#i can handle ONE (1) project at a time on this new (used) old piece of crap laptop and it takes real long so i

[jay-m3]

Hazbin Baby

Male reader insert!

Episode 1 (Part 2)

Previous Episode 1 (Part 1)

Pilot Part 1, Charlie and Vaggie

After Charlie was out of sight from Vaggies view from the hotel, she gathers everyone in the living space before they disperse.

Reluctantly, Husk leaves the bar area to sit on the other side of the couch that Angel has occupied at the other end.

Angel watches him do so, leaning back on the couch to gaze seductively at the cat sinner.

Thankfully, to Husks’ luck, Niffty plots down in between them.

Alastor sits down on the arm chair that everyone acknowledges as his spot.

(M/n) is still on the floor, making a wall from his blocks with his shadow buddy.

“Okay, so, Charlie is dealing with something very important, so while she's gone, we are making a new commercial. One that represents her vision and what we're doing here.” Vaggie exclaims, already planning everything in her head. Feeling determination to get this project done so she can show her girlfriend.

“So, we need a camera. Alastor?” Vaggie turns to Alastor, having seen the demon summon up things in the last week.

Feeling slight mischievous and petty, Alastor snaps his fingers conjuring up a camera for Vaggie, which happpens to be those folding-type photography camera from the 1930s that couldn’t record at all.

“A video camera.” Vaggie says, unamused by the prank.

“Hmmm.” With a hum, Alastor once again snaps his fingers.

This time, the camera in Vaggie’s hand changes to a video camera, which is in poor condition by the way of how tape was wrapped around it.

Not wanting to sour her own mood, she accepts the camera of how it is.

“Alright! Let's do this!”

___

”Okay, (M/n). You’re my only hope. All you have to do is-“

Before Vaggie can finish, her son runs off. Wanting to climb the fence that was horribly built around the hotel.

“(M/n), sweetheart, no.” Vaggie quickly grabs a hold of her son by the waist and settling him down back next to the ball that she wanted him to play with to record it and show that the hotel is child friendly.

Unfortunately though, little (M/n) just wanted to go and climb. So he rushed off once more when he got placed down.

Once again, Vaggie grabs him by the waist which triggers an unfortunate cry from the boy. A tantrum of the sorts to get what he wants.

“What a star in the making.” Angel mocks with a chuckle, watching Vaggie handle her son’s tantrum.

All Vaggie replies is with a growl.

___

Vaggie groans, covering her face in frustration when the clips that she has captures plays on the old TV.

The light from it is the only light source as the lights are off so it won’t disturb the sleeping toddler inside the play pin that they only use now for nap time.

It didn’t take much putting the boy down, tiring himself out from all the crying.

Alastor watches the mother rub her face in distress for a moment, feeling amused by it all. Wanting a better seat to watch, Alastor sits down on the couch, arm holding his head up as he slumps over the couches arm.

“Seems like you're having a bit of a trouble there, hmm?”

“Ugh, este pendejo... Why are you even here?” Vaggie sighs out, eyeing him with a glare.

“For the entertainment.” Alastor exclaims, his shadow slipping out to form itself behind it’s owner, shaking in silent laughter.

“I came here because I love seeing wasteful souls struggle to accomplish something meaningful and fail spectacularly, like you are doing now. Good job!" Alastor buoyantly says, his shadow vanishing as an example of when Alastor heavily implies on failure. An imagery of those that Alastor have seen for entertainment.

Having enough, Vaggie gets up, irritation reaching its peak from getting reminded of her poor attempt of making a commercial. In her irritation, she turns on the camera and points it at the demon.

“And here is Alastor, the egocentric piece of shit that—“ Vaggie zooms in on Alastor’s smiling face which the screen of the camera starts to immediately glitch, violently. Freaking out, Vaggie drops the camera that has started to spark.

You shift from the noise from the camera thumping down on the floor which followed by a startled yelp from your mamá.

“I wouldn't try that, my dear. This face was made for radio.”

The sound of static wakes you up, a whine leaves your throat from being pulled out from your nap. Yet you don’t move from your place, body still heavy from sleep.

“That's it. I don't care who or what you are. If you're staying here, you're going to make this work, because it won't be so ’entertaining’ to watch over an empty hotel, will it, shitass?” Vaggie huffs, sitting back down not having heard her son. The slight fear that she felt vanishing as she tries to play it off and let her irritation take over instead.

“Fair enough.” Alastor shrugs, acknowledging what the female said. With an idea, Alastor approaches her. “I'll tell you what. Let's make a deal.”

“Pfft, you think I'm that stupid, making a deal with a demon like you?”

Hearing your mamá and Alastor, you calm down enough to not cry out. To self soothe, you suck on your thumb, oblivious to what is going on.

“Not for your soul, just a simple deal. I do this for you, and you never ask me to engage with this frivolous television technology ever again.” He taps the TV.

Vaggie stays quiet, thinking over what the male propersitioned.

“Or…Charlie can come back to absolutely nothing. Your choice.” Alastor hums out, trying to lighten the mood by playing with his mic. Taking a glance to the crib when he sees light movements to indicate that you were awake.

Vaggie glances away, hesitation is clear on her face but the mention of her girlfriend, she really wants to make her happy.

“Fine.” She sighs out, picking up the camera and places it in Alastor's hand, where green energy skulls start swirling around it.

Usually his deals are eccentric but seeing as you were awake, Alastor has the mind to tone it down.

“Now then!” Alastor evaporates the camera with a clap of his hand, then snaps his fingers, conjuring equipment for a film set.

The crip around you vanishes as you suddenly appear in Vaggies hold. Summoning Angel Dust, Husk, and Niffty to the living area, Alastor dresses up everyone in the Roaring Twenties. Ink demons are conjured up as additional film crew members appears around them.

“Alright everyone, let's make a fucking commercial.” Vaggie grins out, holding on to you tightly.

___

Charlie sadly returns to the hotel. Her mind in a jumble mess as she thinks how to explain what happened with the meeting with Adam, the first man that was created. Who also was created for her mom that is nowhere in sight.

Sighing, she enters her hotel, Vaggie runs to her and hugs her as a greeting.

Little (M/n) following behind with a big smile, happy to finally see his mommy.

“Charlie! How did it go, did they listen?”

Charlie bends down when she sees her son who's raising his hands to be picked up.

“Oh, they sure did… hear it. But, um-“

“Oh, come here! We have something exciting to show you.” Vaggie interrupts, unable to contain her excitement to see her girlfriends reaction. She grabs Charlies' unocuppied hand that wasn’t carrying (M/n) and lead her to where everyone is at.

“Alastor pulled some strings and it's about to air.” She sits down on the couch before pulling the blonde down next to her.

“I pulled a few limbs too, hahaha!” Alastor laughs at his own little joke.

“Wait, the commercial? You all made a new one?” Charlie asks, adjusting the two year old on her lap.

“Yeah, one of my better performances if I do say so myself.” Angel answers, brushing his hair back. Actually proud of his acting in this film, not used to being infront of a camera that isn’t work related.

“That's... that's amazing.” Charlie beams, tears starting to prick her eyes as she feels so honored and happy from the unexpected gift.

“Sshh, it's starting.”

“Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel -“ Vaggie in the commercial starts before the TV cuts to a breaking news report channel.

The sound of your parents and Angel angry complaints at the TV, you shout as well, coping what you see.

“Breaking news in Hell today! We have just received word from the Heaven Embassy that the next Extermination is happening sooner than ever before. Do you know what that means, Tom?” Katie Killjoy starts off.

“No, what does that mean, Katie?” Tom continues the script.

“It means we're all royally fucked!” Katie slams the papers down in her hands with an eye twitch as the scene of the TV shifts to the tower that shows the days of the next extermination. The numbers reduces to 176 days, the sound of sinners screaming blares from the TV.

“Wait, what? Why?!” Angel yells out. Charlie nervously smiles, hugging you close to her to cover herself up.

[missbeautyandherbeast]

Ways to My Heart

Donatello X Reader

Summary: Request: Originally based on “Ways to Break My Heart” by Ed Sheeran but it got healthier

A/n: Apparently I appear every Christmas and rewrite an old prompt. And now that I'm older and healthier, it's kinda fun. And y'all were right, we're not about to be a rebound. So, for my dear @witchancunin, I hope you don't mind that it's been four years.

Autumn was settling in. With the wave after wave of rain that we had, there were little colors to the dying trees. Some scientific reason about fungi and decay. Donnie had explained it, but I barely payed attention. 

Not that I wasn’t paying attention to him: I was too focused. We were working on a new lego set and I had one to many to drink to pit the small plastic pieces together so he took over and his fingers though larger than mine, were so nimble and they pursued the legos with ease as he assembled a BD-1 droid: my present to him after we finished The Fallen Order together. 

The thought of us playing made me smile. I played through most of the game, getting my Star Wars fix, but when it became too difficult, I’d get so frustrated and Donnie would laugh and take the controller from me and defeat whatever stood in my way. I loved and hated him for it. 

But that didn’t change the fact that New York was wet and colorless.

I took the hidden alley, now slick with today’s chilled rain, and followed the path down to his home and the warmth it offered. And when winter came and I missed the heat of my hometown—which was safe and sound in the middle of Georgia—four brothers did their best to keep me temperate: Mikey was all hugs; Raphael actually knitted me a sweater last winter (yes it was purple, no I don’t want to talk about it); Leo let me invade his space now and again if he was meditating; and Donnie… well there was no place warmer than his lab. Between the tech and the constant blush he knew how to get on my face and down my neck… it was where I spent most of my time. 

“Still no color,” I sighed, shrugging off my coat and hanging it in my usual spot by his door. 

“I told you there wouldn’t bet be,” His eyes flashed to mine before returning to his project. 

“A girl can dream,” A smile touched my lips as I wandered over to see what he was working on. 

In front of him was a circuit board and he was soldering wires to the metal with such precision. I left him to it, having no idea the plans in his head of creation, and I found my book on one of his other work stations. Picking it up, I resumed reading—a romance novel I let myself indulge in now and again when I was over stressed. This one was about chess and it was set in Jersey, which I found hysterical. 

I must have made a sound, or a face, or some sort of tell because I heard his voice pulling me from the fictional world. 

“What did Nolan do now?” Donnie asked, pushing back from his desk and over to where I was curled up. 

“Not Nolan,” the story’s main guy. “It’s Oz. He’s definitely telling off Mallory right now,” 

“Oooo what did she do?” I had his full attention. And it wasn’t the first time. He insisted that every time I read a book I tell him about it, despite the many insistings that he read them himself. 

“I like your perspective,” He told me once. “Books are dull, dry, but you bring them alive,” 

So, I launched into the tale, weaving the complexities of the plot with my words and gestures, the poor book being waved around. And all the while his eyes stayed on mine, and he gave the softest smile that belonged to only me. 

He always kept me warm. 

When it go late enough, and we had joined his family in having pizza and watching tv (we were currently going through the newer She-Ra on Netflix), I had to trek back out into the cold. 

“Let me take you home,” Donnie piped up, seeing me get my coat and boots. 

“I’m a big girl, I can handle it,” I rolled my eyes. 

“I know,” He said with such certainty. “Let me do it anyway.” There was that warmth again. 

“Okay,” 

Raph gave me a knowing look but I ignored him. 

And like greeting an old friend, we had our routine. Donnie would stay, and we’d curl up on my couch and watch old reruns of Doctor Who until we were both asleep in the comfort of my apartment. 

And it was warm. 

……………………………….

Then April came. 

And God it was so nice to have a friend who was in on the secret. We explored New York together, had movie nights, and so many girl talks that may have involved some alcohol. 

But it meant I had to watch Donnie fall head over heels for her—from my usual spot in his lab, as he showed her all of his projects, chattering happily. 

I told myself it didn’t bother me. And it didn’t. 

Sorta. 

Maybe? 

Shut up. 

Hiding it from Donnie was easy. Hiding it from the rest of his family? Not so much. 

“You okay kid?” Raph asked, standing beside me as Donnie explained the entire Shell-Razer to April. 

“Why wouldn’t I be?” My voice was low. 

“Because my brother’s an ass,” 

I laughed humorlessly. “We weren’t together Raph.” A shrug fell from my shoulders as I wrapped my arms around myself, trying to fight off the lingering chill. “It’s fine. I’m—fine.” 

It was a few weeks later that I came to the lair; always having an excuse to not accompany April. I could see it in her eyes that she knew something was up, but she didn’t call me out on it—yet. 

“Miss Y/n,” Splinter stopped me as I entered. 

“Master Splinter,” I gave a small head nod. 

