#{ sure it's not big major shit but it's small and sometimes the small things add up }
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{ ooc } So, I want to dip into some talk about last night's episode. 'Cause wow, it had some really good character development for Rick. And I just need to share it.
I'm gonna start off with the obvious one. Rick finally going to therapy and realizing that it works. He really set aside his previous thoughts about it and ended up going. Despite everything he's said, his own pride. And sure, he might've decided he would go just to ask one question -- just one so that he could get a quick answer. Though, that answer brought him back for more.
Then he began to schedule weekly appointments. It's because he realized that it was that easy. To step out of his pre-concieved notions of "Therapy won't work on someone like me" or "It's good for other people, but it's not something I want for myself"
It goes to show that Rick isn't a static character. Unlike what the meta episode before that stated. Where "Rick can't change and won't change." Because he can. He might be above a human and more-so on a god-like level with his intelligence and abilities, but he can change. He can grow. And he's showing that. Little by little.
And it's the fact that after all that was said and done, Rick chose to continue following Dr. Wong's advice. Not only by not reacting when unnecessary, but also talking out his feelings that bother him. And he chose to tell Morty what was on his mind -- which keeps in theme on what he promised to do back in the Season 5 finale; showing that he was letting him in and being more open and honest. Even if it backfired on him.
It's steady, but good growth. Rick is learning to not bottle up his feelings. He's learning that not everything has to be a fight. He can relax and take it with ease. Even if it means losing the chaos that he clung onto. That same chaos that he thought gave him purpose that also, as he thought, simultaneously made him feel worse.
The addiction to the pain is slowly leaving him and it's the right direction if he ever wants to heal.
#{ headcanon ; 🧪 }#suicide mention tw#{ i didn't mention it but tagging it just in case due to the events in the episode }#{ my thoughts aren't coherent but when have they ever been ? }#{ sorry if my ramblings bounced a lot }#{ i hope it conveys what i mean xD }#{ but damn this whole season has been so good so far and }#{ sure it's not big major shit but it's small and sometimes the small things add up }#wubba lubba dub dub. ᴏᴏᴄ ᴘᴏꜱᴛꜱ
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bts fic recommendations | 01.31.23
→ hi friends! this is a little segment i do every tuesday (reviewsday get it, aren’t i funny, pls tell me how funny i am) where i read and review two-three fics. as a content creator, i know how big of a role other creators play in your growth, therefore, i want to do my part in making sure everyone gets the recognition they deserve! so with that being said, please check out the amazing fics listed below. make sure to like, reblog, and leave feedback! ♡ #reviewsday #kikirecs
busted (pt 1 + pt 2) - @btsgotjams27 (jjk x reader | married au, parents au, smut)
summary: your husband comes home with a new gift and you’re not happy with it.
oh.... this is wholesome
im usually partial to girl dad koo but i've been looking at his bby pictures lately and he was so cute ugh :'( picturing two lil kooks is killing me (also i see where u got the inspo teehee v cute jess)
also he's such a lil shit pls like he knows what he's doing being such a slut and avoiding the conversation !!! we love him for it !!!
this is my fav style of writing by the way. like when the reader is just dropped into a slice of the character's lives and you figure them out based on the context clues. like the fact that kook's mom died is such a small detail here but it adds so much to the world. you did so well with seamlessly dropping tidbits and making it natural, not an easy thing to do!!! but you did it so so so well in this!!
him licking his fingers clean after wearing her pussy like a ring had me
dad jk putting it the fuck downnnnnn on that bathroom counter SHEESH IM SWEATING!!! also the baby interrupting right before the nut is peak wholesome content lmao!! and the way you incorporated the title TWICE PLS A GENIUS AND THIS WAS SO INCREDIBLY HOT and i would love to see more of this lil family :') <3
i want to be with you - @oddinary4bts (pjm x reader | idol au, s2l, f2l, fluff, slight angst, smut)
summary: moving to seoul has always seemed like a good idea, until the bubble bursts when you realize your new neighbor is park jimin, and he's not the sweet angel you've always imagined him to be. will the reality of park jimin forever be a nightmare, or will he turn into a sweet dream?
first of all this is just what i needed um what is fanfic if not a vehicle to live out your daydreams anywho... something about moving to a big city and finding love is so fairytale-ish and magical and uGh. the more of these i do the more im starting to think we're all the same bc I RELATE SOME MUCH TO OC GTFO!! and that introduction made me so attached to her because there almost this childlike nature about her?? maybe childlike is the wrong wording but she has so much excitement and ambition, looks to the future with so much hope despite everything that she's been through. yeah. love her dearly will protect at all costs. and the way you contrasted this intro with the intro to the present day to show how now its not a daydream anymore n shes actually dealing w the reality of starting n moving somewhere new *chefs kiss*
"Sometimes, you wondered if faith existed. If there was a bigger plan to the universe, something written for you already that you couldn’t really escape from. It was the thought that crossed your mind as the doors finished moving, and a dark-haired boy – man – stared at you as you just stood there, mouth falling open."
god if theres one thing my communications major literature minor loves its this !!!! foreshadowing !!! like idk this paragraph just tickled my brain in the right way. it really is so beautiful. one of those that you look back on on a second read and smile because it means so much more and aged even better. truly stellar writing.
ALSO BRO THIS OC IS LEGIT MEEEE LIKE HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO LIVE OUT MY CLUELESS Y/N WHO HAS NO IDEA WHO BTS IS AND IS MYSTERIOUS AND NON-INTERESTED WHEN I HAVE A WHOLE TATTOO DEDICATED TO PARK JIMIN LMAO THE CHIMMY KEYCHAIN TOOK ME OUT BYE!!
"You expected his features to have that same disgusted scowl he always reserved for you, but his brows fell, as if he was ashamed, or perhaps sad."
"It was so human you found you had to look away."
and then just the pull towards eachother like this connection was legit fated was so fucking good. them taking care of eachother when they're drunk. hangover fucking soup :'). and then after everything with collin and jimin's spiraling they really needed eachother. like the stars aligned to set this pair up and its so comforting to read. BUT LIKE THE SLOWBURN MADE IT FEEL SO SO EARNED. AND THE WAY YOU ENDED IT WITH THE TITLE I COULD FUCKING SCREAM!!! so so so good. thank you for taking the time to write and share this masterpiece on the platform, you've made it sm better with this beautiful addition :') friends do not walk, RUN to read this.
#reviewsday#kikirecs#bts#bts smut#bts x reader#bts jungkook#bts jimin#jeon jungkook#park jimin#jungkook smut#jimin smut#jungkook x reader#jimin x reader#bts fanfic#bts fic#jungkook fic#jimin fic#jungkook fanfic#jimin fanfic#bts fic recs
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I just don't get how people really think NATLA was good. Like...were there elements that were done well? Sure. I'm so so glad that they mostly kept the bright color pallette (but I wish they had been more...intentional about how the color washed things??? Sometimes if made sense other times it felt.....cheesy? Or just...clumsy I guess). I really like majority of the cast.
But....the plot and pacing is a mess. I get it, they condensed Book 1 into 8 episodes but....Book 1 and 2 had the same amount of episodes and Book 3 was even longer. Maybe Book 1 had more filler but that should have made it EASIER to condense it. The condensing made the show extremely confusing. It muddied the waters of a lot of the flow and pace of the show. A lot of people complain about Book 1 feeling slow and that's because it's kind of true to what is happening in the world. The whole world is locked into this....stalemate with the Fire Nation continuing its aggression and holding the weaker lands and areas while the strongholds are pretty comfortable in their holdouts. The world is on the precipice of...chaos but it isn't quite there yet. Aang's return and all the whispers of the Avatar is what awakens the people to fight back. Its this slow awakening of a world that seemed...compliant and comfortable in its own terror and violence so long as it didn't get any worse. And we don't get that at all in the live-action series.
1) I don't think condensing was a good idea. And I don't think they even did a good job of condensing the series. The battle with Koh should have been the s1 ending, it could have been the moment when Aang realizes that...idk maybe Koh has set Zhao on this path to disrupt the balance of the world to the point of total destruction and even tho Aang "defeats" Koh it doesn't matter because Zhao is already on that set path and Koh tells Aang that he isn't ready to save the world yet because he wasted a hundred years and still isn't a fully realized Avatar. While Koh spent 100 years preparing for this (maybe something in there about how he thinks the Firebenders, Sozin's line especially, are so myopic. Their destruction too human and petty. Their small mindedness is their own downfall but his destruction is happening on a cosmic level, one that will rattle the many realms). I think this opens up a whole different storyline and character motivation for the next half of the adaptation of s1.
2) are we all just gonna ignore that the reason why the first season had to be condensed is because Netflix doesn't actually care that much about making something good but making something that will get them money??? It is a mixed up and jumbled, tangled mess but they knew a lot of ppl would eat it up because a. "At least its not the movie!!!" or b. "Well they had to fit a lot in just 8 episodes!"
No they didnt. They could have made the decision to split the season in half. They could have made the decision to add more episodes. But Netflix is just in it for the money and they are cutting corners to make their execs as much as possible while screwing you, their cast, and staff over.
The other big flaw I saw was dialogue. The dialogue is so bad in this show. Like...all the really deep moments in the show sounded good because they had a great score and there was a lot of space for those moments to breathe but its like...every couple of minutes characters will just espouse nuggets of "wisdom" that pushes characters to act in a certain way to spur on the plot. The original show's dialogue which did have these moments of deep and thoughtful ideas and very emotional beats was interspersed with like....regular human bullshit talk. Iroh did have moments of great depth but it was balanced out by him saying just...fake deep shit sometimes too. Aang, Katara, and Sokka never get to just....talk like kids because they are too busy espousing messages of "be strong" and "this is going to make you stronger" "I have to get stronger!" "Its my responsibility to be strong!"
It's bad writing. Bad dialogue and it doesn't help that the cast seems to have been directed to deliver their lines in the most stilted and blad way possible (its the youtube scary vid voice, you know the one) and its such a waste of good talent. The only one who really gets it is Zhao (don't think I didn't clock that actor as the one from Rush Hour that I had a huge crush on. It was the villain-sexual awakening of my childhood lol. Good for you baby).
Also the fucking wigs are WILD. Wtf. Why. Idk if its wigs or hair pieces or if they just managed to put so much product in that it looks fake but wtf.
Also the costuming....some of it is a big miss. I wish they had just done a little more...well-fitting?? Idk. A lot of the cast looks like....they feel awkward or bulky in their costumes?? Its giving Party City babes.
Idk. I think a lot of yall are deluding yourselves or you've become comfortable with accepting shitty product from greedy companies. Idk.
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hey emanthony I love your hxh fics some much I have a random question that you can totally ignore if you dont feel like answering 😄 I've noticed that killua is usually away in your fics like in your last fic he was on a boarding school and in your other fics he is just mentioned but doesnt have a major role except for the sharpest knife though he was still more like plot device there imo, do you try to avoid writing him because he is arguably the most popular hxh character and you prefer not to deal with the unnecessary fandom drama that writing a fic about him might cause? Which is totally fine if thats the reason, your fics are still amazing with killua involve but I was just curious.
I have MANY thoughts and I'm preemptively sorry for the wall of text that's about to happen. ily, though, here's the TLDR: it's honestly mostly logistical issues that have caused me to avoid inserting Killua into stories.
tbh if I didn't want fandom drama I wouldn't have written that opening for The Youngest Child. That shit was risky af. I still marvel that I haven't gotten e-flayed over it and sometimes I consider removing the story entirely because I have anxieties. (Obviously Chrollo and Kalluto's tryst at the beginning is not meant to be some hot aspirational kink-thing [you do you if you're into that]--the intention has always been to show how far Chrollo had fallen, socially, and how Kalluto has been placed in a dangerous position his entire life without parental figures to care for his well-being [enter: Gon, our knight in sun-shining armor.]) But we're not here to talk about that, so I'll stop lmao.
I've gotten a few questions about Killua throughout the years, ranging from people wondering if I hate him (I love him; I have him as a tattoo) or if I'm just not confident writing him (I'm not confident writing anything, ever), and really it's mostly just logistical. I actually would love to do a Killua-centric story one day, but I haven't had time (though I'm constantly trying to figure out how to write more and faster so I can write more fic. I legit have a pretty fleshed out story in my mind featuring Killua Zoldyck x Shouto Todoroki, which sounds WILD, and it is wild, but I also think I could make it work).
When I say logistical, it's like... We can use The Youngest Child as an example. Obviously Killua being absent is one of the main plot points, but if we pretend instead that his parents decided Kalluto was a better heir, the story doesn't change much... Except that I now have another big personality to contend with. Killua is, without exception, a main character. If he's there, he's going to be there, you know? He'd have to have a whole subplot of his own (which I'll touch on more in a second). The Youngest Child would likely be double in length. Maybe even triple, because I'd have to explain him and Gon's relationship from the onset, too. That would take my idea for a novella-length story and turn it into a full on novel. Which is fine, but as previously mentioned... Time. I can either knock out a story with Kalluto, Gon, the Troupe, Illumi, Hisoka, and the Zoldycks (that's already a wild list to write concisely) in ~20k words, or I can add Killua and watch it bloat up to like, 50k at the least.
There's also an element to writing Killua that I'm not sure a lot of people realize is actually a lengthy subject to cover, and that's his responsibility to his family. Even as a side character, there's so much to address. His story ends (both in the manga and in the anime) with him rescuing his sister, running away, and presumably keeping her safe from Zoldyck influence. But what about the other kids? Maybe we can write off Illumi; he's fully grown, and abused Killua deeply enough that Killua could dismiss him as a victim of their upbringing. But what about Milluki, who's openly derided and dismissed by their parents? What about Kalluto, a small costumed doll handed over to a genocidal gang? Is Kalluto not worthy of saving? We know Kalluto loves Killua; we never see Killua think of Kalluto at all. Does that mean Killua doesn't love his other brothers? Does that mean he doesn't think they suffer? Obviously Alluka needed rescued, that's not in question. But any canon-compliant fic that includes Killua has to answer this question (and many of them do not, and I don't blame them): does he care about his family at all?
(The answer, imho, is yes, but Killua is so afraid of his past and his parents and his role as heir that it paralyzes him similar to the ways we saw him paralyzed trying to fight for Gon in the Chimera Arc.)
That's why it's hard to include him in fics. That's honestly probably why Togashi hasn't included him in the manga in 11 years. There're so many loose ends. It's a nightmare to tie up neatly so that other characters and their stories can shine. I mentioned it before, but he's got some of the biggest main character energy of any fictional character ever made (this is a compliment). His capacity for love, violence, humor, poise, intelligence... He's really remarkable. He's going to outshine anyone if he gets involved. Illumi's whole arc in The Longest Job was learning some of the things that Killua's been capable of his whole life. If Killua was there, Illumi probably would have seen even more pathetic than he already was. Which maybe isn't a bad thing, lol.
Anyway. I should write a Killua fic one day. Lemme just finish...uh...man, idek. I have like 6 WIPs at the moment. I'm gonna go lay down.
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Thinking about how many choices we can make so far in TNP that can lead to variations that you have to keep track of sounds incredibly daunting.
How do you keep track of something when you realise it's going to become a variable? Do you have a document where you keep track of everything? Is it something you highlight in the code (idk how coding works, this is me being small brain).
Or do you write it down on a sticky note and add it to a massive board of sticky notes that you re-arrange to look like certain tnp characters? (this is big brain me).
i do, i have a spreadsheet for all of my variables! i have one for the prologue & chapter 1 and then a second one for chapter 2. i plan to keep making separate sheets for each chapter, it's just easier that way for me to search through and find what i'm looking for rather than scrolling through one massive one.
i also have various "note" files, like i have a "combat notes" where i wrote a bunch of random shit down while i was working on the fight scene, which included ideas for all the combat specialties as well as noting down certain dialogue/key moments i wanted to make sure i included throughout the fight regardless of what choices you made. i also wrote ideas i wanted to carry over for the fight scene i'll eventually have to write for the highfell route, too. then i have a similar "blackwater notes" file that again i use to note down anything significant that i need to make sure gets addressed in this route before the end of the chapter, or jot down certain dialogue/choices i want to remember so i can track them and recall them later.
then i have a "tnp edits" file where i'm writing down everything i plan to eventually go back in and edit later. this is mainly stuff in the prologue & ch1 at the moment, since my writing has evolved so much since i started, there's a lot i want to fix up in those first 2 chapters but i'm not worrying about it until i get through the majority of this first draft.
i'm honestly not very good at noting things down, though. i definitely suffer from "i'll remember this" hubris.... i have a private discord server for my writing and sometimes i'll send out of context messages to myself that i look back at later and i have no idea what i'm talking about. there's a lot of incoherent ramblings in my notes....
#when i used choicescript i did use the code mainly to note down everything#because i frontloaded all my variables in the startup file#but trying to do that in twine made a giant mess so i don't use the code like that anymore#and it's honestly getting too complex at this point i need to actually write stuff down lmfao#ask#anonymousa
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eggnemies to lovers
nami/vivi, zoro/sanji | 7k words
(best viewed on: ao3)
My (20F) Date (21M) keeps getting into fights with a cook at Baratie.
submitted 6 months ago by u/throwawaypinwheel
(Or, the one where Sanji is a diner cook, Vivi is their waitress, and Zoro and Nami accidentally became each other’s wingman.)
Zoro glares at his plate as if his omelette has just challenged him to a duel. Nami tries her best to focus on the map she’s working on—this one’s a particularly difficult homework from her Intro to Coastal Navigation class—and pointedly does not look up.
“Holy shit,” Zoro mutters under his breath, poking at the offending egg, “Nami, I swear—”
“We are not having this conversation again—”
“I told you,” Zoro plows on, “that fucking cook is doing this on purpose.”
Nami takes a deep breath. Cartography is a delicate art, and Nami aims to be a professional. She takes her favorite pencil and elegantly traces over the coastline of Cocoyashi Village, poised and collected and calm. She’s not going to take the bait and ruin her map, no matter how much Zoro is sulking over an egg—
She sighs. “Zoro, I’m pretty sure there’s just been some mix-up with the orders.”
Zoro huffs at that, clearly disbelieving. “For the third time this week?”
“This isn’t exactly a five-star establishment,” she points out, and adds, reasonably, calmly, in an attempt to find some semblance of peace, “I doubt the cook of some no-name diner even knows your name.”
