#and we always laugh and joke around but also vent and encourage and

[nocreativityfornames]

Headcanon: When The Brothers Sense Their Sin on Each Other

Whenever Beelzebub senses his sin on his brothers, he will advise them to eat. And if they refuse to or try to give him excuses ( as Lucifer often does whenever he finds himself too busy with work ), he will bring them the food himself and make sure to sit down and eat with them.

When Belphegor senses his sin on his brothers, he will tell them to rest. Sometimes though, he won't say a thing and will just drag them to bed with him without warning. And then he will just lay with them until they're both asleep - something the others are already used to experiencing at this point.

In Lucifer's case, whenever he feels his sin on the others, he won't try interfere or make an effort to have it disappear. Because of course, pride is very different from gluttony or sloth. Whenever he senses how proud his brother are of something – that being a recent achievement or a simple joke they were proud of making for the fact that it made someone laugh – it will make him happy in ways he would never let anyone know. It especially warms his heart whenever he praises one of them for something, and he can sense their pride at receiving his approval. But of course, he will never let any of them know of that.

Mammon doesn't really get to feel his sin on his brothers often, that is if you exclude Levi when he talks about anime-related items he wants to buy and Beel when he obviously becomes greedy for more food. But taking that away, Mammon actually likes buying things for his brothers whenever he can. Two examples of this were when he bought Satan a book after sensing his sin on the blond when talking about a volume he didn't have yet and when he got beauty items for Asmo for the same reason. His excuses are always the same: a fan or his agency gave it to him but he wasn't interested so he passed it to them. But as we know, the second born is quite terrible at lying and the brothers can always tell. They will go along with it, though, just to make him happy.

With Asmo, things are a little complicated. Ever since the beginning of times, the brothers have never been able to crush/fall for someone without the brother knowing and teasing them about it, since of course, he could feel their lust around said person. It's like that one friend that after finding out you're interested in someone immediately wants to know EVERYTHING about them, and will end up embarrassing you in front of them later ( be on purpose or not ) while attempting to help you two get together. Because of this, it became the brothers' nightmare to have Asmo meet anyone they were interested in and they would do everything in their power to stop it from happening.

When it comes to Satan feeling his sin on his brothers, his main priority is to have them express their anger and not just let it build up inside, since he knows how harmful it can be and is used to dealing with it. That's why whenever he can feel Beel's anger at himself after not performing as well as he wanted to in a match, he will make sure to pull him to the side after the game ends and will encourage him to talk about it, take him somewhere he can let it all out if needed. Satan always encourages his brothers ( and MC ) to not hide their anger and instead vent to him about it. If they don't want to, he will find them another healthy way to express it.

Levi also doesn't get to sense his sin on his brothers a lot. Mammon is the one who demonstrates envy the most and even then it is an occasion that involves him being jealous of MC for spending time with the others and not much else. Levi also feels Satan's occasional envy towards Lucifer, although he wouldn't dare to ever mention it. After all, he values his life and has many shows and games he wishes to experience in the upcoming future. He will however try to ease the situation without making it obvious what he's doing. For example, he'll say something to cheer him up or will coincidentally point out how good X thing Satan is envious of not doing as well as the eldest is so that envy will die down. On other rare occasion that any of his other brothers emanate his sin for whatever reason, he will mention it to them and try to comfort them in the best way he can. Because he loves his family and doesn't want them thinking negatively of themselves or putting themselves down as he often does.

#obey me shall we date #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me #obey me headcanons #obey me post #omswd #//om: headcanons #//om: seven brothers #☙ no creativity for names ✾

[borderlinereminders]

how do i know if im being manipulated? i have bpd and its hard to recognize manipulation from my s/o esp because i cant trust my emotions + my memories can easily be gaslit.

This is a hard, broad question but here are some questions you can ask yourself:

Do they only contact you when they need something from you? For example, do they not talk to you much and ignore you unless they have a favour they want (this could also be that they only talk to you to vent to you).

Do you find your boundaries being crossed? Do you find them constantly pushing at your "no's" even if it seems innocent/playful like "oh please, it would make me so happy if you'd...". It's important to note that this still is manipulative.

Do they make really big statements like "you're the only person who could possibly understand" or "you're the only person I've ever loved" etc? (These statements can be used as a tool to manipulate someone, but not always, so please keep that in mind.)

Do you find that if you ever talk to them about something they've done that upset you, they turn it around and you end up apologizing to them for being upset?

If they don't get their way, do you find that they suddenly "have to go" or "can't hang out" or are just suddenly unavailable?

Are they always "just joking?" By this I mean, do they say harmful things like "oh my god, you're so sensitive!" and then go "just joking!" or laugh it off?

Do you find you're "punished" if you don't react a certain way? For example, if you get upset at something they've done, do you find they give you the silent treatment or something like that?

Do you feel you constantly have to prove your love? For example, they might use statements like "if you really loved me you'd..." (This could range from anything from doing a chore to physical intimacy to any number of other things. This uses guilt as a manipulation tactic to pressure you into "proving" your love.)

Do you feel like you live in their life and not them in yours at all? By this I mean, is it always about their hobbies, friends, places they pick to go, etc?

I also have an article about grooming in adult relationships here which may have some other helpful points. It's important to note that these questions aren't a perfect indicator. They are just suggestions to get you to reflect. They don't take into account the nuance of every possible situation. It's even possible someone may do these things once in awhile in times of emotional crisis, or do one of them and it isn't intentional when they're struggling with their coping skills. While it would still be manipulative, the intent might make a difference to you on whether you want to try and put up boundaries and work through it with them or etc. You'd also be valid to not want anything to do with them even if you know it's not intentional because ultimately, you should be looking out for your mental well being first.

If possible, I recommend writing down situations when you get into an argument or something of the sort so that you can look back on that if it comes up in the future and they tell you something different happened. Write down what caused it, the things that were said, etc. It sounds like a lot of work, but this might help you be able to better identify if/when they're trying to change the story.

I also encourage you to try and "describe" in the mindfulness skill to figure out your emotions because this could be helpful. Once you've done that, I recommend "check the facts" to determine if it's a reasonable response to a situation. While your emotions are always valid, sometimes our emotions don't match the situation and it can be good to know that before proceeding. Once we know what the emotion is, we can use the Wise Mind (or another skill if that isn't for you) to proceed. This Wise Mind skill can be used even if the emotional response doesn't match the situation, and actually probably should be used as it helps us navigate the situation in a way that doesn't solely rely on our emotions.

#april answers #ask a borderline #manipulation

[ofrashwriter]

continued

@ineedacoffeefix 

Praise, I wasn’t used to being seen as great. But I definitely had my moments of encouraging myself through the process of writing a book. It still blew my mind that Rory and I were having a teasing conversation about me having a publicist. Thinking back to how screwed up I was growing up, the limits felt impossible. I was barely making it through school, I was better at skipping class than holding a job. And Rory she saw me; she saw the poteniel in me, she saw the way my eyes flickered through pages of a book, it’s kinda what bonded us. Why we fell into each other’s obits. And now she was the one standing by my side. 

I felt a sense of joy knowing Rory made the trip to be proud of me, to witness the moment I read my words aloud. Now I had to pause my rapid thinking to add my own remark. “ You’re going to write the big stories, and I’ll even led you my publicist when the time comes, assuming she can make space for you.” A joke; a smile came to tug along bare lips. Jess had a sense of humor; he just had to be comfortable with you. Rory was his favorite person; she helped him believe in himself. She helped me have the faith to submit his writing; and now if she needed the encouragement; the words to know she was capable of more he’d be her venting ear. 

Now he knew this night part of the night might be difficult considering the amount of stairs he was forcing her to climb, but he knew in his heart she’d appreciate the view. He remembered the first time he climbed these very staircases, it was a long taunting night after he submitted a chapter, he was feeling nervous. He also felt like he was feeling blocked for the next pages. It was this roof; he was being put up in the hotel, and with the tossing and turning of sleep he felt the need for fresh air. And he found the roof. He felt the wind brush through his skin, his hair, and he closed his eyes. He envisioned the next stage; he was inspired. Jess never talked about his writing process; but the brunette was special he wanted to share a piece of himself. 

With his hand tightly wrapped around her own; he had heard her complaining, the exaggeration of the steps, of the lack of strength it was taking the female to climb. He tried to hold his tongue; he wanted to be the good guy that understood her pain; because we did discuss her lack of healthy habits just at dinner. But he had to exhale a laugh; especially when he stopped at the step to give Rory a moment to breathe; to catch her breath. Tilting his head back he took in the way her head was bent down, the way she was heavily breathing, he recalled letting his thumb tracing circling around her knuckles. “ I promise we will do the elevator coming down, it will do you good to get in a few steps. It always helps me.” The mindful soul he grew into. 

The male had tugged upon her hand; but slower he took each step with ease. Not wanting to overdo it with Rory; he cared about her and wanted her breathing obviously. Upon pushing the door open; the male hadd released her palm from his own, knowing she would explore the roof; leaning towards the edge; he raked his neck back to get a good look; the breeze brushing back her brunette locks. Beautiful he mused. 

“ Now, this sounds like a horror book, We might’ve read years ago, Don’t insult me Rory.” Or he might; now now he would never put Rory in harms way. He inched closer to the edge; his hand brushing against the railing as he took in the line of buildings, the skyline; a view to die for. “ It’s beautiful, I did a lot of searching for my book up here.’ A simper stayed planted on bare lips.

[violetlilysunshine]

Plenty of Times

Boyfriend Chris Evans x Female Reader

Requested - Anon: Hey! Is it all right to request for Chris Evans where reader comes in after a girls night and just dotes on him and loves on him and its sickeningly fluffy and he’s like what’s gotten into you? and reader breaks down because one of her friends vented that her husband is abusive and neglectful and she sees how important it is to have a good man in her life 🤍

WC: 1,619

Warnings: Pet names [bubba, babe, honey], talk of a bad relationship [neglectful husband - but not about Chris/reader], mention of phone sex [but it doesn’t happen here]

A/N: I’m so so so so sorry this took so long, I’m working on clearing out my inbox though! 

IF YOUR NAME IS SCRATCHED OUT I CAN’T TAG YOU - I’VE STARTED REMOVING PEOPLE, SO IF IT’S NOT WORKING AND YOU WANT TO BE TAGGED SHOOT ME A MESSAGE AND WE’LL FIGURE IT OUT

MASTERLIST - Join my TAGLIST

You haven't gone out with your friends in so long. You’re all busy with your own stuff - work and relationships, some with kids to care for. So, when the opportunity arises, Chris encourages you to take advantage of it. 

The night was pretty simple, dinner, a couple of glasses of wine, and a few shared desserts before everyone was ready to head home. Most of your friends were not night owls like you by any standard, so when dinner wrapped up early, it was no surprise. At least that meant you got to go home to your man. 

“Bubba?” you called as you walked through the front door.

“In here,” he answered.

You followed his voice to the living room, finding him lounging on the chaise sofa, Dodger soundly asleep next to him. Some movie played on the screen; you hadn’t paid attention to it long enough to know what it was.

You headed to the connected kitchen, dropping your keys and purse on the island, hanging your jacket on the back of one of the barstools, and slipping out of your boots before hurrying back to Chris. 

He paused the movie when he heard you approach him from behind. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, your hands splayed across his chest, as you pressed a long kiss to his temple. 

He hummed at the contact, placing one hand over the top of both of yours, before turning his neck to meet your lips with his. 

The kiss was sweet and simple, you could feel him smile against your lips as you lingered longer and longer into it. 

He chuckled when you finally pulled away, a big smile etched across his face and a glimmer in his eyes. 

You unraveled from his neck and stepped around the sofa. Dodger finally perked up when he heard you walking and you greeted him of course. 

“Hey, bub,” you whispered, scratching Dodger’s head for a second before turning to Chris, “can we cuddle?” you asked quietly. 

“Sure, babe, we can always cuddle,” he answered with a small smile, opening the blanket for you. 

You slipped under, resting between his legs with your back on his chest. He wrapped the blanket and his arms around you, splaying his palms over your upper chest and rubbing gently, just as you had done to him. You ran your nails over his arm as light as a feather with one hand, the other rested on top of his clasped hands, tangling your fingers with one set of his as best you could in this position. 

You tugged on his hand, pulling his arm further over your shoulder so you could place kisses on his bicep. 

“How was girl’s night?” he asked, placing a light kiss to the top of your head.

“Fine,” you whispered, squeezing his hands for a second, “was nice to see everyone. They all seemed to need a good vent,” you ended with a breathy chuckle.

You felt his laugh rumble through your body, “don’t they always?” he asked, another kiss being placed on top of your head as he looped his legs around yours.

“Seems like,” you giggled, stroking his calf with your foot. 

“Well I hope it was nice either way,” he said, “I’m glad you got to see them.” 

“Mm, yeah, me too,” you answered quietly.

He slipped one hand from your grasp to grab the remote, causing a whine to leave your lips, disappearing into his skin as you had your lips placed on his bicep again. 

He chuckled at the noise, “want me to start it over?” he nodded, making reference to the movie.

“No, it’s okay,” you whisper, pressing another lingering kiss to his arm. 

“You sure? I’m not that far into it...” 

“I’m sure, I won’t really be paying attention anyway.” 

“Why’s that?” he asked, you could hear the smirk in his voice.

“Can’t focus with you wrapped around me,” you giggled.

“Mm, yeah, sorry not sorry,” he laughed, playing the movie again.

You giggled, bringing his hand up to your lips to give it a kiss.

He gave his other hand back to you and you entwined your fingers with it as well, giving both of his hands small squeezes every once in a while. 

You placed random kisses on his arms, pulling his hands up every now and again to press kisses to them as well. You didn’t want to do it too often, so you wouldn’t annoy him, but you couldn’t help but give him a few. 

You tilted your head to look up at him, his eyes focused on the movie before he looked down at you. 

“What’s up?” he asked, his voice sounding a little tired. 

“Nothing,” you whispered, passing him a small smile. 

“You’re lying,” he said, placing a kiss on your forehead, “what’s on your mind?” 

You sighed deeply, “have I told you how much I love you?” 

He reached over and paused the movie, quickly tangling his hand with yours again: “all the time,” he smiled. 

“And how great you are?” 

“Plenty of times,” he chuckled. 

“And how thankful I am for you?” 

“More than once,” he answered, a sense of questioning coming into his voice. 

“And how kind and good you are to me?”

“Never in those words, but you deserve it more than anything,” he said, “where’s this coming from?” 

“Jenn was really upset tonight,” you started. 

“And that has to do with me, how?” 

“She was talking about how rough her marriage is. And I know everyone says the first year is the hardest, but he doesn’t prioritize her, and never really has, and if I’m being honest I always thought she could do better; and she feels so disconnected from him and he’s so distant and she’s just not happy,” you rambled, tears pricking at your eyes, “and of course the whole time she was talking I felt so bad for her, but I couldn’t help thinking that I’m so lucky to have a guy like you and that made me feel even worse. Ya know? Like guilty because I was sitting there thinking ‘well at least I’m not in her shoes,’ and, god, you’re so good to me and I appreciate and love you so much. Don’t feel like I tell you that enough, but, you’re the best,” you finished, taking a deep breath. 

“Honey,” Chris soothed, “you have absolutely nothing to feel guilty about, first off. It’s not your fault he treats her like crap, and all you can do is support her with whatever she chooses to do about it. She can leave, or they could go to therapy, or she might just ignore it all together, but the only thing you can and should do is listen to her vent and offer support, or sometimes advice if she asks for it.”

You smile, “I know, but it’s just a shitty situation. Like I wish she wasn’t going through it, because she’s great, and I wish he was as good to her as you are to me.” 

“Well no one’s as good as me,” Chris joked, trying to lift your spirits.

You laughed lightly in response, turning over a little bit and scooting up so you could lay face to face with him. 

“Second,” he continued, “I’m only giving you what you deserve. Wish I could do a lot more sometimes, if I’m honest,” he said almost under his breath as he wrapped his arms around your back.

“Chris, you do more than enough! I should be doing more for you!” 

“Babe, you give me everything I could ever want,” he smiles, “you’re amazing. Wish I could do more, like I wish I wasn’t away from you so much. Don’t like leaving you, ever.”

“You’re the best,” you lean forward, placing a kiss on the corner of his mouth, “you do plenty for me even when you’re away.”

“Not nearly enough,” he says, “gotta come up with something new for us.” 

“We’ve done plenty of new things while you’re away.” 

“Yeah? You think?” he asks, wiggling his eyebrows.

“Hey, without you, I never would’ve tried phone sex,” you giggle, “love trying new things as long as it’s with you. Especially that thing...” 

He lets out a breathy laugh at that, “I love you too,” he says, referring back to your ramble but also your willingness to try anything for and with him.

You giggle, this time pecking his lips, “I don’t deserve you,” you whisper against his mouth. 

“No, you don’t,” he says shortly. 

You pull away from him, not expecting that to come out of his mouth. 

“You deserve better,” he smiles, a glimmer in his eye again.

“You’re so corny!” you laugh loudly, causing Dodger to grumble next to Chris. 

“Sorry, bub,” you laugh at Dodge.

“Let’s go to bed, yeah?” Chris suggests.