“Let’s talk child,” His words caught me off guard. 

“Um. Okay,” I followed him to the meditation room that was lit softly with sparse candles. 

“You have not been coming around as often.” It was a statement. Not a question. 

“Yeah,” I knew no excuse would work on the old master, and the father of four boys. 

“Is everything alright?” He rose an eyebrow and I gave a feeble lie: 

“Yeah,” 

He nodded. “Let’s try that again. Everything is not alright.” 

Tears glossed my vision and the familiar pain flooded my chest like ice. I tilted my chin back, holding my head high. 

“Master, there’s nothing I can do.” I opened my mouth to continue trying to find the courage. “I care deeply for him,” My eyes trained on a candle flame. “But I never told him and… that’s my consequence to live with,” 

“I see,” His wise voice held so much understanding that it washed over me. “And because of that choice, you do not come around as often?” 

“It hurts less,” That was the simple fact. “I don’t have to watch him…” 

“Chase after April?” Splinter filled in knowing. 

“Yeah.” 

He nodded. “Perhaps you and April should talk,” 

“Look, I don’t—“ 

“Y/n,” He cut me off and I pursed my lips. “April is your best friend, and I have a feeling she wants to help you,” 

“I know,” He was right, and maybe hearing git gave me the courage to say something after all. A smile touched my lips. “Thanks Sensei.” 

“I care about my family,” He said. “And that includes my daughters,” 

Tears stung my eyes again as he gave me a hug. 

“Thank you,” 

“Of course, child,” 

……………………………………….

April and I did sit down and talk. More of she called me out on moping and avoiding the subject. So, we sat on our fire escape and talked. About everything. 

She knew when she first got there that there was something going on between Donnie and me. And though she loved the brothers, she didn’t like Donnie that way. She also knew that was the reason I was avoiding going to the lair. 

“I’m sorry,” She said. 

“For what?” I almost laughed. 

“Because, before I came, there would have been no doubt that you and Donnie would be together by now,” 

“Hey I wouldn’t trade you for anything,” I smiled. “And if… if Donnie wants to be… whatever the heck this is, I can handle it.” 

“But you shouldn’t have to,” April said. “I want you to be happy Y/n. And I want you back at the lair. I… I just want you to have your life back,” 

“It wouldn’t be as fun without you.” 

“I know,” She laughed. “But I am going to talk to Donnie,” She must have seen the horror on my face. “Not about you! God no! But I’m gonna tell him that I don’t feel that way about him, and hopefully he gets the message,” 

I nodded. “Thanks April,” 

When April had told me that Donnie took their talk semi-well, I still gave it a few weeks before I headed to the lair, not wanting to have to pick up the aftermath of his shattered fantasy. 

With end of Spring, I had my family back. 

There was a cool distance between Donnie and I that was slowly thawing until I was back in his lab reading and he was fidgeting with his tools. It took another week for him to ask me about my book. And another week for him to take me home. And a few more days for his smile to be back. And a couple more for mine to stay. I wrestled with what had happened in the winter and spring, trying to look for the other shoe to drop. 

But when the six of us played a board game, or watched movies or even had dinner, all that was felt was camaraderie. Donnie didn’t notice April anymore and he backed down. Raph kept a careful eye just like I did. When he caught my stare, Raph rose an eyebrow at me, glancing to Donnie. I shrugged and smiled. 

I didn’t know. 

And I think that was okay. 

I think I was okay.

With summer, meant my birthday. June 14th. The boys and April insisted on throwing a big party for me in the lair with cake and presents and music and dancing. I hadn’t laughed so much in months. 

Donnie offered to walk me home, like always. Like old times. Like now. 

We were standing on my roof, all I had to do was climb down the fire escape to the apartment April and I shared. 

“Happy birthday,” His smile was back, and God I had missed it. All of the careful walls I had built around myself came crashing down at the simple gesture. 

“Thanks Donnie,” 

And in the starlight of the roof, alone with the city alive beneath us, he leaned in and his lips were on mine. A stolen kiss that had me wrecked. 

Donnie pulled away, wonder in my eyes, and confusion in his. 

“I—I’m sorry,” He stammered out, his brows pulling together. 

“It’s… it’s okay,” I managed a smile. 

“I’m sorry,” he said again, backing away. “That… I didn’t mean—it was a mistake,” He choked out. 

My body jerked back with the rejection that crashed over it. 

“What?” My voice was as cold as ice. 

“I—I don’t know why I did that.”

“Oh, okay,” I managed.

He was gone like a shadow in the night and I stood there frozen. 

…………………………………

I must have been up there for too long, because April came up to find me. 

“Hey are you okay?” Her voice was concerned. 

“Um,” Was all I could manage. 

“What happened? Donnie came back and he’s not talking. He’s barricaded himself in his lab.” 

“Um.” I said again. “He… he kissed me.” 

“Oh my God that’s amazing!” April celebrated, but paused when she saw the dread in my eyes. “Then what happened?” 

“He. Um. Said it was a mistake.” I choked out. 

“I—I’m—I’m actually going to kill him,” April said. “He said that? To you!? After kissing you!?” She was outraged, and maybe I should have been too, but it was like my entire body had gone into a comatose. She took my hands into hers. I met her eyes. Tears finally thawed and started to fall. 

“Oh, honey come here,” She pulled me into a hug and I started crying. Every tear I had denied finally rushed forward, and soon I was sobbing on that roof. 

“Did I do something wrong?” I asked her, miserable. We had made it back to the flat, and we were curled up on my bed. 

“No, honey, you didn’t.” April soothed, petting my hair. 

The next morning he was standing in my living room. The two of us. Standing like we had not twenty four hours ago. But the morning was different. Now I couldn’t bare to be near him. It was only because April said I should at least get closure this time that I was even out here.

I stared at him, my lips pursed, waiting for him to say something. 

“I’m sorry,” He blurted out. “That—what I said, it wasn’t what I meant.” He started pacing anxiously. “Look, I know that I hurt you with that whole April thing, and I haven’t apologized for that and I really should and I want to!” His words began tumbling together in his nervousness. “And I wanted to do that before I ever did anything else, and God definitely before kissing you, but you were there so close on that roof and you were just beautiful, and I—I’m so sorry,” 

I blinked. My face when through a series of expressions before settling on shocked confusion. 

“I know!” Donnie insisted. “God, I know and I’m so sorry Y/n. Especially for not explaining last night. But I was panicking and—“ He took a deep breath. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry for chasing after April like I did. I genuinely thought that you’d never want me like that. And that was a dick thing for me to do. And I’m sorry for hurting you for so long.” He smiled a bit. “And I’m sorry for crossing your boundaries last night. And for not sticking around and explaining. Also a dick move on my part. So… yeah,” He nodded, not daring to meet my eyes. 

“Um. Okay,” I managed. “Uh… wow.” 

“I know it’s a lot. I’m sorry,” He said. 

“You can stop apologizing Donnie,” I gave a small laugh. “That’s um… alright. Thanks? I think?” 

“Are you mad?” His eyes met mine. “I don’t know…” I confessed. “Um I think I need a minute. Or two,” 

“Right! Yeah! Of course! Take as much time as you need!” He said backing away. “Um—I’m gonna go and give you space, but you can come over or call or anything anytime—we are still having game night tonight, so if you want to come—not that you have to!” He was an anxious mess again. 

I placed my hand on his arm to stop him. “Thank you,” I smiled pointedly. 

“Right, um… I’ll just be off then,” He nodded, backing away. “Bye.” 

“Bye?” I laughed. And like that he was gone again. “Hey April?” I called, knowing she heard all of that. 

She emerged from her room. 

“You heard all of that right?” I clarified. 

“Every word,” She was grinning. 

“Why does it all feel so weird?” I asked. “Like really weird.”

“Because that my dear,” April said. “Was emotional maturity.” 

“Is that what that looks like?” 

“For the most part,” April nodded. “So, what are you feeling?”  

“That, it all makes sense? And I want to believe him? And that its still really weird,” 

“All fair feelings,” April said. 

The hours ticked by until game night at the lair. April and I had gone back and forth about going or not. And when it came time to it… I was putting on my sneakers and grabbing my bag. 

I walked into the lair and I felt every stare on me. I was only looking for one gaze though. 

“Hey,” He said, getting up, looking genuinely surprised that I was there. 

“Hey.” I smiled. “Can we talk?” 

Tags: @brightlotusmoon@boatloadsofheart@legandarybeauty@crazywritingbug@bitch-kms@ravn-87@just-a-casual-fangirl-011@unicornjoos @stuckoutsideofthebox@ilikestuffproductions@whygz@coffee-addicti@sugarspooks15@leslieebee@serperiorkb@blossom-skies@fantastical-67impala-fangirl@coresan@big-banging-red@iceprincess2019@raphaeladdict@thirstyforvenom @merindagriese@depressedemo-152@bengewatch@corabmarie@bitemebro522@tmnt-queen@muleka-loka@violet-sky-96 @curadopordeus@artemismohr18​ @thewhisperpen @xjupitermoonsx@bisexualbumblebeesstuf f @merindagriese @oceans-daughter-3​ @dixonreedusfangirlforever@shanidenise@thegayestfish441@lovelyyroseee@yourlieberhoe@dolphincommander@molzies-fanfics@fuzzy-panda@msmcsmutt​ @zombiesnips-blog

[scarebats]

this is just gonna be me explaining what i like and don’t like about each bttf and going into depth x

be warned my opinions are very strong and i wrote a lot😭

i did not check for spelling or grammar so expect mistakes!!

okay so for the first movie, i personally think that it’s an amazing introduction to a trilogy. in the beginning you’re wonderinf why marty is in a room with a bunch of clocks and such, overall you’re just curious about who he is. then it moves onto when he realizes he’s late for school n stuff. from how people react to him (like mr strickland who is also stinger) you can tell that he doesn’t have the best track record of being polite or tactical. also how it’s obvious how much he cares about jennifer and his music this is actually just me explaining the movie plot shit

BTTF 1

so again i really like how each character is introduced, and i also like how marty and george have more similar traits when they’re both 17, because then they’re basically the same person. they’re in love with a girl, and are passionate about one this but can’t handle rejections. i like how they made marty so similar to 1955 george, but then different in the original 1985 because they didn’t fall in love how they’d wanted (not the best explanation) anyways i also find it funny how doc’s appearance doesn’t change for 30 years. idk i find that funny. and how doc has pictures of famous scientists instead of like family photos in the house that he inherited from his family😭 also!! in the original 1985, doc only had his shed (where the delorian was kept) and next to it was a burger king, and that’s because he blew all of his family fortune on failed projects. very sorry that i keep gettinf off track, i am very passionate about back to the future. anyways! i like how biff is generally the same in 1955 and original 1985, just his behaviour is less justified while he’s 47 years old😭 and in the new 1985 how he’s showed that he learned his place (which kinda confuses me because it was literally a singular punch that did that) but still has that same personality revealed in the second movie

honestly i think that how marty was literally the reason his parents got together, and then 30 years later (to his parents) his dad literally says to him “30 years ago, a young man once told me, you can accomplish anything if you put your mind to it” LIKE HOW COULD HE NOT LOOK AT HIS SON AND THINK “OH SHIT IT WAS YOU” ??? i’m sorry that party makes me very angry. like the REASON that you are married to the love of your life is your son, who just so happens to look exactly like the man that gave you the piece of advice that you now live by. what a coincidence! you even fucking named your son after that man. like ITS SO FRUSTRATING.