The words seem to have brought about the opposite effect, because now there’s a dangerous glint in Zoro’s eyes as he mutters, “well, he’s about to find out,” before standing up and shamelessly yelling, “ OI! COOK! ”
Nami drives the pencil through her map.
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r/relationship_advice
My (20F) Date (21M) keeps getting into fights with a cook at Baratie.
submitted 6 months ago by u/throwawaypinwheel
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My (20F) Date (21M) keeps getting into fights with a cook at Baratie.
submitted 6 months ago by /u/throwawaypinwheel
I know this sounds really weird, but here it is:
This guy and I have been on a couple of dates. We’d been friends long before we started trying this going out thing, so he isn’t a total stranger to me, and I’ve long known him as a pretty calm guy. Chimes in once a week in the group chat, grunts a lot during conversations, you know — one of those quiet, meditating types. He’s only competitive when it comes to his favorite sport (he’s a professional kendo athlete), but other than that he tends not to care about what other people think about him. I’ve never seen him respond to anyone’s taunts or getting worked up by a stranger’s words.
Except at Baratie.
Any time we’re out he wants to go to this diner called Baratie down in Grand Line. I don’t really care about the food, but the tables there are big enough for me to do work (Maritime Science major here—lots of stationeries and large maps to work with). But that became impossible once he and this one cook started chirping at each other every time we went there. Date complained about his eggs one time, because he likes them a little runny and they were served hard. The cook responded by giving him scrambled eggs. When he brought it up again, the cook served him two hardboiled eggs. It was kind of funny to be honest, but my date wasn’t able to laugh it off. When we left, he was in a bad mood.
This is the crazy part: he keeps going back.
In fact, he keeps going back and ordering eggs and getting into fistfights with the same cook. It’s almost a ritual at this point. He orders runny eggs, the cook serves him some other version of eggs, and then they beat the shit out of each other. We never eat out at any other places now; it’s just Baratie every fucking week. Sometimes he even goes there without me.
I’ve tried to talk to him about it a few times, but he keeps saying it’s a matter of principle. I’ve told him to just talk to the manager, but he just waved me off. Apparently that cook hasn’t yet made him the correct runny eggs, but it’s like he spends the week learning new ways of preparing eggs to piss my date off.
My question is — this is weird, right? Like, I’m not really concerned about the fighting part — he’s never been physical with me and I never once felt threatened by him — but what’s with the obsession ? They’re just eggs, aren’t they?
Is this indicative of something deeper? Should I reconsider going exclusive with this guy?
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When Nami looks up from her map this time, Zoro has already stalked off to the kitchen. This isn’t new or remarkable in any way, except the fact that he almost ran into one of the waitresses, who immediately clutched her tray against her chest and watched his retreating back warily.
Zoro didn’t even spare her a glance. What a brute. Nami’s going to add to his debt later for that.
“Hey,” Nami calls out towards the waitress, waving at her to come by her table, “I’m sorry, uh…”
“Vivi,” the waitress fills in with a polite smile.
“Right, Vivi—I’m Nami,” Nami replies, finding herself nervous all of a sudden, because up close like this, holy fuck is the waitress so pretty, with long blue hair and silver-sharp eyes. Nami clears her throat. “Uh, I just want to say sorry about his—his whole deal with your Cook. Zoro—that’s his name—he’s usually really chill, so I don’t know what’s happening here.”
Vivi thankfully chuckles at that, seemingly finding the situation more hilarious than threatening. Good. There’s also something about that laughter that makes Nami feel like she’s fourteen again, full of butterflies and all too small for everything, but she tries not to think too hard about that yet.
“In your friend’s defense,” Vivi says, “Sanji is usually really good with memorizing orders, so he’s totally messing with your friend on purpose.”
As if on cue, the cook’s voice—Sanji’s—rings out from the kitchen. “YOU’RE NOT SUPPOSED TO BE HERE, MOSSHEAD, I TOLD YOU THE KITCHEN’S OFF LIMITS FOR CUSTOMERS —”
Nami finds herself laughing with Vivi. “You know, it’s actually impressive that Zoro doesn’t get lost on his way to the kitchen anymore.”
Vivi raises her eyebrow. “Nami, the kitchen door is right there.”
“It’s Zoro,” Nami presses, because it’s always fun to see strangers learn about Zoro’s disastrous relationship with directions and maps for the first time. “One time, during our junior high sports festival, he got lost on the running track. For a hundred-meter race .”
That earns her another laugh from Vivi as she takes a seat beside Nami, body leaning forward in curiosity, “really? Is he short-sighted or something? Can’t he just—I don’t know, literally see the finish line?”
“Here’s the thing you need to know about Zoro,” Nami begins, and watching the way Vivi’s soft hair falls over the slope of her shoulder, bright blue and blinding despite the dim lighting of the diner, Nami somehow can’t find it in herself to be mad at Zoro anymore.
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u/salveshine • 492 points 6 months ago
This seems like an obvious question, but I have to ask: have you considered going somewhere else for your dates? Most people don’t go to a diner for dates in the first place.
/u/throwawaypinwheel • 23 points 6 months ago
Well, as I said on the original post, it’s downright an obsession at this point. Asking him to go somewhere else doesn’t solve the problem since he’d just go there on his own on a different day.
Also, the waitress there is nice. She’s been keeping me company throughout this whole thing. She’s a godsend.
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Vivi appears by her table as soon as Zoro disappears into the kitchen.
“Again?” Vivi asks by way of greeting.
“Again,” Nami agrees, scooting to the side of her bench to give Vivi space to sit. “It’s eggs benedict this time. Perfectly poached. I went to this fancy restaurant a few weeks ago, and they didn’t even make it this good.”
Somewhere from what presumably is the kitchen, Zoro’s frustrated voice echoes throughout the whole diner. “Now you’re not even serving me eggs anymore!”
“What are you—“ there is a moment of stunned silence before Sanji‘s reply comes, equally loud, dripped with utter disbelief. “Are you fucking serious? You thought this wasn’t made of—you’ve never seen scotch eggs before?”
“SHUT UP,” Zoro yells back.
Nami cranes her neck out of instinct, wishing to catch a glimpse of the scene from the window behind the counter—she’s never heard Zoro sounding so flustered before—but Vivi’s voice, small and low and far from the confident tone Nami has started to get used to, pulls her attention back.
“I’m sorry.”
It takes another moment before the words fully register in her brain. “Wh—for what?”
“I mean,” Vivi says, twiddling with her fingers as she mumbles, “this is supposed to be your date.”
“My date?” The question already falls out of her mouth before she realizes, oh. Oh. This is supposed to be a date, because her and Zoro are…well. Sometimes she doesn’t even remember that part—they’re certainly not acting the part, considering they’re hanging out with other people during these ‘dates’. Nami understands, rationally, that she should be mad about this; and yet— “It’s fine. I’m not that bothered.”
Vivi blinks. “You’re not?”
“Nah,” Nami says, waving her hand dismissively, feeling as surprised as Vivi looks. “Well, when it comes down to it, it’s still free food, you know? Could’ve been better—no offense, but a family diner isn’t exactly date material—but considering the menu and ingredients you guys have to work with? Sanji’s practically been making feasts fit for royalty here.”
“Well, I still think you deserve to be treated better during a date,” Vivi crosses her arms and—is that a pout on her face? “Don’t you feel a bit lonely?”
“No?” Nami replies, taken aback. That’s literally the furthest thing on her mind, because— “I have you, don’t I?”
Nami feels her face heat up as soon as the words left her mouth, because that sounded way more presumptuous than she intended. She meant to say, I have you to keep me company , like a friend , in a totally friend platonic way. Except they were talking about dates in a decidedly very romantic way and she should totally take it back—
Vivi beams at that, the kind that makes her look like she’s glowing inside her skin, and never mind, Nami’s not taking it back. Nope. She’s never taking it back even if someone’s paying her a million berries to take it back.
Vivi takes Nami’s hand from the table and holds it in both of her own, and Nami’s heart trips in her chest.
“Yeah,” Vivi says, the words sending a low hum under Nami’s ribcage. “Yeah, you have me.”
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/u/mettlemental • 301 points 5 months ago
This is their ritual. Do not interfere.
/u/throwawaypinwheel • 279 points 5 months ago
You know what, I think you have a point. This thing between me and the waitress is also a ritual now, so we’re even.
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“Shishishi!” Luffy laughs, eyes practically sparkling. “Sanji is so cool!”
“No he’s not!” Zoro pinches Luffy by the cheek to try to drag him away from Sanji. “I brought you here to defend me!”
“But Sanji’s the one making me delicious meat right now,” Luffy pouts, seemingly unperturbed by the potential disfigurement of his own face, gaze still rooted on Sanji—or, more specifically, the food Sanji is carrying on a tray. “What can you make, Zoro?”
Sanji lights up his cigarette, expression hidden behind his hands, but his whole body visibly puffs up like a peacock. Nami notices how the tips of his ears have turned red. “Finally, someone with taste.”
Zoro tries to grab the tray away from Sanji’s hand, and Nami watches Vivi masterfully maneuver between the messy cacophony of the trio, placing a tall stack of waffles in front of Chopper.
“This doesn’t make me happy at all!” Chopper says, his words nowhere near convincing, considering he’s saying it with the largest grin Nami has ever seen on a fourteen-year-old. “Did Sanji make this one, too?”
“He did,” Vivi says as she takes a seat beside Nami, as she always does. The table settles into a comfortable silence as Chopper digs into his waffles and Vivi absentmindedly plays with the salt shaker, observing the idiot trio from a distance.
“They sure get along fast,” Nami says as she takes out her cartography tools, and Vivi’s gaze sweeps between Luffy, Chopper, and the maps on the table.
“You’re not even trying to have a date anymore, aren’t you,” she points out.
“Nope,” Nami agrees, gesturing to Chopper with her pencil. “Chopper here wanted to try the waffle for a long time ever since I told him all about Sanji.”
“Please tell Sanji I love it!” Chopper adds around a mouthful of sugar.
“And Luffy’s been really curious about you two anyways.”
One table away, Luffy took the last bite of whatever meal Sanji just served, and dramatically announces, “this one’s better than the last one!”
“You always say that after every plate,” Sanji mumbles, but shoves another plate towards the kid anyways, clearly preening from the praises.
“It wasn’t even that good,” Zoro adds desperately, and scowls when Sanji chooses to watch Luffy eat another serving with the same gusto like he did the first one. “Oi—don’t ignore me, Shit Cook!”
It’s...fascinating. Nami never had a habit of watching Zoro—those activities are reserved for those fangirls in their university who barely know him—but she finds herself unable to look away whenever they’re at the Baratie. Whenever he’s with Sanji, to be precise. The chef seems to have brought out so many different sides of Zoro she’s never seen before in all the years she’s known him, and that’s saying a lot, considering she’s known Zoro for a decade.
Zoro has always been a steady presence in her and Luffy’s life ever since he moved into their neighborhood when she was shy of turning ten; he is strong-willed and loyal and eternally dependable, like a safe place they can always come back to. He can be a little hard to read, quiet and reserved as he is, but these days Nami knows where to look, the telltales hidden in the way he straightens his back and carries himself.
But with Sanji, Zoro is—he’s all those things still, sure. But he’s also— so much more. There’s suddenly this— kid, lively and boyish and so, so easy to read. Open book, heart on his sleeve. He grins and yells and throws his punches, and Sanji would take them in stride and return them as easily. This Zoro pouts when Sanji doesn’t pay him attention, and scowls when he does; and when Sanji makes him laugh, it’s a loud, open thing.
Sometimes it feels as if the Zoro she knew was an impostor all along. As if there was a pale imitation of Roronoa Zoro with a ghost of a smile, and he’d only come alive in the middle of a fucking diner.
And the worst part of it all is—
“You two?” Vivi suddenly mumbles, seemingly to herself.
Nami tilts her head. “Yeah?”
“You were saying something about Luffy being curious about… us two ,” Vivi says. There’s an odd, pensive look on her face. “Are you talking about Sanji and…”
“You, of course!” Nami cuts in, perplexed.
“You told your friends about me?” Vivi wonders, and it’s baffling. Of course Nami told her friends about Vivi. Sometimes Nami thinks Vivi is all she could talk about. She’s hilarious and smart and a thousand times more interesting to talk about than Sanji and Zoro combined.
That’s a really weird thing to suddenly spring on someone though, so Nami instead says, “Vivi, you’re the best thing about these weekly visits, because that sure as hell isn’t.”
She’s pointing at the dumbass trio; somewhere along the way, Luffy has seemed to fall asleep, and Sanji is smiling at the boy’s sleeping form, looking very pleased with himself. Zoro is fuming behind him, arms crossed and chest puffed, like a child being forced to share his favorite toy.
Vivi laughs at the sight, shaking her head. “Well, boys will be boys.”
The words bury itself uncomfortably in the pit of Nami’s stomach.
Boys will be boys—which is why sometimes (oftentimes, many times, always) Nami thinks she’s much more easily enamored with girls. Nami supposes there is a certain charm in Zoro’s brutish ways, but she’s beginning to learn that it may not be for her—Nami appreciates people who can hold their own in a fistfight, but there is also strength in reigning yourself in despite the circumstances, the way she’s seen Vivi handle difficult customers with a firm tone, graceful and dangerous at the same time.
(What could this mean, then? For her, for them—)
Zoro and Sanji have started fighting animatedly again. Roronoa Zoro, his heart on his sleeve.
And the worst part is that Nami doesn’t even care.
+
/u/sorcatarius • 334 points 4 months ago
I usually appreciate it when OP updates their posts with recent developments because I’m one of those people who get easily invested in a stranger’s life story, but is it just me or do all of these updates seem irrelevant? Most of them are about the waitress. I feel like I’m learning nothing about the actual date here. Who’s dating who again?
/u/NeonRain15• 137 points 4 months ago
OP is clearly a troll lol.
+
They are sitting at a corner table in front of the door to the kitchen, because Franky and Robin aren’t even pretending they’re here for the food instead of a show. Usopp told them he would rather ‘see where the danger is coming from ’, but Nami suspects the real reason is something closer to morbid curiosity.
Nami doesn’t fault them. It certainly is hard to look away from what those two clowns are currently doing: Zoro is waving a spatula and a frying pan like he would his kendo swords, clearly breaking several kitchen-related OSHA rules in the process; Sanji puts out his cigarette against the counter—seriously, has nobody here heard of proper kitchen etiquette—and swings his leg in a drop kick.
There’s a loud CLANK as his shoe comes into contact with the pan.
Franky whistles. “That’s super awesome, bro!” He cheers, before turning back to the table with a lower voice, “Seriously, how have they not fired Sanji-bro already?”
“Other than the fact that he’s overqualified as hell?” Usopp asks in between spoonfuls of Sanji’s fried rice.
“Well, they do provide a wonderful source of entertainment for us customers,” Robin observes.
“Sure thing,” Franky replies, “but they’re totally destroying kitchen appliances right now, I mean, look at that roller. There’s no way any normal wood could withstand that —there it goes.”
“Let them be—what’s the worst that could happen?” Robin muses. “Other than a kitchen accident that leads to a gas explosion and the restaurant burning down to the ground, obliterating all of us in the process, of course.”
“Robin,” Usopp squeaks.
Inside the kitchen, the tables have turned—Sanji has somehow regained possession of his kitchen appliances, and he’s now teaching Zoro how to cook. They’re standing shoulder-to-shoulder, heads bent over the stove, and Sanji would occasionally wrap his hand around Zoro’s wrist to instruct him.
Zoro looks like he’s going to spontaneously combust. His eyes are darting between Sanji’s hands (still lightly gripping Zoro’s wrist), Sanji’s face (dangerously close to Zoro’s own), and Sanji’s lips (there’s something there, something he wants to do and Nami knows if she thinks hard enough she can put a name on it) —anywhere but the food they’re actually cooking. Zoro’s own face is now redder than the tomatoes lining up the kitchen counter.
Heart on his sleeve, Nami thinks. Open book, open book.
“I’m going to get some refills,” she announces, suddenly feeling like she’s intruding on something private and practically leaps towards the soda station. She could feel a pair of curious eyes on her back—Robin’s, no doubt—but she’s more distracted by another presence currently standing beside her.
“Hey,” Vivi says, voice light, teasing. She’s carrying a lot of cups on her, presumably the others’, and she bumps her shoulder against Nami’s playfully. Nami could feel the touch fizzle against her skin.
“Hey,” Nami replies, trying to pretend that the close proximity doesn’t bother her at all. “‘Sup?”
Vivi wordlessly helps her with the drinks, and they easily fall into comfortable silence, filling cups after cups, until Vivi nudges her again. “You know, Usopp was right about Sanji being overqualified.”
Nami fills Franky’s cup slower, wondering where the conversation is going. “Yeah?”
“Yeah. You know, I have a secret,” Vivi says, tone playful, but when Nami looks up there’s something in her eyes. “Actually, I own this place.”
Nami stops filling the cup. “What?”
“I mean, it’s mostly on loan, and I’m not halfway done with the payments, but technically, yeah,” Vivi says, tucking her hair to the back of her ear in a nervous gesture. “I didn’t really want to tell anyone because it’s not like I wanted a special treatment from the patrons. And I am effectively a waitress here.”
Nami is suddenly reminded of all the instances when she called Baratie a no-name diner right to Vivi’s face, and feels her stomach sink. Holy shit, she called it a dumpster fire just last week.
Vivi must have noticed Nami’s mental breakdown, because she quickly waves her hand and laughs. “No, no, don’t worry about it—I know we’re still a work in progress. Especially ever since—”
Vivi trails off at that, suddenly looking unsure. She starts collecting all the cups, like she’s giving Nami a reason to back out of the conversation. “It’s kind of a boring life story, actually, I’m sorry for dumping that all to you out of the blue—”
“Vivi,” Nami says, placing a calming hand on her shoulder. She doesn’t usually do this; she knows, better than most, how heavy one’s past could be, and she hates it when people try to pry into hers. But Vivi is looking at her with sad eyes and unsteady hands, and suddenly Nami wants nothing other than to tell her, “I’ll drop this if you don’t want to talk about it, but remember this: I will always want to know more about you.”
She places her hand on Vivi's arm, for emphasis. “I will always want to support you.”