“What about the movie?” you ask, tipping your head towards the TV.

“Eh, won’t be able to pay attention now anyway, and I’ve lost the flow,” he shrugs. 

“Sorry to interrupt,” you whisper, stroking a few fingers across his cheekbone. 

“‘S alright,” he whispers, “like you better anyway.” 

“Thank you,” you whisper, eyelids heavy as they start to flutter closed for a kiss. 

Chris closes the distance between the two of you, pressing a sweet kiss to your lips, “I love you,” he whispers into your mouth. 

“I love you too,” you whisper back.

Your lips seal in a gentle kiss, and he brings a hand up to rest on your cheek before pulling back: “you can always make it up to me anyway,” he says, a smile giving away his attempt at being serious.

You laugh at him, “alright, bubba, let’s get you to bed.”

TAGLIST: @hogwartsmarvelmommy @tulipholland @cupids-crystals @sunwardsss @mrspeacem1nusone @elishi03 @golden-hoax  @patzammit @serrendiipty @katiew1973 @princess-evans-addict @high-on-darren-criss @gnemgn @amelia-song-pond @scorpiowidow @multixfandomwriter @wildxwidow @na-nou83 @fdl305 @gotbangtan @dumbhead1 @evansxchalamet

#chris evans #chris evans fluff #chris evans x reader #chris evans x female reader #chris evans x fem reader #chris evans imagine #chris evans oneshot #chris evans fanfiction #Chris Evans fanfic #cevans fluff #cevans #cevans x reader #cevans x female reader #violetlilysunshine #violetwrites

[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. 

#aot x reader #aot fanfic #attack on titan fanfic #mike zacharias x reader #snk fanfic #the smut pile collab

[palettepainter]

How the teachers play favourites

We all know Aizawa and All Might have their favourite UA child, Shinsou and Midoryia. And yeah I know Bakugo and Todoroki are also their UA kids but shhh, Midoryia and Shinsou where the first UA kids they adopted. 

And you can’t tell me Aizawa and All Might play favourites with them, All makes Deku lunch like..hello?? Aizawa gave Shinsou his capture weapon, HELLO?? 

So here are some dumb headcannons for how the other teachers play favourites to their UA kids

Ectoplasm and his UA kid Jiro:

-When he gives back marked tests he’ll sometimes write small encouraging notes for his students to read, he does this to some students when he feels they need a pick up but he always leaves a positive one on Jiro’s 

-During lessons where students are allowed to study in the lesson Ectoplasm lets them listen to music on their phones, everyone thought he would say no so everyone - mostly Kaminari and Mineta - peer pressured Jiro to ask. To no ones shock except Jiro’s Ectoplasm replied with a calm “Sure, but only if you use your headphones”

-Jiro talks about new songs that have been released and Ectoplasm will listen to her geek out about music

-Sometimes Jiro will tell Ectoplasm what her and the rest of the band (herself, Kaminari, Momo, Tokoyami and Bakugo) have been doing and if they’re working on any new songs in-between their studies. Jiro jokes that Ectoplasm is their biggest fan but Ecto is genuinely supportive of their band and admires their creativity

-Jiro once entered maths class and said “Hey miter Ecto, what’s shakin’ bacon?” and while the whole class was stood there in silence thinking Ectoplasm wouldn’t reply he said “Not much double dutch” and then Jiro went to her desk as thought nothing out of the ordinary happened. Kaminari tried to do the same thing to him and Ectoplasm just went “Kaminari your shoe lace is undone-” Jiro was very amused

Powerloader and Hatsume:

-This one started out more like this - Powerloader: Who’s idiot kid is that?....*realises it’s Hatsume* Oh shit- THAT’S MY IDIOT KID-

-Hatsume showed up at the design studio and never left basically, so Powerloader got used to her. He knows Hatsume overworkers herself so he keeps spare energy bars, fruit and bags of crisps in the design studio. He brought a small microwave and kettle for the winter so Hatsume could make hot drinks and food since she insisted on finishing her ‘babies’

-Say’s he doesn’t worry but still insists she goes to recovery girl when she gets a scratch or blows up the studio, sometimes dragging her there himself, ranting all the way about how she’s an idiot. One day Hatsume ended up breaking her leg during a bad explosion and Powerloader very nearly had a heart attack-

He kept a close eye on her while she worked from a wheelchair at her desk

-Makes her wear a god forsaken jumper in the winter when the design studio is freezing, stupid dumb teenager you’ll catch your death of cold

Present Mic and Kaminari:

-This man is shameless with playing favourites

-He greets Kaminari with his signature finger guns and an enthusiastic “AAAYYYY KAMINARI!” Kaminari shoots finger guns back with an “Ayyyyy teach hozit hanging?!” Everyone in class knows Kaminari is a teachers pet despite how Kaminari insists he’s not

-Mic knows Kaminari has a crush on Jiro and Kaminari is an embaressed child who is like “omg msiter Mic STOP-” while Present Mic is coeing and being all like “Aw that’s adorable!”. He always puts Jiro and Kaminari together in group projects, Kaminari shoots him a flustered glare cuz Present Mic knows what he’s doing 

-Kaminari teaches him meme/slang language for laughs and everyone in class hates it, Kaminari finds it hilarious. Eventually Mic gets the hang of it but he sucked at using the language correctly at first 

-Calls him lil listener and Kaminari calls him loud mouth 

Midnight and Yaoyorozu

-Another teacher who is shameless with playing favourites

-Midnight being a teacher does have to enforce the dress code if she sees a student wearing their uniform incorrectly - loose tie, untucked shirt, odd brightly coloured socks, chockes, etc. Midnight really doesn’t care all that much if a student’s socks aren’t the sae colour as their shoes...buuut she’s a teacher so she has to enforce it. Except when it comes to Yaoyorozu. Yaoyorozu one day had to wear light blue socks into UA as her tights where damaged, and she was worried she’d be called out for not following the dress code. Midnight saw, and turned a blind eye. She was in the middle of telling someone off for not dressing correctly, saw Yaoyorozu with the odd coloured socks and went “-Oh hello Yaoyorozu you have a good day sweetheart! ^^”

-Always complients Yaoyorozu when she comes into class. Oooo did you try a new hair style? Honey it suits you! New note book, such cursive hand writting! Glad to see you got those new pair of shoes, trying a different shoe brand this time? Very stylish!

-Had been tempted to kick Mineta like a beech ball on more then one occasion when he wouldn’t back off from Yaoyorozu

-The kind of teacher to say “I taught her that~” when Yaoyorozu uses one of her combat techniques

-Girl gossip. She tries to guess who Yaoyorozu will get with, meanwhile Momo is just blushing and blabbering because that isn’t very appropriate for history work. Midnight bats a hand is like “Pft I’m the teacher I can gossip in my own lesson”. Puts her with Todoroki during group projects and she, like Mic, 100% knows what she’s doing

Hounddog and Shishida

-Hounddog: I am not soft....*holds up Shishida* EXCEPT FOR MY 1B CHILD WHO IS VERY STRONG AND HE’S GOING TO BE A HERO DON’T @ ME HE’S AMAZING-

-Encourages Shishida to let loose with his beast form, with his rish upbringing Shishida isn’t used to embracing his more wild and uncaring side, having been raised to always be propper and polite when not in combat. Hounddog geuenily puts in effort to be a little less grumbly around Shishida cuz he doesn’t wanna peer pressure him, he’s giving him time

-Keeps a spare cloth so Shishida can clean his glasses off when and if they get dirty from training

-I imagine Shishida having a quirk called beast and having a more posh upbringing prolly has a little bit of anxiety, having to always be polite and propper even with a quirk called Beast. Sometimes he vents to Hounddog about this and he listens, insisting that it’s better Shishida get it off his chest when he apologises for drowning on

-During training Hounddog basically throws him about like a beanie bag at first, Shishida was still a kid and Hounddog had years of experience. The day Shishida finally knocked him down with a hard punch to the side of Hounddog’s face he felt...bad. But Hounddog was beaming! Shishida may have cried a little bit

Snipe and Hagakure (picked hagakure inspired by a suggestion @snipe-enthusiast made a while ago)

- Protective af

-Hagakure screams the innocent dorky girl of 1A, and thought Snipe makes sure none of the girls deal with Mineta’s bull while he’s around he’s especially protective of Hagakure just cuz...well, have you seen the way she acts? She’s innocent, peppy, happy, cheerful, and Snipe does not want that tainted by Mineta’s preverted ways

-After the exam with Hagakure and Shoji Snipe apologized for what happened and so did Hagakure, admitting that she over-reacted. 

-Hagakure admits one day to Snipe that she’s worried she won’t make it as a hero cuz her quirk isn’t flashy like her classmates. Snipe reassures her by saying that no one thought he could be a hero when he was little (this headcannon was inspired by @frelmidja and a post this did with Snipe) - guns weren’t exactly considered heroic and he got teased in the beginning when his quirk first activated. He told Hagakure to keep working hard and that she had the potential and the drive to be a hero, Hagakure was very thankful for the reassurance

-Hagakure really wants to see what Snipe’s face is like and constantly asks him if he could take his mask off and show them, Snipe has yet to break and take off his mask but Hagakure is very persistant 

Cementoss and Bondo

-Chill babies, they sit and have tea together. 

-I imagine Bondo to be the kind of person to accidentally call Cementoss dad, it happened once during one on one training and he got so embarrassed. Cementoss kept telling him it was fine but Bondo left in a hurry after

-Bondo tried to make certian shapes out of his glue one time but ended up getting himself stuck, Cementoss helped him out and reassured a disheartened Bondo that everyone makes mistakes and that he was progressing well 

-Being one of the taller boys in 1B he often has to hold back Monoma from going over to 1A when Kendo isn’t around, often tries to diffuse conflict before it gets worse, Cementoss is very proud

-After one on one training the two go to the lunch hall to get a hot drink after cleaning themselves up, Bondo tries to bring a different type of tea sweet each time - something like biscuits or chocolate. Cementoss returns the favour by bringing Bondo manju to have after his training

Thirteen + Gunhead and Uraraka

-Proud mum and dad because I couldn’t decide between the two

-Uraraka researches into the affects of zero gravity and how to better use her power, due to this she’s become a bit of a space nut and enjoys thinks like star gazing. When she was a kid and saw Pro Hro Thirteen on the TV she was ecstatic! Her parents brought her a Pro Hero Thirteen plush on her seventh birthday, Uraraka still has that toy. One day the toy got misplaced in the students washing and got mixed up with the teachers, Thirteen was a bit confused why a plush of her - and a well loved one by how old it looked - ended up in the wash. Uraraka hurridly rushes over to explain when Thirteen comes into the students dorms asking if it belonged to anyone. When Uraraka explained she got it when she was younger cuz she’s a big fan of Thirteen...heart squeeze

-Asked Uraraka if she could teach her the gunhead martial arts move, Uraraka was so honored she got to teach one of her idols a combat move! Through the gunhead martial arts move Thirteen met Gunhead and the two become good friends

-One day when Gunhead is teaching Thirteen the martial arts move with Uraraka to help demonstrate Uraraka wanted to take a picture of them all together. Gunhead was too tall to fit into the picture so he kneeled down to be at the same height as Thirteen and Uraraka (he did bunny ears behind Thirteen’s head and Uraraka thought it was adorable)

-Gunhead pretty much puts two and two together with Uraraka having a crush on Midoryia, so one day when Thirteen mentions in passing conversation how giddy Uraraka gets when she’s around this one green haired kid Gunhead just chuckles behind his hand. Thirteen and Gunhead think it’s very sweet how Uraraka totally has a crush on him (unlike Mic and Midnight thoug they don’t force anything and let Uraraka figure things out on her own)

#MHA #MHA UA #UA Teachers #Teachers #Ectoplasm #Snipe #Midnight #Mic #Present Mic #Thirteen #Gunhead #Students #UA child #headcannons

[flightlessangelwings]

Always the Laundry

Marcus Moreno x gn!reader (no pronouns, no y/n)

Word count: 1.7k

Warnings: Fluff, protective!Marcus, kissing, heated making out, shirtless, Marcus being the best boyfriend, Missy being the best kid

Notes: Written for @autumnleaves1991-blog​ Writer Wednesday. I saw the photo and immediately thought Laundry Day Series! This works as part of the series, but can also be read on its own. I need to get back into writing more of this series cause I really do miss it and I have a few more parts planned out, so look forward to that coming soon and enjoy this for now! Graphic made by me.

~

It was a quiet afternoon at Heroics Headquarters and Marcus slumped down onto his desk with a heavy sigh. The morning had started with a threat of an emergency, but after Marcus sent a team to investigate, it turned out to be nothing. After the rush of adrenaline wore off, the Heroics leader found his thoughts drifted over to you. He wondered what you were up to this afternoon, and when he would see you next.

The two of you hadn’t been dating long, only a couple months, but Marcus felt a deep connection and attraction to you that he hadn’t felt since his late wife. You both agreed to take things slow, which worked best for both of you, but Marcus quickly found that he had deeper feelings even after a short time. He forced himself to hold back, however, and wait until you were ready to take the next step in your relationship. He would wait, though, as long as you needed.

Just as a smile flashed across his face at the thought of you, Marcus’ phone rang. His grin grew wider when it was your name on the screen, and he welcomed the distraction from the quiet of headquarters today, “Hey baby,” Marcus answered with a pep in his tone.

On the other end of the line, you breathed heavily and your voice was shaky, “Marcus?”

He immediately went on alert and stood up when he heard the panic in your voice, “What’s wrong? Are you ok?”

You rambled incoherently for a minute before you spoke more clearly, “I’m sorry to call you at work, but I didn’t know what else to do…”

“Are you at home? Where are you?” Marcus cut you off before you could continue.

“Yeah…” you sounded so scared as you whispered into the phone.

“Stay there, I’ll be right over,” he couldn’t hide the way his voice wavered as a rush of fear ran through him. 

Without hesitation, Marcus gathered his things and his weapons and bolted out the door. As he jumped into his car, every possible scenario ran through his head as he thought the worst. What happened to scare you like that? Had someone figured out your connection to him and found you? Did they have you cornered in your house, trapped? Were you hurt? What if he couldn’t get to you in time?

Marcus made it to your place in record time and with his sword in his hand, he barreled through the door as he called out your name. But, instead of a disaster situation like he expected, your place was quiet. There didn’t seem to be any hint of break in or anything disastrous. He made his way into your place as he called your name again, “Baby?”

“In here Marcus,” you finally called back from the far end of your home.

The laundry room, Marcus thought as he quickly moved over to meet you. What he found, however, was not what he expected.

You looked flustered and overwhelmed, and your clothes were soaked. You were surrounded by piles of laundry all over the place as your washing machine shook and spewed water and soap everywhere. At least an inch of water flooded your small laundry room, and it took Marcus a moment to register that his feet were now wet as well. 

But, your face immediately softened when you saw your boyfriend in the doorway, “Marcus…” you breathed in relief and his shoulders finally dropped, “I’m sorry, I didn’t know what to do and I was freaking out,” you gestured to the mess around you as he moved to be next to you.

“It’s alright,” he spoke in a soft, calming tone as he put his hand on your shoulder.

“This stupid machine,” you cursed, “It’s always spazzing out on me, but it’s never been this bad before,” you vented for another minute before you finally turned and met Marcus’ gaze. When you did, all the air left your lungs, “Marcus?”

“You scared me,” he admitted as those deep brown eyes looked into your own, “I thought something happened,” he squeezed your shoulder tighter before he pulled you in and wrapped his arms around you.

You let out a deep breath as you nuzzled yourself into his strong, comforting embrace, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…” you sighed again as you tried to make a joke to comfort him the way his embrace comforted you, “I mean technically something did happen…”

Marcus hugged you tighter as he kissed the top of your head before he let out a soft chuckle, “Always the laundry with you, huh?” The two of you broke out into laughter as you both fondly thought back to the day you met at the laundromat. Marcus pepped light kisses all over you until he finally felt you were safe and pulled away to meet your eyes again, “I’ll help you clean this up and then we can go over to my place so you can finish your laundry.” He thought it best to take care of the immediate problem for now, and he could worry about your washer later.

Your eyes lit up as you clung to his sleeve, “Thank you, Marcus,” this time it was your turn to place a soft kiss to his lips.

“You never need to thank me, baby,” he replied as he smiled into the kiss. 

He wasted no time in helping you unplug the washing machine so that it stopped spewing water and together the two of you cleaned up the water that collected in the little room. Then, Marcus gathered all your laundry and carried it to his car for you and took you over to his house. Even though you insisted you could carry some of it, Marcus didn’t allow it. He genuinely enjoyed taking care of you and wanted to do anything he could for you, no matter how small.

“Your clothes are soaked too, babe,” he said with a grin after he put the first load into his washing machine.

Heat rushed to your face as you realized what he insinuated. You had gone on several dates over the past couple months, and the two of you made out like a couple of horny teenagers every time you saw each other, but things never went further than that at this point. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to, you wanted him more than anything, but you both agreed to take things slow for both of your comforts.

Just as Marcus was about to apologize for his comment, you grabbed at your shirt and slid it up off your body and stood before him more bare than you ever had before. Marcus’ mouth dropped open in awe as he just stared at you with wide eyes. His reaction just made you more flustered, but in a good way this time. 

