid attempt to appear calm and normal.

It had been decided that you would walk the entire way home. It was doable, but you'd usually catch the bus. The people who wanted you would have to see the future to know when and where you'd catch a bus, but that wasn't outside the realm of possibility. Not anymore. So, you walked for 40 minutes.

…

Unless he wanted you to see him, Bucky Barnes was invisible. He'd always been good at camouflage, but programming by Hydra included 'how to disappear 101.' And under your power, it was like that again. Not a single soul saw Bucky as he followed you block by block. There wasn't even a gust of wind left in his wake to alert people that someone… something, had gone by.

Entirely focussed and keen eyed, Bucky watched your strange gait. If there was no power clouding his mind, he would have smirked a little; even Hydra couldn't take the sass out of him.

After he climbed through an unlocked bedroom window and landed on the floor behind you, Bucky stood up straight at attention. You were on your hands and knees, pulling things out of the bottom of a closet. There was a duffle bag in there somewhere, you were sure.

"Yes!" you whispered to yourself, standing and spinning around. The yelp that escaped your mouth sounded through Bucky's earpiece to the other Avengers situated in, on, and around your apartment building.

"Buck?" Steve asked, muscles already poised to move.

"Package is safe," Bucky replied, no emotion in his voice. The lack of it went unnoticed by Peter Parker - who was still too new and in awe to know Bucky beyond reputation and limited interaction. He didn't mean to, but Bucky had avoided Peter; he reminded him too much of pre-serum Steve. However, Wanda, Sam, and Steve all heard the tone, and all frowned to themselves from their respective positions. Nobody did anything though.

"You scared me," you said as soon as you yelped. When he didn't move, speak, or even shrug it off, you were reminded of your spell. A small, sad, "Oh," was uttered. "Stop. You can stop your… mission," you ordered him.

It didn't work. Maybe it wasn't specific enough. Without a lot of practice, you really weren't good at using your power when you actually needed to. You realised that you shouldn't have given Bucky a complex and prolonged order in the elevator.

"Ah… Relax. Be yourself…?" you tried. Bucky's blue eyes simply remained fixed on you and he went to speak, but you cut him off. "Oh! Ignore my previous order. Do not… feel compelled… to… Fuck. What did I tell you to do?"

"Make sure I get to my house safely. Help me get what I need, and bring me back here," Bucky said, repeating your command word-for-word. It was unnerving.

"Yeah… Don't… Don't do that. Unless you want to. Only do that if you want to."

When his posture gave (by only the slightest amount), you breathed out. It had worked, but you weren't sure exactly which part.

"Bucky?" you asked gently. Bucky smiled and it felt like rain in a drought. "You okay?"

He nodded, being much more used to giving non-verbal responses. Sam's voice was in his head though, encouraging him to speak, pushing his recovery forward faster than Steve's love alone could do. "Yeah, I'm fine…"

You could hear it in his slow drawl- that slight cognitive lag people sometimes experienced after your power left their minds and they were free again.

"I'm sorry,"

"No, darling', you don't have to keep saying that. It's alright,"

"But-"

"Please," he interrupted. He shook his head slightly, but it was enough for you to see he didn't want to talk about it. "You did good,"

"I just… walked," you replied.

"Yeah, but that isn't easy when you think someone's about to kill ya,"

"Wow. Reassuring. Thanks," you said sarcastically, moving around him to put the bag on the bed.

Bucky chuckled, then sat down next to the bag.

"Aren't you gonna, like, check the cupboards and stuff?"

He raised an eyebrow. "Christ, how unprofessional do you think we are?" From the dresser you were digging through, you looked over at him and shrugged in confusion. "Stark had people in here as soon as he figured out where here was,"

"Guessing that was pretty quick?"

"Yep," Bucky replied, popping the P sound purposefully.

"So, random people have been going through my stuff?" Looking around, nothing seemed out of place. It was unnerving, actually.

"Not random. People Stark trusts,"

"Do you trust them?"

But he hesitated and he saw that you'd seen. He couldn't but smile a little. "I don't not trust them."

Thinking for a couple seconds, you decided on, "Probably fair…"

Bucky nodded, and you continued to pack. He decided it wasn't worth telling you that in the very early hours of the morning, after the city was asleep and just before the sun woke up, he'd gone to your apartment too. Clues in the cupboards. Secrets under the seats. Anything really. Steve had been awake when Bucky slipped out. He'd thought maybe Bucky was checking for Hydra. Or possibly, Steve hoped, his best friend was driven by the fact that you looked a lot like a couple of the girls Bucky had charmed before the war meant anything to them.

Bucky followed you as you went room by room, filling the duffle, then a backpack, then an empty shopping bag.

"You planning on never coming back here?" he asked, mostly joking. When you stopped, moving like a deer in the headlights, Bucky realised. "Oh…"

"Am I? Am I coming back?" you asked, on the cusp of hopeful. The glimmer of it in your eyes killed Bucky.

"I don't know," he answered, voice a little too soft to be comforting.

Looking around your apartment, you tried to look brave. "I guess… it doesn't really matter. Hadn't really built much of a life anyway,"

"Of course it matters, Y/N."

Before you could say anything else, there was a loud knock on your door, followed by the shrill voice of your neighbour. "Y/N?! Did I just hear ya come home?! Where've ya been?!"