BTTF 2

i like how doc and marty’s relationship seems more closely bind together as father-son kind of, also bttf part 2 is my favourite!!! personally, i also enjoy how hill valley generally stays the same, just modified along with the times. like how the clock tower still stands and the café is still in service. it’s also a bit cliche how each movie has basically the same plot, just different scenes. also !! i think it’s cool how they include scenes from the first movie (the enchantment under the sea dance) into the second movie and created a whole new point of view to think about while you watch the first movie again. when griff (biff’s grandson) tries to get martin (marty’s son) along with his friends, the amount of groaning is insane… i’m just enjoying this part of the movie and then marty just takes his son’s hat and pretends to be him and then griff is groaning while spikes come out of nowhere and he fr tries to kill him like what. not to mention that he son is knocked out behind the bar of the café and marty couldn’t give any shits😭 and also how rude those two little kids were when marty was showing them how to play that video game (the one the foreshadows the end of the movie and the bttf part 3) “you have to use your hands!?” YES. YES YOU DO YOU SPOILED BRAT. that’s how they envisioned 2015 in 1988 thats so crazy to me. also jaws 19 😭 that’s just the portion of the movie that’s in 2015 tho. bro how jennifer is literally passed out in an alley for most of that too is so crazy

then like she wakes up and stuff and finds her future self and all that too but that’s not that interesting for me

THE LIKE 9 SCREENS ON ONE TV THAT MARTIN WAS WATCHING ALL AT ONCE.

i like the alternate 1985 where biff turned hill valley into like the strip in las vegas. he literally could’ve actually went to las vegas but he decided to stay in hill valley😭 made a museum of himself too like what. oh yeah i also like how much marty struggles to get the sports book back from biff in 1955 and he literally hides in mr stricklands office and it ends up being some explicit magazine😭 now onto the end of the movie… marty from bttf 1 finally goes back in the delorian and then doc is celebrating that one of his inventions work and stuff. then immediately after marty is already there and he’s like “you fucked shit up”

BTTF 3

i absolutely hate how marty and doc’s character traits were basically flipped in the third movie. like suddenly marty is being reasonable and wants to get home, and doc fr starts saying “this is heavy” LIKE WHAT MARTY WAS DOING FOR THE PAST TWO MOVIES. and then he proceeds to throw any logic that he made clear himself put the window when he met clara😭 the same clara that was supposed to die off of that cliff and then be known as “clayton canyon” or something like that. one scene “me? falling in love? pfft” the very next scene “i will throw away the future of this guy who is like a son to me and myself for you” SHE WAS SUPPOSE TO DIE. i get the love at first sight and all but you’re gonna mess up literally everything man. also i know that they’re living in the old west, but their tans look so unnatural😭 and how 1955 doc specifically tells marty to change his shoes into boots when he gets there and the first thing that happens is he gets chased by a bear and uses the boots as a distraction to get away. those shoes are iconic fr (i own the same shoes) bttf part 3 is my least favourite movie in the franchise, mainly because it completely goes against how the characters act in the other two movies. also how jennifer was sleeping on her front porch since like the middle of bttf part 2 is insane😭 i get that it’s technically been october 25th since the first movie, but please she’s been asleep for like at least a week technically. omg i forgot maddog aka buford tannen😧 he like. challenges marty to a duel and then gets covered in manure again. it’s pretty funny

—

thank you to whoever actually read this💕

[xxcherrycherixx]

Anything you'd be willing to share on the bjd project?

What inspired you, intended size. etc?

i actually just pretty much finished the model so perfect timing lmao

the size is around 30cm so average barbie size or 1/6th scale i believe?? im not actually that knowledgeable about bjd terms and shit i just want a pretty doll i can pose better than my eah dolls 💀

for inspirations this model is based on my c.a cupid design (aka big booby curvy cupid my beloved) because im insane and obsessed ofc so it only makes sense i make the bjd of her. but there wasn't really any doll inspirations?? i mean i looked at hundreds to figure out just how the fuck bjd's actually work since i dont even own one or anything (my made to move barbie actually helped a bit, she has somewhat similar mechanics so i could sometimes study her movements and shapes as i worked) , but i really just wanted a more realistic looking curvy doll so i kinda winged it because most i saw are really simplistic, over exaggerated, anime inspired or just skinny. even then she still isn't as curvy as i would have liked mostly for the fact that it was hard to find references that would show me how to deal with the pose limitations curvy dolls have.

i will say, her joints arent actually sculpted by me. i used the free elbow/knee joint and peanut hip joint by aelithArt because i literally have 0 blender experience and when i started i didnt think i could handle making joints yet. i might be able to now after finally finishing my first project, and maybe i will try to make some eventually but for now im fine with using the premade ones.

like i said she is literally my first blender and 3D modeling project ever, the only experience with blender i had before this was occasionally downloading it thinking "im going to finally learn blender" struggling to do basic things for an hour and then just uninstalling because i couldn't do anything 💀 but this time i actually followed the character sculpt tutorial by bran sculpts on youtube, and fuck it helped me so much- my ass had no idea how to use a subdivision surface or boolean before it 😭

this finished model is also the result of a second try, the first model i started and posted about on here i actually quit it because i ran into issues i didn't know how to fix at the time. im much happier with this one's face and body though, although i kinda really miss the massive tits of my old one and might make a version of the bust piece with similar boobs (part of me also really wants a penis version of the hip piece so i can make cupid cock real LMAOO).

here's a comparison of the two (old left, new right)

she has her elastic channels all hollowed out (they should fit 3mm elastics if i did my measurements right, but then again i dropped out of school at 13 so dont take my word) and the inside of her head has supports for small magnets to be added.

basically all thats left for me to do is to save up and get an actual resin 3D printer because i dont actually have one 💀 thats right i spent all this time making her knowing i have no way to actually print her 😭 i cant even show off this achievement to people i know like my parents because i don't know how to explain why i sculpted a doll with nipples and a vagina.

no one even knows i draw nsfw art despite it being literally all i draw now, i just don't want these kind of conversations with anyone i know 😭 despite my shameless hornyness online i am actually very shy about these subjects when it comes to people i know irl 😔

[20dollarlolita]

Going to do a lolita challenge that The Random Lolita posted 12 years ago. I'm going to be spacing these out, but it seemed like it'd be fun.

I picked this because it's not coord-heavy and so that means more people could join in if they want. I've wanted to do this for quite a while, but always kind of found other people's annoying to read. Since tumblr has a decent blacklist function now, you can just block "20dollarlolita 30daylorlolita challenge" to avoid reading this.

Day 1) 10 things about your lolita bubble.

Not going to lie, I didn't do this one for the longest time because I didn't really get what "your lolita bubble" meant, and I didn't want to start this on the wrong foot. But I read some other people's things and it's apparently just things that are about how you interact with the concept of lolita fashion.

So here goes: 1) my lolita bubble is a mess right now. In addition to being non-weight bearing on my foot, which is making all lolita difficult, there's also some interesting things happening in the local community that I'm in. 2) I'm so used to being the lone lolita that it feels very strange to me to be so wrapped up in what other people in my area are doing. I was lone lolita for the first 10+ years I was in the fashion, and have only had a local community for a year or so. I changed jobs last year, and part of the reason was that I wasn't allowed to have a flexible day off and had to use my PTO any time I wanted a day off that wasn't a tuesday or wednesday. I would have quit over the disrespect that this issue was handled with, but the reason that this was initially brought up was because my lolita meets were not happening on weekdays. 3) I'm into lolita fashion because it allows me to be creative, to craft new things, and to build new things. I love buying pieces that are missing components and then rebuilding those components.

Okay, line break, 4) I'm currently working on a bunch of projects, including resizing a JSK for a friend. I had to replace a broken zipper and add a shirring panel. I absolutely love how shirring panels make sewing lolita so much more accessible, because if the fit isn't completely right, you know the panel will compensate. I had to add a little bit on the sides, which one of the waist ties was sacrificed for. I'm trying to figure out how to turn the existing one waist tie into two so that the dress will have ties still.

5) I got into lolita in a really difficult time in my life. As is often the case with serious chronic mental illness, mine developed when I was in my very early 20's, which was right after I decided to get into lolita fashion. I really want to make a dress with the words, "Live through this and you won't look back," on it, but i've never had the right time or design to do it. 6) I love looking through old lolita blogs. I love looking at tutorials from 2007. I love how much of the more early western lolita scene is archived on livejournal. I love the privacy of lolita discord and the safety it's offered, but I always hope that people will archive tutorials somewhere public for the future generations. 7) I have a werid amount of guilt around the fact that I bought an embroidery machine a year ago and still haven't ever made a border print on it. I make a lot of patches but I've never done a border embroidery. 8) One of my favorite archived lolita things is the argument over that BTSSB flower crown and the person who kept insisting that she be given the contact info of a stranger who bought it so that they could ask it to be sold to them. 9) I think that most of the time when someone says that a dress doesn't look good without the waist ties that, if you dig into what they say, they hate fat people. Maybe this isn't true anymore, but it used to go hand in hand.

10) I spend a lot of time on this blog waiting for everyone to realize that i'm a giant asshole and to leave me alone. I'm grateful for everyone who is willing to stick around even when I say stuff like #9. I love how people are willing to come and tell me that they're glad there's a lolita tumblr that's still highly active, and that I've helped them. I went from doing this blog for me, specifically to give myself an excuse to make more lolita fashion, to being able to tailor posts to the needs of other people and a general audience. I have been going through some additional shit recently, and I didn't have enough time to do both this and my youtube channel, and we can see which one I picked.

Bonus thing: 11) I really want to figure otu how to do a stage transformation dress (cinderella dress) in lolita. The magic of somehow going from old school gothic to ott sweet or something would be so cool, even though it couldn't actually happen like it does in my mind.

Anyway, y'all let me know if you'd rather I stick to normal content and do the rest of this on my personal blog. BTW @handcraftedplumbingnightmares is my personal blog, if anyone wants it.

[fics-n-stuff-n-stuff]

Natsu Dragneel/Lucy Heartfilia

Gray Fullbuster/Juvia Lockser

Levy McGarden/Gajeel

all fairy tail characters basically -

Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic /

Follows Fairy tail, but with my own twists set in modern day

/ Fluff and Angst / Romance / Friendship / developing feelings / Lucy has new spirits I checked constellations and gave her ones I thought were cool

Summary

Lucy is thrown into a world she didn’t know existed. Join her as she unravels this new world full of magic that brings adventure, romance and destruction along with it.

———

Just a modern re-telling of Fairy tail following its arcs with a few twists and turns along the way💞

You can also read it here-

———————————————

Chapter 3

Lucy spent some time just crying and trying to calm herself down, cradling the golden key close to her chest.

"Why don't you go downstairs, find Mira, and she can give your guild mark, we can handle the rest of the paperwork at a later time. I think these past few days have been taxing for you." The Master spoke after a few minutes, once her crying subsided.

Lucy nodded offering the man a small strained smile, standing up she made her way to the door before stopping with her hand on the handle and turned around to face the man once more.

"I would appreciate it if my past and last name stayed between us, I'm not ready for anyone to know."

Lucy said a little apprehensive and the old man gave her a firm nod, waving his hand dismissively in the air.

"No need to worry my dear, we don't pry here at Fairy Tail. When and if you are ready to talk about your past, know that we're here for you."

Giving the old man a  more genuine smile she thanked him and left the office. Closing the door behind her, Lucy paused for a moment and rested her back on the door.

Taking a few deep breaths to center herself, still reeling from her newfound memories.

Memories of her mother, and the spirits they both loved.

Lucy knew her father was a cruel man, but she never thought he'd be able to surprise her with his behavior.

This should be a lesson not to underestimate him, not that she did in the first place, but this is a whole new ballpark.

'To think he's known about magic this whole time.'

A loud crash echoed through the guild, pulling her from her thoughts.

Focusing her attention, Lucy could hear the bustle of a crowd coming from downstairs, indicating that she was in the office with the Master for a while.

Shoulders back and head held high Lucy made her way back down the stairs.

She couldn't see Wendy, but she did spot Levy sitting at a different table than this morning, she was explaining something to the two men who were sitting at her side, looking thoroughly confused.

One had an orange ponytail and was wearing a purple shirt, that in Lucy's opinion clashed with his hair.

The other was a black-haired man, with one piece of his hair sticking out and curling above his head.

Lucy smiled and waved at Levy as she passed her table, the blue-haired girl smiled at her before going back to her explanation.

Nearing the bar, Lucy could see that the girl that was drinking this morning was now surrounded by two empty barrels, and was currently drinking her third.

'Is she even human?' Lucy thought in disbelief.

Looking around, she could see people scattered along the tables of the guild.

Most were drinking, eating, and talking amongst themselves, having fun, and enjoying each other's company.

While others seemed to be brawling in the back corner of the building, there was a mass of limbs and bodies entwined, magic flashing as blows were exchanged.

There was a raised platform of sorts on the right side, with what looked like a bulletin board, papers pinned to it with a few people gathered around.

She spotted Mirajane behind the bar and went straight to her.

"Hello Mirajane" Lucy greeted the girl, sitting on one of the barstools.

"Oh, Hello Lucy. Call me Mira, please, everyone does. Now tell me did your talk with the master go well? Are you hungry? I can have Lis cook you something if you are." The girl asked Lucy, fretting over the girl.

Lucy was stunned for a moment. Not used to people caring about her and not being employed to do so. She looked at the girl in front of her and gave her a small, almost shy smile.

"The talk went well, thank you for asking. He actually sent me down here to find you so you can give me my guild mark."

Lucy told her, and the smile on Mira's face widened, clapping her hands together in joy the white-haired woman jumped at Lucy's words.

"Oh that's wonderful, I was hoping he would ask you to join. Let me just get the stamp." And before Lucy could say anything Mira was off.