Before you could say anything, Marcus closed the distance between your bodies and kissed you passionately. He took the shirt from your hand and tossed it to the floor before his arms wrapped around your waist. Marcus quickly deepened the kiss as he lifted you up and sat you on top of his washing machine. Momentarily shocked by the movement, you moaned into his mouth, which only encouraged him more. 

While you stayed locked in his kiss, your own hands roamed around his chest and tugged at his shirt. Wordlessly, you asked permission for him to take it off as well. And Marcus was more than happy to comply. He broke away from you for just a brief moment as he slipped his shirt off before he was right back on you.

Heat rose in the room as you and Marcus lost yourselves in each other. The kiss felt more intense than any before while your hands roamed all over each other’s bodies. You had never felt that much of his bare skin before, and you quickly found yourself craving more. And Marcus absolutely felt the same about you. No words were spoken, none were needed, just the sounds of your lips against each other and soft moans from both of you filled the space. Marcus pressed his chest against yours enough so that you felt how hard his heart pounded in his chest, and you knew yours beat just as fast.

But, you two were interrupted by the sound of someone clearing their throat. You both broke away and were met with Missy in the doorway, her arms crossed as a playful, knowing smirk on her face.

“Missy!” Marcus scrambled and grabbed his shirt off the floor and used it to cover your body, “What are you doing home?”

“Because I live here,” she tried to play stern but she couldn’t help but laugh at the predicament she found when she walked in the door, “And school is done for the day.” Thankfully, it wasn’t Marcus’ turn for the carpool this week and a classmate’s mom brought Missy home.

At the same time, both you and Marcus tried to explain the situation with overlapping chatter. Missy couldn’t help but burst into laughter as she felt like the adult who just caught two teenagers making out, “Ok, ok, you don’t need to explain,” she threw her hands up in surrender as he turned to walk away, “Just lock the door next time, and keep track of the time! Geez!”

You and Marcus stood dumbfounded as she walked away. The two of you were stunned to silence for several long moments before you locked eyes again and erupted into laughter. Marcus reached out for a towel so you could better cover yourself for now and placed one last kiss to your lips as he did so, “She likes you,” he whispered.

Your eyes went wide, “Really?” you breathed in a hopeful tone.

“Really,” he confirmed with a wink, “And so do I,” Marcus cupped the side of your face.

You could have cried from the overwhelming emotions of just those few words, but you held yourself together. You placed a tender kiss on Marcus' nose as you spoke so softly, “I like you both too.” In that moment, both you and Marcus were grateful for your very faulty washing machine. 

#marcus moreno x reader #marcus moreno #marcus moreno x you #marcus moreno imagine #marcus moreno fanfic #we can be heroes #we can be heroes fic #pedro pascal character fanfiction

[tomtenadia]

My knight in shining armour

Rowaelin month Day 2 - University AU

I literally just finished this. I wasn’t going to write for this prompt but then an idea finally hit me.

The title as usual is bad... sorry

2k words

-----

Aelin had days in which she hated men. That was one of those days. 

After finishing high school she decided to took a challenging course at the University of Terrasen. Her dad, before he retired, had been an airforce pilot. She had grown up going around his base, visiting him when he was back. In doing so, she had become obsessed with planes. As she grew up, her dad had let her get friendly with his engineer and the man had started teaching her all she needed to know about aircrafts. From the basic physics to the more obscure detail of how the jet worked. Aelin had been fascinated. She had started reading all the possible books, and as she got older, her dad’s engineer had also started having her to actually help her in the hangar. In the summer when school was out, she would actually get a part-time job as an apprentice at the base and she had loved every moment of it. She had also become very close with the two female pilots and together they had spent time talking about the life of a woman in a boys club. The two women had become her role models very quickly.

Terrasen was quite and open minded country but some ideas were still quite obsolete.

In high school at the question “what you want to be when you grow up?” She always answered an aircraft engineer for the airforce. She never faltered or never doubted. That’s what she wanted to, that was her path.

But when time for uni arrived and she applied for a degree in aeronautical engineering, that’s when she realised that the boys club extended far more than she expected.

She was basically the only woman in the class. None of the guys had approached her and on the first day she had walked in the classroom, one of them had the guts to tell her that the humanities department was in the annex c. She ignored the bastard and sat down at the front. She belonged in that room and she would prove it to every single one of them.

Day after day she had shown her knowledge and surprised her professor who was amazed at the fact that she could answer such in depth questions. Last time it happened, she had turned to Chaol - the asshole who had told her about the annex c, and gave him a smirk. That had removed his stupid grin from his face. It felt amazing.

During a private one-to-one with her professor she had confessed to him she had been working at the airbase as an apprentice during the past three summers. Her teacher had luckily been very supportive and encouraged her to keep up the good work.

Now, six months in, she still hated with a vengeance the arseholes she had to study with. Some of them even had the guts to ask her for some help after they realised she was actually good. She had answered that surely they didn’t want the help of a woman, and walked away.

After another class it was finally lunch time and she was meeting Rowan down at their spot on the grass. They were a couple. He had asked her out in the summer after high school was over and they had been together ever since. He was a med student and he knew her pain about choosing a challenging degree. Both their degrees were very intense and required a lot of time so they would just try and spend as much time together as they could. They had a flat together but the public library was were they spent most of their time.

And when their schedules allowed it, they would enjoy lunch together, venting about their academical choices.

“I fucking hate that bastard.” She raged, dropping her bag on the grass and sitting at his side, depositing a kiss on his lips. She felt better almost immediately, being in his arms was all she needed to feel okay again.

“What did he do now?” Asked Rowan knowing of her struggles in her classes.

Aelin grabbed her bag and pulled out her food, the dinner that Rowan had prepared the previous night and then packed away for both of them.

“The teacher gave us an exercise where we had to design an aircraft with what we had learned so far.” She told him, while munching away her food “He was up first and his project was a effing disaster. Seriously, I’d wouldn’t want to fly on a plane designed by him.” She took a sip of her water “the teacher asked us to say what was wrong and it took me ten minutes to stop. I mean, a two year old would have done a better job with lego bricks.”

Rowan giggled at her side “then my turn came and the bastard had the guts to tell me that the aerodynamics of my plane were off and that my ailerons where wrong as well and would not allow the plane to function properly. I took my laptop and shoved it in his face and told him to find the error in my math. He had no clue.” Her face turned smug “then the teacher took over and said that actually my project was, among all, the only one that could actually fly. I felt smug as fuck.”

Rowan pulled an arm around Aelin’s shoulder and pulled her to him. He was proud of her. Every damn day.

“Then after class, he threw me a paper plane and inside it had a message saying this is the only plane you will ever build or work on. I swear, the guy is still alive only because I am not looking forward to finishing my degree via distance learning from a prison.”

She calmed down “how was your day?”

Rowan leaned back against the tree “I had anatomy and physiology. Today we covered the endocrine system and it must be one most boring of them all.”

“Well,” she added with a big smile “when you cover the reproductive system you are welcome to practice with me…”

He laughed and squished her to her chest “I am a very big fan of your… bits.” She kissed him deeply not caring that they were in public, she wanted him and hated that they had more classes before being able to go home and then alas, study more. Maybe for one evening they could study something different.

“Aelin?”

“Yes, buzzard?”

His tongue gently teased her and she opened for him while his hand brushed off a rebel strand of hair.

He pulled back “Nothing, you had tomato sauce on you lips. I was just wiping it off. Did you think I wanted to kiss you?” 

Aelin gently punched him on the shoulder, in return he gave her a massive grin. Rowan was a very reserved man who struggled with stranger, but she had her own version, the goofy one, the one who made jokes and loved to cuddle with her. She would treasure that version forever. That was just for her.

They were busy chatting away and she was showing him on her laptop the exercise she had been working on and her plane prototype and although what she was saying was greek to him, he still listened to her in fascination.

She was telling him how a plane flew and the four forces when a figure stopped in front of them.

“It must be exciting to brag with your boyfriend about your hopeless projects.” Said the man.

Rowan raised his eyes and finally saw the face of the man that had been making Aelin’s life miserable.

“What did you just say?” Rowan stood and towered on the brown-haired man by twenty centimetres. Chaol also looked frail compared to Rowan’s muscular frame.

“Chaol, you’d better go.” Not that she cared about the man, she just didn’t want Rowan to get into trouble for a petty man.

“You’d better give up while you still can, Galathynius. Aeronautical engineering is not a field for a woman.” He crossed his arms at his chest trying to look intimidating but the look in Rowan’s eyes told her it was a useless attempt. Her boyfriend was ready to attack. She knew he had never hit anyone, but had a feeling that if Chaol didn’t stop it could be a first for Rowan.

“Chaol,” she stood as well and growled his name in warning.

“Oh, so you are one of those arseholes who believes that certain jobs can be done only by those who were born with a penis. It’s the fucking 21st century. Grow up, idiot.”

Rowan swore, alarm bells rang in Aelin’s head. He only swore when he was extremely mad, something that her unflappable boyfriend rarely was.

“Oh look, Galathynius, you have a knight in shining armour.”

Aelin moved between Rowan and Chaol, trying to separate them when her boyfriend moved a step closer to the other guy.

Chaol chuckled “Did you sleep with every professor—” but Chaol never finished his sentence. She saw the scene develop in slow motion in front of her. At those words Rowan’s face had turned feral and as on instinct his arm moved and a second later his fist found its target in Chaol’s face. 

Rowan then grabbed Chaol by the collar and lifted him up slightly “You take it back, immediately or I’ll smash all the twenty two bones in your skull.”

“Go on,” said Chaol, nursing a broken lips.

Aelin stopped in between and grasped Rowan’s hand gently “Put him down, Ro, he is not worth it.”

Her gaze then turned to Chaol “now you go back to whatever shithole you came from and perhaps go back working on your project and design a real aircraft.” She moved closer to him “I know what the fuck I am doing. And I know I will have a job in the airforce after this. You will just go back being daddy’s little spoiled boy.”

Chaol glared at her and Rowan finally let go of him, bur before he fully released him he pulled the man close enough that his mouth was near his ear “you disrespect her like that one more time and you’ll finish your degree from a hospital bed while sipping your food from a straw.” Rowan flashed his teeth in a threatening gesture “you leave her alone, because if I hear you have been a bastard to her one more time, I will make your life a living hell.” And eventually released him. Chaol shrugged his t-shirt back into place and walked away without adding another word.

Rowan sighed and then turned to her, his expression back being soft as soon as she looked back at him.

“You didn’t have to punch him,” she said while snuggling against his chest. His arms quickly around her.

“Yes I had to. What he said….” She felt him tense up again “he made me so mad, fireheart.”

“Seeing you thump him was very sexy,” she kissed him gently on the lips “my knight in shining armour.”

Rowan chuckled and looked into he blue eyes “you don’t need a knight. You are fierce, brave and strong and do not need any protection,” he added, his lips on her head. Nesting under his chin was her favourite position. They fit perfectly “I, on the other hand, as a male who is hopelessly in love with you, felt the desperate need to avenge the sullied honour of my amazing other half.”

Aelin giggled hard “you really sound like a knight.”

“Come on, Sir Rowan Whitethorn of Wendlyn, let’s finish our lunch, I have an hour of mechanics of flight coming up and I need sustenance.”

“Yes, my queen,” he said kneeling in front of her.

Aelin laughed and kissed him deeply “maybe I can be your queen tonight in bed as well.”

His smirk grew wider and Aelin felt heat pool at her core at his expression.

“Whatever m’lady commands.”

They finished their lunch in peace without any more interruptions and eventually they parted ways, going to their respective classes.

Chaol did not bothered her anymore. He didn’t even met her gaze and him ignoring her was all she asked. She was there to learn, he could just go and sulk in the afterburner of a jet, perhaps while on, for all she cared.

Aelin texted Rowan a thank you and his reply was a simple To whatever end.

#rowaelin #rowaelinmonth #rowaelin fanfic #rowaelin fanfiction #rowan whitethorn #aelin galathynius #chaol westfall #university au #Throne of Glass series

[becausethathappens]

Spare Change

4k - college - Link is furious, so Rhett tries to calm him down.

For @peachworthy​ and anyone else who thinks swearing is hot.

-

Link is mad.

Link is pacing.

Rhett tries to help.

“Why don’t you just scream into a pillow, like you always do?” Rhett offers.

“I did that!” Link cries. He makes a show of going over and doing it again. Rhett can’t help his instinct to recoil at seeing his friend yell like that. 

Link’s car has been towed. Link can’t go on a date with the girl he’s been trying to court all week. 

On top of that: Link doesn’t have a credit card (all he’s got is cash) and it says right on the tow sign they don’t deal in it. Somehow Link missed the whole thing, the first time around, when he parked wrong or whatever. But now going to have to borrow his Mama’s card just to get the truck out of impound. 

All this and he still has to cancel on his date tonight.

“I didn’t even see a line!” he yells again, recounting the events that have unfolded. “How am I supposed to take their word for it without a picture, either! And like I said, if you can’t see the line, how are you gonna know when you’ve crossed it?!” he decries.

They’ve towed his car because he parked outside the student residential boundary lines on the main street. Everyone knows this is how the city of Raleigh makes most it’s coin. Shoving parking tickets on unsuspecting co-eds.

Link never thought they’d tow his freaking car, though.

Well, his truck. To be specific.

He feels stifled, cornered, and hot. Very hot. His skin is boiling, red and he wants to punch the pillow he’s just released after screaming into it. 

His only permanent means of escape.

At least, unless he borrows Rhett's car.

“I can’t believe they wouldn’t even give me a warning! Or wait five minutes! I was only in rec center for ten minutes picking up freakin’ — these freakin’ things,” Link spits the words as he picks up and tosses the flowers back down on his desk.

They’re rumpled, now, with his tense hold and actions. Rhett gets up and fidgets with them, trying to smooth the foliage back into the nice shape it started in.

“Link, it’s okay, Lindsey is gonna understand,” Rhett explains.

“It’s not — it’s — there’s — why’s it always —  I’M SO MAD!” Link ends with, apoplectic and beyond any other way to articulate it.

“That’s okay!” Rhett tells him, since he has every right to be upset. 

“I...! Ughhhh!”  He walks over and bangs his right Reebok heel against the closet door once for good measure.

It makes a noisy sound as it bends at the overhead slide hinge that keeps it on track. Link kicks it again, seeming pleased with the audible response from the wood bending and cracking loudly in the room, like a smack to the face.

“Link!” Rhett reprimands, sure that they’ll be in trouble with their resident advisor for damaging property if Link keeps it up. 

“I’m sorry, I just! I just wanna — ‘s just been one thing after another, this year!” Link growls, continuing his pacing and returning to the wooden door again. “I’m just so — so — ARRGH!” Link fumes and before Rhett can jump up to intervene, he watches his friend punch the door.

“FFF—reak! Dang it!” Link screams.

Rhett watches, eyes wide.

“Shit!” Link yells as it hits. It gives with a loud, snap-crack and Rhett’s mouth makes a perfect “o” in reaction. 

Link’s hand goes to his mouth catching his own language. “Shit!” he cries again like he can’t stop, muffled by his hand. 

Afterwards, he’s panting and Rhett is left standing to the side staring in a bit of awe. He didn’t know Link had that in him, to be honest. “Shit, there’s a hole!” Link exclaims.

Their eyes both guiltily dart to the half-filled swear jar on Link’s desk. Usually he’s the one keeping after Rhett for saying “Hell!” or “Damn!”

Although Rhett’s said all the bad words, at some point or another, it is unlike either of them to spew out a ton of foul language in a string as Link has. 

“Swear jar?” Rhett says, mostly in question. He can tell Link’s much madder than the other times they’ve punished each other for cursing. His willingness to let it go is rife in his tone, but Link shakes his head, madder at himself for having swore and willing to pay the price.

He saunters over to his backpack and finds his wallet. “No, no, I earned it.” He tsks himself as he pulls out a few singles and strides over to the jar, tipping them in.

“You overpaid, there, bo,” Rhett advises, watching the bills settle. It was a quarter a word and Link put in three dollars. 

“‘S for the door,” Links says, shrugging. “I don’t know what the Hell I ‘s thinkin’!”

He closes his eyes. “And for that Hell, too,” he adds. “And that one!” He throws his hands up. “ARRgh!”

“Link!” Rhett yells as he slots another single dollar bill, adding to the overpayment, but cushioning the extra curses all the same. “Link, it’s — you — it’s fine!”

“It’s not fine!” Link yells. “I’m screwed. And now I’m cursing like a sailor watchin’ my favorite football team lose the playoffs!”

Rhett makes a face. “What, we talkin’ the Army-Navy game, or what?”

“Damn it, Rhett!” Link snarls. Then he closes his eyes and makes a face at his own words. “Damn it, Rhett!” He paces around, throwing his hands back around, gesticulating. “I feel like I’m trapped in some sick dirty mouth loop!”

“That sounds… why does that sound worse than the cursing?” Rhett says, joking. “Maybe you should add another dollar?”

Link sighs, dramatically, and does so. 

“Link, I was — you don’t have to actually — Link, it’s okay!” Rhett stammers out, eyes bright. He comes at Link with his hand out, like he’s asking to be heard out. “You had a horrible day, you should be allowed to vent a little!”