You and Bucky turned to each other at the same time, both expecting the other to do something.

"She's not gonna go away," you whispered.

"Make her," Bucky said.

"I don't want to use-"

"No," Bucky interrupted. "Just talk to her…" His tone implied the 'obviously.'

As soon as you swung the door open, Barb went to step in.

"Ah, sorry, Barb. Bit of a mess in here… Did you need… something?" you said, stopping her.

She eyed you suspiciously, tried to look past you. "You didn't come home last night,"

"Stayed at a friend's,"

"That's lovely… Which friend? That nice Lisa girl?"

"No, um, new friend. James."

Bucky almost laughed.

"A boy? I didn't realise you were dating." She emphasised the last word like it was taboo.

Normally, you'd be better at dealing with Barb; she meant well, but was incredibly nosey. Normally, you didn't answer all her rapid-fire questions immediately, but you were nervous.

"It's not like that. He's just a friend,"

"That you spent the night with,"

"Barb, it's 2020. We can be friends with guys now,"

"So defensive, Y/N! Must really like him," she said with a knowing smile.

"I'm just on my way out, actually,"

"Such a social butterfly all of a sudden. I was just coming over to see if you're alright,"

"I'm alright. And I appreciate it. I really do. I'm just… a bit busy right now,"

"Alright, alright," Barb said, holding her hands up in surrender. "I know when I'm not welcome-"

"No, Barb, it's not-"

"No, no, it's fine." She took a step backwards.

"Barb-"

"When will you be home then?"

Fuck.

You tried to look over your shoulder into your apartment as casually as possible. Glancing at Bucky, all he could offer was a shrug. You realised then that you would have to lie, really lie.

"Actually… Might be gone for a while. Got family upstate that need me."

Barb was quiet for a second, searching through everything she knew about you. "I hope everyone's alright," she settled on. She wanted to say that she didn't know you had family upstate… or any family at all, for that matter.

You'd lived in the apartment complex for five or so years. Barb had always looked out for you, especially since her kid went off to college. She'd met a couple of your friends, heard about work, but never once had you spoken about family. Barb hadn't pressed, although she very much wanted to. Something inside her was keeping her from doing so.

"Yeah, yep… They will be," you replied, nodding.

"Okay… Well, you'll have to come over for tea when you get back?"

"I will. Thanks, Barb."

She left.

Bucky watched you close the door, lock it out of habit.

Your eyes were full of tears. "I can't come back here," you whispered to him. "If someone is after me, I can't bring them here,"

"They probably already know where 'here' is," Bucky replied, almost immediately knowing it was the wrong thing to say. "But," he quickly added. "If they were gonna do anything, they'd done that already."

Bucky didn't believe that to be true at all. More likely, the people following you, upon discovering your sudden disappearance, would try to draw you out. If they knew Barb was a friend - it could make her a target.

You watched Bucky's expression. You read the lie. You didn't need to force the truth out though. You let the fact that he was trying to reassure you, reassure you.

"We'll keep surveillance here."

You nodded, moved slowly to continue packing.

Bucky stayed quiet, watched, tried to remember all the details of your apartment. Maybe they'd come in useful at some point.

"Okay, I'm ready," you announced.

"There's a car downstairs waiting for you," Bucky said.

"You're not coming?"

"I'll go out the way I came," he answered. When you didn't move, he added, "You'll be okay… Steve and everyone… they'll look after you." He wasn't lying that time. "Go."

Slinging bags over your shoulder, you nodded and left Bucky Barnes in the apartment you would never return to.

What would happen to the rest of your stuff? Would Stark pay for a storage unit? Pay your rent? What about work?

By the time you got to the car, you were again, on the verge of tears.

Upstairs, from a window of your apartment, Bucky watched you leave. He made a note to tell someone to teach you not to get into cars without checking if it was safe first. You hadn't even asked to see the driver's ID.

"She's aboard," Bucky relayed into coms.

"Copy that," Steve's voice came back. "Buck?"

Bucky was in his head.

For longer than Steve liked.

Chapter 5 is coming soon...

Tag list for this fic (open): @animegirlgeeky @brighteyedmichelle @howthehellisbucky @bitterstar88 @thatweirdwalangpake

Tag list for all my work (open): @bubbabarnes @browngirlmagic @lookalivefrosty @aynaraxas @vibraniumwitch @the--sad--hatter @fairislesheets - still won’t let me tag you?

[s-and-n-writes]

contingency plan 7c

scarred, broken, and mended: part two

summary:

She felt the weight of the ring on the string around her neck and could feel her scars.

No, she thought, not wanting to get lost in the memories, not now. I can do this later. So she plastered on a smile, tied an apron, and started frosting some cupcakes.

That night, she allowed herself to feel, and cried herself to sleep, plagued by nightmares of black leather and a feral grin.

pairing: jason todd x marinette dupain cheng, red hood x ladybug, red hood x multimouse

quick links:

< previous chapter | first chapter | next chapter >

| miraculous masterlist | series masterlist |

inspired by: 

scars, freckles and names, and gotham mouse, paris bug, both by @izzybellepenguin​

warnings:

trigger warnings, abuse, mentions of abuse, angst, evil! adrien

a/n:  i finally got it out! yay! sorry it's so late. i would have posted this earlier but n took forever to beta read it. this was completely unplanned and i wrote it while i should have been doing my homework but eh and i finished it during school and i can't even im so happy i actually did it. enjoy.