Left to her own devices, Lucy started thinking about what she was supposed to do now that she agreed to join Fairy Tail and learn more about her magic.

Where was she supposed to live? She should go and look for a job, despite her bad luck a couple of days back, she's sure she can find something to at least pay for a down payment for an apartment.

She just hoped she wouldn't need to use her emergency savings.

"Hi, you must be Lucy." A soft voice brought her out of her thoughts, looking up Lucy saw the short-haired girl that was helping Mira behind the bar this morning.

She was looking at Lucy with a smile on her face, and as they made eye contact she continued talking.

"I'm Lisanna, Mira's younger sister. It's nice to meet you" She held out her hand for Lucy to shake.

Taking her hand Lucy smiled back at the girl. "Yes, hi. It's nice to meet you as well. You and Mira look alike."

Lisanna waved off her statement "It's just the hair, our brother Elfman has white hair too, it's a Strauss thing." She said with a shrug and pointed out the tall, muscular white-haired man that was laughing at something happening across the bar.

When she got a better look, Lucy realized it was the same man that Natsu hit with the chair last night.

"Oh yeah, I can see that. It's actually kind of cool, like, I've never seen so many unique hair colours that are natural before." Lucy answered looking back at Lisanna.

"You'll come to see that's a staple of our world. Not all, but a good majority have unique hair colours. I could say you fit in the category as well. I've never seen hair that looks so much like gold before, it's really beautiful." Mira's voice joined the conversation as she walked behind the bar, setting down a large stamp.

Lucy blushed a little at her compliment. 

"Thank you." She muttered, feeling shy all of a sudden.

"Oh isn't she just the cutest?" Mira asked Lisanna when she noticed her blush, making Lucy even more red in the face.

"She sure is sis. I'll leave you to it then, I just wanted to say hello, need to get back to the kitchen and finish up some orders. Bye Lucy, welcome to Fairy Tail!" Lisanna said with a giggle, and Lucy waved at the girl as she walked away.

"I have the stamp, now, tell me where would you like your guild mark to be, and what colour?" Mira asked, holding the stamp up, and raising a brow at her.

Lucy looked back at Mira and thought about what colour she would want permanently on her body, and was about to ask the girl if she could change it once it was on if she didn't like it when she heard a loud crash and a familiar voice yell.

"Ya're gonna pay for that ya ice prick."

Turning her head, she spotted him easily.

He was in the back where she earlier saw people fighting, he had flames wrapping around his whole body and was charging at a  man with midnight black hair, who seemed to be only his boxers for some reason.

Turning back to look at Mira she was about to ask what the hell that was about.

"Don't worry about them, they fight like that all the time, it's harmless. They're just lucky Erza is out on a job or she would have their heads." Mira told her and Lucy nodded her head.

"It's good to know they won't bring down the building, but I was actually going to ask about the guy in his boxers?" Lucy said making Mira laugh.

"Well, that's debatable. " The other girl muttered to herself "And as for the 'stripper' as Natsu so eloquently calls him, that is Gray.

He uses Ice Magic, he claims that the person who taught him magic made him strip every day to his boxers so he could learn to endure the cold, and the habit stuck." She shrugged her shoulders and then added as if an afterthought.

"If he ever starts stripping near you, do not hesitate to hit him." Mira told her with a devilish smile.

"Huh, I don't know whether that makes sense or not." Lucy replied honestly, looking over her shoulder at the two brawling men.

She could see fire and ice mixing in a blur of attacks and could feel heat followed by gusts of cold when they exchanged blows.

Then she saw a flash of pink in all the chaos.

Lucy looked down in her lap, and traced the back of her left hand, looking back up at Mira she held out the hand to her with a smile.

"Could you make it pink?" She tried to be nonchalant, but Mirajane just gave her a knowing look before nodding her head.

She took Lucy's offered hand and pressed the stamp to the back of it.

There was a slight tingle when the stamp made contact with her skin, it was a different sensation to her own magic, but it made her feel safe, protected, even.

Mira applied pressure for a few seconds before lifting it to reveal a pink fairy with a tail on the back of Lucy's hand.

"I love it!" Lucy said, turning her hand for Mira to see. "It suits you." The older girl answered with a smile.

Lucy was about to ask Mira if she knew where she could find an apartment or any kind of job when a warm arm draped over her shoulder, making her jump slightly.

"Luce, why didn'tya tell me you were done talking to the old man!" Natsu interrupted her inquiry as he appeared next to her.

She relaxed knowing it was Natsu and answered. "I didn't even see you when I got down here, you said you'd wait for me at the bar, so I came to the bar." She shrugged her shoulders, not knowing what to think of the current contact between them.

She didn't mind, Natsu was warm and his presence somehow had an almost calming effect on Lucy.

It's just the way she was raised. It was not 'proper'. But Lucy never cared much for proper, to begin with.

It had been installed in her since she was little, and she ran away so she could just be normal, just be Lucy.

That's what she was to Natsu, so she let him keep his arm over her shoulder. The pink-haired man looked at her with a bashful smile, hand rubbing his neck in a sign of embarrassment.

"Ya took too long and I started to get bored after Mira told me I couldn't eat anymore or there won't be food left for everyone else, so I went to pick a fight with the stripper." He said with a small shrug making Lucy giggle.

He was ridiculous.

"I'm sure it was hard to wait so long." Lucy teased poking his side with her finger. "Sorry, I kept you waiting."

He shrugged it off, turning to Mira, who was mixing a drink for someone as she pretended not to listen in on their conversation.

"Hey Mira, can ya get me some fire whiskey when you can?" The white-haired girl gave him a nod.

He sat down at the bar next to Lucy.

"By the way, look-" Lucy held up the back of her left hand to show him her new guild mark a wide smile on her face "I'm a part of Fairy Tail!"

Natsu looked at her hand, then back at her, and let out a small scoff.

"Of course, you're a part of Fairy Tail, why'd ya think I brought ya here?" He said as if it were obvious, making Lucy feel warm on the inside.

"Where is here, by the way? I have a storage room with all my belongings that I have to clean out by Friday, what day is it anyway?"

Lucy asked she arrived in Hargeon on Sunday morning, and she was not sure how much time she spent unconscious after her attack.

"It's Tuesday ya weirdo. And we're in Magnolia. That's where Fairy Tail is!" Natsu told her and Lucy gaped at him, mouth slightly open.

"Gods I lost two days, and how are we in Magnolia?"

"Well, when I kicked that thing's ass and saw ya bleedin' out I called Mira for a portal and brought ya here." He shrugged casually.

Lucy felt a headache coming, she was reeling from all the information she had received in the past two days, getting ten hears of locked memories back and now she finds out portals are apparently, a thing.

Because why wouldn't they be in a world where a man can light himself on fire? How is that any less weird?

"And don't call me a weirdo!" She said suddenly, hitting him on the back of his head as she remembered that he's called her that twice now.

Natsu rubbed the back of his head, turning to look at her with a slight pout.

"Whatcha do that for Luce, it hurt." He asked

"I told you why, don't call me a weirdo. Or Luigi, for that matter." She muttered the last part, but he seemed to have heard as he let out a slight laugh.

"But you are a weirdo." He shot back, and at her glare decided to change the topic.

"So I can call ya Luce then?" He asked suddenly taking Lucy off guard.

"You can call me Luce." She managed to say in a somewhat neutral tone, trying and partially failing to hide her blush.

"Cool, so what did take you and Gramps so long anyway?" He beamed at her, genuinely curious, moving to take the shot of whiskey in front of him.

"Oh, well, I discovered that my dad was the one that bound my magic, he also, he-" A lump formed in Lucy's throat as she tried to get the words out, eyes watering slightly.

She felt a warm hand envelop one of hers and when she looked up at him, Natsu gave her a reassuring squeeze.

Lucy took a deep breath.

"My mother was a mage. She could summon spirits from a different realm, when I was little I used to steal her keys and try to use them." She let out a small laugh, a few tears cascading down her cheeks.

"It would work sometimes, and other times I would just use up a lot of my magic and stop trying."

She remembered how many times she fainted in hopes of keeping opening one of the gates. And how many times her father yelled at her for it.

Clenching the hand that wasn't holding Natsu's she continued.

"They were my friends. They were my mother's friends." Lucy didn't know why she decided to share a part of her story with Natsu, but it made her feel a bit lighter.

"I thought you didn't know anything about magic before today, or yesterday. Or was it Sunday?"

He asked getting lost in the minutiae and making Lucy let out a giggle, shoulders dropping, she relaxed her posture and noticed their hand were still entwined.

She gave his hand a squeeze bringing his focus back to her.

She offered him a small smile "I didn't know about magic until yesterday. Well, I did, my father just decided that what good is it binding my magic, if I could still remember it exists?"

She felt Natsu's body temperature rise at her words, even the air around them was getting hotter, his eyes were glaring at her, but the anger was not directed toward her.

"Are ya tellin' me that your father did this? What kind of fucked up person does something like that to their kid?" He grits out and Lucy's heart swells once more.

"Hey, it's okay. The Master managed to bring my memories back and even gave me one of my mother's keys. Look, this is Aquarius!" She tried to divert his anger and get him to focus on something else.

The key warmed in her hands when she touched it.

His eyes snapped to the key the moment she pulled it out of her pocket. Fixated on it with a strange look on his face.

"Natsu?" Lucy asked snapping his attention to her. "Are you okay?"

Natsu's eyes shot back to the key in her hand inspecting it, before looking back at Lucy with a smile that wasn't as bright as it usually was.

"Yeah, I'm good. That sounds like cool magic to have, are ya gonna summon it here?"  He asked.

"Well, I need water to summon Aquarius, a lake, or a river." Lucy answered, knowing that she could summon the water spirit from a pond, or even a fish bowl or toilet.

But from what she remembered of the water spirit she was mean and scary on a good day. Summoning her for the first time in a place like that would not end well.

'She would try and drown me.' Lucy shuddered at the thought. The key in her hand heated up even more at her thoughts.

"Okay, let's go get your stuff and see what your magic can do!" He said enthusiastically taking her hand and pulling her out of the guild doors before she could even protest.

With a bright flash, they both stumbled out of the door and into an empty street.

Slightly disoriented, Lucy stood straight with Natsu's help, looking around she couldn't see anyone around, it looked like a deserted part of town.

"Uh, where are we exactly?" Lucy asked turning to Natsu, who was dusting himself down.

"This is where I portaled from the other night, we are a few streets from the sea, do ya wanna go check out the key first or get your things ?" He asked her.

"So we're back in Hargeon." Lucy said to herself.

"We can go to the beach first, then we can find something to eat. Sounds good?" Lucy asked and Natsu let out a spew of fire from his mouth

"Yeshh, I'm all fired up now." He took her hand in his and started running in the direction of the beach. Or at least Lucy hoped.

* ********* ********** ********** ********* *

"Are ya gonna do somethin' or are ya gonna stare at it all day?" Natsu's voice broke her staring contest with Aquarius's key, and she turned to look back at him.

They arrived on the beach thirty minutes ago, and ever since Lucy had been standing at the shore, key in hand, frozen.

He was sitting crossed-legged, drawing patterns in the sand.

"Okay, I can do this, you're right."

Bracing herself, Lucy closed her eyes, thinking back to what, and how she felt when summoning her mother's spirits.

She felt her magic flow through her, looking for a way out, she focused on the key in her hand and felt it heat up.

Opening her eyes Lucy saw the key glowing slightly, she put the front in water.

"Open, gate of the water bearer, Aquarius." She exclaimed and felt a drain on her magic as a flash of light brought forward a blue-haired mermaid caring a jug.

She appeared, levitating on a wave of water.

"So cool." Lucy heard Natsu mumble from behind her at the woman's appearance.

"Tch, took you long enough to summon me. I don't have all day for you to make up your mind. I have a hot boyfriend waiting for me you know!" The spirit greeted her and Lucy's heart clenched at the familiar feeling the spirit ignited within her.

She felt tears build up in her eyes.

"I'm sorry, it's just after everything I was a little scared you would be mad at me. How is Scorpio?" Lucy told the spirit, voice cracking a bit.

She could feel warmth at her back and knew Natsu was behind her. He didn't touch her, but his presence brought her comfort.

The spirit's face softened at Lucy's words, shifting the jug in her hands, a splash of water came out and hit Lucy in the face.

"None of it was your fault. You need to get yourself together, build up your strength and learn how to use your magic." Aquarius told her.

Lucy nodded. "I will, I promise. Do, do you know where Mom sent any of the others?" She asked tentatively.