It takes a moment before her words sink in, and Nami could see the moment it does, Vivi’s eyes widening in surprise as her face breaks into a slow-starting smile. “Thank you, Nami,” she whispers, and it’s almost reverent.
Nami’s gaze falls onto Vivi’s lips, and suddenly it’s become very difficult to maintain a conversation.
She wonders how she’d look now, to an outsider. Flushed face and a stupid smile on her face, hands fidgeting with her own hair. Open book, open book . Could they hear, she wonders, the way her heart is hammering against her ribcage—would they find out—
Robin claps her hands together, snapping Nami out of her reverie. The whole group is already standing by the door, waiting for her, and god, how long have they been talking by the soda station again?
“Perhaps we can take the drinks another day. Time to go home, don’t you think?” Robin suggests. Her tone is light, but her gaze is heavy, and Nami has to resist the urge to curl into herself.
Zoro still stares at the kitchen, oblivious to the tension. “Yeah,” he says, almost in a daze. “ Shit — yeah.”
Shit, indeed.
+
/u/Lanzifer• 975 points 5 months ago
This is a love story.
/u/nashdezus • 307 points 3 months ago
I hate to break it to you but I think your boyfriend is in love with the cook. If this is fake you have written one of the greatest gay romances of this generation, if this isn’t fake I dunno what.
/u/ParkNight • 399 points 3 months ago
Your BF needs to cut to the chase and invite the cook over to your place for some eggs and rough sex.
/u/Cod3Man • 760 points 4 months ago
He has a crush on the cook & vice versa but they’re both living a lie so they fight because it’s the only way to release the sexual tension. Every different way of cooking an egg represents a different sex act.
/u/jakubada • 523 points 3 months ago
Girl, not to wish ill will on your relationship, but you should bang that waitress instead.
+
“Have you ever heard of Baroque Works?”
Nami pauses. She places her pencil away, knowing that Vivi deserves nothing less than her full attention.
It’s only been a couple of days since the conversation she had with Vivi, but Nami can’t get her mind off of it. She’s been coming to Baratie every single day now after college, and it’s just so convenient that Zoro suddenly refuses to go. It’s simply harder to have Vivi open up when someone else is around, and not because there are other reasons. Like wanting Vivi all to herself. No sire.
She shakes herself out of the dangerous train of thoughts. “Baroque Works? Isn’t that the new restaurant chain down the block? It’s the one that’s taken over that other chain, right? Uh, what was it called—”
“Alabasta,” Vivi supplies, before sighing. “That’s the chain my family used to own.”
Nami blinks. “Wait, you used to own Alabasta?”
Running a diner on her own at her age is already an impressive feat in and of itself, but Alabasta is a whole different beast. It’s a nation-wide chain with dozens of restaurants, and owning the chain is probably equivalent to owning a small empire.
“Oh, no, I mean, my family did,” Vivi quickly adds, ever humble. “It’s not exactly anything impressive. My grandfather ran the business before my father did, and his father was the one who started it—it was passed down the generations, and I was simply born into it.
“As you said, Alabasta went down a few years ago because my father struck a bad deal with a ruthless businessman. It is clear now, in hindsight, that Crocodile was tricking us, but we were naive and perhaps a little too eager to expand. Baroque Works took over, and we were left with the only branch they deemed the least profitable—here.”
“And you renamed it to Baratie?”
“That was Sanji’s idea,” she says, a small smile playing on her lips; it is clearly a much fonder memory than what that businessman—Crocodile—did to her and her family. “At the time, Sanji just moved to Grand Line. His father had a restaurant back in East Blue with the same name, and he told me he would help me build everything back from the ground up. We would borrow the name, acting like we’re a branch of Baratie, and I can rename it back to Alabasta once I can settle all the legalities with Baroque Works.”
Everything slowly falls into place now—the way Sanji is clearly trained to cook dishes much more sophisticated than waffles and scrambled eggs, the freedom he gets to be able to mess around with Zoro, and his close camaraderie with Vivi.
Nami feels a pang of—god, jealousy, if she dares to put a name on it—towards Sanji; for being able to stand by Vivi’s side when she needed it the most. It’s silly, because Sanji has always been kind to her, and it’s not like it was Sanji’s fault that Nami didn’t know Vivi until recently, but the feeling gripped her like a vice anyway, heavy and suffocating.
Vivi seems to have taken her silence wrongly, though, because she looks away, almost shamefully. “You must think this is all stupid.”
“Of course not,” Nami immediately retorts without missing a beat. She thinks of Bellemere, holding her head high despite the judgments from the neighbors. She was alone and penniless, countless doors slammed close in her face just because she was a single mother; but none of that stopped Bellemere from sending Nojiko and Nami to the best school in the neighborhood
So Nami tells Vivi what she has always wanted to tell Bellemere, and what she knows to be true of Vivi, of any women in her life who has never backed down from adversity— “You’re amazing.”
Vivi blinks, cheeks coloring at the words. It takes her a moment before she can reply with a shaky, “Yeah?”
“Yeah? Vivi, you’re—” Nami turns her body to face Vivi fully, grabbing her by the arms, “—you’re the strongest, most hard-working person I’ve ever known. Most people in your shes would’ve turned tails and run.”
Vivi flushes further. It’s the first time Nami has seen her flustered, really cute, actually. And the fact that Nami is the one who put that expression on her face —
“Are we intruding on something?”
Nami almost jumps from her seat, suddenly feeling like she’s five again, getting caught with her hand halfway into the cookie jar. Vivi is scrambling to her feet from her side, cleaning imaginary dust from her uniform as she stammers, “no, of course not! I’m sorry, sir—sirs , can I take your order?”
Nami looks up to see Jinbe laugh and wave at her, signaling her to calm down. Brook is standing right behind him, giving Nami a small wave. “What do you serve?”
Nami tries to return to her map as Vivi starts rattling off the menu, but Brook—wise, old Brook, with his soft voice and observing eyes, goes, “No Zoro this time around, hm?”
Her pen stills. There’s nothing accusatory in Brook’s voice—he would never, none of their friends would never. But she waits for Vivi to be off with their orders still before replying, arms crossed across her chest almost defensively. “What is it to you, old man?”
She realizes a little too late that it’s an awfully rude response, but Jinbe simply laughs. “Old men, aren’t we, Brook?”
“Certainly older than most,” Brook agrees, eyes shining in mirth, not offended the least. “Hopefully wiser, too.”
“Well, sometimes,” Jinbe says, turning to Nami, “old men like us have the fortune—or the misfortune, some may say—to have loved and lost.”
Nami isn’t quite sure where the conversation is going, but there’s grief carried by Jinbe’s voice, and what comes out is, “I’m sorry.”
“It’s all long past, miss,” Jinbe dismisses, not unkindly. “More importantly, what I’m trying to ay is, you and Zoro might have been looking at the wrong places. Love, that is. But there is time to rectify this—isn’t that what you young people have? Time”
Nami sits still, stupefied.
She has the suspicion that Robin knows, but Robin has always had her ways. For Jinbe to notice? Jinbe, who would rather talk about his fishing trips than to gossip? How obvious has she been?
(Open book, the thought resurfaces, unbidden. Heart on her sleeve—)
“Though, Nami?” Brook suddenly says, snapping Nami out of her own reverie.
She suddenly realizes that it’s just the two of them on the table, Jinbe already wandering around after imparting her with some advices. She clears her throat, trying to get her bearings. “Yeah?”
“I have to disagree with our dear Jinbe, I must say. We have loved and lost, but,” he takes her hand and guides it to rest on her heart.
“To love,” Brook says, voice steady, sure as a day. “Is never a misfortune.”
+
r/AmITheAsshole
Realizing I am a lesbian while dating a guy. AITA?
submitted 2 months ago by u/throwawaypinwheel
257 comments share save give award report
Realizing I am a lesbian while dating a guy. AITA?
submitted 2 months ago by /u/throwawaypinwheel
I’m a girl who has gone through a couple of dates with a dude, but I’m falling in love with another girl. Like, I’m having a gay crisis right now. I’m not actually cheating since we haven’t decided to be exclusive yet, but he’s also a childhood friend, so it makes me wonder if this is a dick move?
To make matters more complicated: my date? Friend? Sort of boyfriend? He seems to have fallen in love with someone else too, and it’s another guy, so he might be gay, too.
Yes, I know bisexuality exists. Can’t exactly speak about him but I think I’m not that, so it’s not like I can suck it up and date him instead. AITA?
[deleted] • 725 points 2 months ago
Aren’t you the OP of that one viral post from r/relationship_advice about the Baratie cook?
/u/throwawaypinwheel • 2324 points 2 months ago
Yes, and that’s relevant, how?
/u/alohci • -20 points 2 months ago
LOL you’re clearly a troll. This isn’t r/CreativeWriting, go write your romance novel somewhere else. I’m reporting you to the mods.
/u/cheesus32 • 1739 points 2 months ago
This is better than most shit on Netflix right now
/u/veloace • 1641 points 2 months ago
Communication is key, OP. Sexualities aside—which is a topic for another day—isn’t this essentially a case of the two of you wanting different things from the relationship?
+
Nami takes a deep breath and checks her phone for the time.
She sees the 1:00 displayed on the screen. Her appointment with Zoro is supposed to be on twelve thirty, which means she’ll have another 30 minutes as Zoro gets lost on the way to Baratie as usual. One hour was his record.
She takes another deep breath and sighs.
This is it. She’s going to tell Zoro the truth.
It’s rare for her, to be so nervous around Zoro, but in her defense, it’s not like there’s an easy way to say, “hey, sorry, this may come out of nowhere but I’m breaking things off between us. Apparently I’m a lesbian and I’m also in love with the waitress at the place where we’re supposed to be going on dates in. It’s not you, it’s me.”
...Nami really needs to work on her delivery.
Her heart stutters in her chest as the automatic door slides open and Zoro walks in with the grim determination of a soldier going into battle. Perhaps Zoro is more perceptive than she’s giving him credit for. She hopes so—it surely will make this whole sort of-break up easier for the both of them.
She has run her line over and over again in her head, but nothing has prepared her to see Zoro sit down across the table, bow down, and says, “I’m sory, but I don’t think this is working out for us.”
She blinks. Wait. Wait—“ You're breaking up with me?”
“Luffy thinks we’re having a fight because we’ve been acting weird around each other ever since we tried out this whole dating thing, and hell, Nami, he’s right—I’ve seen you less now,” Zoro plows on, oblivious to her shock. “And don’t get me wrong, you’re my best friend, and you’re still my best friend, and I want us back. The us that’s, you know, normal. Alsoimightbeinlovewiththecook .”
Oh.
That’s—oh.
Nami is pretty sure her mouth is hanging open stupidly now, but she can’t bring herself to care. “Holy shit,” she breathes, perplexed. “Reddit was right.”
Zoro finally looks up at that. “What’s red—” he seems to take in her expression for the first time since the conversation started, eyebrows furrowing. ‘Wait. You’re not mad?”
“Mad? No, Zoro, god—how could I be when you’re right?” She feels her body slumping into the chair, the weight she didn’t know she’d been carrying has suddenly been lifted. “We are terrible for each other. I have no idea what got us to agree to this.”
Zoro visibly relaxes. There’s amusement in his tone as he suggests, “the copious amount of alcohol?”
Right. They were in the middle of a drinking competition when the idea of a date came up. “You know what, in hindsight, it’s kind of crazy that we got this far with such a stupid idea.”
“I think I was running away,” Zoro admits, eyes unwittingly darting towards the kitchen. “I couldn’t—I had this thing, for the Cook, but I couldn’t bring myself to admit it. So I tried to make you an excuse for my cowardice.” He bows again. “I’m sorry.”
“No, no, dummy, don’t—” she kicks him on the shin, forcing him to stop bowing. “Stop being all bushido on me. I wasn’t any better. I’m—in love with Vivi.”
It’s Zoro’s turn to look at her in surprise. “What, really?”
It’s comforting, in a way, that at least she isn’t so obvious that Zoro would notice. “Yeah. You’re probably too preoccupied with your pretty blond to notice, but I’ve been pretty smitten myself. And I guess I have you and your little crush to thank for dragging me here in the first place.”
Zoro blushes at that, and it’s cute—not in a way that makes her want to kiss him, but definitely in a way that makes her want to tease him until the end days. God, how did it take her so long to realize she never loved him that way?
“‘Dragging” you, huh?” Zoro seems to decide to hone in on that, probably because he could burn himself alive from embarrassment if he keeps talking about Sanji. “This place is that bad for a date?”
Nami throws her head back and laughs. “You’re the worst date ever, Zoro,” she says, in between peals of laughter. “But you’re the best wingman I’ve ever had.”
+
“Going on a date again this time?” Vivi asks.
Nami looks at her—really takes her in, her smooth long hair and bright smile and long eyelashes. Holy shit, she’s staring at her eyelashes. She is so fucking gay.
She clears her throat. Focus, Nami. “No, actually, uh, can we talk? Like, super serious.”
Vivi immediately straightens up at that. “Of course. Give me a moment."
She rushes towards the kitchen, probably to tell Sanji that she’ll be occupied for a moment; something pulls inside Nami’s chest at the sight, knowing that Vivi would drop everything to be by Nami’s side.
When Vivi reemerges from the kitchen, she’s no longer carrying the tray and the menu. She takes a seat beside Nami and takes her hand. “Is everything all right?”
“Yeah, kind of, uh,” here goes nothing. “Zoro and I broke up.”
Vivi’s free hand shot up to cover her mouth in surprise. “Oh my god, Nami, I’m so sorry.”
“No, no, don’t be,” she rushes to clarify, before Vivi gets the wrong idea, “I did say we broke up, but that isn’t exactly right—I mean, we were never exclusive, Vivi. And I don’t think we were ever dating for real. Like, we’re gay.”
There’s a beat. “What?”
Okay, so Nami could have broken the news much more smoothly than that.
“Zoro and I, uh—I’m gay. And Zoro never exactly put a label, but I’m pretty sure he never even dreamed of banging a chick, and—” she squeezes Vivi’s hand. She isn’t sure she’s doing it for Vivi or herself. “I know this is a lot, but I just—I think we were just very comfortable with each other, and since we are man and woman, we somehow thought we should date. Which is dumb, looking back at it, but we’d never fallen in love before.”
She thinks of Vivi—beautiful, fierce, kind Vivi, who carries the world on her shoulders. Vivi, whose smile lights up the whole room. “We didn’t know how different it was going to be, when it’s the real thing.”
Somewhere behind them, she can hear something heavy hit the floor in the kitchen, which means Zoro must have confessed right about now and Sanji must have dropped something from the shock.
Well, at least Vivi hasn’t dropped anything yet.
“What I’m trying to say is,” she continues, finding newfound courage from the way Vivi looks at her—is that hope in her eyes? “Vivi, you’re the most wonderful, amazing person I’ve ever met, and you’re beautiful and pretty but I like you more than just that.” She takes Vivi’s hand in both of hers now. “Would you go out with me?”
There’s a moment as her words seem to sink in, and Nami feels her blood run cold—what if she read this whole thing wrongly? What if Vivi was straight? What if she was just trying to help out a friend, being the nice person she is?
But then Vivi’s face splits into a smile, soft and golden-warm, the white light of the overhead fluorescence illuminating her almost ethereal-like. “Yes, Nami,” she says, lacing their fingers together, “I would love to go out with you. But only on one condition.”
“Anything,” Nami says without thinking, because it’s true.
Vivi grins, and there’s a teasing edge on her voice as she says, “If you’re asking me on a date in a diner, count me out.”
“Oh my god,” Nami says, finally, finally pulling Vivi in for a kiss, “never again.”
+
UPDATE: My (20F) Date (21M) has left me for a Baratie cook (21M)
submitted 3 days ago by /u/throwawaypinwheel
It’s fine though, I have a girlfriend (18F, beautiful, amazing, doesn’t get into fights with random cooks) now. Yes, it’s the waitress. Yes, you guys have told me so. I’d love to take the L, but I’m the one with a hot girlfriend here, so am I really losing in this scenario?
185 notes
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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
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The Shark Stuffie
Anonymous Said: my life’s been pretty shit recently and I’m so stressed rn and my anxiety is through the roof meaning I can’t sleep either..could you maybe write something small about harry comforting you and coaxing you to sleep with sweet coos💕
Based Off Of This Ask
And This One
A/N: I feel like I haven't written some fluff in a LONG ass time...like the last pure fluff piece I wrote was all the way back in the beginning of January. That’s lowkey due to my vibes being off, my lack of motivation to do just about anything, and the fact that my writing schedule has been rearranged too many times. Either way tho...I hope y'all like this fic, it’s rlly cute and softtt and it’s definitely relatable for many of us. Enjoyy🙃
3.5k wordss
You had a bit of an obsession with animal documentaries. There was just something about them that just drew you in and captivated you. Whenever you watched the films or shows, you were always glued to the screen and utterly fascinated with the creatures being displayed before your eyes. Whenever you watched them with Harry, he’d always tease you about your obsession and being completely glued to the screen, jokingly saying that you were more in love with the animals than you were with him. Which couldn’t have been the farthest thing from the truth of course. But in true Y/n fashion, instead of just shooting his far fetched claims down, you would always tease him back; saying that you were in fact madly in love with whatever animal was on the screen at that moment, and that if he wanted to reclaim his number one spot on your list of loves, he’d have to put in some serious work. And then over the following couple of minutes, the two of you would go on to further the banter, trying to land the snarkiest little remark and “win”...even though it wasn’t even a competition to begin with. Sometimes you two were able to go a good while going back and forth on who you loved the most, Harry or the animals and their documentaries. Other times, and most times for that matter, you two would just burst into a fit of laughs before snuggling up together for the rest of the documentary. You of course rewinding it to play back anything you missed when your attention was on Harry.