The next day, school proceeded as normal. Legs stuck out to trip her, her classmates whispered mean words everywhere she went, and people glared whenever Lila spewed some sob story. The only difference was that Marinette had to stay after school to talk to the art teacher, and he didn’t tolerate bullying. At all.

From the corner of her eye, she saw Lila and Alya walking out of school, so she knew it was safe.

After her school business was done, she walked home. At this time, the bakery shouldn’t have been too crowded. As she got closer, she saw some figures through the glass. It was...Lila and Alya? And her parents? What were they doing there? She was in front of the door and all she could make out were fragments of words, but nothing that would make sense. And sobbing. Loud sobbing. Marinette gingerly pushed the door open, wincing at the bell announcing her entrance. All four figures in the store turned to look at the newcomer.

Looking at the people, Marinette made out a few key things. One, Lila was crying. Two, her Maman looked pissed. Three, her Papa’s fists were clenched. And four, Alya wore an expression so deadly, it would make a grown man cry, thank god Marinette was used to that.

“Um...what’s going on?” Marinette asked, confused as to why Lila had come into her bakery.

“This girl here has been telling us some... interesting ...things,” her Maman replied, with a deadly undertone, “She’s been saying that you have been bullying her.”

Marinette was worried. The way her Maman had phrased her question, Marinette didn’t know if she believed her or not. Her parents would believe her, though. They wouldn’t believe the words of a random girl over their own daughter. Right?

“I-I didn’t Maman, I-” Just in case, Marinette started defending herself, but her Papa cut her off.

“Marinette,” he said furiously, yet calmly, “How dare you bully someone for a reason as small as jealousy. I thought I raised you better than that.”

Her heart broke. Her Maman and Papa, the two people who were supposed to care for her, no matter what , blamed her for something she didn’t even do. Marinette could feel the burning behind her eyes, and a few tears slipped out before she could stop them.

“B-but, I didn’t, I swear-” she was cut off yet again.

“Get out,” her Maman said. The bakery was silent and Marinette looked at her Maman, Sabine, wide-eyed, not believing this was happening, that she was being kicked out.

“You have 1 hour to pack your things and get the hell out of here ,” Sabine said sternly, and Marinette swore she could feel her heart shatter. She walked towards the stairs, and as she snuck a look behind her, there was a tiny smirk on Lila’s face. Barely noticeable, but definitely there.

Lila had won. Her friends and family were turned against her and she had nowhere to go. This wasn’t even reversible. Thankfully, Marinette had planned meticulously for every possibility, so even though her heart had told her not to, she had a plan for what to do in case of not having a home anymore. Granted, it was in case the bakery burned down or her parents died, but it was still applicable in this scenario.

Taking a breath, she began Contingency Plan 7C. Marinette quickly packed up her stuff, Tikki and Plagg looking at her in sadness. Throughout the entire ordeal, they had been at her side, comforting as best they could without being found out.

“You’re really leaving, Pigtails?” Plagg asked.

“I have to. Besides, it’s a perfect place to hide,” Marinette reassured the kwami, who was still a bit skeptical. Tikki knew better than to try and change Marinette’s mind in a situation like this.

25 minutes later, her time was almost up and everything that could be packed was packed, including the Miracle Box. She had taken out the Horse Miraculous and put them on, freeing Kaalki. Sadly, she had to leave her sewing machine and mannequin, but everything else fit neatly into her bags with the help of an extension spell she picked up in the Grimoire. It was the same kind of magic that made her yoyo able to hold anything. The rest vanished with another quick spell. Afterward, it looked like she had never lived there. It was crucial that nothing was left.

She had prepared a special program imbued with a bit of magic, and so with just a click of a button, everything about Marinette Dupain-Cheng, from public records to her school information, was erased. All necessary documents were forged (magic is useful) and she was now legally emancipated. She had already graduated early and money was accounted for. Her business as MAT had provided her with more than enough to live by herself, and she had already bought an apartment in her new city. She was going to live there after she moved out anyway, but this just sped up the process. Basically, everything was ready for her to move. Now all she had to do was leave.

Walking downstairs with a big bag was a bit of a pain, but it had to be done. Her parents would be suspicious if she just teleported since, to them, it would look like she just disappeared.

Marinette breezed by them without so much as a glance. Her peripheral told her Alya and Lila were gone. Ignoring them didn’t remove the hole in her heart, though, and she was reminded of Adrien, of someone who was supposed to help and support her and instead destroyed her.

With every step she took, the ring gently bounced against her chest, a permanent reminder of his betrayal and her subsequent injuries.

Speaking of Ladybug, Marinette had already prepared for that. Hawkmoth had been defeated, Chat Noir had been permanently removed, Master Fu had named her as Guardian, and there was no need for Ladybug anymore. She was free to leave, so a part of that program included a video uploaded to the new (accurate and credible) Ladybug website: BugOut.com. The video told Paris she was stopping being Ladybug for good, but if absolutely necessary, she would come back. Chat Noir was never coming back, though.