"I know where some of them are, but you will have to figure it out yourself." The woman answered her looking like she wanted to tell, but couldn't.

Lucy started to feel a bit dizzy holding Aquarius's gate open and swayed slightly on her feet. Natsu's hand was around her elbow in an instant, his chest supporting her back.

"Stupid girl. You haven't summoned a spirit in over 10 years and your magic isn't used to the strain yet. Let's make a contract before you pass out, and so I can go and get ready for my date."

* ********* ********** ********** ********* *

After making a contract with Aquarius (She can only summon her three times a week, never on a Saturday. Unless it's an emergency.) 

Natsu and Lucy left the beach to go and find something to eat as it was nearing 4 pm at that point.

"I know this great buffet we can go to, it's all you can eat."  Natsu told her as they walked down the streets of Hargeon.

Lucy was listening to him rant about the amazing food at the diner and was looking around the shop displays as they passed when she saw an ornate silver key in one of the windows.

"Hey, let's go in here for a second, I wanna look at something."

She said to Natsu as she stopped, he pouted at her, clearly wanting to get to the diner as soon as possible but Lucy had to know if this was a summoning key.

"Look, that key has a constellation on it." She pointed out to him and he looked at the display and shrugged.

"Sure, let's check it out." 

Going into the store Lucy could tell it was owned by someone who loved antiques and knew how to care for them.

There were shelves filled with elaborately decorated trinkets, medieval pieces of armor, art, sculptures, and books that looked ancient in their own right

"Good afternoon, welcome to Herondale and Sons, may I assist you in any way?" A blonde-haired young man asked them, coming from behind the counter.

Lucy could feel Natsu's warmth at her back, her shoulder touching his chest.

"Good afternoon, yes I was wondering if I could take a look at the silver key that is in your display?" Lucy asked.

"Certainly, let me get it for you." The man replied politely, moving towards the display and opening it before carefully removing the key from where it is laid out.

Walking back to where they were, he handed the key to Lucy.

"Here you are, let me know if you need anything else."

Lucy took the key from the man with a smile, she felt a tingle when she touched it, not as strong as it was with Aquarius but it confirmed that it was indeed a magic key.

"So, is it the real deal?" Natsu whispered in her ear and Lucy jumped at the sensation of his hot breath on her neck. While not unpleasant, it did catch her off guard.

She managed to hold in a squeak and turned around to hit the back of his head.

"Have you ever heard of personal space? And yes, it is real. So let's go buy it so we can go eat, yeah?"

He was rubbing the back of his, mumbling under his breath but at the mention of food, his head shot up and he beamed at her. "What are we waiting for then?"

* ********* ********** ********** ********* *

After spending an absurd amount of money on the key, they finally made their way to the all-you-can-eat buffet, only to find out Natsu has been banned for life because he cleared the food the last time he was there.

Lucy tried not to laugh at the clearly dejected man, but it was a little funny.

"Come on, screw them, we can find another place to eat, I'll even buy you some dessert." She offered to try to cheer him up.

He turned to her with a wide smile. "I know just the place." And with that, he smiled and pulled her in an unknown direction.

Twenty minutes later, Lucy found herself opposite Natsu, swearing to herself never to eat with the man again.

He ate like it was his last meal and he's been starving for months.

"What's wrong? Don'tcha like the food?" He asked with a mouthful of food and Lucy couldn't help but grimace at the sight.

"No, the food is great. But you eat like an absolute pig, and it's a little unappetizing." She answered honestly making Natsu choke on his food.

Coughing into his hand, he managed to swallow his food and looked back at her.

"Geez, I never thought of that, sorry I was hungry." He looked a bit awkward admitting it and Lucy smiled at him.

"It's okay, just please try to be a little less messy. And don't talk with a full mouth." She said the last part sternly, making him sit up straight and salute her.

"Aye, sir."

Lucy giggled at his actions and started eating.

Natsu let her eat for 2 minutes before he went back to stuffing his face, albeit a little less gross this time around.

As they finished their food they both sat back in the booth.

"That was good food." Natsu said, rubbing his stomach.

"It was. You were right." Lucy told him making him smile. "'Course I was right, I know my food." He puffed out, blowing smoke into her face.

Coughing slightly, Lucy waved her hand in the air trying to get the smoke out of her face.

"Jerk." She muttered, making him laugh at her.

A waiter passed their table, making Lucy remember something she wanted to ask Mira before Natsu interrupted their conversation earlier.

"Hey Natsu, do you know where I could start looking for jobs when we get back to Magnolia?" She asked him.

He turned to look at her like she was crazy.

"I don't have a job, and I don't have any place to live. I can't just stay at the guild and do nothing. I only have so much money saved up."

That was true, before running away she managed to transfer the small amount of her trust fund she was allowed access to when she turned 18.

It was a good amount of money, it helped get her out of Crocus and put a down payment on her first apartment, after that she managed to find jobs and sustain herself and left the money for when shit hits the fan.

She thought that would happen when her father found her, but magical worlds being real works too.

"Why would you need to look for a job? Just work at Fairy Tail." Natsu finally answered her initial question, ignoring the previous rant.

"Oh, I guess I could waitress, or help Mira behind the bar." Lucy said making Natsu groan.

"No that's not what I meant, Levy and Wendy told you how being a guild mage works right?" He asked the last part more quietly.

"Oh you mean like going out and fighting monsters and evil wizards? No, thank you." Lucy told him making him pout at her.

"Oh don't be like that, it'll be fun. I'll even let you pick our first job." He pleaded with her,  giving her the full pouty puppy dog face.

Lucy tried, she really did, but he looked so ridiculous and somehow so cute at the same time.

So she just sighed dramatically, the corners of her mouth lifting slightly.

"Fine, fine. I will go on a job with you."

Natsu whooped at her response, making most of the diner look at their booth, Lucy slid down the leather seats, cheeks red.

'Idiot." She thought fondly to herself as she listened to him ramble on about how they were going to kick ass.

[freelanceexorcist]

So the living room painting/furniture refinishing haul is about 99.9% complete. All I need to do is go pick up some painter's caulk because I found some gaps and cracks that absolutely need to be fixed.

Pic 1: my haul of painting consumables. This living room will become a place where I can stand being in even if it kills me. The only other thing I need to get is painter's caulk because I found some holes and gaps that need to be addressed. Not pictured: the basket of acrylic paints that will probably be used at some point. The half-face respirator came with a bonus pair of goggles, so that's good.

Pic 2: my shiny new paint sprayer and clamps. If this project turns out well, I may try my hand and refinishing furniture. I've never done it before, so I'll be dumpster diving and going to Goodwill to find pieces I can practice on. Wish me luck, please.

I won't be using the paint sprayer indoors for now. Until I can get a good enough handle on it to avoid excessive overspray, I don't want to expose my dog to the fumes and vapors. They don't make half-face respirators small enough for her and she'd start WWIII to avoid having to wear one even if they did.

Anyway, right now I need to redo the living room. The kitchen is next and when the time comes, I'll be sanding down all of the cabinets and drawers. I'll repaint the top cabinets white but picking a darker gray/brown color for the bottom ones. The kitchen table is gonna go. It's too old and busted for me to refurbish based on the skills I have now, and I have nowhere to store it until I get those skills. The chairs are going too, but I'm keeping at least one to practice on later. If it turns out OK, I'll give it to one of my neighbors. I'm in no position to ask for money at this point.

I may become a viable furniture flipper one day, but it won't be this one.

[designbydeborah1]

Tips to Refurbish Antique Furniture

When faced with the daunting task of refurbishing your antique furniture, it can be hard to know where to start. Even if you have a lot of experience with woodwork and carpentry projects, working on old pieces can be tricky because they often require special care. This is why it’s essential to take your time when refurbishing antiques so that you don't damage any original features or waste money on unnecessary repairs. In this blog post, I'll show you how to refurbish antique furniture correctly - by learning from my mistakes! Here are some critical tips you may want to follow: 1. Get to Know its History Knowing the history of a piece of furniture is crucial before you start working on it. This will help you determine what kind of refinishing is necessary and give you an idea of what it might look like when finished. Some pieces have specific stories attached to them, while others may have been used in homes across the country or worldwide. Knowing where they came from allows you to change their appearance without changing their story. 2. Decide on a Style When refurbishing antique furniture, it's essential to consider the style of the piece. Think about whether you want a formal look or a more casual one. Do you want to keep the original style or change it? Some pieces are best left in their original state. Others could benefit from a coat of paint or some new fabric. Be sure not to choose colors that wouldn't work well with your home décor. 3. Be Safe (Watch Out for Lead) You might be interested to know that you first have to clean it before you can even think about painting your old furniture. And as much as we'd like to live in a world where cleaning means opening up a window and hosing down our possessions with some soap suds, the truth is that most furniture needs more than just a scrub down. However, there is another potential problem when dealing with antiques: lead paint contamination. Lead toxicity occurs when small particles of lead get into your bloodstream through inhalation or ingestion. Lead poisoning can also cause problems for unborn babies, so pregnant women should take extra care when handling any refurbish antique furniture projects. 4. Inspect for Damage Next, inspect the piece for damage. Check for cracks, chips, or breaks in the furniture and drawers. It would help if you also looked over the hinges, handles, and other moving parts to ensure they are intact. Finally, inspect the wood for warping (a sign of dry rot) as well as cracks or other signs of damage caused by water damage. 5. Choose Your Tools Appropriately Older furniture tends to be made from higher-quality materials. That means you need tools that match the ingredients of the antiques. This might require you to visit a local hardware store to have everything laid out and ready to go when you start. 6. Find the Right Supplies Get creative with your design choices. One of the best things about refurbishing antique furniture is that there's no one right way to do it—you can be as creative as you want! Try adding personal touches like paint color or patterns on cushions if there's room for more decoration in this section of your home. Perhaps even use different materials for each piece, so each piece has its own character. 7. Take Your Time & Maintain the History Taking on a project like refurbishing an antique piece is no easy feat, so staying patient and keeping your head up is important. The restoration process can be long and tedious, but if you maintain a level head throughout it all, you will be successful in restoring your antique furniture pieces back to their former glory. If any parts of the process seem overwhelming or intimidating, don’t hesitate to seek help from knowledgeable friends or family members who may have more experience in this area than you. Conclusion You can also save yourself some money by refinishing the piece yourself. Or you are welcome to browse my shop of vintage and antique pieces. I love to transform donated items to refurbish antique furniture, so new life and character are developed that tell a unique story. I hope you feel this same sense of joy when you purchase one of my pieces or decide to refurbish your own!

[iviarellereads]

The Dragon Reborn, Chapter 19 - Awakening

(THIS PROJECT IS SPOILER FREE! No spoilers past the chapter you click on. Curious what I'm doing here? Read this post! For the link index and a primer on The Wheel of Time, read this one! Like what you see? Send me a Ko-Fi.)

(Dice icon)(1) In which it's time to meet someone for real.

PERSPECTIVE: Mat.

Mat opened his eyes slowly and stared up at the white plaster ceiling, wondering where he was and how he had come there. An intricate fringe of gilded leaves bordered the ceiling, and the mattress under his back felt plumped full of feathers. Somewhere rich, then. Somewhere with money. But his head was empty of the where and the how, and a lot more besides.

He remembers bits and pieces, but they feel more like a story or a dream than reality. People from across the ocean, Ogier, Portal Stones, he knows it must be real enough but it doesn't feel like it.(2) He murmurs an Old Tongue phrase, and is bowled over with a memory of a battle in the Trolloc Wars. He trembles, and thinks how Moiraine taught him a few words in the Old Tongue, but the rest might as well be birdsong. Probably isn't even really the Old Tongue. Just gibberish.(3)

Mat sits up, weak as a newborn lamb. He struggles to his feet, and makes his way slowly to a mirror behind a washstand. He looks gaunt and wasted. He sees a food tray, and removes the cloth covering it all. He expects broth, but there's roast beef, potatoes, onions, cabbage, pickles, cheese, bread... one pitcher is filled with milk, and another with spiced wine. There's enough to serve four men, and he's ravenous, but all he takes is a slice of beef and goes to look out the window. It takes him a minute to realize he must be in Tar Valon, and he thinks about how it means the One Power was used on him. Better than dying, and it's done now, no use worrying about it. He goes back to the table, and while he eats he thinks about his choppy memories, and how he can turn his current situation into an advantage.