“Vent a little?!” Link shoots back. “I put a hole in the door!”

“Yeah, okay, maybe that wasn’t your finest moment, but you’re pissed!” Rhett explains. “I get it!”

Link throws his hands up as if to say, at least there’s that and not much else.

“You should get a pass.”

“A pass?” Link questions.

“Yeah, just for tonight.” Rhett puts his hands on his hips. “You already paid for a week’s worth of curses with my exchange rate,” Rhett jokes. 

Rhett didn’t curse much, but all the other money in the jar was his. Link’s never so much as taken the Lord’s name in vain before.

Link spares a sidelong glance and hustles back over to his backpack to return his wallet. 

“Go ahead, man, you’ve earned it. Blow off some steam!” Rhett advises.

“So, you just want me to start cursing?” Link asks, joking with a touch of condescension. “Like some — some degenerate?”

“Degenerate?” Rhett asks, laughing. “Who said anything about being a degenerate?”

“That’s who curses, Rhett!”

Rhett looks Link over and decides to try and get his mind off what’s eating him by messing with him. His favorite pastime. 

“You should say the ‘F’ word, Link,” Rhett urges, suddenly, overcome with the desire to corrupt Link. He’s a bit ashamed of it, but another side of him insists that it would be hilarious to see Link snap and start saying filthy things, even for just one night. 

Hearing him say Shit! is enough to get Rhett interested in hearing more.

Link frowns. “Fornicate?”

Rhett smirks. “Yeah, but the bad version.”

Link’s eyes go wide. “Rhett!” he puts a hand to his chest, finally settling on a posture that indicates he’s nearly at his wit’s end. Rhett beams at him. 

This is as much about teasing Link to take a night off being Mr. Perfect as it is about Rhett noticing that Link screaming Shit! also did a lot to calm him down. If he curses more, maybe he’ll feel better altogether. Plus, as established, Rhett found it hilarious to watch unfold.

In his opinion, it’s certainly worth a shot.

“C’mon, Link — let one rip!” Rhett teases and Link’s brows furrow.

Unfortunately, Rhett’s efforts to cheer him up are doing the opposite for his mood in the meantime. Link looks actively annoyed at the supposition.

“Will you please — ? We’ve established I’m having a terrible enough night as it is and I don’t need your added bull —” Link stops, then goes silent off at Rhett’s delighted expression.

“My what?” Rhett teases more. “My bullshit?”

Link’s eyes flick to the jar. Rhett makes a show of grabbing a quarter from his laundry money holder on his own desk and walking over to put it in the jar. 

“Yeah, that,” Link bullies. 

“Well, too dang bad, Link,” Rhett says, splaying his arms wide and taking in that Link is at least partly distracted from his terrible night, even while he spoke of it. “Rules are that so long as I pay up, I’m fine.”

Link huffs.

“This is —” Link starts, voice rising again in agitation.

“Uh, huh,” Rhett encourages.

“You’re such a —” Link begins and ends. Rhett’s eyebrows and eyes both dart up then turn crooked, waiting for any addition to that comment, but it never arrives.

Link starts pacing again, faster, back and forth between the dorm beds and their door. 

Rhett merely nods, waiting for more.

Finally, something in Link stops him in his tracks. Whether it’s the constant grinning nods from Rhett to egg him on, the long itinerary of Bad Things that keep on Happening, or just that Link is filled with an urge to punch the closet door again and he knows he can’t do that. 

So, he snaps, “IT IS BULLSHIT!” full volume at Rhett.

Rhett’s head nods even more swiftly, taking a deeper path up and down, like he’s bobbing over steady waves to stay afloat.

“IT’S ALL BULLSHIT!” Link repeats at the same charged decibel.

Rhett still nods more, as if to tell him to elaborate further, but Link’s anger stagnates his thinking. He just wants to keep screaming that, so he does. “IT’S ALL SUCH BULLSHIT!”

“Yeah, it is!” Rhett calls back at him, like he’s cheering him on in the stands.

“And you?!” Rhett puts a hand on his own chest as if to answer silently who me? Link’s, fired up again and pointing in Rhett’s direction. “You don’t get to have fun with this, you’re — you’re just as bad!”

“YEAH! I AM!” Rhett calls out, uncaring about being thrown into the mix as well.

“When you drove us to the rec center last weekend, we double-parked with our hazards on and took twice as long!”

Rhett exclaims, “We did!” in agreement.

“ASSHOLE!” Link yells at him.

Rhett nods. 

Link tears his fingers through his hair, overwhelmed at how out of hand his words have gotten, so quickly. His eyes stray back to the swear jar where he knows he has at least a few words to go. Disturbing though the thought, he considers also that he has more money in his wallet. 

He knows how far he’s strayed, already, from that change in priorities alone. When he looks back at Rhett, who is still giddy, waiting for him to say more, he gives up. 

“Fuck,” he mutters, in absolution.

Rhett gasps. 

He’s been waiting for Link to say that, most of all, and is shocked by how quickly they’ve arrived there. Hearing it spoken so casually, on top of it all.

“Fuck,” Link repeats again, in surprise that the word actually tumbled out of his mouth so smoothly.

“I don’t even think I’ve ever hardly thought that word before, let alone said it, now I can’t f — fuck, now I can’t stop!” Link growls at Rhett, furious at his role in what feels like a downfall.

Rhett is still aghast. His mind racing. 

He’s been waiting for the delivery and is amazed to hear Link actually do it. His mind has been picturing this as a funny joke, but Link is just standing there, mad, yelling fuck, again and again, accusatory. Rightly so. 

Rhett knows he drove Link to this, in part for his own amusement, but it doesn’t feel funny at all anymore. His cheeks feel warm.

Link’s face reddens further at Rhett’s lack of response. 

He gets up in Rhett’s face and Rhett feels himself start to back up so quickly he nearly stumbles to sit on the bed. He needs to concede this fight because it’s clear there’s a lot more pent up anger than he’s realized inside Link. 

He thinks back to the door and looks around. That did calm him briefly, but surely he can’t just punch the door again. “You should yell,” Rhett ekes out the next best thing. What Link shouted after the punch. “Yell it.”

He means the f-word, still. The way Link is saying it, it feels immoral to be saying it, too.

“FUCK!” Link yells, at his continued badgering, whether it’s in fulfillment of his request or not, Rhett couldn’t say. His body shudders in fear at how loud and direct an outburst that was.

Now, he’s worried their dorm mates are going to think they’re in an all-out fight. Rhett’s eyes scan the bed and he grabs a pillow. “Yell into this,” he offers, handing the pillow over.

Link, still looking annoyed, takes the pillow. He shoves his face against it and screams, “FUCK!” at what must be the very top of his lungs.

Rhett has to brace himself against the top bunk. He’s waiting for the punchline. 

It still hasn’t come.

Link, meanwhile, has pulled his bright red face from the pillow and takes in air in pants, looking over at Rhett. Rhett is sure he’s never looked so tough, so masculine, so — Rhett’s stomach lurches.

He knows that can’t be healthy. To consider any of those traits as a burly or cool, but he’s too concerned with why they’re making his insides tingle to interrogate it much for himself.

He offers to take the pillow back and Link hands it to him. Instead of putting it on the bed, Rhett holds it in his hands. He’s speechless, he thinks, but his head is pounding too hard to know why his mind directs him to his next request. Muscle memory, perhaps. 

Normally, Rhett would wrestle with Link until he got the anger out, but that feels absolutely impossible to initiate right now. With Link this mad, somehow Rhett worries that even being bigger and heavier, Link would find a way to win that match, looking as livid as he does.

 “Um,” Rhett starts, unable to figure out what more to say, now that Link’s gone through all that. He holds up the pillow. “Punch this,” Rhett says, not thinking about the fact that said pillow is still in his grip. He’s more focused on the mental image of sweaty, angry Link punching things again.

It’s what helped him relieve tension before, after all.

So, he pushes the pillow forward again, centering it where Link can take an easy swing in the middle and miss Rhett’s hands entirely, and waits for Link to make a move.

Soon, Link does swing, deftly, landing a soft punch on the object with a huff. Rhett can see some of the tension lock up and release from his shoulders. It’s not gone, but it must be helping. Rhett knows shooting hoops when he’s pissed always did the trick.

Link then punches again, firmer, this time, shouting, “Fuck!” along with his movements.

Then again, then a third and fourth time, until the pillow gives way and flies back towards the chair behind where Rhett stands. “Shit!” Link calls, watching it settle on the desk chair to their right. 

Rhett considers that is likely to keep happening, once Link builds back to that momentum, so he turns back and squares up. He holds a palm out behind another palm. He doesn’t ask, but Link can tell he’s being told to punch into Rhett’s open hand like it’s a boxing or pitching warm-up.

Link pulls back and slams his fist into Rhett’s palm. The taller of the two staggers back, but doesn't flinch. He puts his hand back in the same spot waiting for another. Link gives just as hard again. 

On the third hit, Rhett finally falters. The sting of the punch is too much for him to let on as harmless, when he waves his hands around the air to ease the throb. He grabs a throw blanket and drapes it two or three times around his upper chest, then motions for Link to aim there instead. 

Link gets a good hit in and Rhett is sure this way is going to last even less than his naked hand did, but he has to try to keep at it. Link is so angry, but he looks so good hitting like this, like he could star in a cologne ad or work at Abercrombie & Fitch at the mall. Rhett has to let him get the tension out. 

That’s Rhett’s job as his best friend.

Eventually, the pain is too much and he needs a break. Rhett puts a hand up in pause and sits himself on the bottom bunk and waits for Link to say something. They’re both panting with the same amount of exertion they use when they wrestle, but they still have all their clothes on.

For some reason, Rhett’s mind takes note of that.

He realizes he’s been staring at Link when Link starts to return the gaze. “Why’re you looking at me like that?” Link asks. 

Rhett blushes. “Like what?” He can’t see his face to know.

“Like I’m a sideshow exhibit,” Link tells him, throwing his hands back up in derision. “Or — or, I don’t know a piece of undercooked meat, almost.”

“What?” Rhett asks, blanching.

“Like you’re sizing me up to fight,” Link clarifies. 

Fight — Rhett considers. Quite the opposite. His mind thought Link meant piece of meat — to bite. Which sent a chill up his spine. “I-I wasn’t…”

“You were!” Link says, still crackling with tension. Rhett doesn’t have any part of his body to absorb it, any longer, he feels useless to help.

“Link…” Rhett starts to say, looking up at Link. Link still has an arm on the top bunk but now he’s leaning down a little, friendly but threatening, and Rhett’s insides start to turn over in knots. 

“You want to pound me, admit it!” Link says, impatiently.

“What?!” Rhett replies, stunned.

“You,” Link says, pointing at Rhett. “Want to pound me,” he starts only to stop and point at himself. “It’s clear as day on your face.”

“What?!” Rhett yells at him. 

“You want to pound me, Rhett. You’re so predictable,” Link elaborates, plainly. “Go ahead!”

Rhett’s eyes nearly bug out of his head. “Link, I-I…” Rhett trails off, his face blotchy and drawn.

“C’mon,” Link begs, leaning forward down at Rhett, taunting him. “Hit me!”

Rhett registers his words, understanding finally that he means to physically fight him, not to pound him as in fuck him. In Rhett’s defense, that word has been thrown around pretty casually for the first time ever and he’s racing to keep up with everything Link is doing.

Unfortunately, Rhett comes to this conclusion after he’s already leaned upwards and started kissing Link on the mouth. 

Once he’s there, realizing the grave error he’s made, he breaths a huff of air in humility as he feels Link’s mouth open in turn. Then Link’s tongue darts out to push into his. 

As the wet tip bursts in and out, rapidly, and Rhett contemplates that it’s like Link is still hitting him, in this tiny only-in-his-mouth kind of way. So, maybe Link was right and he did want to pound him but only via the mouth. Since it also felt so good, Rhett starts returning the kiss, rapid pace, and pulling Link closer. 

Link groans under his guidance, but it’s a good groan. Link rests a thigh over each of Rhett’s and sinks back on his knees, sitting over Rhett, as they continue to twist tongues. Rhett doesn’t know what to do with his hands, so he moves them around to Link’s back and they naturally drift towards gripping his ass while he holds him.

Link moans into his mouth at the feeling.

Eventually, Link pulls back, leaning so there’s enough space to speak his shock. 

“Fuck, Rhett,” Link mutters. Rhett feels his dick throb and thrust up towards Link’s lap as he shifts. Rhett’s not sure when he got this hard, but it suddenly feels like he has a steel rod stuffed down his sweats. “What are we doing?” Link breathes out. “Was that — were we just kissin’? What the Hell is going on?” Link questions, desperate and aroused.

Rhett humps up another time and Link keens at the sensation. 

“I think my body just wanted to help relieve the tension of, uh, you know, all that anger and — " Rhett starts to explain, but he’s helpless to the feeling of Link rolling around in his lap and generating even more friction between their overlapping arousal. “Guess it preferred the idea of this over punching you.”

Link rocks his hips and giggles through his own enjoyment as he watches Rhett squirm. “I’m a little biased, but yeah,” Link says, grinding down more. “This does beat a punch in the face, I’ll give you that.”

They’re both panting and rubbing on each other more before Rhett reaches down to touch Link. “Honestly, I think I could —” Link says, grinding with extra effort in a way that makes Rhett feel Link’s erection evidently as it presses against his midsection. He grinds back into that area specifically.

“Yeah, same,” Rhett agrees, circling his hips in time with Link’s.

Nothin’ like some good old dry humping, for what ails ‘ya, he figures. 

Link leans down and either forgetting his initial shock or abandoning it, he captures Rhett’s mouth in another kiss. 

Before long, they start gasping for air from one another’s open mouths while their faces stay pressed together but not kissing, as they grind harder and harder where they sit. 

Rhett reaches a hand down and fondles them both at once, rubbing his sweats against Link’s khakis. Link throws his head back in pleasure. “Feel better?” he asks, hoping this has been as erotic and pleasurable for Link as it has been for him.

“Oh, shit, Rhett, yeah,” Link moans, waist canting in time with Rhett’s motions. While gripping Link’s ass, Rhett’s moved his right hand up his back to steady him with how harsh the kisses are, each time. The hand that moved to Link’s back has stayed under his tank and drifts to his front. Rhett feels around for a nipple and squeezes once when it finds purchase. 

“Oh, fuck, yeah, just like that, oh my God, fuck, FUCK!” Link bellows out, suddenly aware that Rhett is sucking kisses into his jaw and throat as his other hand, the one not on the nipple, still squeezes his ass.

“I’m gonna — I can’t stop — I’m about to,” Link begins several attempts to warn Rhett, but comes before he can finish or Rhett can respond.

Rhett’s eyes go fully wide again, in amazement, feeling Link’s dick throb and spurt laid against his own. It’s enough added heat and friction that he feels his own orgasm begin to crest unexpectedly. He hasn’t come that quick in years. Maybe ever.

Link pants through his come down, but doesn’t move to get off Rhett right away. They both remain still, clutching each other as they sit tangled limb over limb. 

“D-Did we just have sex?” Link asks, mortified, but still draped over Rhett.

“Technically,” Rhett confirms. “But it was non-penetrative, so we’re still good, I think.”

“Oh, okay, yeah,” Link says back, his eyes far off. 

“You sure that’s okay?” Rhett asks, looking for Link to meet his gaze and assure him that is.

He does, but he speaks his mind, to clarify anything not given away by his crooked grin. “No, I was askin’ ‘cause I wanna do it again.”

Rhett’s eyes light up.

“A lot,” Link explains. 

“Fuck,” Rhett moans, softly, brushing a thumb to Link’s lower lip. 

He joins their mouths again.

Link cuts the kiss short, with a hand between them, however, and gives Rhett a stern look. Rhett knows in that moment and any proceeding it, he’ll do anything Link asks of him. 

Rhett’s glazed eyes spin focus to Link’s face again to figure out what that will be this time. Link nods his head towards the half-empty jar on his desk. 

“Pay up.”

#why is mean link always so hot #things i wrote #🍋 #@peachworthy

[sokkastyles]

I was talking about this to my cousin, and I feel like there's this misconception in fandom (especially for this who don't ship) that zuko and katara yell at each other a lot even as friends. Post TSR, I can't think of a single moment where either of them have lost their temper at the other?

Yeah, honestly, when people say that all they would do is yell at each other I just have to laugh because that’s literally the opposite of what we see of them on screen.

I mean, we’ve seen them argue, but never without any reason, and they actually manage to work it out in a healthy way and their relationship becomes stronger as a result. And that’s actually a sign of a healthy couple. If you’re afraid to disagree with your significant other or you can’t resolve fights in a healthy way then that isn’t a good thing. Obviously you don’t want to argue all the time, but no relationship is going to be always without conflict. The key is in whether you’re able to resolve it, and I’d argue that Zuko and Katara actually provide one of the best examples of that.

And the anti discourse around this annoys me in particular for two reasons. One, people insist that a strong female character has to be tempered, and because Katara is a character who does get angry and lose her temper and feels things very strongly, people feel like she needs a man to hold her back. Which she does not.