“Goodbye Sabine, Tom. I would say it was a pleasure, but it really wasn’t,” Marinette said her final words before exiting the bakery, the chiming of a bell marking the end of the life of one Marinette Dupain-Cheng. Right now, she was nobody, but as soon as she got to her new home, she would take her new identity: Marie Gina Lenoir, Gothamite.

quick links: < previous chapter | first chapter | next chapter >

a/n: so comment if you enjoyed or even if you didn't. i love to interact with you guys. ask questions if you want and I'll answer them as long as it's not too personal. read my other fics (and if you have time i guess you can read n's too). i have two other fics i'm working on at the moment and both are mcu (one is an mlb crossover) so look out for those. <3

tagging: 

here’s the taglist again! if you are currently part of the taglist and don’t want to be part of the taglist, sorry about that! shoot us message and we’ll remove your tag, no offense taken. if you want to be part of the taglist, send us an ask/message and we’ll add your name! 

@charme-de-malchan​ @aveline-rose​ @bookblokeanoid​ 

[ahgastae]

phantasm (pt.1) – namjoon x reader

➥ word count: 1.6k | fluff

➥ m.list

➥ a/n: this is a wip i’ve been saving for a while lol. it’s *technically* a rewrite of an extremely old one-shot i had that didn’t quite turn out how i wanted it so here we are!! i’m thinking of making it a series that i kinda just update whenever i feel like/have time to work on it but idk. feedback is always appreciated, and thanks for reading! ♡

An aggravated sigh leaves your lips, giving up on yet another failed attempt to force the basement door open. The metal handle remains stuck no matter what you do or how hard you push, and at this point you’re starting to run out of ideas. 

Part of you wonders how you managed to get yourself into this situation; locked in the basement of some musty, old abandoned hospital. It’s not exactly everyday people willingly wander into places like this, and you would normally be one of the ones who stayed as far away as fucking possible.

So what changed? What made you take the risk? And how the hell are you going to get yourself out of this?

“Why in the hell would I ever want to do that?” You quirk a brow at your best friend, popping another fry into your mouth as you do. “Actually, scratch that, why the hell would you ever agree to that?” 

The unamused look on Hoseok’s face makes you want to laugh, but you cover it up with another sip of your chocolate shake.

“Because,” Hoseok grumbles with a roll of his eyes, “those little shits can be very persuasive when they want to be. I didn’t want to be the only one in the group who didn’t go, you know?”

You nod your head understandingly, “So you didn’t want to be the one to pussy out.”

“Y/N!”

You burst into a fit of laughter, barely dodging the onion ring he throws your way. Hoseok rolls his eyes again, and the furrow in his brow makes you realize he’s a lot more serious about this than you first thought.

“Okay, okay.” By the time you manage to contain yourself, his scowl has softened slightly. “But if all the guys are going, why do you want me to go so badly?”

Hoseok scoffs, “Uh, are you kidding? That place is going to be creepy as all hell, and I need my best friend there to provide some serious emotional support. And to keep Jungkook from posting videos of me freaking out on Twitter again.”

You both cringe, clearly remembering the last time he got sucked into one of these “adventurous” outings. Jungkook got the silent treatment for a solid three weeks because that clip of Hoseok screaming at a pigeon went viral. The kid still apologizes to this day, but you have a sneaking suspicion he’s behind some of the (admittedly hilarious) edits that have cropped up.

It makes sense for that reason alone as to why Hoseok would want you to tag along, but you’re honestly just as much of a scaredy cat as he is. You’re a lot better at keeping it under wraps, though, always coming up with some excuse for why you can’t go exploring whatever creepy abandoned place his friends want to check out next. But Hoseok has never been the one to ask until now, and you’re more than a little conflicted about it.

“I don’t know, Hobi,” You sigh, glancing down at your half eaten burger. “This has always kinda been your guys’ thing, you know? I’m not really into any of that.”

“Honestly, most of us aren’t, either,” Hoseok shrugs. “The only ones who really like it are Tae, Yoongi, and Kook. The rest of us are kinda just along for the ride.”

“You mean the ride through every possibly haunted, definitely dangerous place in the area.”

“Yeah…”

A small silence falls in between you, and you briefly wonder how in the hell he ever thought this was meant to convince you. Sure, he took you out to lunch, said you could get as many milkshake refills as you desired, put on those heart wrenching puppy dog eyes that you always have to struggle to ignore. But is it really worth getting the shit scared out of you with him and his six friends? One of whom might “accidentally” post a video of you losing your mind over something stupid?

You aren’t ready to become a Twitter meme!

With that terrifying thought, your mind is finally made up. You’re just about to open your mouth and tell Hoseok you just absolutely cannot–

“Joonreallywantedtoknowifyouweregoingtocome!”

The words leave his mouth in a jumbled mess, but you make them out clear as day. You should’ve known that’s the game he was playing. There’s no way Jung Hoseok would come to you with a request like this without having some kind of backup plan. And, unfortunately, his role as your best friend means he knows all about your little crush on the de facto leader of his friend group. You just never thought he’d be so prepared to openly exploit it.

“So what do you say?” Hoseok bites his lip from across the table, and you have a sneaking suspicion he already knows what your answer is going to be.

“...Fine. I’ll go on your stupid ghost trip,” You grumble, a bright smile appearing on Hoseok’s face as he starts to thank you rapidly. “But I’ll break that kid’s phone if he so much as tries to record me!”

Your threat falls on deaf ears, Hoseok already whipping out his phone to presumably tell the other guys. Part of you wants to be mad that you let yourself get played so easily, but does it really count if you knew that’s what he was trying to do?