Which speaking of Harry, he thought your obsession with animals and the documentaries was the most precious and adorable thing thing in the entire world. He couldn’t (and never wanted to for that matter) get the image of your face lighting up when you watched the documentaries or discovered that a new one had come out for you to watch. He loved how happy and at ease you were when you watched the animal documentaries. On top of the fact that Harry loved how happy you got when watching the documentaries, Harry was slowly growing a little bit of an obsession with the documentaries too. And because of that, not only did he suggest making you guys’ date nights animal documentaries nights, but he also began to feed your obsession by means of plushies. If you two watched a documentary on giraffes, he’d be on the hunt for the cutest little giraffe plushie the entire week after and leading up to you guys’ next date night. And if you were going on and on about a particular animal he’d try to find the cutest plushy to get for you to add to your collection. Most times Harry was able to get lucky and find the cutest plushy for the animal you were obsessed with at the moment. But there were also times where he wasn’t so lucky. Either the animal was too exotic to be in stuffed animal form, or it wasn’t cute enough for Harry’s liking. He took his job of feeding your animal obsession very seriously.
But either way, plushy or no plushy, you were just happy to enjoy and share your love of animal documentaries with your boyfriend who you loved even more. And Harry, whether or not he’d be able find the perfect plushy, was always going to do his very best to put an even bigger smile on your face. Even if it meant having to get a little creative at times.
Now for the first time in the five or so months you’ve been obsessed with animals and watching the documentaries, you were stuck on one animal; Sharks. You weren’t quite sure as to what was so fascinating about the incredibly deadly creature but you couldn’t get enough of them. You were watching documentary after documentary on them and you even went as far as to find and watch old shark week episodes. You were quite obsessed to say the least. For the past, just about two weeks when you and Harry had your weekly animal documentary night/date night, you’d turn on something about sharks. Which prompted Harry to go out and find the perfect plushies to add to your collection. He managed to find the cutest one online the thought you’d love and he immediately placed his order so that it would arrive as soon as possible. While he waited for that stuffed animal to arrive, Harry figured you’d be onto the next animal. But no, the following week you were still obsessed with sharks. Which meant that a knot her shark plushy would be coming your way in no time. So once again, Harry went back on the “prowl” for the best shark plushies out there, spending the better part of his Wednesday evening looking for the perfect one.
After looking through the pages of plushies, hoping to find one that he could buy in-store, Harry finally found the one. It was a fairly big shark plushy, and from the photos it looked to be pretty cute, and it seemed to be very soft. All of Harry’s boxes were checked off. But the ultimate selling point for it though, was the fact that it was weighted. See, you had really bad anxiety. Your mind was constantly racing, you were constantly worrying about things and what could go wrong, and you couldn’t stop overanalyzing everything and the decision you made. It was hard for you to get rest, even when you were exhausted and in dire need of a good nights sleep. And your preexisting anxiety was only exacerbated by school. One of the things that made your mind and body all calm down in those moments where you were completely overloaded and inundated with anxiety and stress was your weighted blanket. It kind of forced you to take time out for yourself and relax, and feel comfortable, taking your mind off of the stresses that were fueling the fire of your anxiety. It was honestly like a much needed big hug and was absolutely perfect when you couldn’t exactly have Harry, your ultimate anxiety and stress reliever.
And on the topic of school, you were drowning. You were having a very rough week to say the least. Your to do list grew longer and longer as the days passed, and you were pretty sure your anxiety had reached an all time high and was on the path to reaching another record high. This week you had so many academic responsibilities you had to take care of, on top of all the things you had to do and wanted to do when it came to your personal life. You felt like every time you got one thing accomplished, two or three more things were thrown at you and demanded your attention. No matter how hard you tried to put things on a schedule and properly manage your time, a sudden wrench would be thrown into your plans and screw everything up; making your life increasingly difficult to navigate. Just the idea of school caused your anxiety to flare up. So to add everything you had to do for school this week along with your other responsibilities on top of that was quite much for you to handle. You didn’t even have the time, let alone the energy, to even have a proper breakdown and let it all out. You’d simply shed a few tears, take a deep breath, take a sip of your water, and push your feelings of being overwhelmed and tired to the side so that you could get shit done. The only things that brought you some type of relief this week were your weighted blanket, Harry’s comforting words, and you guys’ Friday night date night. And the plushies Harry told you he had for you.
When Harry spoke to you throughout the week and listened to how your week was going and how horrible it was going for you, he made it his mission to give you everything you needed when you came over on Friday night so that you can throw the terrible week you had away and have a relaxing and stress-free weekend. Once Friday finally arrived for you two, Harry spent most of the day just getting everything ready for when you came over. He went out and picked up all your favorite snacks, food, and anything else you liked, along with the weighted shark plushy and a new weighted blanket for you. You on the other hand were laser-focused on your school work and anything else that needed to be taken care of. You wanted to get everything done so that you’d have to spend no time whatsoever over the weekend doing anything besides being with Harry and relaxing your entire being. The only thing keeping you going today was the weekend Harry had planned for you. That’s it. And once you finally cleared your plate later on in the day, you dashed right over to Harry. You couldn’t wait any longer to watch your shark documentary with Harry and your new, no doubt, shark plushies.
When you get to Harry’s place, you practically break the door down and you nearly knocked Harry off his feet from how you ran in and immediately nestled yourself into him. It was nearly five minutes before the two of you even verbally greeted each other. At that moment, you just wanted to be held. Harry was the sure-fire way to calm you down when you were going through a major bout of anxiety. His presence alone made you feel safe and okay. You had your arms locked around his midsection, keeping your grasp on him as tight as possible. Almost as if you were afraid that he was going to float away from you. And Harry didn’t mind this one bit, nor did he hesitate to wrap you up in his arms and just hold you just as tight and close to him.
“Hi” You mumble into the soft fabric of Harry’s hoodie, breaking the silence between you two.
“Hi baby” He softly replies to you, squeezing you a little bit.
“Missed you this week.” You continue on, relaxing a bit more into Harry.
“I missed you too sweets. You had a pretty rough week huh?” Harry coos, continuing to hold you and stroke your back.
“Mhm…m’so tired.” You sigh.
“Well how about we get you upstairs and in a nice warm shower to get you relaxed a bit while I bring everything up. And then we can watch one of your documentaries. How does that sound sweets?” Harry proposes.
“Sounds amazing.” You agree, loosening your grip on Harry in the process.
“Then let’s get you upstairs” He then proceeds to loosen his grip around you as well before guiding you from the front door and up the stairs. Once you’re all squared away and in the shower, Harry moves his setup in the living room upstairs in the bedroom, hiding the little gifts he got for you on the floor on his side of the bed. Harry also lays out some clothes for you to throw on. You had your own drawer and everything, but even though that was the case, you still went right to his clothes. So Harry didn’t even bother going through your drawer for anything. After laying out your clothes and everything you needed for when you’re all done with your shower, Harry orders what you told him you wanted for dinner before you got in the shower. Which ends up being a good thirty minutes. It was just so nice to have some time to yourself and not have to stress or worry about something you had to get done. It was such a relief to be able to just stand under the running hot water and just not have to think. The steaming hot water melted the caked-on stress from the week and just rinsed it away, making you feel so much better than you did when you first walked through the door.
It was also a relief to walk out of the bathroom and into your boyfriend's bedroom with everything waiting for you. When you stepped out of the bathroom and back into the bedroom, you stepped into this warm and cozy atmosphere Harry created for you. The bed is all warm and comfy, and extremely inviting. He had your clothes and all your post-shower stuff laid out for you on the bed. Harry even had one of your favorite candles lit on the bedside table. The tv was even on with an array of animal documentaries for you to pick from. Up until he had to rush downstairs to get the takeout he ordered for you two, Harry helped you get all settled in bed. And when he comes back upstairs, this time with the food you (and your stomach) were beyond excited for, you were all done getting ready and tucked right under the covers waiting for him to come back.
Harry quickly shuffles across the room to sit the food down onto the bed before lifting the little basket he filled to the brim with your favorite little snacks up onto the bed, making you even happier than you were already, and hopping into bed with you. He then hands you the remote, giving you the power to choose whichever documentary you wanted to watch, along with a small peck to your cheek, marking the official start to you guys’ date night/relaxing weekend. While you and Harry watch the first documentary of the night together, you’re intently watching the screen just like always as you happily stuff your mouth with the delicious food in front of you. As you watched the documentary, Harry on the other hand couldn’t help but sit back and just watch you. He was so happy to see you all relaxed and peaceful, opposed to being all stressed out and anxiety-ridden like you were when you first came over.
By the end of the first film, you and Harry are completely done with your food and have moved on to clearing off the bed so that you two can cuddle and possibly fall asleep during the next one. Once the bed is all clear and free for you and Harry to move around, you two immediately move in closer and get nice and comfortable in each other before starting the next shark-related documentary.
“Thank you so much for all of this Harry.” You thank him, breaking your focus on the tv and shifting it to Harry.
“Anything for you sweets” Harry coos, turning his attention away from the tv as well. “I hate it when you’re going through it, especially when I cant be there to help you get through. So I just wanted to give you a nice relaxing and calm weekend for you to just feel better.” He explains.
“I love you Harry.” You hum, lifting your head up from his chest to peer up at him. You weren’t able to fully comprehend why and how you even deserved such an amazing boyfriend who always wanted to make you happy when you were sad and not doing okay, and even happier when you were already beaming. He was one of the best things in your life, and one of the few that didn’t stress you out.
“I love you too baby.” Harry whispers, looking down at you and locking eyes with yours. The same way you felt like Harry’s mere existence made everything at least feel better, Harry felt the exact same way. So whenever you were going through it and not doing okay, Harry didn’t take that lightly. He always made sure to do everything in his power to get you to a better place.
When Harry puckers his lips in your direction, you immediately lock yours with them, sucking you both into a love-filled little kiss. It was nice and soft for the atmosphere you and Harry were in, but it wasn’t incredibly slow, nor it did it feel rushed or like it was lasting forever. It was perfect.
“I got you something baby!” Harry whispers excitedly upon pulling away from your lips, tapping at your sides for you to sit up.
“You told me they were plushies.” You reply, excited to see what he picked for you this time. Harry always managed to get you the cutest little stuffed animals so you were really excited to see what he got you this time.
“Yup! And here’s the first one.” Harry says, leaning down to pick up and reveal to you the regular plushy he found for you the first time.
“Oh my goodness! That’s too adorable!” You coo, holding up and looking at the adorable little shark Harry got for you. It was absolutely amazing and you were so so so excited to see the next one.
“Ready for the next one? I think you’re gonna like this one the most.” Harry says, causing you to immediately nod your head in response. “M’gonna need you to close your eyes too.” He instructs.
Once your eyes are closed, Harry leans down and picks up the weighted and fairly big shark plushy before sitting it in your lap. He then grabs the new weighted blanket he got for you and sits it between you both before instructing you to open your eyes.
When you see what Harry placed into your lap, you could instantly feel the tears welling up in your eyes. It was like Harry knew exactly what you wanted and needed. You absolutely loved your weighted blanket and you always used it, even when you weren’t in need of something to calm your anxiety. You also loved plushies, even before you were heavily into animals and Harry was finding you all sorts of plushies. They brought you some much-needed serotonin whenever you were feeling down and they were your little cuddle buddies. So to have a weighted one, a combination of everything that never failed to calm your anxiety down was absolutely amazing and you couldn’t have been more happy and appreciative. That’s why you just couldn’t help it when you started crying. You wasted absolutely no time wrapping Harry in the biggest hug, thanking him over and over for the plushy. But it wasn’t long until you just broke down.
“You have no idea how much this means to me, I had such a horrible week.” You sob into him.
“I know baby.” He coos, stroking your back as you cried. Even though he hated it when you cried, he knew that you always felt lighter whenever you just let it all out.
“I had panic attacks every day and I didn’t get enough sleep and I didn’t eat much either and I didn’t have you there for cuddles. It was so bad.” You cry, your voice cracking at the end, making Harry only tighten his arms around you. He knew it was a bad week for you, but he didn’t know it was this bad. You only told him but so much over the phone.
“Well I’m here now baby and I’m gonna take good care of you and get you back and feeling better.” Harry promises, continuing to hold you as you cry into him. You were so vulnerable right now and he just wanted you, his baby, to feel better.
As you continued to cry, you continued to mumble and talk about just how bad your week was and how much he was doing for you helped you feel better. Eventually, you ran out of words and the energy to speak or even cry. So Harry began to whisper sweet little nothings and reassurance that you’re going to be okay and that he’s going to take care of you. And as he did this, Harry could feel your body heave less and less from the crying and the little hiccups that came along with it. Once you’ve calmed down a little and as the sleep begins to overtake you, Harry then unwraps an arm from around you and reaches over to turn out the light and blow out the candle before pulling the covers higher up over you two. He also pulled the plushy and still folded blanket up as well, just in case you wanted either of them.
“Please don’t watch without me.” You mumble, your voice all nasally and filled with sleep. You were no longer tightly wrapped around Harry, but instead resting on his chest.
“I won’t darling. I just paused it so that we can go back and watch it later on when you’re nice and rested.” Harry replies through a soft chuckle continuing to stroke your back.
“Pinky promise.” You mumble back, lazily lifting your pinky up from under the covers for Harry to hook his around.
“Pinky promise.” He replies softly, bringing his pinky in to hook it around yours, sealing his promise. “Now get some rest baby.” He whispers, pulling your still intertwined hands down and pressing a kiss to your forehead.
Masterlist
#Harry Styles#harry styles smut#harry smut#harry styles imagine#harry styles imagines#harry styles blurb#harry styles blurbs#harry styles x reader#harry x reader#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles fic#harry styles fanfic#harry styles one shot#harry styles one shots#harry styles x y/n#harry styles x you#harry styles writing#my harry writing#boyfriend!harry#concepts of h#harrywritingsbyme
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bookworm | jeon wonwoo
ミ★ synopsis: who knew that the cute guy you met at the library is one of the best players on the football team? literally everyone but you.
ミ★ genre: high school!au, jock!au, humor, fluff
ミ★ warnings: none !
ミ★ word count: 3,171
ミ★ pairings: wonwoo x female reader
ミ★ notes: i will be tagging @babiesanshine because she told me i have to tag her in anything i write that involves wonwoo. here’s a cute little oneshot i wrote, i hope you guys enjoy it <3
The weather isn’t too cold. It’s at the temperature you like, where it’s not too hot, not too cold, but a good medium. However, it’s a sign that summer is truly ending, and you’re somehow going to miss it. Even if you did spend a majority of it staying in your room, either playing video games or sleeping. What can you say? Summer is truly the time to unwind.
But today your mom had other ideas, having woken you up at ten in the morning. She told you to do something ‘productive’ with your last week of summer, aka, go the fuck outside. It’s now one pm in the afternoon, and you’re driving to the library because why the hell not? You’ve never been to the library before, and it’s your senior year of high school. Might as well see what books they have in case you’ll need to do a quick run to the library because of your classes.
You stick your hand out the window, doing small wave motions while the air hits it. While you spent most of summer inside, you love the vibe it brings. It’s just the idea of being able to be free for three months, without the stress of deadlines, group projects, or finals. Smiling at the feeling of being free, you turn into the parking lot, parking your car under the tree. Turning off the engine, you step out of the car, letting out a small sigh as you stare at the old library. You straighten out your skirt, before walking towards the entrance, phone and wallet in your bag.
You step into the library, giving the librarian a small smile in greeting. She gives you a happy wave, before going back to her work. You glance at your surroundings, taking in the ambiance of the building. It’s a bit brighter than other libraries you’ve seen, the wooden shelves being painted white, and the walls having a floral detail to them. It has a more happy theme I guess you could say. You let out a breath, somehow feeling like you’re going to come here more often at the cozy feeling it gives you.
“Nice.” You whisper, before walking further inside. Your hand reaches out towards the shelves, letting it drag softly across the numerous books lined up. You perk up at a sudden thought and you head towards the kids section, wondering if they have your favorite children's books. You’re so caught up in thinking about the frog and toad series that you quite literally slam into someone and fall backwards.
You let out a squeak, closing your eyes as your hands prepare to soften the impact, only for you to realize that you’re no longer falling. You register the arms wrapped around your waist, and you’re 100% convinced that you’re being abducted by aliens. You slowly open your eyes, and they immediately widen once they land on the person who caught you.
His black hair is fluffy and falls over his forehead. He’s wearing specs, slightly covering his strong nose. You take notice of his eyes, a pretty shape that would make him seem more intimidating if he wasn’t wearing his round glasses. His lips are really pink, and he’s absolutely the most handsome guy you’ve ever laid eyes on in your seventeen years of living. He gives you a smile, and you feel as if you’re going to faint because,
what the fuck !!! he’s so pretty !!!! this is fucking illegal !!!!
“Are you okay?”
oh my god !?!?! his voice is so deep too !!!!! i’m literally going to go into cardiac arrest-
“Um, hello?” He releases an arm from your waist, waving his hand in front of your face to see if you’ve passed out with your eyes open, and you almost fall into an internal monologue again because holy shit he’s only holding me with one arm, but then your eyes widen. You immediately fix your stance, his other arm falling from your waist as you are now standing on your own.
“I… am so sorry.” You mutter, and he chuckles at your wide eyes. You open your mouth to apologize again and he shakes his head, smiling softly at you. “It’s alright, it’s partially my fault too. I’m just glad I caught you before you fell.”
i quite literally fell in another way i won’t lie to you luv x
“Thank you for doing that. Saved my ass from some bruising.” You joke, only to shut your eyes at how suggestive that sounds. He gives you an amused look, finding you more endearing the more you speak. You don’t dare look at him, deciding that staring into the darkness of your eyelids is much more preferable at this moment as you would very much rather choke. He lets out a laugh, “It’s okay, you can open your eyes. Sometimes things sound a lot more suggestive than they should. It is what it is.”
You slowly peek at him, and see that he’s smiling at you. You stand up straight, letting out a small cough into your elbow, before grinning back at him. He extends his hand towards you, “Hi, I’m Jeon Wonwoo, 17 years old.”
You stare at his hand for a second, somehow surprised that his hands are also really pretty. You reach out and softly grasp his hand, “Hi, I’m yln yn, 17 as well.”
The two of you stay like that for a moment, him wondering how your hand fits his so well, and you thinking of how you’d really like to continue holding his hand. You regretfully let go first, giving him a smile.
“So, what brings you to the library on the last week of summer break?” Wonwoo grins, giving you a shrug.
“I had a mission to read every book in this library, and I think I’m almost done.” You tilt your head at him, leaning back on the shelves and sizing him up. You purse your lips, and he crosses his arms in an attempt to make himself look more serious.
“Oh really?”