He has a fancy of gambling some merchants out of their coin, buying passage on a ship, maybe he could go see Caemlyn or Cairhien again, he remembers almost nothing of them. He wonders if the Aes Sedai would let him have the ruby from the dagger, decides it's probably tainted, but daydreams about it anyway. Thinks about going home with it and buying a farm... though that's a less appealing prospect than ever, now. He had once wanted to own a farm and be known as his father's equal as a horse trader, but now that feels like a small thing to want, with the whole wide world waiting.(4)

He decides he has to see Nyn and Egg, maybe they'll have given up the foolishness of becoming Aes Sedai. A day to see the city, a game with dice to pad out his purse, and then he'd go find a city with no Aes Sedai. He'll go home someday, but he wants to see at least something of the world, and remember it this time.

Then he looks down and realizes he's eaten the whole of the meal that had been laid out.(5) As he licks his fingers, he remembers that he blew the Horn of Valere.

Verin had been bringing the Horn to Tar Valon, but he could not remember if she knew he was the one who had blown it. She had never said anything to make him think so. He was sure of that. He thought he was. So what if she does know? What if they all do? Unless Verin did something with it I don’t know about, they have the Horn. They don’t need me. But who could say what Aes Sedai thought they needed? “If they ask,” he said grimly, “I never even touched it. If they know. . . . If they know, I’ll . . . I’ll handle that when it comes. Burn me, they can’t want anything from me. They can’t!” A soft knock on the door brought him swaying to his feet, ready to run. If there had been any place to run to, and if he could have managed more than three steps. But there was not, and he could not. The door opened.

=====

(1) A new one. What could it mean? We've been told Mat can be particularly lucky at dice games before, and this IS his first perspective… but what could dice mean for his character and his arc in the series? (2) He's been affected since Shadar Logoth, so any memories since then would have come through the haze of the dagger's influence. And, even things from before then perhaps. (3) He seems to be used to putting himself down and tamping his excitement. He's the trickster of the trio, how many people in his life have told him to cool it when he leapt to exciting but baseless conclusions? He has no way to know these Old Tongue quotes are verified. But what could that weird memory have meant? It did mention dice tossing, gambling, and luck per the chapter icon, after all. And he had a flickering of it before he ever touched the dagger, he yelled that war cry at the Trollocs that the others picked up and repeated, before Moiraine's condition required the stop in Shadar Logoth. (4) It's fine to have ambitions that keep you in the family business. They just don't tend to lead you to the outside world of adventure and greatness. How many of us were told to choose more sensible goals when we wanted to dream big? (5) He's been magically ill for, what, about a year at this stage? And then the Healing, which despite the quantity of power used, still probably used some of his own dwindling resources to fuel whatever the separation required. He's got quite a bit of energy usage to make up for.

[kinocomix]

update, I wrote a string quartet

one of the pieces of music i wrote for my second ongoing project. a handwritten version of this sheet music will be featured in the comic. in the story, it's written by a very smart 10 year old who's dumb as a brick at everything else.

the midi instruments sound a bit wonky, but the spirit is there. maybe one day it'll be played by actual strings, who knows.

I'm still waiting for the beta readers, in the meantime I'm in the last stretch of writing the book with killouette. I also may have rage committed to a future project after "Trash, the dog who saved the word" after a conversation with a friend...

The minotaur is a sloppily written story and I’m fixing it, fuck you Andrew 

Part 1: the plot holes and logical fallacies as present in the canonical narrative

As you may know, Asterius is the less used way of referring to the minotaur, a creature that's half bull half man. The story of the minotaur as present in canon has some unexplained holes in it, they are detailed below this image:

First, the elephant in the room is the issue of accountability. assuming Pasiphae was successfully able to hide her sexual attraction to a bull, which while weird is not that difficult a task to accomplish, the issue still stands as to Daedalus not questioning the king’s wife’s desire to fornicate with a bull, adding to that the fact that no one questioned why this man was making a life size hollowed out wooden cow, with a hole where the reproductive organs would be and no doubt some pillows and handles on the inside. Any answers obtained here are entirely conjecture on behalf of the reader, but one might say perhaps the two were planning something long term for example, this would be a more interesting answer to give than them being stupid.

Second is the issue of Pasiphae “nursing” the child, this being followed up with a description of the child “[growing] in size and [becoming] ferocious”. it is to be noted here that there is at no point a number specified regarding the age of the child in years”. A possible conjecture here is to operate based on what we know from animals in the real world: most animals grow at a rate much faster than human children grow. While size does tend to plateau earlier for something like a bull or a dog, it wouldn’t be unreasonable to assume that a theoretical hybrid child would grow in size at a rate far superior to normal human children. Given that the narrative clearly describes the minotaur as being able bodied, it wouldn’t be unreasonable to assume it inherited the best of the father’s physical traits. So while for example the child would be one year old, it would possibly have the appearance and physical traits of a 5 year old, possibly even more, up to 10. Another conjecture of note is the mother “nursing” the child. It's already abundantly clear from her lack of reason and reaction to falling in love with a bull being to consummate her feelings instead of… well… anything else that she was not gifted with a double digit amount of neurons. so posit this: a new mother is confronted with a problematic child. 

her husband clearly doesn’t approve of the child’s existence given that it’s not his, a bull’s no less. This must obviously create a stressful environment, clouding her already problematic judgment. 

this child behaves in unexpected ways, perhaps they have more difficulty comprehending spoken language than normal kids for example. This must also create a barrier between her and the ability to connect with her child.

adding to that the -alleged- sensibilities of the time, alienating the child for its weird appearance and behavior. actions are very influenced by culture and upbringing. 

given all of this information, it would be safe to assume the mother did not, in fact, “nurse” the child. the child was very possibly neglected and potentially abused, which leads to my final point:

It is mentioned that the minotaur has no natural source of nourishment and thus can only eat humans. setting aside that this does not fit into the pre-established logic of the mythology the character inhabits, i.e. non natural creatures being able to get their nourishment from several places and/or different types of flesh, this is quite frankly lazy writing. This is further supported by the fact that both bulls and humans can subside off of vegetables.

Therefore, I would like to put forward the following:

Part 2: how i’m fixing it

as part of a greater plot to get theseus to the throne, an oracle told Pasiphae that in order to set up the events that would lead to his ascension, she needed to fool king Minos into thinking she cursed by god, and that she would need to give birth to a half bull, half man child that would be named Asterius. Poseidon, seeing his name being tarnished, gave the unborn child wisdom beyond the ages that would show itself when the time was right.

Asterius was born with less mental faculties due to the fact that he’s a hybrid. given his mother’s pension for being a complete failure as a parent and his father’s practical inexistence briefly punctuated by abuse, Asterius was seen as a monster; less than human. At less than a year old, Asterius was thrown into the labyrinth, forced to subside off of eating whoever ventured in. 

spoiler for the entire story beyond this point

The story starts with an elderly woman named Thera, daughter of Peftis wandering into a cave. She's a herbalist and healer by profession. Having grown up a humble farmer she learned to make the best of the land, and always carries seeds to spread Demeter’s blessings wherever they are welcome. unbeknownst to her, she has wandered into an opening that leads into Daedalus’s labyrinth. Inside, she’s lost for days but does not experience hunger or thirst. A vision reveals to her that she would die protecting an adopted child, who goes forth to bring about an age of peace.

a little shook, she thanks the gods for watching over her and continues to wander the wide labyrinth in search of an exit. She runs into a massive creature covered in blood and viscera. In her panic, she trips and drops a loaf of bread. frozen in fear, she watches as the creature picks up the loaf and smells it, its bloodsoaked fur glinting in the afternoon sun. it begins to eat it right in front of her before running away. Time passes as Thera reflects on her encounter, wondering why the creature was more interested in the bread than harming her. That night, she hears a voice calling out to her from the dark with simple, broken language. it is the creature, struggling to speak with its inhuman mouth. 

From that moment on, the story talks about Thera and the beast, who introduces itself as Asterius. Asterius reveals to Thera that a vision of grand waters and marine creatures spoke to it years ago, and that it saw, thought and felt things it had never before. it knows not to harm others, yet sometimes the hunger is too loud. Thera offers Asterius another load of bread and notices decorative sea shells have appeared on her satchel. Slowly but surely over the course of several months, the two learn more about each other. Thera teaches Asterius about planting and farming, in return Asterius shares the hidden wisdom it had acquired during its years in the maze. The story culminates in the two having to run from a man called Theseus, now that the creature no longer needs to kill to survive. In that moment, Thera remembers her vision from all those months ago, as divine magic transforms her into a creature similar to Asterius. The two have some time to share a goodbye before Thera sacrifices herself, pretending to be the savage beast the hunter seeks. The man called Theseus takes her head as a trophy, and where her body lies a lush flower bush with softly glowing flowers grows. as Asterius grieves, a voice bellows from the bush, as a door opens bringing with it ocean breeze and a the scent of a thousand roses:

“RISE, WAYWARD SON OF THERA.  FROM DUST TO DIAMOND, FROM DIAMOND TO WRATH, THE ROAR OF THE COSMOS CALLS FORTH, OH CHAMPION OF THE SEA. YOUR TIME HAS YET TO COME, HUMBLE ONE. POWER BE UPON THEE, POWER BE UPON THEE”

Part 3: themes

destiny, mental disability, racism, ableism, compassion, humility, patience (to name a few)

[joeabdelsater2]

D'Adda's Ghibli-Style Mountain Village - Part 1

This post will explore the work done by Lara D'Adda, a 26-year-old art student at Howest DAE in Belgium. She shares her journey from fine arts to her new passion for 3D art, particularly in environment creation. She presents her most recent creation, the Stylized Mountain Village, which demonstrates her passion for creating landscapes evocative of Ghibli films. I find the breakdown of her process with this project exciting, particularly modelling and texturing, as I am looking to achieve a similar level of artistry in the future.

D'Adda's success depended on thorough planning and preparation. Before beginning the production process, she picked a concept art as a reference for her art and spent significant time evaluating it and finding the necessary assets and resources. The task was to dissect and understand the various components of her environment and what techniques she could use to create it. This initial phase, while admittedly messy and subject to change, served as a vital roadmap for the project's execution, providing her with a solid basis to ensure her vision had accuracy and clarity.

The artist moved on to the blockout stage after her planning phase, which was a critical step in realising her vision. When faced with the problem of reproducing a large town in a landscape that has height differences, Lara used a combination of simple blockouts for structures, and basic boxes for the terrain, an approach similar to ones I've analysed in previous blog posts. She says that this technique enabled her to imagine the arrangement of the scene, playing with angles, and height positions to capture the basic look of her concept. Furthermore, she saved fixed camera locations, allowing her to build main views and adjust her scene accordingly.

To set an initial ambiance and mood, Lara used a basic lighting setup that included a skylight with an HDRI and a directional light. This helped not only to supplied illumination, but also lay the platform for further lighting adjustments, ensuring a cohesive light and colour tone for the environment. Then the post-planning stage followed through, where she handled the modelling step systematically, starting with the design of numerous general components that would serve as the basis for the village houses. Drawing inspiration from the concept, Lara chose to create assets that can be constructed modularly, using beams to form several sets of walls, a practical and efficient solution. This sped up the modeling process, and gave her the freedom to effortlessly exchange pieces when needed, increasing the overall flexibility of the objects.

The size and pivot of the walls and windows were standardised, ensuring continuity and cohesiveness throughout the production of the scene. This simple detail not only made modifications easier, but it also added to the buildings' overall visual coherence in terms of proportion which is a main factor of good composition. Lara used a smart way to create the roofs as well, starting with a flat plane mesh and then carefully adding extruded tiles to give more volume and geometry to them. Similarly, she used the same method to increase the three-dimensionality of the brick walls and chimneys, by inserting single bricks into the wall plane to create shadows and depth. I like this type of mixed approach since it helped keep the assets optimised while faking a complex mesh topology.

Initially, Lara struggled with the overwhelming task of organising the texturing process. Nonetheless, drawing inspiration from tutorials and her own creative ideas, she turned to Substance 3D Designer where she built basic materials for plaster, bricks, and roofing, which helped establish a uniform style that would be portrayed in the entire village environment. After importing her materials into Unreal Engine, she began developing master materials to maintain the uniformity and flexibility she had previously set. Lara's technique revolved around the use of blend nodes and masks in UE to give her materials some depth and complexity, a method I have yet to learn. Blend Overlay and noise textures were used to add subtle colour and texture variations, which contributed to believability and authenticity.

One unique feature of Lara's approach was her emphasis on reusability and efficiency. By multiplying instances for the various houses and using a modular approach to shader generation, she gained better productivity without losing visual identity. Furthermore, her attention to detail extended to the incorporation of moss, a minor element that helped create a rustic natural beauty in the village. Using a gradient from the bottom to the top of each mesh and noise textures for variation, Lara created a realistic depiction of moss development, a technique that is also used for grass and other types of foliage in games.