Eh, whatever. At least he’s happy. And who knows? Maybe you’ll actually end up enjoying yourself after all.

So that was a fucking lie.

You haven’t even been out of the car for five minutes, and you’re already starting to regret leaving your apartment this afternoon. Hoseok said you guys were going to check out some old hospital on the outskirts of town when he picked you up, but you had no idea he meant this far out.

The woods surrounding the “hospital” aren’t particularly thick, but it’s just enough to where you know it’ll terrify the shit out of you when the sun starts to go down. You’re honestly not sure if you’d rather be stuck out here or in the creepy ass building in front of you when that happens. But, if all the guys currently standing around Taehyung’s truck are anything to go by, that decision might be made a lot sooner than you think.

 “Y/N!” One of them suddenly calls, breaking you out of your thoughts. “Stop being a weenie and get your ass over here!”

Rolling your eyes, you push yourself off from your spot leaning against Hoseok’s car and make your way over to the truck bed. The three younger ones are huddled around some sheets of paper in the bed while Jin and Hoseok fiddle with some flashlights and batteries near the open passenger seat. You head over to Hoseok first, curious about the two missing from your party. 

“Hey, where are Joon and Yoongi? I thought you said everyone was coming.”

“Don’t worry, they’ll be here,” Hoseok laughs. “Joonie just had to finish up some stuff at work real quick. I’m sure they won’t be long.”

You nod, crossing your arms and scanning over the building in front of you. It definitely looks old. What used to be white paint has faded to a dark, muddy grey, and the windows are either smashed to bits or boarded over with moldy planks of wood. There’s stray graffiti scattered all over the place, the parking lot barely distinguishable from the overgrown weeds and shrubs surrounding the area.

Honestly, everything about it just screams “Danger! Stay the fuck away!” to you. How in the hell did the guys even find this place?

“Ah, fucking finally!”

You’re jolted out of your thoughts once again by one of the boys shouting from the truck bed. It must have been Jungkook, since he’s the one who jumps out and starts running towards the car pulling into the clearing.

Wait, a car? That could only mean-

The car slows to a stop behind Taehyung’s truck, and sure enough, you can just barely see the two boys you were asking about waving to you all inside. Well, one of them is waving. The other seems to be focused on parking without running over the energetic Kook jumping around the car.

You can kind of relate to the younger boy’s excitement, but the butterflies in your stomach are for an entirely different reason.

“What took you guys so long?” Jungkook whines, greeting the two newcomers as soon as they step out of the vehicle. “We were supposed to get into the building before it got dark!”

“I know, I know,” Namjoon apologizes. “We would’ve been here a lot sooner, but-”

“But someone kept insisting on grading ‘one more spelling quiz’ before we left.”

Yoongi’s grumpy pout is as evident as ever as he wholeheartedly throws his roommate under the bus. The three of them have joined the rest of the group now, the other two youngsters leaning over the side of the truck bed.

“You weren’t thinking of ditching us for some second graders, were you, Mr. Kim?” Taehyung teases, quirking an amused brow.

Jimin falls into giggles, “That sounds exactly like something he would do!”

“Hey, I promised the kids I would have them all handed back by Monday!”

Namjoon’s desperate attempts to defend himself are ignored, and you can’t help but smile at the small pout that crosses his face. It’s short lived, though, as Jungkook soon calls everyone’s attention back to him as he hops back up onto Taehyung’s truck.

“Alright, losers, now that we’re all finally here,” A mischievous grin grows on the maknae’s lips. “let’s get down to business.”

[simpcxty]

I want to post some ideas I’ve gotten for some super OP, My Hero Academia quirks.

I just really like them :)

Mentions of; masturbation, death?, mutilation of skin and body parts, scars

That might seem like a DoOzY.

Read Responsibly

So here y’all go.

If y’all end up using them that’s cool, I’m not gonna ask you to credit me because I know that people become inspired by the most random shit, and I honestly don’t really care if someone uses them because it’s doubtful lmao.

Although if you do end up using one, tag me! I’d love to see the work!!

But here’s the first one

Nullification- the reader is immune to all quirks, erasure, brainwash, decay, even being immune to fire, ice, acid, and quirks like that, as the fire or any of the other stuff is the result of a quirk. Toga can’t even transform into them using their blood, and twice can’t make copies of them.

I couldn’t really think of any drawbacks besides, the fact that just because you have nullification, doesn’t mean you’re super strong. So you have to train extra hard in, well- everything.

Next next :)

This one is kinda NSFW lol.

Euphoria- As a human with Bunny attributes (due to your quirk) You can put a temporary spell on people that lasts 72 hours (3 days) that causes unending, curiously strong, lust.

The scent you emit from yourself lets out breeding pheromones. So when inhaled, said person is immediately, I shit you not- right then and there in whatever position or spot they are in, SMACKED in the face with arousal.

They have to have sex, if they don’t, they run the risk of numerous things,

-heart failure from the stress

-a permanent pain in the gut that feels like being stabbed not 24/7- but 25/8

-and permanent genital damage, if the lust isn’t given into.

They can try masturbating normally but it won’t be fulfilling and they’ll still run the risk of going through any of the side affects.