As for Zuko, because he’s an abuse victim people act like he’s too damaged to have a healthy relationship and he would just not be able to control himself emotionally, which is also false because he had like, a whole arc of learning to control his temper and changing himself and getting rid of toxic behaviors. Like, that happened in the show.

The one scene I can think of after “The Southern Raiders” where Zuko loses his temper at Katara is in “The Ember Island Players.”

This kinda turned into a meta about that episode so whoops.

Zuko complains about his portrayal in the play and Katara teases him, and he shouts at her but it’s without any of the volatile nature of some of the ways he took his anger out on others before.

He doesn’t seem like he’s really angry at her, and look at her face. Look at how much fun she’s having! Katara, the girl who worried about being seen as too serious. Look at how natural she is with him. It comes across more as good-natured ribbing (dare I say...flirting?) on both their ends, even though both of them are upset about their portrayals. Katara isn’t fazed by his dramatic reaction and he’s immediately forced to eat his words. Which I think is an important aspect of Zuko’s arc of learning to control his temper and realizing that he doesn’t need to take everything personally. He’s forced to live with his own embarrassment, which fits with the theme of learning humility. We’ve seen him do the same thing several times after joining the gaang, where he initially gets angry but then makes a conscious effort not to overreact. Which isn’t always easy, but he’s trying.

And part of it is also that he feels safe with her, despite his long face. He knows that she’s not really being mean. Katara can be mean even to people she loves, but she’s transparent with her emotions. 

Contrast that with the way Zuko was with Mai, who he could never figure out. Mai always encouraged Zuko not to show his emotions and he predictably exploded because he was feeling things and he didn’t know what she was feeling or what she wanted from him.

This episode is actually another really good example of how well Zuko and Katara do get along and are able to resolve conflict even in a situation where both of them are upset and dealing with their own individual issues. Even though she made fun of him for it before, Katara is empathetic when she realizes what is really behind his anger, which is that he misses Iroh and feels guilty about the way he treated him.

And it shows how well she knows him. She knows that he can sometimes do hurtful things that he regrets later, but she also knows that he loves Iroh. She knows this because this mirrors her relationship with Zuko. I mean, the relationships literally echo each other in this episode. She’s been in Iroh’s position, he hurt her and then sought her forgiveness (and she was also there when he betrayed Iroh. She is in a position both to understand and know that his regret is sincere and to reassure him that he can get Iroh’s forgiveness, as she also forgave him. That’s why she’s the one to comfort him outside Iroh’s tent a few episodes later.

It’s also kinda funny that they are so close in this scene because the scene right before this one is the zutara crystal caves parody. They go from moving away from each other, embarrassed at the idea of being a couple, to very close in a matter of minutes. The lady doth protest too much, methinks.

This is also right after Aang walks out in a huff, because of the whole stage zutara thing. Like? I wasn’t supposed to ship them here?

Aang and Katara argue this entire episode, and when Katara tries to comfort him about his anger at his portrayal in the play, he takes it out on her.

Katara: Relax, Aang. They're not accurate portrayals. It's not like I'm a preachy crybaby who can't resist giving overemotional speeches about hope all the time. [Everyone looks at her.] What?

Aang: [Turns around and sits down. Sarcastically.] Yeah, that's not you at all.

I remember having a really visceral bad reaction to the way Katara is treated in this episode that I couldn’t really articulate, and at the time I didn’t realize how much it had to do with shipping because I had no idea what the fandom was like when I was watching the show. I described it to a friend as Katara being treated like “the girl” of the group. Even though there are two other girls present, Toph is one of the boys, and Suki is in an established relationship with Sokka so she’s not a threat. But Katara is Aang’s love interest, and their relationship status is uncertain, so she’s treated like a source of conflict for Aang. I was able to pick up on this even though I didn’t feel particularly negatively towards the Kataang relationship at the time, but in hindsight this treatment of Katara is so tied with Kataang that it’s hard to avoid negative associations with the ship itself.

Katara spends a lot of time this episode trying to comfort Aang, who spends most of the episode angry at her for things she didn’t do and can’t help. She also has to deal with seeing a version of herself onscreen that is racist and misogynistic, but who is there to comfort her? Aang, Sokka, and Zuko all get upset about their portrayals, and are allowed to vent and be comforted, but Katara is punished for it and then told that she is like that, and mocked. She has to comfort Zuko, too, but at least she gets to mock him as well and give him a little bit of what she has to put up with. And he’s not the one who yells at her while she’s trying to comfort him, that would be Aang.

If this episode was supposed to be anti zutara and pro kataang, it certainly did a poor job indeed. Even in this scene where they all look at her and fall silent when she says she’s not a sappy crybaby, and it’s supposed to be a joke because “haha, women are irrational, amirite?,” and then Aang responds sarcastically, the blocking clearly places Aang and Katara in opposition to each other, with Aang facing away from her and Zuko between them and the closest person in the group to Katara. The intent was obviously to make the audience worry for Aang that Katara won’t reciprocate, but it actually makes Katara and Zuko look like the more appealing relationship if you are looking at it from Katara’s perspective.

And then Katara and Zuko spend the rest of the finale getting closer while Katara and Aang argue and then wordlessly play kissy face in the last two seconds of the show.

#zuko #katara #zutara #anti kataang #anti maiko #ember island players

[whatisthiswritingthing]

Observation Skills - Part Six - Lindsey Horan x Reader

Lindsey is at camp, her relationship continues to develop and she returns with a new found confidence.

“Alright, who are talking to?” Rose interrogated the next morning. They had been down for breakfast for almost half an hour now and Lindsey had hardly looked away from her phone, a smile glued to her face.

She had woken up to string of texts from Sara.

               Hot Trainer:       Lindsey…

                                               Terrible news

                                               It’s a tragedy

                                               Prepare yourself, sit down, whatever you need, but be ready

                                               Are you ready?

                                               I came to the gym this morning, worked out, showered, and then it happened

                                               Are you sitting now?

                                               I WAS OUT OF DINOSAUR OATMEAL!

                                               Tragic isn’t it?!

                                               It’s bad enough I don’t get to see you for three weeks, but now this?!

                                               I’ll leave you process this tragedy, I’m here if you need to talk. We will get through this.

 Waking to the plethora of texts with such a ridiculous story immediately put her in a good mood. And the blonde implying she would miss her definitely helped too.

                 Lindsey:               That is a tragedy, however will you survive?

               Hot Trainer:       Which? Not seeing you or dinosaurs? Not seeing you, you’ll just have to find a way to help me with that. Dinosaurs, there is no remedying that, I needed to suffer through Apple Cinnamon. Like an adult!

 Lindsey had sent a selfie after she had gotten ready for breakfast. The two continued to text the rest of the morning until Rose finally called her out.

“Who are you texting so much?”

“No one, don’t worry about it.”

“Bullshit, you have been glued to your phone all morning!” Sam joined in. “And you have such a stupid smile on your face.”

“Did Russell-wannabe-muscles, get his shit together and try to make up again?” Mal questioned

“Nice,” the two high fived with a smile and the cheesy nickname, looking to Lindsey for an answer.

“Fuck no, that’s never happening again,” the blonde midfielder replied adamantly, struggling to not pick her phone back up after hearing it go off again.

“Finally! So, who’s the new bae that has you all smitten?”

“Gross, never say that again. And no one,” Lindsey caved, picking her phone up trying to ignore Mal and Rose.

“Sonnett you are far too quiet about this,” Rose narrowed her eyes at the defender, “You know!”

“Who’s hot trainer?” Mal questioned loudly with a smile. Lindsey didn’t even notice she had left her chair and snuck up behind her, too focused on her conversation with Sara.

“Fuck, no one,” Lindsey quickly locked her phone and shoved it in her pocket.

“Oh no, that reaction definitely means it’s a someone!” Rose bounced in her seat across from her, then turned her head back to Sonnett, “What do you know!? Who is the hot trainer? Is it the trainer at your new gym?”

Rose, Mal, and Sam continued to fire questions at their fellow midfielder, occasionally pausing to discuss different possibilities between themselves.

Lindsey shrunk in on herself, the insecurities returning. Tobin and Emily had been so supportive, Sara made her feel comfortable, not that the other three wouldn’t be supportive but the sudden interrogation made it real. Real that this could be more than a crush, real that her last relationship hadn’t ended well (several times), real that her last relationship had been with a man and so had all the others. She understood that sexuality was fluid and fully believed anyone could love anyone, that wasn’t what bothered her. What bothered her was the sudden reality that this was more than a crush; that she wanted to tell her friends all about Sara, but also keep it to herself to figure out and enjoy

Taking a breath, Lindsey cut the other three at the table off while Emily sat and watched Lindsey process her thoughts.

“If you would simmer down for a second, I’ll tell you. It’s new and I don’t know what it is yet, so I’d like to keep it between us for now, please?”

At their nods, Lindsey looked to Sonnett for encouragement who smiled and nodded, then glanced down to the table and took a breath to steady her nerves.

“Her name is Sara. She is one of the trainers at the gym, we met a few weeks ago when I started training there. I trained with a couple times and we hit it off, we even went for coffee before I came to camp.”

The other soccer players weren’t phased by the news at all, quickly asking rapid fire questions again.

“Is she hot?” Mal asked first.

“Of course she’s hot, she swung Lindsey!” Rose commented with an eye roll.

“Can we see pictures?”

“Tell us about her?”

“How was coffee? Was it a date?’

“Does she know who you are?”

Horan quickly pulled up the most recent photo the trainer had sent of her and Blaze, turning her phone for everyone to see.

“She has a dog too?!” Rose asked, excited, disregarding the woman in the photo.

“That’s Blaze and that’s Sara, she brings him to the gym most of the time.”

Rose quickly lost interest in the blonde, more focused on the dog. Mal and Emily sliding closer to scroll through all the pictures.

“She’s gorgeous Linds, tell us about her,” Sam prompted, sensing the residual nerves.

“She’s great, coffee was incredible. I have no idea if it was a date, it was the first time we hung out outside of the gym. She’s so sweet and funny and smart. And so hot! Fuck, she’s so strong. Oh, she’s a firefighter!” Lindsey rambled, nervously fidgeting with the sleeves of her sweat.

“Wait, I thought you said she was a trainer at your gym?” Mal wondered.

“She is, she works as a firefighter and a trainer.”

“That’s so cool!”

The group continued to ask questions, Lindsey more than willing to answer them all. Talking about Sara to some of her closest friends made her feeling lighter than she had felt in a long time. It started to sink in the extent of her feelings for the trainer.

 For the rest of the day Lindsey felt incredible. Practice after breakfast had gone so well. Vlatco pushed them right from the start, and Lindsey felt like she had played some of the best soccer she had in a long. The fitness session in the afternoon she had passed all her previous scores, she felt strong, she felt fast, she felt good. Plus, between each session Lindsey came back to phone to a message from Sara, adding to her phenomenal mood.

Even the incessant teasing from her friends throughout the day couldn’t affect her mood. And totally worth it. Like now, with them all giving her strange looks while she laughs at the text Sara sent her. She had sent her a picture of two boxes of Dinosaur oatmeal.

               Hot Trainer:       Lindsey! Look it! All balance has been restored in the world!

At the loud snort of laughter, the table looked at her questioningly.

“You good there Linessi?” Sonnett question with a laugh of her own.

Lindsey gave vague yupp, never looking up from her phone, replying to the firefighter.

“I take it back, I do not support this,” Rose said, gesturing to Lindsey. “All those feels over there are disgusting me.”

Lindsey didn’t even look up from her phone.

The group just rolled their eyes, leaving Lindsey to her phone, knowing there was pulling her away from it.

For the rest of the camp, Lindsey’s routine stayed relatively the same. By the end of the second week, she was drained. Camp was exhausting, practices were hard, and fitness was harder, no matter how prepared you were. Being around so many people all the time was overwhelming. All Lindsey wanted to do wanted to do was curl up in her bed and sleep. Most of the team felt the same, so had all agreed to have a quiet night in in Lindsey and Emily’s room to watch a movie. Everyone already half asleep spread across the beds and chairs in the room.

Lindsey expressed how she was feeling to Sara, the other woman showing genuine interest in how camp was going. So really, she shouldn’t be surprised at how good she felt after opening up. It had never been like that with Russel; he always reminded her it was part of the job, Sara reassured her that feeling this way was normal. Where Russel would tell her if she trained harder, she wouldn’t be so sore, Sara would suggest a different stretch to help ease her muscles and joked to give her massage. When she would vent her frustrations, Russel would get irritated, Sara let her rant and express how she felt.

               Lindsey:               Sorry I’m not much fun to talk to today

               Hot Trainer:       Lindsey, you don’t have to apologize for anything. I’m here anytime you need to vent. Want me to tell you a funny story from work?

Sara validated her and made her feel better about herself in a few weeks than Russel ever had. Hell, she made Lindsey feel better in just this conversation.

Now laying on the bed surrounded by her friends, exhausted, hardly paying attention to the movie she still felt good. Being given the opportunity to talk about how she was feeling with judgment eased the tension in her chest. Sara was telling her a funny story about how her and the other firefighters convinced their rookie he needed to remind one of the older firemen to “use the potty” before bed to mess with him. The levity of the story helping draw Lindsey’s tense shoulders down and continuing to help her relax.

 The last week of camp flew by. Before she knew it, it was game day. They were playing Friday night, recovery and travel day Saturday; Lindsey couldn’t wait to be home. Lindsey had woken up to a hood luck text from Sara, who also said she would be watching the game as long as they didn’t get a call at the firehouse. Between that and getting the start, nothing could take away Lindsey’s good mood.

Knowing the blonde firefighter was watching her, Lindsey felt like she needed to impress her. And impress she did. There weren’t any nerves, she was motivated and ready to play come kick off. Right from the first whistle Lindsey was on fire; nothing got past her in the middle, she flew from box to box, nothing could stop her.

By the end of the game Lindsey had scored hat trick, plus recorded two assists, putting the US to 5-0 win. She was ecstatic, not only with the win but with how well shelf let she played the entire game. She felt like she was on such a high, roaming around the stadium taking pictures and signing autographs. Winning always felt good, but there was something about tonight, something about knowing she had someone special watching, someone that even though she knew wouldn’t judge her playing she still wanted to impress.

“Linds! You played incredible tonight!” Tobin came alongside her as they walked in the tunnel towards the change room. “Who knew all you needed was a hot blonde at home to get you to play this well.”

Lindsey gave Tobin a gentle shove, blushing and looking down. “Shut up,” she mumbled, shy because of the accuracy.

“What are you talking about Tobs, I live in Orlando now,” Sonnett joined in, slinging her arm around Lindsey.

“Wrong hot blonde Sonny,” Rose bounced past them, turning and walking backwards. “Toby definitely meant the hottie with the firefighter body,” Shooting a wink, she turned and skipped into the change room.

Lindsey again just blushed at how accurate it was. She made her way to her locker, immediately picking up her phone.

               Hot Trainer:       Great game superstar! You crushed it!

                                               The other team knew they were supposed to defend you, right?

Lindsey’s smile just grew at the texts. Mal leaned over to her, “you disgust me, you know that? Even Dansby and I weren’t that gross.”

“Yeah yeah yeah, I know, I just, I can’t help It,” Horan shrugged off the teasing, more than ok with it. It was more than worth it to get to talk to Sara.

The two continued to talk as they got ready to get on the bus, Mal teasing her every time Lindsey would reach for her phone.

 The next afternoon, after a quick recovery session, Lindsey was seated next to Tobin on the plane back to Portland.

“Alright Linds, what’s happening with you and your girl?” Tobin questioned once they were in the air.

“I really don’t know Tobs, we hit it off so well, this week has been great talking to her and I can’t wait to see her again this week. I just don’t know where to go from here, I want it to be more than just talking. But, but don’t know how,” the midfielder started to ramble, her nerves on the situation coming out. “What if she just wants to be friends? How do I know if she wants more? What if she doesn’t even like me?”

Tobin put a reassuring hand on her thigh.

“You’re overthinking it. She seems like she is pretty interested in you Linds. You just need to talk to her when you get home, ask her out again, make it clear you are interested. She sounds like she is pretty respectful, so I doubt she will be a jerk regardless.”

“I know; it sounds like it should be easy. She is relaxed and easy going, this whole camp she has been incredible to talk to.”

The continued to talk the entire flight, she was excited to see Sara, so it didn’t take much to convince her to tell her how she felt.

 Immediately after landing, Lindsey turned her phone on, eager to talk to the blonde trainer. Emboldened by the conversation she had with Tobin on the plane, she quickly texted her asking her to talk.

               Lindsey:               Hey! Just landed!

                                               Can we talk?

               Hot Trainer:       Uhh yea, I’m at work now. Did you want to text about it? We could call or we could do something when I’m off tonight?

               Lindsey:               How about tonight after you’re off work? In person would be better.

The two made plans to meet in two hours after Sara would get off work.

Lindsey rushed around her condo, quickly unpacking, starting a load of laundry before getting in the shower to get ready. Nerves returning while she thought about what she was going to say, she knew she had been vague when asking the blonde out, but she wanted to have the conversation in person. This conversation was too important to risk losing context over text.