Reference:

Lara D'adda. (2023). Making a Ghibli-Inspired Mountain Village in Unreal Engine 5. 80.lv [e-journal] Available at: https://80.lv/articles/making-a-ghibli-inspired-mountain-village-in-unreal-engine-5/

[doughisaur]

This was originally uploaded to DeviantArt on July 27, 2023 and FurAffinity on October 1, 2023. The original description from the DeviantArt upload is below.

"Perfect day to relax on the beach, right guys?"

It's the middle of July in Aunov, which means the height of summer has arrived. It's the hottest time of year, the brightest and longest the sun is out. Folks are staying inside as much as possible in the air conditioning, in pools, or as we see our quartet, at the beach. We find Cinnamon, Cookie, and Mac all enjoying themselves on this summer equinox along the southern Aunova shores, basking in the sun as they all share a conversation and relax. Cherry, on the other handpaw, seems to have found himself volunteering (or being volun-told) to be Cookie's beach towel. But can you really be upset at that? You get free hugs from him!

This is perhaps one of my favorite drawings that I've done in a long time. Originally, I planned to participate in Art Fight this year; I had planned to be on vacation for the entire month of July as early as last year to spend it with my boyfriend, and found the timing to be perfect to jump in. However, I was pretty sidetracked with taking care of Grandma's house, work, and preparing for my trip throughout May and June, and for two weeks on vacation, I still couldn't fight off art block. That is, until I decided to resurface an old sketch I had done in February 2021, which was meant for a new character reference. I was pretty happy with the pose (until I ran out of page space again), but felt that it would work better for something different, and converted it into this. Originally, this picture was going to be just Cookie. However, through conversations and ideas posed by my friends on Discord, it then became involving Mac, which then also became involving Cinnamon, and then also getting Cherry in here somehow. With the exception of Cherry, everyone in this picture was drawn from scratch, using bits and pieces from other sketches and drawings to get the right angles that I wanted. I spent all of Friday, July 14 coloring Cookie; most of Tuesday, July 18 sketching Mac and Cinnamon respectively, and then all of Wednesday, July 19 coloring them both and creating the background along with altering old art of Cherry to make him appear flat.

This is perhaps one of the largest pictures I've also ever made, coming in at 15,000 × 10,000, and that's really just a side effect of the canvas sizes I draw on. But it also ended up being this way because I was including three full-body characters in the same frame. If you couldn't tell, I really enjoy drawing full-body. Still, it's a reminder that in the future, I really should draw on smaller canvases and color on smaller canvases as well. That, or just start learning how to color on the iPad only. Shoutout to LilArrin and his custom PC for handling this mammoth project that didn't need to be this way, it handled the whole process so flawlessly that my iMac back home would've screamed trying to handle a canvas this size. But I love the way it came out, I loved drawing everyone in this picture, especially Mac. Sure, he doesn't wear much already, so that gave me the opportunity to come up with a summer outfit, and it's a good thing Beach Koopas are a thing because that was the perfect base to work with. Turn his glasses into sunglasses, give him a tank top and sandals and design both it and his beach towel with circuitry. Man, I love this look, I really wanna try and incorporate it into a new look for him sometime. Cinnamon was also a ton of fun to draw, it was just a bit harder with the angle she was in, and that includes her skirt.

Anyway, thanks for looking! I hope everyone's been able to enjoy their summer! ☀️

[funeralbelle]

hiya!! I was wondering if you were able to (please) gif kathryn hahn from mrsfletcher, since you've already got the episodes available? or at least be able to help me find where I may download it? thank you, have a lovely day.

Hi!!!! thanks for the ask i'm sorry im totally about to let you down.

my computer only has like 45gb of space in total so i basically delete everything as soon as i finish capping it and do not have the footage anymore. ⚰️ i use vuze and get my torrents off of rarbg if that helps you. this is the one i used but if your computer has a bigger stomach than my anemic skinny legend laptop you can get the 1080p version here. i use potplayer to get screencaps.. i'm gonna say this is the tutorial i used but i feel like it might've been a tutorial on jaifkncourtney's blog instead. i would tell you that if you have any questions about making gifs you are welcome to ask me but i'm gonna be honest with you i am completely winging everything at all times and really don't know how anything works

[minsyal]

The Fugitive: Finding Home, Pt. 2

Karl Heisenberg x Reader

Warnings: strong language, Resident Evil-esque violence and descriptions of gore, and dark/sexual themes

Summary: A once-in-a-lifetime trip turned dark. You're quickly exposed to the sinister and mysterious world of a cursed village under the control of dark leaders. How long will you last and will you ever return home in one piece?

The Fugitive: Finding Home Masterlist

Part 1 - The Beginning

“Mother Miranda, I’ve been requesting new maids for at least six months to this day.”

“That’s because you keep eating your other ones.”

You were shaken awake.

“I think that my castle would be best suited for her.”

“Oh, so you can bleed ‘er dry? You think that would really be the best use of anyone’s time?” A familiar voice retorted.

“Good morning!” A shrill voice squeaked as what felt like wood kicked at your face. “She’s up! She’s up! She’s up!” It exclaimed excitedly with a bounce, the voice became softer as the skittering of feet scrambled away.

“Ah,” the unfamiliar smooth woman’s voice cooed as your eyes adjusted to your surroundings. There were what looked to be six figures in the room. Miranda stood before you, perched upon a stage-like area that once housed what you could only imagine was a priest or preacher. To the left sat a cloaked woman with a blob of white resting in her lap. Another woman, also adorned in a white garb, sat towering over the rest, the light constant trickle of smoke danced upward from her vintage cigarette holder. On your right sat a familiar face, the man from the village who had saved you only a few hours prior. You’d come to know him as Lord Heisenberg. He maintained the large woman’s gaze, but the look held no love or any remote sense of familial belonging. Instead, his eyes were set ablaze, even behind the shaded rims of his glasses. Lastly, a shorter creature with a large hunched back moved ungracefully around. Its long gangly arms accompanied by its deformed face only aided in the growing unease.

The dull ache of your shoulder only distracted you from the bindings of your wrists for a moment. Your attention was quickly drawn to the rough ropes that dug their thorny threads into the soft skin of your wrists. Everything ached, mentally and physically.

“I do think she would be best suited with me.” The tall woman repeated herself. “There’s no doubt Moreau wouldn’t be able to handle her, and likely not the rest of you either.”

The hunched creature whirled back, throwing a forlornly glare in the woman’s direction. You supposed that was Moreau.

“You think I couldn’t handle her?” Heisenberg shot back, bent forward to rest his weight on his heels. His relationship with the large woman was clearly tumultuous given his outburst and her subsequent reaction.

“You always get them.” The shrill voice called. It was the doll; the fucking doll was talking... not that this should surprise you at this point. “She should come with us! We need more friends.”

“You’re not included in this conversation.” The tall woman mocked with a fierce glare shot violently at the doll as its mouth hung slack.

“Can someone please tell me what the hell is going on?” Thus far, nobody had managed to answer your simple question. The lot turned toward you, the majority with piercing stares. “Guess not.” You muttered, becoming quite fed up with the range of emotions you had been experiencing over the past day. If it kept going in this direction, you’d surely have to be treated for whiplash.

“She’s already proven to be a considerable pain in my neck.” Miranda loudly projected. Her steps were a clear juxtaposition to her tone, falling light on the church floor as she approached. “One villager is unable to walk, another dead.”

“Dead?” The words fell before you could stop yourself. She didn’t answer.

“Please,” Heisenberg leaned back once more, his hand moving to the interior of his jacket, “the dumb thing practically laid down when she was attacked by a lycan.” His fingers fumbled around the darkened paper of a cigar. Yellow, blonde streaks flashed upon his face as the distinguishable clink of a metal lighter was flicked. “I wouldn’t call that too capable.”

“My friend pushed me.” You argued, once again mentally reeling for the outburst.

Heisenberg let out a huff of smoke, intentionally blowing it in the tall woman’s direction, “sounds like a piss poor friend.”

“Enough.” Miranda had taken to her spot at the front near the alter once more. “The girl shall go to Alcina.”

A wicked smile crossed the tall woman’s face. “Thank you, Mother Miranda. It is so good to have you back.”

“Where are you from?” One of the girls ushered you through the depths of the castle. She wore a simple gown with stitches at the bottom, holding together the frail fabric that looked to be decades old.

“America.”

The girl cocked her head to the side like a newborn. “I don’t know of that town.”

Upon arrival you were escorted down to what was described as the maids’ chambers. In a small stone room, you were assigned a cot, given a chest, and told to change into uniform. Your arm ached and spasmed as you lifted the lid of the trunk open. Somewhere between being shot by the villagers and being transported to Castle Dimitrescu, the bullet was removed from your shoulder and replaced with gauze that limited the mobility of your arm. The distinct oily feeling of grease caused friction between the bandages and your clothes; the ache of alcohol still stung, causing a sore numbness.

The Lady insisted all maids conform to the strict code of dress. Long, unflattering dresses, short heels, and sometimes a headscarf if hair wasn’t pulled tautly into a bun at the base of one’s neck were a few things to name the least. You always wore the headscarf, which was a thin piece of grey lace that attached at the peak of your hairline, cascading over your shoulders to land at waist-length.

The rest of the day passed slowly. You learned the ins and outs of the castle, became acquainted with the sparse staff that only consisted of women, and met Alcina’s daughters from a distance. The next two weeks passed the same way.

Wake up, clean the castle, serve Lady and her daughters, go to bed. That was your routine. Though, the sounds that seeped from the halls at night prompted unwavering curiosity. Heisenberg had mentioned the ill-fated maids that had the luxury of serving the Dimitrescu women back in that church. Nothing at this point had you doubting that was the case. But you assured yourself daily that you would not accept the castle’s fate; you would get out of here one way or another.

You had only been at the mercy of Lady Dimitrescu once to this day. A small spat broke out between maids and the arrival of the head of house had the women squealing lies of how you were the one to start it.

“She stole our rations!” The girl with the wide nose accused her chubby finger outstretched in your direction.

“I didn’t steal anything, you dirty fucking liar.”

“She did. We were squabbling over how she should be punished.” The other girl replied, tucking a shaking hand behind her back as she straightened her poor posture.

“A thief,” Alcina regarded you, “that’s a shame.” Knives skid across the thin skin of your forearm. “Another outburst like this and there will be harsher consequences.” Red stained her tongue as she ran the claw through her cherry-red lips.

As she sauntered down the hall and out of sight, you uncurled your arm from your chest, wincing at the large crimson stain it left on your dress.

“Fresh face.” The words ricocheted off the wall in front of you. Footsteps steadfastly approached from behind. He walked with an effortless swagger, legs slightly bowed with each lyrical step. You’d gone for the quiet route after the situation, finding that silence often pleased those that ruled over the castle. “Here I was thinkin’ it would take you a little longer to lose that fight.” He stepped closer; the unmissable smell of tobacco seeped from his lips. “Looks like I was wrong.”

Instead of words, you held his gaze through unimpressed eyes. Hues of yellows, greys, and greens met yours from beneath his rounded glasses. You could see more of him from here. A large scar ran from the right of his face to the left, the lifted skin healing over leaving memories of whatever had happened. In fact, the majority of his face was plagued with scars. One ran from the bottom of his lip down to his chin, disappearing beneath the stubble of his beard. You wondered if his disdain toward Alcina was founded by those wretched claws of hers. His hair was wirey with shades of brown and peppered grey streaking through the ends. Quite honestly, he was an attractive man.

“I’ve got a name, you know?”

“I don’t think I cared to ask.”

“Then I suppose you aren’t deserving of one either.”

“Well,” he tapped at your chest with a gloved finger, “I think you’ve got a little spunk left in you, sweetheart.”

“Call me Y/n.”

“No last name?” He deadpanned.

“L/n.”

He nodded, but you felt as though your words had passed through him like a ghost.

“Karl.” He gave a lazy bow, tilting the rim of his hat. “But I think you probably already knew that.”

“Gossip and information don’t come easily from the maids here. Sorry,” you pressed your lips together, “I didn’t know.”

Karl gave a shrug.

“Do you know what happened to my friend?” The thought had been playing on your mind for the past few weeks.

He raised an inquisitive brow and turned his head to peer out the shaded window. “The so-called friend that left you to become lycan chow?” A hearty tut left his chest. “I think she’s assimilated into the town.”

“Dumb bitch.” You breathed.

“There’s that spark.” He stood tall with an artificial sense of pride. It had been a long time since somebody in the village was willing to use such crude language in front of any of the Lords, let alone Miranda. It almost astonished him that they’d let you live after the killing of Adelina’s brother. The gun misfired; it wasn’t really your fault.