“No, the mission was just for this science-fiction section actually.” He answers, dropping his tough facade and motioning towards the aisle the two of you are in. You giggle at his antics, and Wonwoo feels his heart warm at the sound, proud that he was able to be the cause of it. “Why’d you exaggerate it then?”
He turns his head towards you, giving you a big smile. “Wanted to impress you.”
You look away when you feel your face turn warm at his honesty, reaching up and rubbing the back of your neck. You smile, turning back towards him once an idea comes to your mind.
“Wanna read children's books with me instead?” He purses his lips, before grinning at you.
“Only if we start off with frog and toad books.”
“What kind of person would I be if we didn’t start off with frog and toad, Wonwoo?”
“I like you already.”
“It’s been a month since I last saw you, and you wanna meet up at the big football game?” You ask into the phone, an amused smile on your face. You hear Wonwoo chuckle on the other end, “It’ll be fun. I can introduce you to some of my friends.”
You raise an eyebrow, rolling over on your bed so that you’re now staring at your ceiling. You purse your lips, realizing that you can also introduce your best friend to Wonwoo, considering that she’s been incredibly curious of the guy at the library. Otherwise known as,
your summer fling that isn’t really a summer fling because you guys haven’t done anything romantic other than smile at each other.
Since school started, you and Wonwoo have been too busy to hangout. You thought he was a new student at your school since you surely would’ve remembered someone as handsome as him, but to your surprise, he wasn’t. Once you got home from your first day of school, you immediately called Wonwoo and asked what school he goes to. Turns out he goes to the high school on the other side of town, your school’s biggest rival when it comes to football.
never expected him to be interested in football, let alone the biggest game of the year since our schools are competing against each other, but i miss wonwoo a lot.
“I’m intrigued.”
“Is that a yes?” Wonwoo asks, a big smile on his face as he waits for your answer. He hears Seungcheol and Jeonghan make kissy noises from behind him, and he rolls his eyes. You grin, letting out a sigh to make it sound like you’re not as excited as you actually are.
“I suppose it is. I’ll see you on Friday then bookworm?” You tease, and you hear him let out a chuckle, causing you to giggle yourself.
“Yes you will gamer. I’ll text you later, my friends are being annoying.” Wonwoo tells you, laughing at the sound of Seungcheol and Jeonghan now whining at the fact that he insulted them. You smile, opening your mouth to say bye when Wonwoo adds, “I miss you. I’ll see you on Friday.”
Your cheeks heat up, and you hear Wonwoo’s friends in the background teasing him once again. Running a hand through your hair you mutter, “I miss you too. See you soon, Wonwoo.”
You end the call, placing your phone beside you. You bite your lip, big smile on your face, before grabbing your pillow and shoving it over your face.
“aaaaaaAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!”
“Okay, where’s your boyfriend?” Jihyo asks once the two of you enter the venue, and you nudge her shoulder. “He’s not my boyfriend! Don’t call him that in front of him and his friends alright? I’ll literally eat your ass if you do that.”
Jihyo winks at you, and you roll your eyes, causing her to throw her head back in laughter. She holds your arm, giving you a squeeze to show you she’s just teasing. You pull out your phone, curious as to which area Wonwoo and his friends are sitting, only to see his new text,
wonoot: i’m running a bit late, just go and sit on the bleachers and i’ll find you later <3
You pout, “He’s running a bit late, but he told us that he’ll find us when he gets here.”
“Okay, I think the game’s about to start so let’s go find a spot before everything gets taken!” Jihyo tells you with a smile, pulling you towards the stands. The two of you find a spot in the third row of the middle bleachers, giving you a solid view of the football field. You place your water bottle in the spot Wonwoo will sit, and you pull out your phone to tell him where you and Jihyo are sitting.
you: we’re in the third row, middle bleachers !!
“Those football uniforms really highlight their asses. Even if they don’t really have one, in those uniforms they do.” Jihyo says, and you snort at how true her statement is. You look up, seeing the football players running onto the field. You’re about to open your mouth to respond, when you catch sight of one of the players from the opposing team taking off his helmet. “Oh? That looks a lot like Wonwoo’s friend, Jeonghan. I didn’t know he played.”
“He’s cute.” Jihyo mutters appreciatively beside you, and you nod your head. Wonwoo has a lot of pictures of his friend group on Instagram, and it shocked you to see that all of them are handsome.
how you wished the guys at your school looked like this.
You watch as they all go to stand on the line, getting their names called over the loudspeakers. You tilt your head to the side when almost half of the opposing football team is filled with Wonwoo’s friends. “That’s so weird, almost all of Wonwoo’s friends are on their school’s football team.”
“And Wonwoo isn’t?” Jihyo asks, turning to glance at you as she prepares to take a sip of water. You shake your head, before letting out a small giggle, “Probably because he’s a bookworm-”
“Now we have #96, wide receiver Jeon Wonwoo.” Your mouth drops open, and Jihyo spits out her water back into the bottle. You stare with wide eyes as #96 takes off his helmet, revealing Wonwoo who’s sporting a big smile on his face. He runs a hand through his hair, revealing his forehead and strong eyebrows.
“Y-your summer fling...”
“He’s a jock?!”
Wonwoo squints at the middle bleachers, trying to find you from across the field. Jun turns his head to glance at his friend, letting out a chuckle when he sees the expression on his face. He nudges his shoulder, “Your face looks stupid.”
Wonwoo laughs, hitting Jun’s arm. “I’m trying to find yn, but she’s too far to see from here.”
“Bet you gave her the shock of her life.” Jeonghan jokes from beside him, and Wonwoo smiles.
“That was the goal.”
“Let’s go Wonwoo!!” You scream, not even caring that some of your classmates are glaring at you for cheering on the opposing team. Jihyo cheers alongside you, doing a victory dance whenever Wonwoo’s team scores.
It’s the fourth quarter, and Wonwoo’s team has the ball for the final seconds of the game. They need three more points to win, and there’s only thirty seconds left on the clock. In all honesty, they need a miracle to win this game.
To say you were shocked when you found out Wonwoo was on the football team was partially an understatement. However, finding out that he’s really fucking good at being a wide receiver almost made you pass out. Wonwoo, the guy who spent the whole summer trying to read all of the books in the science-fiction section at the local library, is among the fastest and best players on his team.
plot twist indeed luv.
You grasp Jihyo’s hand once they get out of their team huddle, watching Wonwoo go to his position. You feel anxious, and way too invested in a high school football game. The ball gets thrown to Seungcheol, and your eyes follow Wonwoo as he runs all the way down the field. You’re frozen once the ball leaves Seungcheol’s hands, shooting across the field towards Wonwoo.
It’s as if time slows down, and your heartbeat is loud against your ears as Wonwoo lifts his hands up. You squeeze Jihyo’s hand tightly, and your mouth drops open when Wonwoo fucking catches it. You and Jihyo scream when he sprints the last few feet towards the end zone.
“GO WONWOO!!” You screech, and you lift your arms up in victory when he runs into the end zone right as the buzzer goes off. Your eyes go to the board, 43-49. You and Jihyo jump together happily as Wonwoo takes off his helmet, a giant smile on his face as his friends run directly into him in a huge group hug.
“Guys let go of him! He’s been dying to go see his girl.” Jeonghan laughs, and heat rushes to Wonwoo’s face once the guys start cooing at him. He slaps Joshua’s arm once he starts up the kissy noises. “Shut up, she’s not my girl yet.”
“YET?!”
“I heard a yet fellas!”
“I hate it here, I’m gonna go see yn now.” Wonwoo says with a big smile on his face, effectively breaking away from his group and running towards the bleachers.
“I think he’s going to see you! GO DOWN!” Jihyo shouts once she sees Wonwoo running in your direction. She grabs the water bottles before taking your arm and pulling you out of the bleachers. The two of you sprint down the stairs while you whine,
“Jihyo stop dragging me!”
To which your loving best friend responds, “No bitch!”
You both run towards the opening in the fence, now on the track field. Wonwoo catches sight of you, running a bit faster until he meets you halfway. You let out a big smile, breaking out of Jihyo’s grip and immediately wrapping your arms around Wonwoo, even if he is sweaty. He freezes, before hugging you back, one hand cradling your head. You pull away after a moment so that you can look into his eyes, your guys’ arms still wrapped around each other.
“You should’ve told me you were on the team! I would’ve made you a poster!!” You scold, and Wonwoo lets out a laugh.
“I just won the biggest game of the school year and you’re yelling at me for not telling you I was on the football team?” He jokes, and you stick your tongue out at him. “Yes, that’s exactly what I’m doing. Makes me feel like a bad gir-friend. A bad friend.”
Wonwoo raises an eyebrow at your correction, and you look away as soon as you feel your cheeks turn warm at your mishap. Jihyo squeals quietly behind you two, taking as many pictures as she can. Wonwoo lifts his hand, resting it on your chin and making you turn your head so that you’re staring at him again.
“Will you be my girlfriend?”
“I beg your pardon?”
“Will you be my girlfriend?” Wonwoo repeats, an amused smile forming on his face when you turn your head to see if he was asking someone else behind you. He squeezes your waist with his other hand, eliciting a squeal from you. “We’re literally hugging each other and you think I’m asking another girl to be my girlfriend?”
“I mean… maybe?” You respond, and Wonwoo chuckles, shaking his head at your silliness.
“But on a real note, will you be my girlfriend?” He asks more seriously, and you grin at him.
“Of course Wonwoo, I’ll be your girlfriend.”
“HELL YEAH!!!”
“LET’S GO BABY!!!”
“MY SHIP HAS SAILED!!!!” You and Wonwoo turn your heads to see his friends and Jihyo jumping up and down happily at the two of you becoming official. You raise a hand up to your mouth as you laugh at their antics, and Wonwoo rolls his eyes.
“I’m sorry about them.” He whispers to you, specifically eyeing Soonyoung and Seokmin making kissy faces towards you and Wonwoo. You turn your head towards your boyfriend, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek, causing the guys and Jihyo to screech even louder. Wonwoo lifts a hand to the area, smile forming on his face as he turns to you.
“Consider it a winner’s kiss.” You tell him shyly, giving him finger guns. Wonwoo laughs at your cuteness, before leaning down and pressing a kiss to your forehead. Your eyes widen, and out of the corner of your eye you see Seungkwan and Chan fall to the track, unable to express how cute they find you two in words and screeches.
“Consider it a winner’s kiss as well, for getting me as your boyfriend.” Wonwoo jokes, and you roll your eyes.
“So cocky.”
“You love it though.”
“Just a smidge, bookworm.”
#seventeen#seventeen scenarios#seventeen oneshots#seventeen x reader#seventeen oneshot#seventeen fluff#seventeen angst#seventeen wonwoo#wonwoo#jeon wonwoo#wonwoo x reader#wonwoo oneshot#wonwoo scenarios#wonwoo fluff#wonwoo angst#wonwoo oneshots#wonwoo au#wonwoo fics#wonwoo x you#jeon wonwoo scenarios#jeon wonwoo fluff#jeon wonwoo x reader#jeon wonwoo angst#jeon wonwoo fics#jeon wonwoo oneshots
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Lovedust Pt.6 || Peter Parker x Stark Reader
Summary: Y/N finds out more about how the lovedust works and it leads to her realizing her biggest fears about Peter if he’s cured.
Word Count: 4.2k
Author’s Note: There’s a lot going on right now but thank you guys for being so incredibly kind and patient with me. Shit is going to hit the fan real soon with Lovedust so stay tuned! ALSO Don’t forget to leave comments if you guys liked it or hey even if you hated it! ALSO ALSO My taglist is getting pretty big and hectic so if I missed yours, I am VERY sorry pls just message me again so I can add you asap!
Warnings: Mild language, mentions of death and nightmares, slowburn
part one || part two || part three || part four || part five || part six ||
part seven || part eight || epilogue
As your eyes fluttered open, you gave yourself a minute to adjust to the sound of rain hitting against your bedroom window. You closed your eyes as you inhaled deeply, your arm instinctively reached beside you to touch Peter, only to find that side of the bed empty.
You opened your eyes again and slowly raised yourself up to turn to see that your prediction was correct and that he wasn’t next to you. You knew it wasn’t a dream, you distinctively remembered him holding you as you fell asleep but you guessed he might’ve left soon after.
The memories of last night rushed through your head as you felt your heart drop slightly and already, you felt empty so early in the morning. You remembered everything about the nightmare but more importantly, you remembered Peter cradling you like a child as you cried in his arms.
You couldn’t wrap your head around a single feeling to describe the thoughts in your mind. As every day passed, Peter was showing you more and more how much he truly cared for you, and the thought of him not being able to keep the same energy once he was cured terrified you.
You loved this new Peter and how kind and compassionate he was around you. It was annoying at first dealing with the cringey pick up lines and weird comments about the two of you getting married but now that you realized there was more to those side effects, you found him even more endearing.
It was the small things like how he sacrificed the right side of his body so that you could fit under the umbrella perfectly or how he would willingly sit through a horror movie for you even though you both knew how much he hated them.
You even saw a change in yourself and how you treated him. The other day, you two sat side by side on the couch and shared headphones while listening to the playlist you made for him or when you would tell him a dumb joke just so you could hear him laugh.
It was selfish to hang onto the idea that Peter would always be this kind to you but you rather savored the moments you two had together since you knew better to know that nothing in life was guaranteed.
You felt embarrassed that he had seen you so vulnerable, especially since Peter didn’t know what happened to your parents and now, you felt like you owed him an explanation. You looked back at your clock and sighed once you saw that you had already missed the beginning half of school, you thought screw it, you were taking a mental health day.
“ Is it senior skip day or something?” You looked up to see your dad standing in your doorway with his arms crossed over his chest in a scolding manner but once he saw your dazed expression, he dropped the act,” Y/N? Is everything okay?”
You could feel your throat tighten as you shook your head, refusing to cry again.
“ Nightmare,” You swallowed to stop yourself from letting anymore sobs from coming out of your mouth as Tony sat next to you and put his hand on your shoulder.
“ I know kid, I know,” Tony brought you closer to him as you hugged him tightly.
You had told Tony about your nightmares but he was already well aware on what happened with your parents. You were still pretty young when your parents had passed and you’ve lived most of your life with Tony as a parent but that didn’t mean you weren’t traumatized over what happened years ago.
Tony had not only given you a good home and had locked down your future, but he was always there to listen and offer help, whether it was from himself or health experts.
“ It was Peter this time,” You said softly as you felt your dad hug you even tighter,” I don’t know why but he was in the nightmare and he-he tried to hurt me...I feel so guilty, I don’t know why he was there but my brain just made him you know?”
“ That’s not something you can control Y/N, remember what I said, your brain just picks up on different people-unless he did something. Did he do something to you? Cause I swear-”
“ No, no Dad it was the opposite,” You sighed as you pulled away and bit the inside of your cheek,” I know you told me not to hang out with Peter but...we’ve been getting closer and I think I...I don’t know. All I know was that when he comforted me after my nightmare, I felt the safest I’ve been in a long time….Things are different now. I don’t know what I could say to convince you but please don’t get mad.”
You looked down at your bedsheets to avoid his gaze and you weren’t sure if he was burning a stern glare at the back of your head or not.
“ I’m not mad about Peter, I already knew you were seeing him behind my back anyway and I should’ve known you two would’ve pulled some Romeo and Juliet bullcrap. Anyway- You’re strong enough to look after yourself, hell stronger than some of these people living here and if I may speak candidly, I know you could kick his ass if he ever crossed a line,” Your dad said as you let out a small chuckle,” I want you to be safe and happy. I would prefer you feel that way without a boy in the mix but I won’t yuck your yum.”
You wrinkled your nose but you couldn’t help but smirk,” Do you think I’m strong enough to become an Avenger?”
“ You already are,” Your dad smiled as you inhaled deeply,” but before we get too mushy, I did actually want to talk to you about the other day, you know, about Peter’s health.”
You sat up straighter in your seat as you nodded attentively at him before he continued.
“ It’s really important that you keep this between you, me and Banner, okay? I’m gonna use some big words so keep up,” You nodded again as you felt your heart beat rapidly against your chest,” you already know this but the lovedust activates a huge amount of serotonin in the body and sometimes that can lead to some major health problems. Well, with every day that passes, he runs the risk of having a ventricular tachycardia and that’s what explained how he collapsed the other day-”
“ Hold on, he collapsed? And did you say a ventricular tachycardia? Like a heartattack?” You asked as you felt your own heart stop for a moment as your dad gave you a confused expression,” So you’re telling me the lovedust could kill him? When did this happen?”
Your dad inhaled sharply as he swallowed hard,” Yesterday afternoon. We were done running tests and Banner noticed a car pull up and I said it was your friend John-”
“Josh.”
“ Yeah sure. Then we heard a loud thud and Peter just dropped. He just fainted but still, it’s a sign that things are getting worse,” Your dad said as you felt your heart completely shatter.
You felt like it was all of your fault. Even though Peter just fainted, he could’ve hit his head and died right there and you couldn’t stop yourself from filling your head with more terrible thoughts.
“ Oh my god, I never thought things would get this bad,” You said as you rested your forehead in the palm of your hands, trying to keep a consistent stream of thoughts but each idea made you think of Peter getting hurt,” and there’s still not a cure? What have you guys even figured out so far-it’s been almost a week!”
You knew your dad was trying his best but all you wanted was for Peter to get better and it didn’t help that time was against everyone. Peter could suffer a heartattack at any time of day and it didn’t make you feel better than nothing was being solved.
“ Well we have a pretty strong theory about what caused the lovedust if you’re up for hearing it,” Your dad suggested as you hesitantly nodded.
“ Our main theory is that the lovedust is effective when the patient- Peter- makes contact with the variable-you- and since you were the first person he saw, it activated his serotonin output. So it could’ve been anyone and Peter would’ve had the same reaction,” Tony said and it was so silent for a minute that you could hear a pin drop,” why is your face pale?”
You didn’t know how much you didn’t want to hear that theory until this very moment. You weren’t even sure why you could feel your throat close up again but this news made you sink back onto your bed.
Peter really didn’t mean anything he was saying. After all those late night talks about how in love with you he was, those were all just side effects. Those were never his thoughts. He never really loved you.