Two hours later, Lindsey found herself waiting at the bar the two agreed to meet at, Sara coming right form work. Lindsey had chosen a quiet pub that would afford them the opportunity to have this conversation hopefully uninterrupted. She was seated at a booth near the back, legs bouncing, hands fidgeting with the coaster on the table, nerves settling low in her stomach.

The soccer player was startled out her thoughts as the object of her nerves slide into the booth across from her.

“Hey Linds, you alright?” Sara didn’t hesitate to question, her concern evident.

Lindsey sat up straighter in the booth, making eye contact with the blonde, forcing herself to stop fidgeting.

“Yea, I’m good, I just really needed to talk to you,” unable to make eye contact anymore, Lindsey looked at her hands at the table, hands resuming fidgeting.

Sara slid her hand across the table, grasping a fidgeting hand and rubbing her thumb across her knuckles.

“It’s alright Lindsey, take your time, you can tell me anything,” the trainer said soothingly.

“I know, I’m just nervous, I’ve never done this before. So maybe, fuck, just let me try and say everything and then you can ask questions? Or leave, umm which I hope you don’t, but yea,” Lindsey trailed off.

“Of course, take your time,” she repeated, still rubbing her thumb on Lindsey’s knuckles.

“So I like you, like, like like you. Fuck, I sound like a 13-year-old. But I do, I have feelings for you. I got teased all camp for being ‘smitten’ anytime we talked. These last few weeks have been great, talking to always puts a smile on my face and I look forward to seeing you at the gym every day,” Lindsey started, but then hesitated, debating what to say next. Sara’s thumb never stopping on her knuckles.

At her hesitancy, Sara stepped in, “I like you too Lindsey, as in like like you,” she mimicked. “I was so happy when you asked me out before you left, I’m not sure I would have had the guts to do it.”

Both women paused to look at each other, making eye contact they both smiled softly. Sensing Lindsey’s hesitation, Sara continued.

“I’d really like to take you on another date Lindsey Horan, if you will let me, of course.”

“Of course you can take me on another date,” Lindsey smiled, blushing. “It’s just, I’ve just, I’ve never done this before.”

“Never gone on a date?” Sara teased. “That’s fine, takes the pressure off on me to top any in the past.”

“No, I’ve been on a date before,” She chuckled to herself, but blushed, looking down again, still hesitating. “I’ve umm, never been on a date with a woman.”

“There’s nothing wrong with that Linds, we can do this entirely at your pace. Whatever you are comfortable with.”

Lindsey shook her head at that, she knew she had been nervous for nothing, how was this woman so perfect?

All her nerves before the conversation started gone, it had gone better than she could have anticipated.

The two stayed at the pub for another two hours, Sara promising to ‘woo’ her on a date when she was off next. Conversation moving on, flowing easy as usual.

Similar to when they went for coffee, Sara opened all the doors on the way out, placing a hand on her Lindsey’s back to guide her out and while walking her to her car.

“Is this ok?” the trainer asked, leaning closer to her.

“More than ok Sara,” Lindsey said, leaning even closer, pressing her side into Sara’s.

Lindsey felt like she was on fire as they walked down the street. She could feel the heat from Sara body, and solidness of her muscles; it made her want to feel more of it.

When they got to Lindsey’s car, the two blondes stayed close. Lindsey leaned against the car, boldly pulling Sara into her. Sara moved one hand Lindsey’s hip, her other hand resting on the roof of the car next to Lindsey’s head.

“I had a great time tonight, I can’t wait for this date you are going to ‘woo’ me with,” Lindsey placed both hands on Sara’s hips.

“I did too, glad you asked me out tonight,” Sara took a step back, removing her hands from the car and Lindsey.

Lindsey stood to her full height too, sensing the blonde’s hesitancy.

“You can hug me.”

“Yea?” Sara asked softly, stepping in close again, gently wrapping Lindsey in a hug at the midfielder’s nod.

Once they separated, Sara leaned down and opened the car for Lindsey. Lindsey slid into the driver seat.

The two bid each other good-bye, Sara turned and walked towards her own vehicle.

Lindsey sat back in her car, smiling as she watched the firefighter walk away in her rearview mirror.

#uswnt imagine #uswnt imagines #uswnt x reader #lindsey horan x reader #lindsey horan imagine #lindsey horan imagines

[fantasy-dating-sim-trash]

I posted 3,029 times in 2021

64 posts created (2%)

2965 posts reblogged (98%)

For every post I created, I reblogged 46.3 posts.

I added 392 tags in 2021

#obey me - 60 posts

#obey me satan - 56 posts

#obey me shall we date - 55 posts

#shall we date - 49 posts

#satan obey me - 42 posts

#satan - 41 posts

#i mean damn - 24 posts

#obey me mc - 22 posts

#holy shiiiiiiit - 22 posts

#obey me main character - 21 posts

Longest Tag: 78 characters

#who makes spread sheets for a catch game and thinks its fun?!? apparently i do

My Top Posts in 2021

#5

How to eat Crayons

MC: "Who takes off the wrapper when they're eating crayons? Just eat the entire crayon, don't be a bitch!"

All 7 brothers: ... *blinks in the audacity of this bitch*

Satan: that's not healthy! Nor should you be consuming a product that's not intended to be eaten.

Lucifer: MC you've been spending too much time around Mammon.

Satan: however if you have eaten crayons can I ask you some questions? *puts head on his hands to study the MC* I'm interested in knowing how it could potentially effect a humans body. Don't spare any details. *Pulls out a pen & notebook*

Lucifer: *pinches the bridge of his nose* Don't encourage this kind of behavior Satan.

Mammon: *offended noises*

Levi: *snickers*

Asmo: *horrified* MC That CANT POSSIBLY GOOD FOR HOW U LOOK!?! You can't do that to your gorgeous self!!

Beel: wait you can't eat crayons?!?

Belphie: Beel we talked about this. *sighs* No you can't eat crayons.

Beel: *puts a finger up to ask a question*

Belphie: yes that means with & without the wrapper.

Lucifer: *gets out of his chair* I'm done I can't do this anymore. Don't talk to me for the rest of the night... Wait make it the rest of the week. All of you are giving me an intense migraine. *leaves*

MC, Satan & Belphie: *share a look*

Beel: *sad demon noises*

Belphie: *pats Beel on the back*

106 notes • Posted 2021-07-06 07:27:39 GMT

#4

MC: *sitting on the counter in the kitchen legs swinging* Hey, Beel. I've got a question for you.

Beel: *looks up from the fridge* What's the question MC?

MC: Do you think different foods help with different cravings?

Beel: *forehead scrunched and goes back to looking in the fridge* I'm not sure I follow. Like different cravings? Like you're just hungry? Maybe go eat something?

MC: *shakes their head smiling* Not that kinda craving Beel. A different kind, I guess? Like chicken NUGGIES! *nods their head* Like how nuggies can only satisfy the craving for death for a short period of time!

Beel: *head whips up confusion and concern evident on his face* Satisfy a craving for what now MC? Why would you crave that??? Do you need to talk about anything? I'm always here if you need to talk or vent about anything that's bothering you?

MC: *laughing* I mean that's a very Beel response. I'm not sure what I expected as an answer but that sure didn't disappoint me. Its just back in the human world most people aren't what you would call okay I guess. So we often joke about it a lot. As a way to deal or cope with all the stress we feel. Since we relate to the fact being alive is really hard and hasn't gotten easy as time has gone on.

Beel: That's not a very good thing to joke about. It is kinda worrying that you think that talking of that as a joke.

Satan: *blinks in shock while walking into the kitchen* I'm not entirely sure what I walked in on, but if it helps I'm always down to bring some anarchy to the human world. *smirks* You know just for some additional fun and chaos. Plus it would be fun to add a little spice to humans boring, mundane lives up there. *shrugs* Also MC my door is always open for you if need to talk about whats going on in your brain. *flushes red slightly and looks away*

MC: *give a small smile* Thanks both of you for the offer. I really appreciate it and I'll take you both up on it, if the need arises. I promise! Oh Satan I was just asking Beel if he thought specific foods would help with different cravings. Like how nuggies make the craving to die go away for a little while. *quizzically cocks head slightly to the side* Do you have any interesting thoughts about this?

Satan: *goes to fill his water bottle of water, pondering* You mean like how spicy foods help with the craving of stopping your thought process temporarily? It's Especially helpful when you want to stop with any kind of negative thinking. Since you're more focused on how spicy the food is, and how it burns your mouth? That it stops you thinking about anything else except the burn. However that probably would only work if the person has a low spice tolerance. You mean like that MC?

Beel: *concern growing and his jaw drops in worry starts picking at the food at random*

MC: *snaps their fingers* YES EXACTLY LIKE THAT! You understood what I was getting at! Like that Beel?

Beel: *concerned noises and starts grabbing bigger quantities of food from the fridge* Are either of you okay? How... What... *his eyes going wide and flickering from side to side, starting to mindlessly pitting the food on the countertop beside MC*

MC & Satan: *share a look*

MC: I think we may have broken his brain a little bit.

Satan: *walks up near the MC closing the water bottle* I'm in agreement with you on that one. I think he's just buffering and trying to process what we said. Just give him a minute.

Beel: *puts the last of the food on the countertop, closes the fridge finally looks at both the MC and Satan*

MC & Satan: * eyebrows raised*

Beel: *grabs both of them into a bear hug and squeezes them tightly* You know I care about the both of you right? I love you both a lot!

MC: *squeaks tries to squirm* Beel ...you're crushing... me a little...

Satan: *squirms and struggling to get out of Beel's grip, getting red in the face* Beel, I'm gonna ask you nicely. Could you possibly please let go of us? You might hurt MC if you squeeze any tighter! They're human and a bit more fragile than us.

Beel: *shakes his head although loosening his grip a little bit* Nope! Not happening! Right now I'm making sure the both of you know you're valued and loved. Since that's part of being a family! We may fight and argue but we're supposed to be there for each other at the end of the day! So I want you to know I'm there for each of you!

Satan & MC: *look at each other in defeat knowing that when Beel has made up his mind theres no changing it. They both stop struggling and just let him hug them. Both of them internally vowing to make sure not to make him this concerned over them again. Plus Beel did give the best hugs out of all the brothers*

Beel: *happy demon noises as he hugs them*

Belphie: *walks into the kitchen wondering where his twin was sees the current scene happening. snickers and sighs a little to himself while slowly backing away fully knowing what happened. Since he's made that mistake before and not wanting to get dragged into it. He really did have the best twin brother, he was sure of it. Smiling to himself he goes back to his shared room to have a nap*

115 notes • Posted 2021-07-14 04:17:13 GMT

#3

Lucifer: I've got three moods.

Lucifer: 'Existing'

Lucifer: : 'staring at the wall',

Lucifer: or 'working'. That's all I know how to do.

Satan: *popping his head in* You give yourself too little credit about what you know how to do. You forgot you know all about being Diavolo's bitch boy! *starts running away cackling*

Lucifer: *goes after him*

Later

Mammon: *finds Satan strung upside down from the chandelier*

Satan: Totally worth being strung up! It just proves my whole point! *looks at Mammon blonde hair hanging out of his face* What?!? Lucifer and I had a creative difference in opinion. He said he only knew how to do three things. I just pointed out the fact that it wasn't true. He knows all about being Diavolo's little bitch boy.

Mammon: *laughing* Honestly that makes sense. But you forgot the most obvious thing he knows all about doing.

Satan: *eyes shine* Oh and what would that be? *smirking and his eyes go a bit wide but that fact goes completely unnoticed by Mammon*

Mammon: *shrugs* As if you don't already know. The most obvious fact he forgot is that he's a huge buzz kill and ruins any chance of fun we try to have by being an overbearing dictator.

Satan: *snickers and scoffs* Oh. How could I forget about that?

Mammon: *realization hits, sighing* He's behind me isn't he?

Satan: *raises an eyebrow* What do you think?

Even later

MC: *finds both brothers string upside down from the chandelier, sighing* What did you two do this time?

Mammon: *scoffs* You assume we did something wrong? Ha!

MC: Gives a pointed look*

Satan: *looks at Mammon* Mammon you really aren't all there sometimes I swear. Obviously something happened BECAUSE WE'RE STRUNG UPSIDE DOWN! *coughs* From the chandelier.

Mammon: oh right. Yeah we messed up. *shrugs*

Satan: We were just honest with Lucifer and he didn't like our version of the truth. Weirdly enough Mammon and I agreed on something for once.

Mammon: yeah! Like he only knows how to only do three things? As if!

Satan: Clarifying on Mammon's point, Lucifer said he only knew how to do three things. I then told him that he knew more than what he was giving himself credit for. Like he knows all about being Daivolo's little bitch boy.

Mammon: I then found Satan string up from here. Then told Satan the he forgot the most obvious thing Lucifer knows how to do. That being such a pain in my ass or a massive buzz kill whenever anyone wants to have any kind of fun. *grumbling*

MC: *laughing and smiles* I think you two are forgetting another thing he knows how to do pretty well! That is stringing his brothers upside down from the chandelier as a form of punishment. So he knows how to do more than 6 things clearly! *sees the look on the boys grim faces then feels a looming presence behind them, sighs* He's behind me isn't he?

Mammon & Satan: *small nods*

MC: *whispering* damn it..

Even more later

MC: *hanging right side up with the two brothers upside down* He's such a god damn buzz kill! He's so goddamn sensitive about what anyone says about him! He think he knows everything. Holy hell, he really doesn't know how to handle the god damn truth!

See the full post

136 notes • Posted 2021-07-13 04:18:39 GMT

#2

MC: *yelling at their D.D.D. screen* QUEER baiting is wrong, so LETS ATTEMPT MURDER! *sighs* Fucking hell why would they do such a thing!?! Don't pander to the community and say explicitly there's gonna be queer CONTENT ONLY FOR THERE TO BE NONE OR LIKE A 60 SECOND CLIP!

Satan: *pops his head through the door* Did I hear someone mention murder? *walks into the room*

Belphie: *wakes up from his nap on the couch* Murder?

Mammon: *attempting to walk into the room nonchalantly* What kinda murder we talking about here? Not that I care that much about it anyway but you might as well tell me while I'm here anyway. *flops on the ground near the MC*

MC: it's just this show I enjoy. The creators of it announced that there was gonna be a canon queer ship in the new season, and I will say they sounded mighty excited about it. Only for one of the queer couples to be killed off within like a minute of showing the representation!!! How could they do that!?! I just wanna murder them for doing that. *pouts, puffing out cheeks* it ain't fair!

Asmo: * walking into the room as well, then fluffs and ruffles the MC's hair giving them a hug from behind* You're so adorable when your mad MC!! I didn't think you could get any more adorable!?! How ever we don't want those wrinkles to leave any marks do we? And for them to make you less cute. *pats their cheek, moving to the front of the MC then sitting next to them*

Mammon: OI! STOP TOUCHING AND GETTING HANDSY WITH THE MC, ASMO! I WAS THEIR FIRST! YOU NEED TO BACK OFF!

Asmo: *rolls his eyes*

Lucifer: *storming into the room* What the hell is all this commotion I'm hearing out here!!! I can't do all this paperwork or get any WORK DONE THAT I need to with all of you making so much damn noise!

MC: *Glares* I want to attempt MURDER LUCIFER! I'M VERY UPSET RIGHT NOW! CAN'T YOU TELL HOW DISTRAUGHT I AM!

Beel: *comes into the room with a mouth full of food* waph abpfft Murffph fjdbdisnem?

Lucifer: *pinching the bridge of his nose sighing* MC, you need to stop acting like Asmo; we only have room in this house for one drama queen. And Beel how many time do I have to tell you NOT to talk with your mouth full of food. Nobody can understand what you're trying to say.

Asmo: I AM NOT A DRAMA QUEEN LUCI! *puffs up like a cat and dramatically gasps* How could you say such uncouth things about me! I am the absolute epitome of beauty and grace! You take that back Lucifer!

Satan:*sighs* Lucifer can you just shut the hell up and let the MC explain. It's not that hard to let other people or demons speak without you interrupting them. You could just let others speak their mind and have an opinion that doesn't align with your own for once. Or are you too proud to admit it?

Beel: *food swallowed at this point* My bad, I said what about murder?

Levi: *barging in all huffy* ughhhhh what's with all the noise I can't watch the newest episode of my anime! Can't you normies be quiet at any time of the day?!? There's only so much time in THE DAY TO WATCH ALL OF THE STUFF. I'll never get caught up at this rate.

Lucifer: Satan... You better watch what you're saying or I'm GONNA STRING YOU UP NEXT TO MAMMON FROM THE BANNISTER OR THE CHANDELIER!

Mammon: OI! WHAT DID I EVEN DO THIS TIME!?!

MC: *realizing this spiraling out of control, and that they have to say why their angry quickly and loudly* OMG Y'ALL NEED TO SHUT UP AND STOP ARGUING ALL THE DAMN TIME! I'M UPSET OVER A SHOW I WAS WATCHING QUEER BAITING THE ENTIRE COMMUNITY!!!

Everyone: *blinks in stunned silence*

Levi: *understanding crosses his features* I'll summon Lotan!!! Thats such an unfair and unusually cruel thing to do!!! We can murder them by drowning or Lotan can do it! I hate it when creators of a show do that to their audience!!! WHAT IS WRONG WITH THEM!?! Its like when you think a ship is gonna happen in a story and it gets all set up and then they go the completely OFF the rails IN THE OPPOSITE DIRECTION!