Another week of growing suspicions and two newly missing maids, you finally attempted to seek out the dungeons that everyone spoke of but warned to stray from. You had to know what was going on here.

“Lost?” Heisenberg’s voice appeared at your right side. His chin almost rested upon your shoulder; the stubble of his beard scratched at your neck. “This isn’t a place I’d get lost in if I were you. In fact, it’s not even a place you should be exploring.”

“Are you going to run to Alcina if I do?” You didn’t face him, why would you? The hallway was cramped, restricting of any sort of movement other than in the direction you were going.

“Me?” He leaned backward to stand at full height. Your body cursed silently, wishing nothing more than to have him close again. How he wasn’t hitting his head on the rafter just inches above floored you. “I hate that bitch. You do what you want, but I won’t bail you out when you get caught.”

“Good thing I don’t plan on being caught then.” You descended the metal ladder, only looking upward for a moment to catch a glimpse of Heisenberg leaning over the opening. An eerie smile was plastered on his lips, it was almost smug.

The dungeons were as you imagined. Cold water trickled down some of the walls, likely due to cracks in the castle’s foundation accompanied by the ever melting of the outside snow. It smelled of mothballs and garlic, something musty was clinging to the air. You noted a few turns here and there, attempting to memorize the path you had taken in case you needed to make a swift escape. What didn’t help was the skid of your maid’s clothes along the rigid floor.

Muffled cries put you further onto the edge. The narrow hall gave way to a large room filled with arched stonework. Metal bars shot from floor to ceiling, hinges creaked as the sound of hands banging against them filled your eardrums. You didn’t want to go further, scared of any repercussions should any of the jailed women recognize and rat you out.

Turning to head to the ladder, you collided with a chest. “Leaving so soon?” Heisenberg again.

“Shh!” You slapped at his chest with a closed fist, only realizing what you had done when the action was completed. He looked rightfully amused. Everything that you had learned of these “Lords” up to now told you to act less casually with him, to put on an air of respect at the very least. But there was something surprisingly human about him. Something that told you it was okay despite it potentially not being so. At this point, you were only prolonging the inevitable.

“What?” He started, swiftly being cut off by approaching footsteps. Firm hands grasped at your arms, pulling your face forward into his chest. “Open your mouth and I’ll feed you to whatever’s coming.” He said through his teeth, trapping your arms between your two bodies.

The room grew dim, the wall behind your back became close even though you had not moved at all. Heisenberg’s grip was strong on your forearms, causing you to inaudibly hiss as his thumb dug into the slash Alcina had left weeks prior. The footsteps were accompanied by the soft cries of a woman, gasping pleas of being let go falling silent on the ears of her assailant. A minute passed; the dungeon fell soundless.

“You can breathe now.” His lips lingered close to your ear, once again sending a rush of chills crawling down your skin. He knew what he was doing.

“I’ve been breathing.” You breathily retorted sounding as if you had just run a marathon.

“Whatever you say, doll.”

The wall behind you gave way, moving on its own. You turned; the materials that had been pressed to your back laid themselves on the ground. Heisenberg’s smile was unmissable. “Go ahead.” His voice was gravely, gruff, a slight melancholy dismay underlying. Heisenberg desired for you to implore what just happened, but you wouldn’t give him that satisfaction. You refused to see him as anything but normal, for if you did give in to the village’s mental games, you’d likely find yourself going mad. He was a man, you told yourself, nothing more.

“I thought you weren’t going to bail me out?”

“I wasn’t.” He tightened his grip on your arms. “But I figured it’d be a shame to lose such a pretty face so soon.”

“I, I’m sure you say that to all the girls here.” You couldn’t hold his gaze at this distance. Perhaps Adelina was right, you were rather frumpy and unexperienced.

A huff came as he exhaled, a thoughtful tug of his lips upward accompanied it. He didn’t answer, a reoccurring event with those who inhabited this town.

Heisenberg had been keeping his trips to and from the castle a secret. Truthfully, he wasn’t sure why he felt so inclined to bother with the outsider woman who appeared in the village one fateful evening. Perhaps he was growing bored of his daily routine with no results to show. Maybe he was enticed by the well of knowledge you held of the outside world. Maybe it was something else, something human. The Lord’s weren’t allowed to stray far from the village. The other three lived delightfully oblivious, completely okay with never exploring the unknown. Heisenberg, on the other hand, was not. Your friend, Jess as he recalled you calling her, was far from interesting to him. It didn’t take a genius to tell how low her I.Q. had to be. She conformed easily to the village and by all accounts had been down talking you to the others she met. She quickly fell into the same brainwashed daze of worship.

It had been another turbulent week of utter chaos around every corner. Nobody knew of your adventure into the depths of Castle Dimitrescu and you had no intentions of spreading any gossip among the maids. They all seemed to have it out for you anyway. You were the “outsider,” as one described it. It was so blatantly evident to them that you were not going to conform to their ways. And that disturbed them.

It wasn’t that you hadn’t your fair share of punishment to this point. In actuality, you had received a significantly greater amount of beratements and surface wounds from Alcina and her daughters. You thought to Heisenberg often, continually wondering how your life would differ had Miranda bestowed you upon him. He was irresistibly charming in his own twisted sense. Every word that escaped his mouth heavily contradicted his actions. You received a good number of swats to the hand stemming from woeful daydreaming of the man you hardly knew.

He could be dangerous, you’d tell yourself before slipping into yet another sequence of fervent and unrelenting thoughts stemming from the mysterious man. He was a Lord, one placed in a top position according to the village’s hierarchy. You just weren’t sure why.

There had been countless times the man had sauntered into the castle, “accidentally” run into you, and held brief conversation.

The other maids were assholes. Though you had concluded this swiftly upon entering the castle, their recent actions only solidified your feelings.

It had been only a day since Heisenberg’s last visit. He strolled into the castle, easing his way past the maids as they hurriedly passed by. They paid him no mind. The evening sun had begun to set in the sky. Lady Dimitrescu had gone out for the night, instructing her girls to hold down the castle while she was away. The three of them had descended into the dungeons, not to be seen again until morning. This left the halls free and roamable for the savvy Lord.

“That’s bullshit and you know it.” Your voice caught his attention. “Oh, shut the fuck up, Marybeth.”

Shrill voices argued back and forth behind the kitchen doors. The sound of muffled giggles fell on his ears; it was an unusual sound within the castle walls. The girls must be relaxed knowing they’re safe from punishment tonight. At least, that’s what they thought.

In a second, the hinges of the door burst off, sending the heavy frame crashing down to the tiled floor. Shrieks came quickly and died on their lips as soon as the girls realized who was there.

“Lord Heisenberg.” One woman bowed her head, concealing something within her hands as she placed them in her lap, clasped tightly together. “Lady Dimitrescu has left for the evening.”

“I know.” His brow raised at the scene set before him. You stood to the rear of the kitchen, clearly irate at something the woman who regarded him had done. Five other women were huddled with the one who spoke, following her lead and averting their gazes. No aroma of cuisine drifted from the empty cauldron, only the stale scent of curing meats clung to the air.

“What’s going on in here?” He looked directly at you from beneath the lid of his hat.

“We were cleaning the kitchen.” The maid spoke through shaking breaths.

After a pensive moment, he waved his hand. “You’re dismissed. Except,” he held his hand at your chest as you attempted to pass, “you.”

The girls stumbled over the door, making quick work of getting back to their quarters and away from the Lord. You listened as the audience of feet trampled away. None of the girls here knew how to walk in heels causing for a rather elephant-like clomping of shoes wherever they went.

“What really happened?”

“Do you care?”

“Not particularly, but color me curious.”

“Don’t get them in trouble.” You demanded through gritted teeth. “I don’t want to deal with the aftermath.”

He chortled. “You seem more afraid of them than you are of me.”

“You’ve not given me a reason to be scared.”

Your back pressed to the wall, a glass chalice fell, shattering against the floor. The lapels of his jacket and dog tags pushed to your chest were still cold from the frosted night air. “Do I need to give you a reason?”

“I just,” embarrassment rose in your cheeks, “would you stop doing this?” There was no budging the man. His strength far outweighed yours, easily acting as if your pushing against his chest was nothing but a soft breeze.

“Doing what?” A smirk grew on his lips. God, he loved this.

“This!” Your clenched fist banged on his chest, not rattling him in the slightest. Droplets of claret liquid ran from your palm to your elbow. “Dammit, Karl. Move.”

The use of his first name was new. A solid hand closed around your wrist, bringing it up to eye level. He tilted back, adjusting his vision. The raise of his brow signaled that he wanted you to open your hand. Complying, you cringed as the reddened skin screamed for relief.

“They did this?”

“It’s no different from the other injuries I’ve gotten here.”

“It’s deep.” He reached into the pocket of his trench coat. “Don’t let anyone know you’ve got this.” A silver tin slipped from his hand to yours, you pried at its ridges with your nail.

Heisenberg disappeared after that, taking off with a dramatic throw of the castle doors as he disappeared into the dense forest. He had given you a tin of salve and a bandage.

“Lady Dimitrescu has requested your presence.”

The Fugitive: Finding Home Part 3 - Foreign Thoughts

I'm so excited for where this fic is going...

Feedback is always appreciated

Tag list: (let me know if you want to be tagged)

@ambiguous-g @ren-ni @metaphorical-love-for-a-car @lgbtomatoes

[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. 

[butterflypeachgrove]

I’m just going to dump some Modern Au Zhongli job/career ideas here, thank you. *runs away*

Now, I’ve had a few ideas for jobs Zhongli could do in the modern world rattling around in my brain for a while, which are as follows:

1. An Antique shop owner/dealer

Just.. Picture this man running a cozy, little shop, packed floor to ceiling with old relics, yellow paged books, priceless porcelain vases, and heirlooms of forgotten families, decorated in brown and gold Chinese aesthetics. It is a place that smells heavily of tea and an earthy incense that you can’t seem to put a name to as you wander the shelves. It’s a warm and welcoming place, owned by a man whose eyes shine like gold and whose voice could melt away even the greatest stresses like butter as he tells you an antique’s unique history over a cup of tea. 

Also, it’s VERY hard to worm your way out of a deal with him, just saying. 

2. Ceramicist/Pottery Teacher

(This man is so good with his hands adhejvhkjhefoh)

Now imagine Zhongli working in a small personal studio or school art room, long black hair tied up in high bun to keep it from interfering with his work and eyes alight with a firm concentration as he begins to throw a new project on the pottery wheel. His hands are rough from years of working with clay, porcelain, and terracotta, but they are always gentle when handling materials or his tools. And just as he is firm and gentle with his clay, so is he too with his students. One of his favorites happens to be a boy he had picked up from the drama club (i like the idea of xiao being a theater kid, ok? bite me). He gives clear and long-winded- thorough instructions and tries to take the time to give each student the proper attention they need when they need help. 

And fun fact! One of his favorite things to make are tea pots! ...So much so that this man has half-a-dozen at home, whoops- (don’t worry, he sells them, but he also likes to gift them to friends too!)

(Also not me over here thinking about Ceramicist Zhongli and his lover doing something similar to that unchained melody scene from Ghost, nope, nuh-uh)

3. Art Conservator

Now this one flew out at me from out of nowhere and smacked me in the face, but I love it. Restoring pieces of history sounds EXACTLY like something Zhongli would do. I can see this man, once again, gently and meticulously cleaning up old and abused paintings and bringing them back to their former glory. And it just- It makes him so proud? It may be a long and tedious process that requires a lot of patience, but watching as his efforts slowly breathes life and light back into piece makes him so happy. You could stand there for hours watching him as he works. You could see how he carefully removes a painting from it’s frame and begins to brush away all the built up dust and bundles of cobwebs. You could watch as he smiles, using a cotton swab to remove the old varnish and years worth of grime to reveal the colors hidden beneath. You would notice how precise he is with his retouching, not putting down anymore paint than he has too with paints that could be easily removed in the future.  And you would know. You would know that he loves what he does. He’s commissioned regularly for his steady hand and gentle care for each painting he’s given. Plus, much like the last career choice, he loves teaching and showing his methods and sharing them with anyone whose interested.

Also, I’d like to imagine he and Albedo would be very good friends in this version (with a mutual disgust for anyone who puts wood varnish on paintings-) 

Aaaaaannnnd that’s all I’ve got for now! @mikachuchu @willowedwisteria @raidengaile @nicebonescomrade @xyliope @bamboowrites ? What do you guys think? Do you guys have any other ideas to add to the list?