“ Oh...that’s good I guess,” You said quietly as Tony’s pager buzzed. You could tell Tony wanted to stay and talk to you but when he looked down at the notification, it seemed pretty urgent,” you can go, I’m just gonna stay here for a little bit.”
“ We’ll talk later, okay kiddo?” Tony patted your knee and walked past your bed, closing your bedroom door behind him.
You stared up at your bedroom ceiling as you thought about what your dad said. Peter’s condition was getting worst but now, at least they figured out something that could help them along the way. If they could figure out the properties of the lovedust than that means they could reverse it and find a cure.
What if you didn’t want them to find a cure?
You almost talked yourself out of your thought and called yourself a selfish idiot in the process, the goal was for them to help Peter. This could help Peter, you reminded yourself as you got up from your bed to get dressed.
You weren’t sure where you wanted to go but you thought that your mental health day could carry on to the outside world.
Mad....why were you mad?
You had no reason to be so upset and you kept reminding yourself as the elevator went down to the garage. You aggressively pressed the button to unlock your car and once you sat down in the driver’s seat, you started your car and backed out of the garage.
It was pouring outside and while you hated driving in the rain, you just had to leave to clear your head.
Why were you upset?
Maybe because for once in your life, you felt special.
You stopped on the brakes and you could feel your heart sink into your chest as the rain hit against your windshield.
You shook your head slowly before you slapped your hands against your steering wheel hard.
Was it awful that you loved the attention you were getting and maybe, just maybe, you were starting to see Peter differently?
You slammed your firsts against the wheel again and again as you let out a frustrated grunt through your gritted teeth.
You were mad that Peter could die. You were mad that there wasn’t a cure. You were mad that the lovedust had ruined your life. You were content without Peter meddling in your life but now that he had left such an impression, all you wanted to do was make sure he stayed as true to himself as he was now.
You couldn’t expect that from him. You couldn’t expect that once he was cured, he would act back to his regular douchebag self but anything was possible, he didn’t owe you anything.
You taunted yourself as you tried to snap out of whatever this hellish tantrum you were throwing.
Why would you be upset over a guy who had fake feelings for you all this time?
It wasn’t his fault and it wasn’t your fault either.
Anyone. It could have been anyone. It could’ve been a sockpuppet and Peter would’ve probably tried marrying the damn thing.
You snapped your head over to the passenger side of the door once you heard a hard tap come from the window. Once you saw it was Peter, you turned to face the front and unlocked the door without looking back at him.
He opened the door and sat down beside you in the passenger seat without saying anything. He was soaking wet from head to toe and while you were annoyed he was getting the inside of your car wet, you had more important things to focus on.
It was too quiet for your liking but there wasn’t anything you wanted to say to him. Frankly, you weren’t sure why you even let him in.
“ How did you sleep?” Peter asked quietly as he tested the waters.
It was clear that you were in some type of mood but Peter never knew how to approach situations like this, especially since he didn’t know why you were so upset.
“ I slept fine, you?”
“ Good I guess,” Peter shrugged as he shifted awkwardly in his seat,” are you okay? Are you upset about what happened last night-”
“ No,” You said truthfully as you leaned your head back against the headrest,” I mean, yes, I’m okay but no I’m not upset about last night.”
“ Well something is clearly bothering you and I just want to help. You know you can tell me anything, I mean it Y/N, we’re friends now. We shouldn’t be hiding things from each other,” Peter said as you let out a dry laugh.
You knew you couldn’t reveal everything to Peter about what your dad had told you but it didn’t stop you from feeling angry.
“ Okay, you want to be honest, lets be honest. When were you going to tell me that you collapsed at the lab?” You asked as you turned your whole body to face him,” my dad told me this morning.”
Peter inhaled deeply but looked you straight in the eye,” I was going to tell you... eventually. It’s not like I had time to really sit down with you, I know you’re going through a lot right now and I didn’t want to stress you out. Besides, I feel fine now, it’s not a big deal.”
It was a big deal, he could die. That’s what you wanted to tell him. His life was at stake and yet you were keeping this big secret from him. It was hypocritical and wrong and if anyone else had told you, you would’ve revealed to Peter about his worsening condition.
But it was your dad who told you to keep things a secret for now and you just had to trust him for both of your sakes.
You looked at him for a moment as you studied his face while he did the same to you. It was as if you both had so much on your mind yet no one wanted to be the first one to detonate the bomb.
“ I’m just so tired Peter. I’m tired of having conflicted feelings on whether or not this lovedust has been creating more problems than solving them… Whatever this is between us, I like it a lot but I hate feeling so pathetic to the point where I actually enjoy the feeling of having a guy give me attention only because of some space shit,” You turned your attention back to the steering wheel,” How do we carry on with our lives once you’re cured? What’s stopping you from being a complete asshole to me like before?”
“ I told you, nothing has to change. No matter what happens, we’ll always be in each other’s lives as friends or something more. I would never treat you the way I did in the past, I swear on my life.”
Peter could feel the energy in the car shift right as he finished speaking but there was nothing he could do to change the course of the conversation. The path had already been set and now, he just had to strap in and hope he could hang on.
“ How am I supposed to believe that? How do I know anything you’re saying is true? Everything this lovedust has been built on is a lie, you don’t love me Peter. It’s a fucking chemical reaction that is messing with your body,” You snapped loudly but Peter hardly flinched,” your mind and body has been corrupted by a parasite. You say you love me but if you take the lovedust away, you don’t. It’s that simple.”
“ Just because it’s a chemical reaction doesn’t mean that the way I’m feeling is a lie. I spend so many nights thinking about you and how happy you make me so for you to say that I don’t actually love you-”
“ Are you listening to yourself? You love me because of the dust, why is that so hard for you to understand? Love is supposed to be natural, this is not natural! If the way you’re feeling isn’t a lie, look me in the eye right now and tell me, did you love me before the lovedust?” You asked as you turned back to face him,” tell me the honest truth, did you love me?”
Peter felt like his body was burning up in the worst possible way and his throat felt dry as he thought carefully. It was so hard for him to see how terrible he was in the past because of the lovedust, all he could think when he saw you was just utter love.
You were visibly hurt, even if you were shouting at him he could read you like a book and there was something that he knew was there but he just couldn’t figure out what it was. It felt like some sort of test that Peter had to decipher; he didn’t have all of the pieces of the puzzle so how was he supposed to get the full picture?
“ I don’t...no. No I didn’t,” Peter said softly as you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding,” but that doesn’t mean I didn’t care about you.”
There it was, the million-dollar answer to the million-dollar question. Of course he didn’t love you, he had tormented you for years. Your dad’s “theory” was right, the lovedust didn’t matter if he had loved you beforehand. It could’ve been anyone.
So even if you might’ve known all along, why did it hurt and why were you upset?
“ Stop lying to me. You never cared about me, you loved humiliating me,” You said in a shaky breath,” you loved seeing me cry and you loved it when I got mad. I could see it all across your face, you loved making me absolutely miserable. So you can say you love me all you want now, but I know the truth. You don’t understand, this lovedust is ruining me, Peter. Do you know how painful it is to be tormented for years and all of a sudden, the same person is now in love with you just like that?”
“ Ruining you? You didn’t touch the damn thing! And you want to talk about pain-Do you know how painful it is to love you?” Peter shouted as he felt his voice crack,” If I’m not near you, I feel like I’m going to die but when I’m around you, my chest feels like it’s going to burst open and it’s painful. I’m in pain right when I wake up in the morning to right before I go to sleep everyday because the mere thought of you drives me insane-”
“ I didn’t ask for you to love me-”
“ I didn’t ask to love you either!” Peter shouted back louder, this time to make sure you would stop interrupting him,” My body feels weak all the time, I’m fucking falling apart because I love you so much. So don’t tell me that I’m lying about loving you because that’s all I feel when I look at you. Even when I’m pissed off I still love you but if you think for one second I’m going to sit here and let you attack me for my past that I have already apologized for, then I don’t want to hear it.”
Peter gave you one last look before getting out of your car and straight into the rain. Peter slammed the car door behind him so hard to where the door completely fell off the hinges but Peter was so angry that he kept walking away.
“ You fucking...ugh!” You screamed as you got out of your car and followed behind him.
You were completely livid, you both were being unfair but just because he was going through a different type of pain than you didn’t mean yours hurt any less.
You shouted after Peter but the rain was so loud to the point where you considered that maybe he just couldn’t hear you. You sped up your pace to the point where you almost slipped against the concrete.
“ You don’t get to tell me that I can’t be mad at the past Peter when it’s only been a week since you got infected!” You yelled as you grabbed Peter’s arm to stop him from walking away from you,” Just because you apologized doesn’t mean I can let it go so easily. For years, you made me feel like I would be alone for the rest of my life because no one would ever love me!”
Peter whipped his head back around to face you as you kept a strong grip around his wrist,“ And I’m telling you now that I love you and I was a fucking idiot for hurting you. Jesus Y/N I am sorry but we’ve had this conversation before so why are you mad at me?”
All you could focus on were his eyes, which were darting back and fourth across your face as if he was pleading with you. You had pushed him across the line so many times but now, Peter was pushing back because he just needed a clear answer.
You both were tired of yelling and fighting and in this moment, Peter was so close to tearing down the walls you had set up for years to keep yourself safe against him. It was eating away at you because deep down, you knew why you were mad at him, you just didn’t know if you could bring yourself to let it slip out of your mouth.
The rain sounded muffled and all you could think about was how cold you were feeling. You were somewhat forcing yourself to focus on anything other than Peter but you were trapped in his desperate gaze.
You felt your breath hitch as you could feel yourself getting choked up,” I’m mad...I’m mad because the way you feel about me right now, it’s fleeting... it’s temporary. One day when you’re cured, you’re going to stop loving me and that terrifies me.”
Peter squeezed your hand and you didn’t even realize that while you were talking, the grip you had around his wrist had moved to interlock your fingers with his. You could feel your chest tighten as you moved your eyes down to your hands and you slowly moved your gaze to meet Peter’s.
“ Why does it terrify you?” Peter asked softly and now it was your turn to plead with him using your eyes as if you were saying please don’t make me say it.
Maybe a part of Peter knew that you wouldn’t admit that maybe, there was something developing between the two of you that you just couldn’t bring yourself to admit. But Peter knew you well and even as he read you like a book, he wanted to hear it for himself.
“ I’m terrified because…” You almost said it as a whisper and even Peter was having a hard time hearing you because his heart was beating so loudly,” because I…”
You swallowed hard as you looked down at his lips and even if it was just for a second, Peter caught you staring. Peter felt his knees weaken and he was seconds away from just pulling you into his arms but it was your move.
Peter had given you all the power and while a part of him felt relieved, it didn’t stop him from reaching up and tucking a strand of wet hair behind your ear. This was the moment he had been waiting for.
He had given you all of the puzzle pieces you needed except he saved the last one just for you. He wanted you to put the last piece in so that way you two could step back together and admire all of the hard work you put into it.
You would’ve. You were going to let him know everything and unravel in his arms because finally, you could let go.
You wanted nothing more than to pick up that stupid puzzle piece and slam it into the puzzle to show him you were serious. You were going to let your walls crumble down and for once, you were going to be fearless.
But you just couldn’t bring yourself to do it.
“ I can’t,” You said softly as you let go of Peter’s hand and practically rushed back towards the building, leaving Peter alone in the rain.
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#peter parker#peter parker x reader#peter parker x stark reader#peter parker x stark!reader#peter parker headcanon#peter parker hc#peter parker imagine#peter parker smut#tom holland#tom holland x reader#tom holland headcanon#tom holland hc#tom holland imagine#tom holland smut#spiderman#spiderman x reader#spiderman headcanon#spiderman hc#spiderman imagine#spiderman smut#marvel#marvel x reader#marvel headcanon#marvel hc#marvel imagine#marvel smut#avengers#avengers x reader#avengers imagine#avengers headcanon
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Red Flags in Class Syllabi
Hello, here I am with another post full of advice for university and like most of my posts, it comes from personal experience. A little backstory on this: my first year of university, there was this theatre class I was in where everyone had already become friends or knew each other from high school drama festivals. We always had to do group work where we chose our own groups and I was always alone and did everything in my power to pretend like I wasn’t without the prof noticing. I was miserable and had had multiple panic attacks during or because of that class. However, I was a first year former gifted student who didn’t want to switch classes. I hit a breaking point one night when I was sobbing on the phone to my mom and she made me get up and drop the class. At that point, it was too late to register for one in its place and I am in my third year now, taking 6 courses online during a global pandemic to make up the credits so I can graduate on time. Ever since that experience, if I’ve had any major doubts about a class, I drop it without hesitation as soon as possible so I still have time to register for a new class. In fact, this semester alone, I dropped three classes and switched to new ones. Here are some red flags in course syllabi/things profs say during the first class
1. Group projects. We are in university, everyone, we are paying thousands of dollars for this and we should not be paying that much money for our grades to depend on others. Of course, and this applies to all of the red flags on the list, if the class in necessary for your degree (has happened to me a few times) sometimes you have to suck it up. Still, if you can drop the class without it messing up your degree, I would recommend it, especially right now when most people are fully online because group projects based completely online are even more hellish.
2. If a professor makes a point about how they don’t or hardly ever give As. This one is obvious. These profs like to make shit difficult for no reason and think they’re waaay more important than they really are. Most “I don’t give As” profs that I’ve had have been pretentious assholes.
3. Similarly, if a professor is bragging about how hard their class is/saying that you will likely fail. They are bragging about how bad they are at their job. They are there to teach you and if they advertise that all these people have failed their class, they aren’t trying hard enough. Also usually pretentious as fuck too.
4. If you miss more than two classes, you will fail the class. I’m not talking about profs having attendance policies, that is fine. What I’m referring to is the ones who take it to the extreme. I’ve seen syllabi where profs will fail you, despite all your other hard work, if you miss more than two classes. Like, it’s an automatic fail. It’s not worth the stress.
5. Any class where participation is worth more than 20% (and that’s pushing it). That shit is not fair to the shy students, students with social anxiety, and students who don’t like public speaking. Your work should be the basis for most of your grade, not whatever bullshit answer to class questions you come up with. I’m not a big fan of participation grades in general but to make them worth that much is not ideal (unless you’re not shy and extroverted and don’t have social anxiety, if so, I’m definitely jealous).
6. Workload. I’m not talking about amount of assignments (though if there are a whole lot, you might want to switch, you know what you can handle), I’m talking about readings every week. I dropped a class this semester because the prof said that every week we would have 60+ pages of readings a week which, according to him, wasn’t a lot. These readings for for a polisci class so it was all dense academic articles and government documents (snore) and I didn’t need the class for my degree. When you have a full class load with readings and actual assignments for all of those classes, a class assigning that many pages a week is a red flag especially when the prof doesn’t think it’s a lot. They will pile on the work.
7. Not listing all assignments in the syllabus. This is my pet peeve and I’m in two classes where we don’t know when assignments are due or what they are. This is a red flag as you need to be able to plan assignments and write dates down, especially in university. Surprise assignments and tests are the worst and set students up to fail.
8. Any time a prof/syllabus says “this class will change your life” or some variation of that. These professors are the most obnoxious people and none of the classes I’ve taken that did change my life ever told me so over and over again.
9. Any class with busywork as homework. By busywork, I mean homework on the online part of the textbook, exercises from the textbook, stuff like that. This is high school level stuff and you don’t learn anything from it. Also because they use the online quizzes that come with the textbook, that means you have to buy a brand new textbook to get that code so there will be no money saving here. I once had to spend $200 on a LOOSE LEAF textbook (they only offered it in that format) just to use the online quizzes. The whole class was like getting in a time machine and going back to high school.
10. If your first class is full of students and your second class has significantly less, that is a warning sign that they might have picked up on something you didn’t. Take another look at that syllabus and pay close attention to the prof that class and make your decision after that.
11. Check Rate My Professor!!! I cannot stress this enough. Some of the negative reviews are obviously people just mad they got a bad grade, but when students who got high marks are complaining, there is a problem. Take them with a grain of salt until you actually go to the first class, but make sure to read them before class so you know what to look out for. Also, in general, make sure to add your own ratings for profs while you’re there, both positive and negative because it really helps. I go to a really small school so our RMP reviews are limited so I do my best to post about each of my professors to add more.
12. Know yourself. If you’re first year, this might be more challenging, but you know how you learn best. If all of the assessment methods in a class are things you know you struggle with (multiple choice tests, short answer tests, exams worth 60% of your grade, long papers, research papers, etc.), use your head and make the right decision for you. If you suck at multiple choice tests and force yourself to take a class where that is all you do, it will be hell. If you choose classes based on assessment method, it will help your GPA, I promise you. I get better at selecting courses every year because I learn myself and what I’m best at and I have raised my GPA (not a whole lot, but usually by a decimal point) every semester because I am constantly learning what is best for me.
#professor red flags#drop the class#dropping classes#syllabus red flags#syllabus#university#uni#university tips#uni tips#college tips#study tips#studying#studyblr#college struggles#college hacks#uni hacks#university hacks
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How I played damage control to an anti in a small anime fandom and may have led to her ultimate downfall
I know I had a really nice write up of this at one point but oh well. I’ll spill more of the tea in this one because honestly the tea was so hot.
There are a few things that I have to give context to first. Gaia online was like THE mega forum of the 2000s, you made a little avatar and through posting and doing other activities on the forum you made money to buy clothes for your avatar. There were forums for everything but the fannish portions were really what drew in most of the people. The anime I was into was Beyblade. It was a shonen anime about fighting with tops that were possessed by the spirits of magical creatures. The story was honestly pretty average but the characters were fantastic and the fandom is to this day still one of my favourites. The series had a primarily male cast and didn’t even have a female lead until the second season. This led to the fanfic for the English fandom being about 70% canon/OC, 10 % canon m/f, and 20% slash. The most popular character in the English fandom was by far Kai Hiwatari, the loner badboy of the team.
Also before we get started I would like to add that one of my best friends was neck deep in this and the two of us were more or less fandom married. This is the same friend that I fake dated, had feelings for, and she nearly got me into kpop in 2011 so like if you haven’t read that story please read it too because it will give you a good idea of how stupid I am and how much of a fanfic I have truly lived.