Okay this next one is a long one WhOoPs

Elemental- the reader has the ability to control all four of the elements, and can even create a fifth one made from pure magic/energy, aura, and restless spirits from across the world. The elements present themselves as seductive beings, Fire, Water, Air, and Earth are all 6 feet tall. But Spirit is 8 feet tall. They don’t actually make a move on humans, they just protect the reader. Unless the reader is being attacked. Then they’ll go to ANY lengths to keep them safe, sorta.

Drawbacks, kinda like Shoto, if you use too much of one element, the effects will start to show on your body.

Too much earth, vines will start to grow around your wrists and calves, although if you keep going after that point. You’ll just pass out and a circle of vines will surround you till you regain your energy, then the vines will start to regress as you regain energy. Your Earth deity is always looking out for your energy.

Too much water/ice, and it’ll do the same thing it does on Shoto. Ice will start to cover your body, but your finger tips, and face get the brunt of the abuse. You almost lost your fingers once. But if you’re using too much water, you’ll start to get dizzy, and your elemental will start to collect water from anywhere, whether it be other human bodies, bodies of water, etc, so you have to stop using it or you could easily injure people you were trying to save because your water/ice deity is bad at knowing when to stop.

There are no drawbacks from manipulating the air/oxygen around people besides you start to lose your breath so you’ve gotten good at managing it so you never have to worry about that.

Unlike the other ones, the fire kinda coincides with your emotions. If you use too much fire,

1.)your skin starts to burn/scar, you don’t feel it but it’s happening.

2.) if you use it for too long and too much, you’ll start to lose control of your emotions and the thoughts swimming around in your head causing you to over exert yourself with your fire more and more which will make you start to go dark.

Which now introduces us to Spirit.

Spirit is a physical representation of all the restless souls not at rest in the world, as well as energy from others, aura, and the actual strength of the enemy being fought.

Spirit can and will change your physical form depending on the opponent.

That’s it for now :) I have more if I decide to post them.

[repulsivepangolin7]

Fic: 31 days of whump (9/31)

A/N: Alright, this is actually one of the few chapters which is connected to another chapter. So, this one and the next one goes hand in hand.

Word count: 1 435

Jingle bells was playing from a store somewhere along the street. People were dressed up for cold weather, even though they were in the city of Angels. Luca smirked to himself as he watched the weird mix of people walk down the street. Some in t-shirts and shorts, some with scarves, beanies and mittens. Didn’t folks realize that it was sunny and like 65 degrees out?

People were walking around with the big and REALLY BIG paper cups of Starbucks seasonal beverages, and he could see a street vendor further down the street selling sugar and cinnamon burnt almonds. He would have to buy some of those.

“How are you doing?” Tuana, Kelly’s mom, asked as she cast a worried glance over at him.

Luca realized he was starting to break a sweat, and paused in order to adjust his crutches. “Good, good. I’m doing good.”

“Are you sure?” she asked, looking up at him, “We could step inside that bakery and grab a bite and some coffee…”

He knew she was bailing him out from admitting that his leg hurt. A broken ankle usually hurts the first couple of weeks after it’s broken.

“Coffee sounds good…” he nodded. He would have admitted that his ankle was throbbing like crazy, if it hadn’t been for her giving him the perfect out. Besides, he could always go for some coffee.

They went inside the small bakery a couple of stores down.

Their first mission was to find a table to sit down by, then Tuana would go order for them.

They found a table standing against the rear wall, with four chairs. Luca sat down with his back against the wall and propped his recently injured leg up on the neighbor chair. He missed a pillow to place his leg on, but beggars can’t be choosers.

“What do you want to have?”

“Coffee, black.” He started, and readjusted his leg, “And something that looks tasty.”

“Like a sandwich? Croissant? Cupcake? Cake?”

“I’ll have whatever you’re having…” Luca chuckled.

“Alright.” she smiled, “Carrot cake then?”

He nodded, “Sure, sounds awesome.”

“How does your ankle look now?”

Luca scrounged up his nose. The surgeon who had operated on him had fixed his fractures with plates and screws. He wasn’t wearing a cast.  “Prolly swollen… Feels like it.”

“We can take a cab back to where we parked later…”

“Nah…” he shook his head, “Feels good to be walking around again. And it’s not that far. I just need a sit-down break.”

She nodded.

 SWATSWATSWAT

 A minute or two later the owner came by, with a slightly annoyed expression. “Hey, you can’t have your feet up on our furniture.”

Luca looked up from his phone. Tuana was still in line to place their order.

“Man, I need to have it elevated for a spell…” his shoulders slumped.

“What?” the owner answered dumb folded.

“I broke my leg at work about two weeks ago…”

“You ain’t got a cast.”

Luca nibbled on his lower lip for a short second, “I know…”

The owner was about to cross his arms to make it more obvious that he was getting annoyed, when Luca leaned forward and pulled the hem of his pants up towards his knee, revealing thick bandages going up both sides of his ankle.

“They secured it with metal plates and screws.” he explained, “My girlfriend over there and I have been Christmas gift shopping for her kid for two hours. My leg feels like it’s about to burst.”

The owner glanced over towards the line, then back at Luca with an entirely different expression, then he looked down at the floor and saw the crutches Luca had hid under the table. “I’m sorry. Never mind… Just have your leg up…”

“Thanks.” Luca nodded.

“Do you want a pillow or some ice to put on it?”