Satan: *nods and scoffs in annoyance* That's the absolute worst. Like what was the whole point in setting up that plot and storyline!?! It was a complete waste of everyone's time. *grins* I've definitely got some nice spells and curse I've been dying to try out, that we could use on the creators.

Asmo: We can totally ruin their reputation on all social media platforms!!!

*everyone else starts slowly getting angry about it and starts supporting the idea making plans on how to murder the creators who made you upset*

MC: *sitting there dumbfounded at how fast the mood changed, and it how seriously they were contemplating actually murdering these people*

Mammon: so we are all in agreement then. WE RIDE AT DAWN TO MURDER SOME QUEER BAITING BITCHES!

246 notes • Posted 2021-07-11 04:10:48 GMT

#1

MC: *grumpy* fuck being nice Imma start biting people

Lucifer: *walks past* You need to be on your best behavior MC. To set a good example to the rest of the exchange program.

MC: *glares then bites Lucifer's arm*

Lucifer: *looks down like Excuse me*

Satan & Belphie: *snickering*

Belphie: I guess they do bite? Who knew?

Asmo: *looks over* That's kind of kinky. You know MC u can always bite me, and we can do more than just that if your down for it.*practical purrs that out* The invitation is always available and only just for you *smirks & winks*

Lucifer: *glares* you have to the count of 3 MC to get off my arm or else the punishment will be severe. I do not care if you're a human. Get OFF NOW!!

Mammon & Levi: *attempting to pull MC off Lucifer's arm*

MC: *bites down harder out of spite*

Mammon: You don't wanna piss him off MC! Now is not a good time to do that!

Levi: It would be wise to stop biting him MC! You don't wanna be strung up from the banister!

Satan: *is filming the whole ordeal*

Beel: if u want MC u can have one of my lollipops? Instead of biting Lucifer. *hands over an extra giant spiral lollipop he had been saving*

MC: *reluctantly let's go, and takes the lollipop* FINE! I'll stop. for now... Thanks Beel! I appreciate you sharing this with me! *smiles at him then starts to eat it, while grumbling* He shouldn't have told me what to do, fucking bitch.

Lucifer: *glaring*

The other 6 brothers: *trying not to laugh*

341 notes • Posted 2021-07-10 04:10:54 GMT

Get your Tumblr 2021 Year in Review →

#my 2021 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review

[suspiciousbystander]

My relationships with every agents from VP

Brimstone: I respect him like a father. I'll always listen and maybe ask his advice about stuff regarding the protocol

Phoenix: gaming buddy that I can beat

Sage: I will vent my mind to her and I believe she would come up with some good words of encouragement. She won't rudely lecture us when we're feeling down. Yes, she's the big sister.

Sova: training instructor. He knows how to shoot and we can learn from him. I mean, he'll be very gentle and polite when teaching us

Viper: she looks lonely. I might try to approach her, offer her some coffee if I find out she's working overtime. She might push me away at first, but I know she'll appreciate it

Cypher: he's my crush. And he probably knows it already. He would be alert at first, but if I approach him correctly, he's all fluffy when nobody's around. I'd somehow feel safe around him. He'd appreciate my presence.

Reyna: avoid at all cost. If you fail, do your best not to offend her

Killjoy: bestie! I would come to her workshop and bring her refreshments like coffee/tea/milk and some snacks. That'll distract her from working too much and maybe we'd ended up watching movies together

Breach: I don't hate him but I also don't like being around him. I can handle it if it's for a bit, but I know this man is loud. Maybe Killjoy would try to persuade me into getting her tools back from him

Omen: just like Sage, but he's the big bro version. I can vent to him and he's a good listener. I think he's kinda protective, so he would be surprisingly good at taking care of us. Especially when we forget to eat.

Jett: shopping buddy! She knows all kind of places. Clothing? Hobbies stuff? Food? Good photo destinations? Even a good boba tea shop? You name it, she'd probably know the best places for them.

Raze: I'm an introvert that doesn't like around noisy places. But Raze isn't always loud. Surprisingly, she knows how to match a person with their type of music. Go ask her what song you'll most likely like. She got you!

Skye: she's friendly. Very friendly. She would teach us yoga or take us to a good place surrounded by nature if we want to "heal"

Yoru: another gaming buddy. Unfortunately, he would always try hard and not let us win even just one time. He would teach us how to clear a level if we sulk about it. "ugh, you're so bad. You should be doing it like this". His tips are great though!

Kay/O: another instructor. Different from Sova, he'd even point out our wobbly formation when shooting. He's blunt, but his judgement is accurate. Bear with him, he might hurt your feelings but he's right, though

Astra: she knows how to crack jokes. So we can come to her when we want to distract our minds from something depressing and sad! She'll make you laugh. And she's probably know you're feeling down

Chamber: surprisingly, he told us that he use the narcissist persona to drive people away because he doesn't feel safe around everybody else. But us, he especially likes us because in his eyes, we seem neutral. In exchange to listening to his rambling, he'll treat you your favorite desserts. And maybe let you try his Tour de Force

Neon: she's the one who would always look for me. She's like the little sister who wants to take care of her big sis/bros. "I have adobo! I cooked them myself. Wanna eat together?". She's not offering, she's pleading cutely

#valorant

[shespeaksinsongs]

May I have a ship 🍄 for HP of golden trio era? Preferably male, thank you 💞

𝗕𝗔𝗦𝗜𝗖𝗦 + 𝗔𝗣𝗣𝗘𝗔𝗥𝗔𝗡𝗖𝗘

I'm 19, Southeast Asian with Spanish descent, Libra, ENFJ-A/ENFJ-T, Neutral Good, Ravenclaw, and a Bi Pan Genderfluid girl using the pronouns She/Her or He/Him. A friend of mine told me that I (kinda) look like Marinette from 𝗠𝗶𝗿𝗮𝗰𝘂𝗹𝗼𝘂𝘀 𝗟𝗮𝗱𝘆𝗯𝘂𝗴, Musa from 𝗪𝗶𝗻𝘅 𝗖𝗹𝘂𝗯, and Alexandra Trese from 𝗧𝗿𝗲𝘀𝗲 (a Netflix animated series), but the exception is I'm short (5'1.2") plus sized Southeast Asian woman with Spanish descent that has messy/wavy brunette medium hair, chocolate brown eyes, oriental skin and a small beauty mark on the forehead. My sense of fashion is in between emo and boyish plus korean glam.

𝗣𝗘𝗥𝗦𝗢𝗡𝗔𝗟𝗜𝗧𝗬

Distant, quiet, and shy at first cause' I dunno how to initiate a conversation, but a total opposite if I open up---friendly, ambivert, witty, laughing loudly on a daily basis, talkative, eats a lot, awkward, daydreamer (I got embarrassed from knocking at the door even I'm inside the classroom 😂), EXTREMELY CLUMSY (mostly tends to get bruises from bumping and being careless to my belongings), secretly likes affection, easily overwhelmed, prone to melt over wholesomeness, flusters on compliments, lightly blushes on cheesy banters, eager to share what I know (especially about Catholic Church---my past teacher joked that I'll become a saint because of it 🤣), oftenly speaks full of sarcasm with a lowkey crackhead energy citing meme references, and talented girl who can be your no.1 supporter and unashamed to be true to myself. In terms of leadership, I only educate and guide than being a prefect (I might take the role seriously), will lift my group when there's lacking/incompleteness. About doing projects in school, I become too extra and prepared for efforts, but I'll forget the process in the end.

People thought I'm a demure self-effacing woman that looks "immaculate" or "one of a kind," (due to my protective parents, a reason why I've never been in a relationship) but the truth is, I'm eloquent, warm-hearted, willig to help, kind, intelligent, supportive, nice, creative, enthusiastic, laid-back, determined, tough, competitive, and feisty outside, but a real softie that can be childish and dramatic that cries so easily (but will enlightened real quick by smallest things that makes me smile) filled with doubts, frustrations, and insecurities with fear of failure that pushes off the limits to to please everyone because they might get dissappointed from expectations, yet I still managed to be stronger than ever, even it's a slow burn process. I can be intimidating, sassy, and a douchebag if I receive ends. Immature, headstrong, perfectionist, demanding, hesitant, jumpy, very indecisive, overthinker, quick-tempered, sensitive, and anxious (no joke, my nervousness makes me think worse scenario will arrive). Though can be procrastinator and arrogant, I raised as a religious 𝖺𝗇𝖽 diplomatic person, willing to fight what I believe (including my dreams and what's important to me) and what is right. In addition, I have a habit of staying up late and doing sign of the cross to ease nervousness.

Blunt but the loudest idiotic feeling-brokenhearted and bitter friend in the group who fangirl a lot, swears like sailor, will call out on people that we loathe, will crack up over your stupid antics before helping, vent out everything I despise (having a bad day, toxicity, poorly written soap operas, how am unlucky when it comes to love life) and bring gossips, but a hopeless romantic who tends to banter with sarcasms or pick up lines as an endearment (but gets grumpy if I received sappy or offensive one), Still generous and concerned person in a subtle way.

𝗘𝗫𝗧𝗥𝗔 𝗜𝗡𝗙𝗢

My hobbies are singing, drawing, roleplaying, listening to music, chatting/browsing on social media, conceptualizing, writing, and reading some stuffs. I'll include making corniest jokes/puns, sleeping, and dancing when nobody's around or walking like a model if I feel so bold (even I'm terrible at both xD). I also used to learn Italian language a bit. Lastly, my best assets are smile, eyes, personality, singing voice, artistic skills, writings, intelligence, and oratorical skills...so I can consider myself as a singer, artist, orator, and a top student who's a former campus ministry member (choir member, psalm singer, and reader) and in coming college freshman. Currently learning how to cook and have so many interests, to the point I don't know what I'm into because of my dreams to become a popular Filipino YouTuber, a novelist, and being part of a successful chorale...I also consider joining pageants too once the pandemic ends, but maybe.

okay. this was a tough one, but i finally settled on fred and george. i think you'd be best with fred weasley by a CLOSE SECOND to george.

you mentioned that you're into banter and pick-up lines as endearment - and i think that is so fred weasley. george strikes me as the softer, sweeter, twin, who is more likely to be dominated, but i think you and fred having an equally dominant personality would make for an interesting relationship! additionally, the secretly likes affection thing would go smoothly with fred. i think fred is a more "quality time" and "acts of service" kind of guy, but affection is never rejected for him, and he quite enjoys it! the hobbies you mentioned seem like things he might love to do, or encourage you to do! it even gave me a good idea for a fic, which i think i will be releasing tomorrow if i can. will tag you, of course. head-strong, sassy, and being quick-tempered would keep fred on his toes, and i think that's one of his favorite things about you. he'd love that he's always on the edge with you. he doesn't know where he's going, but he doesn't mind. i think fred really likes someone who's not afraid to let themselves get out there, and you pursuing your dreams so fearlessly, along with your passions, makes for a pretty good match to me. besides that, i think fred would definitely try to dig beneath the surface, or the "demure" demeanor you give off. based on your description of yourself, i think he would find somebody worth being with.

he would definitely see you in the hallways and pretend not to know you sometimes, hitting on you as if you weren't already together. i think he most definitely thinks it's both cute and scary when you're angry, seeing as your height and personality clash (in a good way, dw). teases you for being clumsy, but he thinks it's cute. aside from the normal nicknames, he probably calls you "my pretty witch", or "my smart baby ravenclaw". he likes head pats, and uses you as an elbow rest to annoy you sometimes. i think he would also think you're stunning. like he would almost worship you and your entire body. gives you kisses on the beauty mark on your forehead a lot, especially if you're cuddling. he almost can't resist. loves your style and tries to copy it, but decides that it's reserved for you in his mind, so he goes back to his normal style, admiring all your different outfits. stays up late with you on nights you can't sleep or don't want to. starts cursing a lot after he met you. he gets into the habit, and every conversation with you is a swearing mess. gives you kisses on the cheeks randomly to see how off-guard he can catch you and see how flustered you get. LOVES when you blush. it's his favorite thing about you.

<3 thank you so much for your submission.

#hlbutterflycelebration

[trashyswitch]

3 Times Afton Was an Idiot, and 1 Time Afton Admitted it

Throughout the years of working together, Henry has always decided that Will was the idiot between the two. William accidentally proves this 4 separate times throughout their business partnership, and actually admits it on the 4th time!

Yay! 1st FNAF fanfic in a month! Feels good to be writing William and Henry again. I missed these two.

Henry was trying to work on the inner workings of Foxy. He had just finished putting some wires through the head and spread them onto its shoulders. With the cords in place, Henry started taping them down to the endoskeleton.

He was so busy working on Foxy, that he barely noticed the presence of William walking up behind him with a Freddy Fazbear plush and a Bonnie plush.

Henry started connecting the cords together, when he felt two things hopping on his back. Henry lifted an eyebrow, but ignored it to try and plug the cords into the arm cords.

“Hey Freddy!” Bonnie (William with a high voice) said, shaking back and forth.

“Yes Bonnie?” Freddy (William with a low voice) replied.

“I’m very curious about those weird guys in that bright office. Who are they?” Bonnie asked.

Freddy bounced himself up to the top of Henry’s shoulder. “You don’t know? They created us! They created me, and you!” Freddy told the bonnie plush.

“Really?! I didn’t know that!” Bonnie reacted.

Henry blinked and stared into the abyss in slight annoyance. “William, what are you doing?” He asked.

Ignoring Henry’s question, William turned Freddy’s body around to Bonnie as if he had just heard the stupidest thing ever. “You...didn’t know...that Henry Emily and William Afton are our creators?” Freddy reacted.

William made Bonnie jump onto Henry’s other shoulder. “Well yeah, I knew that.” Bonnie replied. “But who are those people in the offices, making noises and ruining our speakers?” Bonnie asked.

Freddy looked at Bonnie with flat anger. William started shaking Freddy front and back in anger. “THOSE ARE HENRY EMILY AND WILLIAM AFTON, YOU NUMB NUT!” Freddy (William) shouted.

Henry waved the plushes off his shoulders. “Stop that! I’m trying to work!” Henry told him.

William only continued. “...He doesn’t like us…” Bonnie (high-pitched William) told Freddy.

“Why not?” Freddy Fazbear (deep-voiced William) asked.

“I don’t know. He sounds cranky.” Bonnie reacted.

William moved Freddy closer and closer to Henry’s face. Finally, Freddy shook back and forth a little. “Yeah, you’re right. He DOES look cranky!” Freddy replied.

“Alright, that’s enough. Showtime’s over, dumbass.” Henry ordered, taking the plushies from William and walking away from him.

Even without the plushies, William was still doing the voices. “NOOO! WILLIAM! HELP US! THE EVIL HENRY IS TAKING US AWAY!” Bonnie shouted.

“Let us go, fiend! You may have made us, but you know better than to kidnap your own creations!” Freddy yelled at Henry.

Henry turned around and yeeted both the plushes at William. William just laughed as both plushes bounced off his chest. “Ohohokahahay, ohokahay! I’m done! I’m done!” William laughed.

“You’re so annoying.” Henry told him.

William snorted a little and turned his voice into Bonnie’s again. “Wow! What an asshole!” William (Bonnie) declared.

William quickly ducked as an empty metal trash can was thrown at him next!

...Followed by a backpack.

[A Couple Weeks Later]

Henry and William were getting all the TV’s set up to display all the camera footage. They just finished getting the equipment in, and they were now connecting everything.

Well...More like Henry was. William had to be temporarily banned from touching the techy stuff because he kept messing up the cord placements.

At least he was being careful when bring the equipment into the place.

“One small question: Why is the security guard’s office way in the back?” William asked.

“Because we wanted the security guard completely separated from the kids activities.” Henry replied.

“Why couldn’t we put the office upstairs?” William asked.

Henry slowly turned to look at him. “...How many times have you been here, exactly?” Henry asked.

“The same amount of times as you.” William replied.

Henry plugged a cord into the machine without even looking, and stared at William in pure disbelief. “I’m surprised you’re not aware of this… but we have NO upstairs!” Henry told him.

“We don’t?” William clarified.

Henry pushed the front of William’s hat bill down. “Where would the upstairs be? Huh? There’s no hidden stairs.” Henry told him.

William fixed his hat. “But...I thought the vents might lead somewhere.” William offered, proving just how little common sense he’s developed over the years.

Henry wheezed and looked away. “Ihif you think the vents are gonna lead you somewhere, then you can go find out for yourself.” Henry joked.

William blinked a couple times, before smiling and grabbing a nearby step ladder.

Henry continued to plug in the cords on his own. He plugged a few of the cords into the 2nd TV to get it turned on, and then started to plug all the cameras into the two Beta recorders and plug that into the two TV’s. Soon, the video footage started showing up!

Henry slowly removed his hands from the technology in accomplishment. “Hey Will! Check it out, I got the cameras set up!” Henry declared.

Suddenly, Henry heard a metal clang that could’ve come from far away. Henry dropped his arms to his sides and widened his eyes.

He did not...Did he?!

Henry looked over to the left and right, trying to determine which vent he could’ve gone into. To find this out, Henry looked for the location of the step ladder. After a bit of walking around, Henry quickly found the step ladder set up under the left vent.