To set the stage I was 16, soon to be 17 when I joined the fandom and it was 2004. In September of that year I wrote a humour longfic that became an absolute smash hit and I found myself somehow fandom famous. It was around this time that I joined Gaia online. I made my little avatar and immediately went looking for the beyblade thread so that I could make new friends. I found the main thread, made my little introduction and at the end of it mentioned that I was a slash writer but I supported all ships. This is where I met C. She had declared herself the authority on Beyblade in these parts and I had just committed the crime of mentioning slash which was very obviously not canon and we did not discuss in this thread because we only discussed canon things. I was like well that’s a bit severe but like sure whatever I just want to hang out and have fun.
Oh boy did I have no idea what I was in for.
C was a year older than me and unfortunately that made her older than the majority of the fans at the time. Her favourite character was Kai, and she was not shy about talking about this fact. She stanned Kai above all other characters, and often at their expense. She was also a fanfic writer of a popular canon/OC series. Actually, she was so full of herself that she didn’t even call herself a fanfic writer, no her stories were in fact novels and were apparently very good. I never read them. But more on that later.
Eventually the slash fans got tired of her being rude to us in the general thread so we made a Beyblade slash thread. There was a core of like 8 or so of us and we honestly had sooo much fun. When C would be too unbearable in the main thread the people from there used to come over to our thread and we’d chat with them about non slash stuff because we were honestly all multishippers and just wanted to have fun. We’d get comments like “wow, I’ve had more pleasant canon het ship discussions in the slash thread than the regular thread”. We never worried about C coming over and getting upset about comments like this because she refused to be associated with anything related with slash lmao.
I tried my best to keep the peace between C, myself, and the rest of the fandom because ultimately I hate being in fandom drama. I just want everyone to have a good time. I’m a people pleaser. Unfortunately my newfound fame put me in the awkward position of being the most fandom popular person in our small community aside from C. Virtually every fan that read fanfics that came into our thread knew one of us or the other by reputation and C HATED this. Especially because people would come in to the thread, recognise me and go “oh my goodness I love your fanfics!” and I’d be super sweet with them and it’d lead into “I can’t believe how nice you are, I love you” which would lead to us crying at each other. This was not the kind of fan interaction that C got, no her fans were more kind that were there to praise her and worship her like a deity that had blessed them with some gift. Rarely did they tell her how kind she was.
Back in the mid 2000s there were really commonly those commercials (usually by Christian organisations) asking people to sponsor say children in Africa or to help build schools or provide drinking water. You all probably know the ones; know the language that they used in those commercials. My fandom wife, who I suppose I shall call wifey because yes we were THAT couple back then, once said that C described her fics like those people described donating money to save the lives of Children in Africa. So we used to joke that her fics were so good they’d save lives in Africa. Looking back at it all, she almost had a very fundamentalist Christian approach to bringing people into her fanfics. She of course tried to get all the slash people into reading it. None of us read canon/oc fic mostly due to our poor treatment at the hands of their fans and creators. Getting fed up I one day told her that if she would read any one of my fanfics that I would read the entirety of her novels. Yes, I was willing to commit to read a couple 100k of canon/oc fanfic that I’d never touch normally if she would even read one of my 1k 1 shots. Heck, I had a fic even that shipped 2 minor characters so she didn’t even have to sully herself reading about one of the main characters. It was honestly a good deal in her favour. I kept this up until the day we all left the fandom. Sometimes I do wonder if her fics were even ¼ as good as she claimed, but I will never know because she refused to read my fics.
She wasn’t all bad and a tyrant all the time. As long as people kept the conversations on track and didn’t come in to the thread saying things like “KAI IS SO HOT ND T3H BEST N I AM GUN 2 MARRY HIM” she stayed mostly civil. It was always hilarious watching InuYahsa or Naruto fans try to come in and bad mouth Beyblade because they’d unleash the dragon and C was great at chasing off undesirables in the thread.
The real apex of goings on though on Gaia was the guild drama. So guilds were like exclusive themed mini forums within Gaia. Anyone could buy one and run it however they want, as long as it still adhered to Gaia’s ToS. C of course was the owner of the only Beyblade guild. The fandom wasn’t really big enough to support 2 guilds so we just kind of let it go. Technically she allowed people to post slash fanfics but like everything had to be explicitly tagged and there was absolutely no slash RP. Wifey and I controlled a handful of minor characters together in the forum RP and definitely used to try to push the boundaries a little bit. Some ambiguous flirting here, a stray comment there. It was such a fragile balance though because C was heavy on the ban button. The active portion of the guild was just people that were in the cult of C and worshipped her writing.
Understandably the other slash fans and myself were getting disheartened by this. So we pooled our funds together and decided that we’d open a second guild that though it was run by slash fans we would welcome anyone into our ranks. We just wanted to have a fun place for everyone to hang out, and to hopefully run a few events out of. In hindsight, we should have seen what would happen. When we opened the guild, with me as the guild leader, it was like somebody blew up the whole dam protecting the delicate ecosystem we had cultivated. Every single person in the Gaia fandom that was not a zealous follower of C applied to be in our guild and left her guild. We of course figured that we’d attract some of the gen population but we did not expect to accidentally poach all of it. All of the moderators were getting messages from people thanking us for giving them a place where they could say whatever they wanted without fear of getting their faces ripped off or banned.
C lost her shit. She was so mad that we went behind her back to ruin her guild. We literally had to show her posts in the very public slash thread that we had been planning this in public and that it was not to ruin her life. We just wanted a place where we could freely post slash. The two of us had some spicy comments back and forth and then she dropped an absolute bombshell on me. Since Gaia’s mail system is terrible I unfortunately no longer have exactly what she said but it was something along the lines of “Ok, you win. I’m going to close my guild.”. Us slash fans had never been doing this to win anything. We had never been competing. We just wanted a safe space to be ourselves.
C never joined our guild. The fandom slowly faded out within the next year anyway. We weren’t getting new content so naturally people just drifted into other fandoms. C kept up with the main Beyblade thread for a lot longer than most of us but eventually that eventually faded into obscurity too.
I learned a lot about fandom bullies from those days. But honestly the thing that stuck with me the most out of everything was that if you provide a positive safe space for people they will flock to it. It may seem like there are so many hostile people out there, but there really aren't. They're the minority but they just make sure that their voice is the loudest. The best way is to ignore them and just do your own thing. The bullies just want attention and if you don’t give it to them and prove to them that their opinion doesn’t matter to you then they’ll move in and find something else to yell at.
#malicious musings#stacey's adventures in fandom drama#lol#honestly it was such a fucking wild time#if i think of any other specific instances of drama i'll add them#god i wish i had screenshots of some of what went on#but sadly going through archived gaia posts is easier said than done
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this is a genuine, curious question! what's appealing 2 u about jackunzel :^] ??
Sure, I can talk about why I ship Jackunzel!!!
@gryffindorkxdraws has some posts about why she likes Jackunzel here, here, and here, so those are a pretty good rundown of reasons to supplement mine. But I’ll make a list of my own!
Why Jackunzel Owns My Entire Soul: An Essay in Disorganized Bullet Points
~I dig the sun/moon symbolism! Like Jack was chosen by the moon and Rapunzel has the powers of the sun. It’s such a nice contrast, and it also lends itself really well to star-crossed lover-type fantasy/fairy tale AUs (which I am ALWAYS a sucker for!)
~From what little we know about Jack’s preference in girls (i.e. the slight crush he seemed to have on Tooth), Rapunzel seems like EXACTLY his type--bubbly, energetic, optimistic girls with a bit of a maternal streak. I think even the RotG director confirmed Punz is the kind of girl Jack would like!
~Jack also absolutely seems like Punzel’s type--if Flynn/Eugene is anything to go by, she’s kind of into sarcastic troublemakers with a hidden soft side XD And she also seems to like guys who are good with kids, if Eugene reading “The Adventures of Flynnigan Rider” to the younger kids at the orphanage is anything to go by!
~They both seem to be naturally pretty social people who suffered a lot from being isolated for a really long time--Jack had it worse, obviously (300 years--OUCH), but it was rough on Punz as well, growing up for 18 years with no one for company but Mother Gothel and Pascal. Jack, spending all that time with no one able to see him and only the guardians (who weren’t even really his friends from much of that time) for company, would understand that pain a lot. I feel like they’d be able to connect on a really deep and intimate level about the pain they felt at being isolated for so long, and this would give them a really strong bond that I can easily see turning into something romantic.
~They’re both just such genuinely lively and fun-loving people, and I can imagine them having a ton of fun together and just genuinely really enjoying spending time together. Like imagine the snowball fights!!! The ice-skating!!! The sledding!!! Chasing each other through the forest!!! Jack grabbing onto Punz and her wrapping her hair around a tree and swinging them around Tarzan-style!!! Like literally the entire scene where Punzel leaves her tower for the first time and is goofing off and doing Silly Shit for like an hour straight??? Like man...if Jack was there, they’d have the TIME OF THEIR LIVES together. Idk I just really love couples who I think would have a lot of fun together, it’s so pure <3
~They’re both so loving!!! Like Rapunzel goes out of her way to be supportive to an entire tavernful of terrifying “ruffians and thugs” because they have dreams, and she’s so sweet to Flynn/Eugene no matter how many times he snarks at her and tries to alienate her!!! And Jack loves loves LOVES entertaining kids, and it genuinely makes him so happy to give them snow days :3 I just feel like they’d shower each other with love, and it’s honestly no less than they both deserve!!!
~Rapunzel especially is such an affectionate person, and I can see her doing just absolutely everything in her power to make Jack feel as seen and as loved as possible after 300 years of being alone. And god, does he NEED it, too. Like no way is this boy NOT touch-starved, and with some MAJOR self-esteem issues (although he’s good at hiding them). Rapunzel would do absolutely everything in her power to build him up and make him feel wanted and validated--and since it’s in her nature to do so, it would never feel like a burden or an effort for her. And she’d love him so much that hyping him up just comes naturally! She’s just got the kind of nurturing personality that someone as affection-starved as Jack really needs, and I think she could help him feel safe, comfortable, and loved in a way a lot of people couldn’t.
~For all the fun they’d have together, I also feel like Jack needs someone to ground him a bit and provide the Brain Cell to perhaps reign in that Unchecked Chaotic Energy of his sometimes XD Rapunzel certainly has a smart and rational side--I mean, she charted STARS as a teenager!!! She figured out how to get this stranger she captured to take her into the kingdom to see the lanterns!!! Girl can be spontaneous and goofy, sure, but she’s got smarts and kind of a mature streak that I think mesh with Jack really well. He’d never feel like she was a wet blanket stifling his fun, but she’d also have a sense of when to transition away from goofing off and focus on responsibilities (princess and guardian responsibilities in this case, I suppose?)
~On the flipside, I don’t see Rapunzel as being someone annoyed or irritated by Jack’s antics. She might like...gently scold him if he takes a prank too far, but she never finds his shenanigans to be grating and tiresome the way other people might. Rather, I think she’d be endlessly entertained by him. Like in his memory reel when he’s dicking around pretending to be a deer, she’d get a kick out of that! Jack would always be trying to make her laugh and make her smile, and Punz would love that so much about him!
~They’re both searching for a deeper meaning and a deeper sense of purpose in their lives. Rapunzel entertains herself with hobbies, but doesn’t feel like her life has really “begun” and is desperate to find out if her hunch is right and the floating lights really ARE meant for her. Jack has no idea why he was chosen by the moon or what he’s meant to do, and he’s determined to find out so he can finally have a sense of purpose. Rapunzel clearly wants a sense of purpose too, since she wants to do more with her life than pass the time with hobbies. I can definitely see them bonding over this!
~They’re both just so adventurous, and love to explore! Rapunzel is curious, and loves to read and learn, and she wants more than anything else to see the world and all it has to offer. Jack loves adventuring and flying around the globe spreading winter and fun, and he could show Punz everything she ever wanted to see. A perfect match, honestly!
~Aesthetically I LOVE the similarities!!! Like they both like to go barefoot, kinda showing their free-spirited natures. And I love how they’re both naturally brunette, but had their hair turned a different color by magic. It’s a little thing, but I think it’s a really neat parallel and it helps cement me thinking they really ARE perfect for each other in every little way! Haha XD AND they both have small green companions, and as of Ralph Breaks The Internet, they’re hoodie buddies as well!!! Not that surface-level parallels like that are actually that significant BUT I just think they’re neat XD
~While I am fond of Flynnzel/Eugenzel (still my favorite canon Disney couple!), finding out their age gap is around 8 years admittedly made me a bit uncomfy and just pushed me further into loving Jackunzel as an alternative option. I still really love Eugene as a character and adore his and Punzel’s dynamic, but these days I prefer their relationship as more of a big bro/little sis type thing. Jack I think is the best match for Rapunzel romantically, and Eugene I prefer with Elsa--or poooossibly Tooth, Astrid, or Zarina, if I read a fic that sells the pairing well enough!
~On a related note, I was into Jack x Tooth the first time I watched RotG, but after discovering Jackunzel, there was no going back--I was hooked! Rewatching the movie, Tooth strikes me more as a mom figure/”fun aunt” for Jack, and I actually prefer her with Bunnymund (I am WEAK for “the grumpy one is soft for the sunshine one” lmao)
Well, I think that just about covers it!!! I’ll add more reasons if I think of them! Thank you for the ask, and I’m always happy to answer more ship asks about CGI crossover pairings :3
Also @ the anon who asked for Jackunzel headcanons--fear not, I shall provide them!!! I just wanna make a complete list and accumulate all the ones from my various fics so it’s gonna take a while XD
#jackunzel#jack x rapunzel#rapunzel x jack#jackxrapunzel#rapunzelxjack#jack frost#rapunzel#rotbtd#rise of the brave tangled dragons#the big four#rise of the guardians#tangled#crossover#my askbox
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Fanfic Writer Asks
I was tagged by @asarcasticwitch - thank you so much!
1) How many works do you have on AO3?
737, which is an ugly number :(
2) What’s your total AO3 word count?
1,890,054 words, which ... AH I might actually get to 2mil by the end of the year!
3) How many fandoms have you written for, and what are they?
thank you, ao3 dashboard for this handy list:
Teen Wolf (TV) (377)
X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies) (187)
Marvel Cinematic Universe (93)
Glee (29)
Young Justice (Cartoon) (11)
Kingsman (Movies) (9)
Original Work (9)
The Avengers (Marvel Movies) (8)
Criminal Minds (US TV) (7)
Thor (Movies) (6)
Deadpool (Movieverse) (5)
Weird City (TV) (5)
X-Men (Original Timeline Movies) (4)
Yu-Gi-Oh! Duel Monsters (Anime & Manga) (4)
Ragnarok (TV 2020) (4)
Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies) (3)
Teen Wolf (TV) RPF (3)
Iron Man (Movies) (3)
The House in the Cerulean Sea - T. J. Klune (2)
Venom (Marvel Movies) (1)
Stranger Things (TV 2016) (1)
Captain America (Movies) (1)
Fate: The Winx Saga (TV) (1)
Power Rangers Ninja Storm (1)
X-Men - All Media Types (1)
Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan (1)
Riverdale (TV 2017) (1)
X-Men Evolution (1)
Push (2009) (1)
4) What are your top 5 fics by kudos?
With You, I Belong
Mates and Marriage Proposals
The Perceptions of You and I
(baby) maybe that matters more
Breathing You In
5) What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?
ughh so, fair warning, I have a lot of works. I definitely do not remember all of them, however I do have four works tagged as Unhappy Ending and then another nine works tagged Ambiguous/Open Ending, which is way more than I’d thought I had!
however, there is one fic that stands out in mind when I think about which of my works has the angstiest ending! Heed the tags :)
And Now?
Teen And Up Audiences | Major Character Death | M/M | Teen Wolf (TV) | Chris Argent/Peter Hale/Stiles Stilinski | Chris Argent, Peter Hale, Stiles Stilinski | Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Canonical Character Death, Peter Hale Dies, Unhappy Ending
Stiles Stilinski finds out who his soul mates are by setting one on fire.
6) What’s the fic you’ve written with the happiest ending?
ughhhhhhhh I truly do not know???
7) Do you write crossovers? If so, what is the craziest one you’ve written?
I don’t write many crossovers at all! I have some mcu/teen wolf cross overs, I have a teen wolf/glee cross over plotted (that i’ll probably never write), but my strangest is probably this teen wolf/x-men cross over!
what-ifs (don’t fuckin’ matter to no one)
Teen And Up Audiences | No Archive Warnings Apply | M/M | X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies)Teen Wolf (TV) | Logan (X-Men)/Sheriff Stilinski | Logan (X-Men), Sheriff Stilinski, Stiles Stilinski | Memory Loss, Telepathy, Mentions of War, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Child Neglect, Grief/Mourning, Telepath Stiles Stilinski, Telekinetic Stiles Stilinski, Nightmares, Cuddling & Snuggling
There’s somethin’ there. Somethin’ that has him sleeping curled up on his side with a pillow tucked to his chest, somethin’ that has him splittin’ up his food ‘fore he eats ‘cause he don’t need as much as a baseline. Has him turnin’ to tell someone shit that ain’t there. There’s just...there’s just somethin’ there that’s missin’ and it shouldn’t be missin’.
8) Do you write smut? If so, what kind?
sometimes! I don’t write a lot of smut because I actively dislike writing it, but the smut I do write is super super soft and sappy and full of emotions lol
9) Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?
I respond to almost all of my comments! comments i won’t respond to: negative comments, unsolicited criticism, comments that aren’t relevant to the fic itself, comments simply asking for more
I love love love responding to comments! I love every single comment that I get and I want to show how much I appreciate getting them, and personally I think responding to comments is the only way to do that! everyone has different comment philosophies, but for me, if someone is taking the time to comment on my fic like I so badly want them to, I think it’s important to respond to show my appreciation!
10) Have you ever received hate on a fic?
aha YEAH I DO. this past weekend I actually got a number of shitty comments and had to file two ao3 abuse reports for harrasment (: I love it
I am no stranger to hate comments. I write copious amounts of age difference fic. I write copious amounts of incest. I am not going to apologize nor am I going to feel bad for enjoying either.
11) Have you ever had a fic stolen?
ughhh I sure as heck hope not!
12) Have you ever had a fic translated?
Yes! I have a number of them :) I always always do my best to make sure it’s linked to the original fic, AND that I add a tag noting that there’s a translation!
13) Have you ever co-written a fic before?