“You have those things here?”

“Sure thing.” the owner nodded, “We’ve got ice in the ice machine, we’ve got plastic bags to put it in. And we’ve got some pillows in the couch area.”

“That’d be great…” Luca smiled.

The owner gave a short nod and headed towards where the couch area probably was, before he a few seconds later returned with two pillows. “Here. You probably want to arrange them by yourself.”

Luca nodded, “Thank you.”

Then the owner went to find some ice for him.

 SWATSWATSWAT

 “What did that guy want?”

“Wanted to know if I had a good reason to have my leg up on one of his chairs.” Luca flashed a quick smile, “He found some pillows for me, and now he’s fetching some ice for me.”

“Oh, okay…” she nodded as she placed their coffees in front of them, “That’s good.”

Luca nodded.

“The guy behind the counter said he’d come over with the cakes in a couple of minutes.”

Luca nodded and leaned forward to adjust his leg and the pillows.

“Can I take a look?” she asked as she nodded towards his leg.

“Sure.” Luca nodded and pulled the hem of his pantleg back up.

“Sure is swollen…” Tuana noted as she placed a couple of fingers against the front of his lower shin, “At least it has a normal temperature. How does it feel?”

She helped him pull the hem back down again.

“Better now that I have it up.” Luca smirked, “It’s fine.”

Tuana nodded and sat down opposite him.

“So…” Luca sat back and looked over at her, “Given any thoughts to what you want for Christmas?”

She shrugged, “Haven’t really thought about it. But you don’t need to get me anything. I don’t think it was the best of ideas for you to tag along today, judging by how swollen your leg and ankle has gotten.”

Luca shrugged, “Hey, I could always get one of my teammates to drive me, or I could get one of them to go buy whatever I decide to get you for me. Stuff like that is easy now with video calls you know…”

“True…” Tuana rolled her eyes a little, “What if I say that I just want your company for Christmas?”

Luca grinned wide, “Well, you just stole my Christmas wish…”

“I’m just assuming you’re going to celebrate with us.” she tilted her head, hoping he’d nod or say yes, or something along those lines.

He nodded, just as the owner came back with a few freezer bags with ice. “Here, I struggled with finding the bags. One of my college kids practically rearranged the back kitchen the last time he cleaned it.”

“Thanks man…” Luca smiled, and let out a sigh of relief when he finally was able to drape two improvised icepacks over his lower left leg. “Thank you.”

“Gotta support our boys in blue, right?” the owner shrugged.

“How… How did you know?”

“Saw Tuana standing in line, without her bestie.” The owner answered, “Figured she finally worked up the nerve to bring her cop boyfriend here. Just had to see her sit down next to you before I was sure.”

Luca chuckled.

“So you got hurt at work?”

“Yeah.” Luca nodded, “Landed bad after jumping a fence. Didn’t help that I landed on top of a skateboard.”

The owner cringed, “Well, I hope you heal up quickly.”

“Thanks,” Luca smirked, “I’ll probably be back on my feet in no time.”

The owner nodded, “Where are my manners, I totally forgot to introduce myself… I’m Ben Neagley.”

“Dominique Luca.” he replied, “Just call me Luca, most people do.”

Ben nodded, “Yeah, kinda picked up on that from Tuana and Macy chatting about you.”

Luca chuckled and glanced over at Tuana, then back at Ben, “Not all bad I hope.”

“Oh, no…” Ben shook his head, “I wish my wife was as impressed with me, and proud of me as Tuana is of you. I’ve been hoping to meet this fantastic Mr. Luca.”

Luca glanced over at Tuana again, sending a flirtatious wink her way.

“Well, I’m just attempting to be the man she deserves.” Luca answered before turning back to Ben, “She’s by far the most amazing woman I’ve met.”

Ben smiled, “Yeah, you have to take good care of her.”

Luca nodded, “Trying to.”

“Oh, stop it… You’re doing a great job.” Tuana smiled.

 SWATSWATSWAT

 The waiter came by with the cakes, and Luca grabbed a spoonful of the frosting on top. “Damn, this is good.”

Tuana nodded before she had even tested it, “Macy and I have this as our coffee spot. The carrot cake here is my favorite. The frosting is a dream.”

Luca nodded energetically and smiled at her.

[andorerso]

tag games

There are a few tag games I’d been tagged in over the last couple of days so I thought I’d just compile it all into one big post. Thanks to everyone who tagged me! :)

Ten Songs I’ve Been Listening to Lately tagged by @firefeufuego2

1. Wrecking Ball - Miley Cyrus: yes, this is an old one, and I’m not a huge Miley Cyrus fan but I really love this song and I recently got obsessed with it again.

2. Someone to Stay - Vancouver Sleep Clinic: absolutely obsessed with this one! It’s so soft and pleasant to listen to. I actually discovered this song a few years ago and while I liked it, I never really appreciated it at the time. Then I heard it again somewhere recently and fell in love with it completely.

3. Hurricane - Fleurie: this is another one that I never truly appreciated then accidentally heard again and fell in love. I see a pattern here.

4. Us - James Bay: I really love a lot of his songs but this one is my current favorite. I can’t explain it, it just makes me feel really happy when I listen to it.

5. On Fire - Switchfoot: another oldie. I was in love with this song like more than ten years ago, and I still go back to it from time to time.