Wow...He really went and did it…

Henry folded up the step ladder and carried it with him while he walked the vents’ pathway. Halfway down the vent direction, Henry set up the step ladder. “Hey Will! You in here?” Henry asked before knocking on the vent.

“HEY HENRY! IMAGINE IF I DIED IN HERE! HOW LONG WOULD MY BODY GO UNFOUND?” William asked out of nowhere.

Henry widened his eyes. “I-...What?” Henry asked, knowing it was a joke, but still slightly worried.

Suddenly, a clanging sound was heard. Henry started running further down the hall, following the vent’s direction and looked around for an exit to the vent. But a couple seconds later, Henry watched as a vent door opened, and William came falling out of the vent with a loud shriek. William hit the floor with a loud splat, and Henry widened his eyes in surprise and horror. Holy CRAP!

Henry sprinted up to him. “Are you okay?!” Henry asked, staring at his best friend’s body.

William’s body was completely covered in vent dust, and the dust was STILL raining down from the vent screen he opened. William blinked in surprise. “Ow.” He muttered.

Henry couldn’t help himself: the man bursted out laughing at William’s stupidity! “Whyhyhy did you ACTUALLY climb in the vents?!” Henry asked.

William blinked and looked away, slightly flustered. “...Because I wanted to know if there was a secret door.” William replied.

Henry just laughed further and mentally thanked himself for getting the cameras plugged in and recording when he did.

[A few weeks later:]

Henry was cracking open a couple beers, and handed one of them to William. “A toast: to the success of Freddy Fazbear’s Pizzeria!” Henry declared.

“Cheers!” William and Henry both declared, clinging the noses of their beers together before taking a gulp out of their bottles.

Elizabeth huffed at her regular cup. “I want a glass bottle!” Elizabeth begged.

“Can I have one too?” Michael asked.

William just about choked on his beer. “Hohold up, what? No! This is big boy juice.” William told him.

“But I’m a big boy.” Michael argued.

“I can’t have it because I’m a girl?” Elizabeth asked.

Henry looked at William with a ‘look what you’ve done’ look on his face. “Big girls can have the juice too. But very big girls, who make good choices.” Henry told them both.

“I’m a big girl. I can make good choices.” Elizabeth argued.

Henry narrowed his eyes. Can she tho? Can she really?

Suddenly, William stood up and walked to the kitchen. “Tell you what: I can make it up to you.” William decided, before grabbing his empty beer collection off the high shelf. William pulled out a pair of smaller, high life beer bottles out of the collection and rinsed the bottles out good. Then, William grabbed some apple juice from the fridge, and dumped some apple juice into both the bottles. “There! Now you can enjoy having bottles too.” William told the kids, handing them the fake beers.

“Thank you Dad!” Michael said happily.

“Yay! Thanks Daddy!” Elizabeth declared happily.

“You’re welcome!” William replied.

Henry widened his eyes. “I...that’s smart..,but also so stupid! Will, your wife is going to be FURIOUS!” Henry yelled.

William scoffed and waved it off. “It’ll be fine when she tastes it.” William replied. “Besides: she knows I’m not stupid.” William told him.

Henry lifted an eyebrow. “Does she now?” Henry muttered to him.

“Yeah.” William replied.

“I’d beg to differ.” Henry mentioned.

“And why is that?” William asked.

“Because you’re actually a lot more stupid then you let on.” Henry argued.

William looked at Henry. “Rude.” He reacted.

“Not rude when it’s true.” Henry added.

Michael and Elizabeth were giggling while they watched.

“I’m surprised you never learned to keep your opinions to yourself.” William reacted.

“This isn’t an opinion. This is fact.” Henry shot back.

“Fact or opinion, you should be keeping it to yourself.” William told him.

Suddenly, the entire conversation came to a halt when William’s wife walked into the back door. William turned to Henry with a smirk. “Let’s let the woman in the house determine this.” William said proudly.

...William wound up getting himself into big trouble. He was yelled at later for ‘encouraging their children to be child alcoholics’, and wasn’t trusted alone with the kids for a week or so after that.

[A Couple Weeks Later:]

William was trying to fix a knot in the curtain rope while standing on a step ladder.

...Yyyyup! This wasn’t gonna go well.

It took the man another 10 minutes to get himself stuck to the curtain rope upside down. Exactly how did William end up getting himself stuck this way? Not even William knows.

“Henry? A little help?” William asked.

Henry was under the stage, setting up more chairs and tables for the bigger party population that was gonna come in a couple days. “ONE SECOND…” Henry yelled back.

William waited for Henry to come crawling out of there. And thankfully, he did! Henry crawled out from under the stage with a few more chairs and placed them down. “Okay. What’s going on Wi-” Henry wheezed and bursted out laughing at the hilarious sight in front of him:

William was hanging upside down by his foot in front of the curtain. “Uuuuh...Oh boy…” He muttered, feeling slightly awkward about the predicament.

“HOHOHOW DIHID YOU MANAGE THIS?!” Henry asked, just falling into even more laughter.

“I don’t know. I don’t think I even WANNA know. All I know is I want down.” William told him.

Henry nodded. “Okay, okay.” He said, rolling up his sleeves and working on getting him down.

“Hey William, I’m gonna need to remove your shoe to get you out.” Henry let him know.

“Okay.” William replied.

Henry removed William’s shoe and...as much as Henry wanted to help William out, Henry thought he’d be able to take advantage of the situation. So, Henry tightened the curtain’s hold on William, and started tickling his foot. William squealed! “WAIT! Hehehenry! Stahahap!” William giggled.

Henry paused and lifted his hand away for a second. “Why should I?” Henry asked, before resuming his tickling.

“HAhahaha! Nohohoho dohohohon’t! Lehehet mehehe gohohoho!” William giggled, wiggling around as he tried to kick him. But Henry grabbed his other free foot, removed the sock right away, and started tickling that one as well! “HEHEY! EEEEHEhehehehehe! Quihihihihihit thahahahat!” William ordered helplessly.

Henry chuckled deeply. “Not until you admit you’re the dumbass in this friendship.” Henry told him.

William looked up at Henry and blinked...That’s it? “Ihihi’m a duhuhumbahass. Yohohohou knohohow thihihihis ahahalreheady!” William told him through his laughter.

Henry guffawed! “Wow! That was quick!” Henry reacted. “But because that was too quick, I’m not gonna stop quite yet.” Henry decided.

“Whahahahat?! Whyhyhyhyhy?! Whahahat’s soho fuhuhun ahahabohout tihihicklihihing mehehehe?!” William asked him.

Henry stopped tickling the man and knelt down to William’s head. “I don’t know. Maybe it’s the fact that you snort when tickled hard enough? Maybe it’s the fact that your face goes all red anytime you’re receiving physical love? Maybe it’s even the fact that you’re super ticklish and that makes it fun!” Henry told him.

William looked away a little and blushed. Even just getting compliments could turn him into a tomato. “Rude.” William accused.

Henry lifted an eyebrow and smiled. “Cutie.” Henry retorted.

William immediately felt his blush increase. Not wanting this to happen, William pointed at Henry. “Rude.” William shot back.

“Cutie.” Henry just shot back.

William was taken back. He was really gonna start this, huh? Well, 2 can play that game! “Rude!” William told him again, poking his forehead.

Henry smirked and booped his nose. “Cutie.” He replied confidently.

Oh god no...Not the snoot boops too! How dare! “RuUuUuUude!” William whined.

“Cuuuutieeee.” Henry sing-songed.

William decided to finally get him back. “Not. cute.” William argued, poking his sides.

“Hehehey! Don’t be starting to turn this around on me!” Henry reacted, grabbing William’s arms.

William chuckled a little out of playfulness. “Ahand why shouldn’t I?” William asked.

“Because you’re a lot more ticklish than I am. That’s why.” Henry argued back. “And I’m not the one stuck upside down at the moment.” Henry added.

“And I’m not the one tickling the person upside down instead of getting them down.” William argued back.

“I’m not tickling you now, am I?” Henry clarified.

“No, but you’re being rude.” William argued back.

“How rude?” Henry asked.

William leaned in a little and whispered in his face. “All the rude.” He whispered.

“That’s it!” Henry finally let go of William and skittered his fingers on his ribs and sides.

“WahahAHAHAHAHA! HEHEHENRYHYHYHY! NOTTHERIBS! NOT THE RIHIHIHIBS!” William shouted through his laughter. His arms were right against his chest, pushing against Henry’s tickling fingers. They weren’t stopping him from tickling at all. If anything, they were encouraging Henry to tickle him more!

Henry moved his hands to his belly, and started squishing and squeezing. William threw his head back and just CACKLED! Henry was giggling and laughing alongside him. “Man! Your Mom must’ve had a BLAST tickling you!” Henry reacted. “Do your kids know how ticklish you are?” Henry asked him.

“YEHEHEHES! THEHEHEY TIHIHICKLE MEHEHE AHAHALL THEHEHEHE TIHIHIHIHIME!” William replied.

“Well I can see why! Your reactions are priceless!” Henry told him.

“IHIHIHI WAHAHANT DOHOHOHOWN PLEHEHEHEASE!” William asked politely, despite his ticklish conundrum.

Henry nodded his head. “Alright. I’ll let you down, Will.” Henry replied, standing back up.

William took a moment to get some air back into his lungs, and waited patiently for Henry to get him down. As he was undoing the curtain, however, Henry snuck a few tickles under his toes.

And would you believe it?! William snorted! Like, actually snorted!

Henry gasped and threw a fist into the air. “YES! I got a snort!” Henry shouted proudly.

William whined and covered his flustered face as he giggled immediately after. “Ehehehehevihihihil…” William muttered out loud.

Henry looked down at William and narrowed his eyes. “What did you just call me?!” Henry asked, crossing his arms.

William uncovered his eyes and looked up at Henry. “Ehehe...ehevil?” William replied awkwardly.

...It ended up taking a lot longer for William to get down.

#william afton is an idiot #ticklefic #ler!henry #lee!william #william afton gets stuck a lot #1 parent goes to: w afton! #platonic gay relationship

[pa-panda-heroes]

LoV with a Depressive! Reader, like, the Reader is always sad and cries alone, and the LoV is trying to cheer up them. I love your writings, they are beautiful! 💕 (I apologize for my english, it's not my language) thank you 💙

Aw thank you so much!! But sweetheart, please don’t apologize for your English. it is perfect!! 🥰💕

LoV with a depressive!reader!

Tomura:

I think Tomura can be like that too sometimes, honestly! The world has not been very kind to him, and he hurts because of it.

But while he understands how you feel, comforting you isn’t going to be something that is easy for him. It’s hard for him to comfort himself, let alone someone else.

He will often try, though. He knows how awful it is, and he doesn’t want you feeling that way.

Mostly he’ll lend you a shoulder to cry on and let you vent your troubles to him if you like. It’s a good opportunity for him to help you feel better without Tomura saying anything. He really doesn’t know what to say in that situation.

Or if you just want to hold onto him and cry it out, he’s okay with that, too. He’ll offer tissues and water, only because he remembers his mother once told him to drink lots of water after crying to prevent dehydration.

He might push snacks on you if he knows it’ll help, whether you really want to eat or not, because he’s worried that you haven’t eaten.

Really won’t leave you alone. Even if it’s just staying in the same room as you, he’ll want to be near you and make sure you’re okay.

He’ll keep his distance so as to not crowd you, because he knows personal space can be much appreciated in your situation. But he’ll get close if you tell him to.

Mr. Compress

He will do whatever he can to make you laugh or enjoy yourself, be it a trick involving a little bunny, or a trick that annoys Dabi and has him chasing the poor entertainer as a show of comedy.

Mr. will find new tricks if the ones he knows don’t work, looking anywhere and everywhere for something that could cheer you up.

He’ll let you talk it out as much as you need to, but unlike Tomura, he’ll say something. And he’ll know exactly what to say.

Most of the time, it’s words of encouragement. But when he can, he’ll try to help you work out whatever problem(s) is bothering you. He’s full of advice, so if you let him, he loves to share it with you.

He’ll make sure you’re hydrated, but honestly he does that all the time anyway!

Mr. knows crying and feeling/being depressed can be exhausting, so he’s also going to make sure you rest and get on a good sleep schedule.

He will deadass buy you a ridiculously expensive pillow if that means you’ll sleep better. He’ll make sure you eat properly, too. It might feel smothering, but he’s going to look out for you.

He won’t actually smother you. If he feels you need personal space, he’ll give you some space and let you alone for a bit. If he feels you need someone in the moment, he’ll be there.

Twice:

Twice is, in my opinion, super empathetic and sympathetic. He’ll know quickly when you’re upset, and he’ll be upset for you.

No joke. He’ll be crying alongside you and damning whatever made/makes you feel so bad. He’ll take what you’re feeling to heart, and do and say what he can to cheer you up.

He’ll smother you in snacks - or offer cigarrettes - mostly comfort food that you enjoy, tears gushing from his eyes almost comically all the while.

He might not be a great listener, as he has a habit of interjecting with questions or empathetic rants, but he’s a good listener because of that.

It’s because he’ll ask how you felt in the moment if something happened, or what someone made you feel. He’ll get you talking about your feelings and understanding them, whether an episode triggered your depressive feelings or if it’s regular.

Twice will give you a shoulder to cry on whenever you need it, although advice isn’t going to be his strong suit.

If nothing out of the ordinary is bothering you, he’ll try to help you figure it out. Sometimes things bother us and stress us out and we don’t even realize it.

If none of that seems to work, he’ll sit you down and watch movies with you - mostly happy movies, of course. It doesn’t matter if he’s seen it before, or if you’ve seen it before, if there’s a even a slight chance it’ll make you happy, he’ll put it on.

Himiko:

Oddly enough, Himiko is pretty good at comforting people. She has a protectiveness to her.

She’ll mother the living hell out of you, hugging you close and cuddling you while planting kisses to the crown of your head. Himiko will try to utter anything soothing that she can.

She’ll be happy to let you talk, and while she can’t solve your problem(s) or offer advice, she’ll offer affirmations to lift your mood.

She’ll offer to “do away” with anyone that you want her to, but obviously you won’t let her do that! Unless...?

Himiko can be hyperactive at times, so just sitting and listening won’t do for her. She’ll want to drag you on a walk with you while she listens, or in silence if you don’t want to talk. Even if you don’t talk, walking is good for your health, and so is the company.

One of her biggest fears is that you won’t come to her and let her be there for you. She cares about you, after all.

She’ll go on a bloodthirsty, rage-filled rampage if someone makes fun of you for being down. She’s protective like that.

Water water water! Himiko will be sure to give you lots of water, whether you want it or not. She’ll flavor it with something if she has to.

Dabi:

By far the worst at knowing how to comfort someone. Anything he does that is successful is purely him shooting a random shot and hoping for the best. But he’s not actually horrible at it.

He’ll sit you down and wrap an arm around you, which the closest thing to a hug you can get from him usually, and let you cry it out beside him.

He won’t really know what to say if you talk to him about it, but that just means he’s a damn good listener. He’ll nod and hum, maybe muttering, “yeah, that’s shit” or something along those lines every once in a while. But not often.

Dabi will probably offer liquor or any kind of booze before he offers you water, which isn’t the best thing to do. Hey, that’s how he works his shit out - why not?

He’ll want to keep his distance and hope that you want him to, as well. He can’t help you fix it; what’s he gonna do? And the worst part, he feels a bit helpless because he can’t think of anything to say.

Might offer to run a bath for you if one is available and he’s run out of ideas.

If he genuinely cares about you, he’ll let you cuddle up to him if that would make you feel better. Without complaint! Doesn’t matter if you cling onto him like a monkey, he knows when to complain and when not to.

Besides, it’s not like he enjoys seeing you so upset. Even if he teases you or pisses you off enough that steam is coming out of your ears, he doesn’t want you feeling down.

Spinner:

I think Spinner has a big heart, so when he sees you crying and sniffling, he’s going to feel awful.

He might not know immediately what to do or say to help you, if you want him to help, but he’ll ask lots of questions.

Do you want space? Do you need someone? Should I listen, or should I distract you? Should I get anything? - lots of questions.

He’ll often try to distract you with something he knows you care about, or maybe he’ll ramble on and on about a video game he knows you don’t like until you jab him in the ribs for it jokingly.

Sometimes he’ll even offer to take you out somewhere; not as a date necessarily, but it can be. He’ll first ask you where you’d want to go, but if you can’t think of anything, he’s not short on ideas.

He won’t always take you anywhere in particular. As long as he gets you out of your home for a bit to get some fresh air and change of scenery, he’s happy.

He’ll lightheartedly tease you and crack jokes until he can get you smiling again - that’s his favorite way of comforting you.

Any food or drink he offers isn’t going to be for your health. It’s mostly sugary junk food that’s only for comfort. Although he does have sports drinks, which have potassium and electrolytes in them that will help prevent dehydration from crying.

#mha #mha headcanons #mha x reader #shigaraki x reader #mr compress x reader #twice x reader #toga x reader #dabi x reader #spinner x reader #shigaraki tomura #mr compress #twice #toga himiko #dabi #spinner #comfort / fluff #h/c