I have made a few attempts! the only successful attempt is there's nothing i wouldn't do to make you feel my love which is a collaboration with @flightinflame, not quite a co-write!
14) What’s your all-time favorite ship?
I am unable to answer this lol I don’t have an all-time favourite. mutli-shipping forever.
15) What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?
god okay this is such a good question! imma ramble about a few so bear with me here! (i may have 700 posted works but I also have a few hundreds wips & ideas floating around in my gdrive, too)
gone & past - this is a starrish wip i’d started in 2017. I ended up deleting it from ao3 to rewrite it and never got there, but I have about 20k of content!
I built my home, inside of you - thorki human au with college jock thor and high school dancer loki. i’ve got a start and nothing else
Sheriff Stilinski Gets Some Sweet Sweet Lovin’ - massive wip where... well, the sheriff fucks his way through the entire pack. I want to write it but.
trans allison au - this is an au where allison is trans and that changes the entire season 1 canon. it features stallison, petopher, and a looooooong ass outline that will never exist beyond my wips
You Fill My Heart (With Such a Gentle Love) - this is a stetopher a/b/o au with pregnant omega stiles and alpha pair petopher falling in love. it started as a labour of love to someone I no longer have in my life. I have about 30k, a full outline, but idk. makes me sad to think about it
they slipped briskly into an intimacy from which they never recovered - this is my big x-men first class rewrite that I honestly don’t think i’ll ever finish. I have a few thousand words, a full outline, but no love lost for cherik so. doubtful
Physiotherapy (I'll Be Your Baby) - this was a fic I was SO excited about, and then it kinda flopped and stayed a wip because I didn’t have a plan or the motivation to finish it. it’s a winterspider human au with amputee bucky and science twink peter that I adore the premise of but who knows
breathing you in chapter 2 - I have a massive second chapter planned for this fic but the first did so good so fast I am way too intimidated to write more in case everyone hates it lmao
there are more arjgoirjeg there are so many more but these are the bigger ones I can think of right now!
16) What are your writing strengths?
ughhhhh I hate answering this because I have, like, seriously bad imposter syndrome around my writing BUT I do think i’m able to weave poignant backstory into narration & i write strong, distinctive narrative voices!
17) What are your writing weaknesses?
literally I can’t write settings at all. I don’t know how people vividly describe settings but I absolutely cannot do that and it’s one of the reasons I haven’t delved into original fiction. I need to write the town my characters live in?? fuck that imma just use a location we’ve seen on screen & let readers fill in the blanks lmao
I am also shit at long fic. I don’t have the mind for long and interesting plots, and I don’t have the focus to write long fic (which is why every long fic i’ve ever posted has taken me literal years to complete smh).
18) What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?
I like it! both as a reader and as a writer. as a writer, I generally only use a few words, or small sentences that can be understood by context, and I generally don’t
19) What was the first fandom you wrote for?
the last thing I wrote and posted was this one:
Languish
Teen And Up Audiences | No Archive Warnings Apply | M/M | X-Men (Original Timeline Movies) | John Allerdyce/Bobby Drake | Bobby Drake, John Allerdyce, X-Men (Team) | Not Canon Compliant, Future Fic, Established Relationship, Summer, Teasing, Fluff
It was a really, really hot Saturday, and most of the school was outback, enjoying the sun, not caring about the heat, and having the time of their life.
Everyone but Bobby, of course, who was melting away.
“I just want to remind everyone that I make ice. I am the Ice Man. I am not built for the heat and soon enough I’m going to melt away into nothing.”
20) What’s your favourite fic you’ve written?
this is another impossible question! I have a few I really enjoy, but I really don’t think I have a favourite that stands out above the rest!
i’m tagging: @4magicandmayhem @insertmeaningfulusername @midrashic @wynnefic @ikeracity @stronglyobsessed @elledelajoie @wolfnprey & anyone else who sees it and wants to do it! seriously! go ahead :)
blank questions below the read more!
1) How many works do you have on AO3?
2) What’s your total AO3 word count?
3) How many fandoms have you written for, and what are they?
4) What are your top 5 fics by kudos?
5) What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?
6) What’s the fic you’ve written with the happiest ending?
7) Do you write crossovers? If so, what is the craziest one you’ve written?
8) Do you write smut? If so, what kind?
9) Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?
10) Have you ever received hate on a fic?
11) Have you ever had a fic stolen?
12) Have you ever had a fic translated?
13) Have you ever co-written a fic before?
14) What’s your all-time favorite ship?
15) What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?
16) What are your writing strengths?
17) What are your writing weaknesses?
18) What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?
19) What was the first fandom you wrote for?
20) What’s your favourite fic you’ve written?
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Overwatch
Okay lets try this again
Genji: Alpha, one of the motivating forces for Hanzo to duel him and as a result from the "accident" His Ability to smell and produce sents is kinda damaged. He acted very alphaish while part of blackwatch to try and make up for it but nowardays some people dont even realise he is one since hes so chill and dosent act that way anymore.
Hanzo: Omega, got a blocker soon after presenting by order of his father and kept it even after leaving for the convinience of not having heats and because his time in the yakuza basically made him belive omegas are meek and weak and people only looked at them as objects. This causes drama later on. Hanzo is basically feral when joining the team, he holds himself confidently and as if he has poise most of the time but when people try to touch him or somethibg suppr9ses him he is very jumpy and has almost attacked multiple people as a result. This agitation and aggression is partiality made worse by the implant and wouldn't get much better until its out.
Angela: Beta. Ik people normally think she'd be Omega but fr that woman is pure balence. She does get mistaken for an omega allot tho. Her possition as a Beta really helps her tending to all patients so she has no complaints.
76: Omega, had a impact for the super soldier program but once the crisis was over he had it taken out, both to be a good role model for other omegas but also because he just wanted to for him mainly but also for his bf at the time (despite the fact that his eyes still often drifted to a certain other squad leader). Nowerdays he still dosent have one but age makes his heats less frequent and his senses and scent a little dulled.
Ana: Alpha. She is extremely chill for an Alpha but chill in the "I am confident I have complete control of this situation" kind of way, usually because she does. She is known for being calm in arguments with other alphas and often winning those arguments as a result, almost none has seen her in an alpha rage but the rumours are that someone has once and they said it was the most terrifying thing they'd ever seen. Ana has been mistaken for the leader of her packs in the past and despite the fact that she basically is co-leader of evey pack she's in she always makes sure that she's not overshadowing the leader especially when they're not Alpha.
Reinheart: I kiiiinda wanna make him an omega who has litterally no idea what OBA expectations are. He's just the jollyest, largest omega you will ever meet. He does not give a shit what people think of him to the point where he won't defend himself unless someone questions his honour. This leads to people like Ana and Morrison in the past hovering around him and fighting anyone who tried harassing him.
McCree: Alpha. Used to be a brash, cocky, and kinda mean alpha before Blackwatch got a hold of him and mellowed him out through giving him a stable pack with a leader (as opposed to deadlock where basically eveyone fought over being leader). He is the most unmistakably alpha person you will ever meet however he is also one of the softest, kindest and possibly the most adorable alphas you will ever know if you get close to him. He's embaressed every time he growls by accident nowerdays.
Lucio: honestly I can't see lucio as anything other than Beta or Omega so I think probably Beta? But I think none else knows either and if anyone asks he says he'd rather people not know because he'd prefer to be judged my charecter instead of his second sex.
Hana: hasn't presented yet, had an implant bc of the mecha program she was in and hasn't had it out. She dosent really care regardless.
Mei: omega, I dont have much else to add to this, she's small and soft and probably the most typical omega of the bunch.
Zarya: Alpha, much like but in contrast to Mei she is the most typical alpha of the bunch. She has kinda old fashioned views about Alphas and Omegas but after getting her ass handed to her by Reinheart while sparring, finding out he was omega and accidentally being rude to him as a result the others realised she had such veiws and Morrison, Ana, McCree and Mei had a little sit down talk with her. She quickly learnt and when Satya joined later and was rude to an omega member of the pack she was the first to jump up and defend them
Satya: unknown, she has an inplant that has prevented her from presenting since she was a child and still has it. She carries herself like an alpha and looks down on Omegas however she looks down on eveyone so her veiw is often overlooked.
Reyes: Alpha. Pack leader, protective and angy. Nuff said.
Sombra: Beta with blockers that stop her from producing any scent for stealth. She has been a solo act for most her life and Talon with Reyes is her first ever pack so she takes time to adapt but once she does it suits her surprisingly well.
Widow: Amile was Omega. Widowmaker has no heats or scent.
Baptitse: deadass I'm not sure. Could litterally be any. Big soft alpha? Big kind omega? Lovely helpful Beta? I really don't know. I feel like I can't make all medical staff Betas tho...so...omega. He had a blocker put in when he joined Talon and those lot assumed he was Beta or Alpha since he never knew. But once he leaves and gets freedom of a sort he chooses to have it removed. He suffers a little for it but he's generally positive and not insecure about it. He dosent like to share heats with anyone tho, it's the one time he shuts himself off from everyone.
Moira: Alpha. Toxic.
Brigette: Alpha, presented a few years ago. She's like a golden retriever but smarter, if you're her friend she will do anything you ask, gets you random gifts and upgrades, carries anything for her friends no matter how heavy, but if you try to abuse her kindness you'll find she sint stupid and it takes one glare for someone to know you don't fuck with this Alpha. She may be a healer but she could absolutely destroy you if you try to fuck her or her friends over.
Torb: Alpha. Can go into a pure rage in a moment but will never use an alpha voice. He's just a cranky old man who seems to have practically forgotten he's an alpha. Was very proud of Brigette's presenting but gave her a few lectures and lessons to make sure it never went to her head.
Sigma: I barely know this cherecter, can no say
Doomfist: Alpha. Asshole. Talons top dogs and heavy hitters are mostly alphas. It's like...toxic alphaism at its finest. Doom is smart and cunning and wants to complete dominate situations he's in. He's an alpha.
Tracer: can't belive I forgot tracer until now, Omega. She was often underestimated for being a little omega in the past but this spitfire powered through everything in life with positivity and self love and she embraces evey part of herself. She sometimes flies home for heats when they're not too busy and are well staffed so she can spend time with her girlfriend.
Roadhog and Junkrat: Alpha and Omega. They're a couple. No I will not take criticism. These two are mates and do litterally whatever they want as long as they're together. In the wasteland there are no gender expectations, only explosives, violence and love.
Ashe: don't know much about her either but I wanna say omega with major alpha vibes. She is the embodiment of the phrase "power bottom" in every sence
Pharah: mmmmm Alpha. She's stubborn and strong, a real soldier, but if you compliment her muscles or challenger her she will show off.
And I think that's it! Any other ideas? Leave them in the comments!
#omegaverse#overwatch omegaverse#ow omegaverse#overwatch#soldier 76#mccree ow#ow hanzo#genji#sombra#tracer#reaper#im not putting all their names fuck this
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Extremely fascinated by your wag AU tag 👀.
thanks bestie so am i.
okay lmao so this isn't an actual fic that'll ever be written but. i was talking to my friend about it who still hasn't finished dts season 3 unfortunately but it means that i've switched around ages and years etc. i promise this has the potential to be a fun and sexy time but there's just s o much background shit that needs to be discussed. tw for mentions of irl deaths etc:
but pierre & charles meeting when they're 5-6 (which is what i think charles actually says irl but someone said it might've been closer to when they were 10-11? regardless.) and charles' dad passes away when they're 9-10, and jules when they're 13-14 and charles quits racing then. (fyi i know that irl jules passed away first)
he thinks about quitting when his dad passes away but keeps going with help from jules. so when the accident etc happens, it's not even like an active decision he ponders. he just knows there's no way he'll race again.
and pierre's been with him throughout everything, his best friend who he can talk to when he can't bear looking at his own family. so he doesn't understand when pierre tells him he's going to keep racing. when charles had told him he was never going to get into a kart ever again, pierre had nodded, grabbed his hand and squeezed it tight. important to note that they're barely teenagers rn so yes charles feels betrayed that pierre isn't feeling the same things he is and isn't choosing the same future for himself etc.
they have a huge fight, lots of crying, lots of dramatic teenage angst. but it ultimately ends with charles shutting pierre out of his life. which is easier said than done when it's your best friend whose family is super close with yours. but it works because pierre is off racing around the world and charles has done all he can to never have to think about that stuff.
so charles goes to school, is doing uni somewhere in europe. studies something generic like business or maybe if i'm feeling suuuuper indulgent i will have him major in environmental studies like moi <3 pointedly does not come to monaco during grand prix weekend or the week before or the week after.
and then anthoine passes away too. (they're 20-21 now)
they see each other again at the funeral but don't talk, they meet up afterwards. pierre breaking down in charles' arms, clutching at his back, telling him he was right. pierre should've quit, he can't do this anymore either. they haven't said a word to each other in 7 years but charles still knows pierre, and knows that this isn't actually what pierre wants. or what he should do. (charles vaguely knows pierre's in f1 but doesn't know he's with redbull, doesn't know redbull's the top team etc)
"you can still do this, you will," charles tells him.
"not without you again."
so then comes the challenge of mending their relationship while still working through the shared trauma, and the Layers of past trauma. and also just the general awkwardness that comes with a friendship breakup/makeup situation you know! they can't just act like nothing happened but would it be easier that way?
they start texting first, then they play fifa or cod together. (sometimes pierre's british friend lewis joins too.)
slowly slowly slowly, they become friends again and then inseparable too. maybe even closer than they were before and charles only now realizes how much he missed pierre. while pierre still can't believe he has charles back now, it's as good as he let himself imagine.
the part i'm unsure about is if i would want pierre's career trajectory to be the same or not. because i think the demotion adds SUCH a painful but interesting aspect to his ~storyline. but ultimately i think maybe he just doesn't get the second seat immediately. spends more years with toro rosso/alpha tauri before getting "called up" (sorry i have no idea what the proper terminology is haha ignore the nba/nhl terms).
he invites charles to his first race in the red bull and charles says no. immediately. pierre's quiet on the other side of the phone, internally thinking he messed this up somehow. he thought things were going well and he takes this as charles doesn't want to see him. but he knows there's a lot more that's stopping charles and he also knows charles will definitely pull back if pierre asks about the other stuff. so he moves right along, asking charles about school, the weather, and tries not to let it show in his voice that he misses his best friend and needs him too.
"i'm going to try to watch," charles says, after pierre's yawned goodnight through the phone and is waiting for him to hang up. because you know pierre's not going to hang up first.
"what?"
"the race. i'm going to try. goodnight!" mentally charles slams the phone shut but really he just smashes at the red button before shoving it under his bed and looking at his hands trying to get answers for what he just did.
his only relief is that he didn't promise pierre he would watch, just that he would try. couldn't even choke out a, "good luck." (insert long paragraph about charles letting pierre down or thinking he has).
he only watches qualifying. pierre p3. already knows on saturday that there's no way he can watch the actual race.
but on sunday when he's supposed to be going over his notes for his climate change science & policy course (yes.... i did it...) he finds himself with his heart in his mouth refreshing formula1 dot com. watches the random names move up and down while keeping his eyes on 10 - gasly. (starts shaking for a second when he sees pierre's name drop until the IN PIT sign comes up across his name. fellas the thing about triggers is-- anyways.)
the scariest part is that by the time he's scrolled through all of red bull's socials to look at pictures of pierre on the podium (he finished p2 sorry i know this truly does not matter), he's forgotten about the race. the anxiety sits small in the back of his throat, his happiness for pierre is bright and loud in front of him. charles sends him a message, asking him to call whenever he can and adds a blue & red heart emoji which feels like a Big Step. but basically pierre calls and acts like nothing has happened since the last time they talked. mentions the breakfast he had in detail as if he didn’t get a podium in his first race with red bull. finally with a big team. but charles embarrassingly realizes that maybe his text didn't exactly imply in literally any way whatsoever that he knows the results of the race and was trying to congratulate pierre with this call. charles probably feels so embarrassed at this point but somehow still can't manage to say anything about the race until the next day maybe.
maybe texts pierre, good job. or, you were great. or something about him and not the race. or maybe reposts a picture from red bull but not one of pierre in his car, pointedly. only one of him on the podium. and pierre probably reposts it with the squid emoji and/or my favourite sentence in the world, merci petit calamaro.
charles cries when he reads it.
not to be lazy now but [insert 10k words of them building their friendship. meeting up in monaco with both of their families. meeting in milan or london or paris idk where pierre would live. but he flies charles out. not on a private jet because charles flat out refused lol. not because he's an environmentally conscious king he's just too, embarrassed? overwhelmed? by pierre doing Things Like That for him. even though he wants it lol. like when he graduates he's soooo annoyed that pierre couldn't come celebrate immediately because it was race week. but when he comes home his apartment is filled with flowers (roses, his favourite) and balloons and a giant teddy bear as tall as charles. and he DOES post 12 instagram stories to go with the other 30 from his other friends congratulating him. so yeah charles goes through a lot of personal growth and therapy. to the point where he's watching pierre race again, and waiting for him to invite him to a race again!!! do not even think about actual dates i'm fucking begging you but the one he goes to is monza :))))]
ultimately charles' path to understand/accepting/moving on from, his trauma, happens once he has pierre back in his life. it's also encouraged by pierre, but it's also not entirely because of him. not sure how to word that but yeah. these things are happening at the same time but charles still has to go through them by himself.
pierre takes him on romantic dates all around the world and charles doesn't realize that's what they are. fully in his bestie vibes only mood while pining for pierre in a way he doesn't even quite understand. almost a self deprecating, jeez whoever gets to date pierre is going to be so lucky :/
fanpage on ig: met pierre's alleged bf he's so pretty and sweet, i complimented his shoes and he was so nice.
charles reading that: i didnt know he was dating someone :( why wouldn't he tell me :( well at least someone complimented my shoes today :(
pierre doesn't necessarily think they're dating, but he does know charles doesn't quite realize what they're doing so he's just waiting for him to come to terms with it.
not to give this au 10 different subplots but yeah that miscommunication plot becomes our prize for surviving through the first part of this.
but yeah at the last race of the year, that pierre wins because i said so? charles finds him before he goes on to the podium, kisses his helmet. says i love you, i'm so proud of you.
THEN, finally, charles does become pierre's wag. we made it kids. we did it joe.
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