6. Toss a Coin to Your Witcher: yes, I’m still obsessed with this one. It’s so catchy, impossible not to sing along.

7. Don’t Cry For Me Argentina - Madonna: this one is one of my favorite songs ever, it gives you such a cathartic feeling. Plus it’s one of the inspirations for the novel I’m working on so I listen to it a lot.

8. Apám sírjánál - ByeAlex: this one is a Hungarian song and I don’t listen to a lot of them but I really love this one. The lyrics is about losing your father (the title means “at my father’s grave”) and while thankfully I haven’t experienced that, I did lose my grandfather and it always makes me think of him. It’s really heart-clenching.

9. The Archer - Taylor Swift: possibly my favorite Taylor Swift song ever! I really love the soft melody and the lyrics too. Also, inspiration for an OC.

10. Let You Go - Katie Herzig: I don’t know what to say about this tbh, I just like it and it’s catchy.

The Nosy One tagged by @the-remote-part

Top 3 ships: Well, Rebelcaptain is still number one, it seems like I just can’t let go of them. Other than that, I have a lot of favorites but none I’m particularly obsessed with at the moment. But to name two more: I just finished watching The Boys and I was absolutely in love with the relationship between Frenchie and Kimiko. So pure, so soft. I mean he calls her mon coeur! Loved them. And thirdly, Catra and Adora from She-Ra because they’re always among my top favorites and I really hope this upcoming last season will make them canon.

Last Song: Robbers - The 1975

Last Movie: It was actually TRoS back in December. I don’t watch movies often because I’m not a huge movie person, I prefer TV shows. I do plan to watch Little Women soon though.

Currently Reading: Nothing except fics. I have a bad habit that I only read at school or on the train and since I’ve been home since January, I couldn’t really make myself read anything (which is a shame because I have so many interesting books on my TBR.)

What food are you craving right now: Honestly nothing, I just had coffee. It’s dinner time soon so I could stand to eat something but I don’t particularly crave anything tbh.

Last Line Meme tagged by @leaiorganas

If Cassian hated her, what was the point of staying?

Yes, this is for corellian rum. I'm currently writing it, I’m just taking a break to post this.

5 Things You Like About Yourself tagged by @cats-and-metersticks

1. Can I say physical stuff? I’m trying to come up with things I haven’t said before in this tag and I really love my eyes. It’s my favorite physical feature on myself.

2. I’m good with creating OCs and giving them a life and personality.

3. I don’t usually panic or stress over things I know I have no control over.

4. I like to think I can make pretty aesthetic moodboards.

5. I’m good at observing/reading people. Although I usually pretend not to be but I notice stuff.

This or That: Fic Edition tagged by @agentmmayy

slowburn or love at first sight // fake dating or secret dating // enemies to lovers or best friends to lovers // oh no there’s only one bed or long-distance correspondence // hurt/comfort or amnesia // fantasy au or modern au // mutual pining or domestic bliss // smut or fluff // canon-compliant or fix-it // reincarnation or character death // one-shot or multi chapter // kid fic or road trip fic // arranged marriage or accidental marriage // high school romance or middle aged romance // time travel or isolated together // neighbors or roommates // sci-fi au or magic au // body swap or genderbend // angst or crack // apocalyptic or mundane

20 Questions tagged by @agentmmayy

1. NAME: Niki 2. NICKNAMES: Sissi aka how y’all know me here 3. ZODIAC SIGN: Sagittarius 4. HEIGHT: 169 cm 5. LANGUAGES SPOKEN: Hungarian, English, French, some Spanish, a little Turkish and a little Serbian 6. NATIONALITY: Hungarian 7. FAVORITE SEASON: Fall 8. FAVORITE FLOWER: Lilacs 9. FAVORITE SCENT: I couldn’t say, I don’t think I have one 10. FAVORITE COLOR: Purple, red 11. FAVORITE ANIMAL: Cats 12. FAVORITE FICTIONAL CHARACTER(s): Cassian Andor, Hürrem Sultan (at least the fictionalized version of her in Magnificent Century), Yennefer of Vengerberg, Wynonna Earp 13. COFFEE, TEA, OR HOT CHOCOLATE: I love all but coffee - hot chocolate - tea in that order 14. AVERAGE SLEEP HOURS: 8-9 hours normally, though right now it might be more 15. DOG OR CAT PERSON: Cats! I think dogs are cute but absolutely cats. I can’t imagine I’d ever get a dog. 16. NUMBER OF BLANKETS YOU SLEEP WITH: One. Whether it’s winter or summer, I don’t care, it’s always one. 17. DREAM TRIP: Turkey, particularly Istanbul 18. BLOG ESTABLISHED: This one in January, 2018. But I’ve been on tumblr since 2012. 19. FOLLOWERS: 422 20. RANDOM FACT: I can’t stand raisins

Spell Out Your URL Using Song Titles tagged by @agentmmayy

Chasing Cars - Snow Patrol Agape - Bear’s Den Pyro - Kings of Leon Talia - King Princess Another Love - Tom Odell I’ll Be Good - Jaymes Young National Anthem - Lana Del Rey Arsonist’s Lullaby - Hozier Never Let Me Go - Florence & the Machine Dust to Dust - The Civil Wars Oceans - Seafret Ride  - Lana Del Rey Saturn - Sleeping at Last