#AND THEN TELLS MIKE ITS ALL HIS FAULT AND MIKE SHOULD BLAME HIM!!! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

clanwarrior-tumbly · 1 year

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before the incident happen Steven, mike and y/n are good friends , steven got miki, mike have squirtle and y/n got bulbasaur. y/n is not good at battling but good at support steven and mike. when steven won and become the champion y/n congratulations both of them and y/n give mike an suggestion to fill out the pokedex instead, mike agreed to this. when the incident happen steven left, y/n comfort mike when he blame himself but y/n keep telling him that its wasn’t his fault it was the trading machine. when steven return and tell mike that he going to sleep y/n have a bad feeling about it so they suggested to stay their home for the night which steven and mike agreed to this. later on night steven quietly left to get missingno and return to mike room and about to strangle mike y/n rush in and push steven, steven is angry at y/n to let fake miki in peace but y/n keeping telling steven "is this miki want this?" then y/n pull out they pokeball and threw it and tell venasuar to used vine whip to stop steven and turn on the light to see the fake miki. steven is shock and crying "I just want her back and I miss her so much!" then the fake miki disappeared, y/n comfort steven and telling him "it wasn’t you or mike fault, its just an accident" when steven crying and hear a voice " don’t forget I’m with in your heart" steven see the window and saw miki in a ghost form with sadness oh her face, steven realise his anger and sadness "what have I done...." (woah that my longest ask I ever got)

And this is my longest Pokepasta fic thus far!! Which is basically my retelling of Strangled Red’s story (but with Y/N and a bittersweet ending au)

......................

While you weren't the very best at Pokémon battles, you were an excellent supporter of those who dedicated their lives to it.

For instance, there’s your best friends Steven and Mike. You’ve known the brothers for years, the three of you dreaming of the day you could train your very own Pokémon.

When the time finally arrived, they chose Charmander and Squirtle respectively, while you happily picked Bulbasaur. Immediately they bickered over the superior Pokémon and initiated a battle, in which Steven achieved his first victory. You were proud of him, but declined when he offered to battle you next.

Instead you remained in Pallet Town, quietly training your Bulbasaur and other captured Pokémon in peace while the two explored the region to conquer the gyms and earn badges.

You had a nice garden of berry trees and a small stock of potions should the brothers or any of your friends need them for their Pokémon. Some Team Rocket goons came along to steal your supplies and kidnap your Bulbasaur, but they evolved into Ivysaur, attacking with a powerful Solar Beam that sent the evil-doers running scared.

Nobody was going to harm your beloved grass-type on your watch.

Meanwhile, you’ve overheard news that Steven was gaining quite the reputation throughout Kanto, as his Charmander--who he named Miki--proved to be much stronger than others of her species. And she was quick to evolve into a powerful Charizard.

She swept the competition when fighting the Elite Four; type disadvantages and super effective attacks didn’t stop her one bit. Soon afterwards, she and her trainer were back in a familiar setting:

Facing off against Mike and his Blastoise.

Against all odds, Steven won and earned the title of champion, which was quickly televised as news reporters flocked to Indigo Plateau.

You were elated to see the brothers shaking hands on TV. You couldn’t be prouder of what they achieved throughout their long journey.

Once they returned home, you threw them a big party alongside your recently-evolved Venusaur and your main Pokémon team to celebrate. While Steven deserved it for becoming champion, you made sure Mike wasn’t left out, saying that him beating all the gyms and the Elite Four was no small feat.

It was a huge victory for both of them--your lifelong friends.

All in all, it was an amazing day.

Probably the best day of your lives.

............

“Heya, how’s the Pokedex coming along?”

“Oh great! I just need one more Pokémon to complete it, then I can finally get my hands on that sweet, sweet diploma.”

“Nice! So who is it? Mew?”

“......uh, no.”

“...Aerodactyl..or Zapdos?”

“....I have all the Legendaries and fossil Pokémon. You’ll laugh if I tell you who I’m missing..”

“Try me.”

“It’s Charizard, okay?” Sighing, Mike slumped over the couch in defeat, finally ripping the bandaid off. His face was flushed as he stared at the screen of his Pokedex, frowning at the empty space beside Charmeleon.

Although you did promise not to laugh, you couldn’t help but be slightly amused that he was missing the final evolution of a starter, of all things.

Ever since Steven won the championship, Mike revealed to you that he was still a bit salty over losing, pouting over it in recent days. So you suggested that he tried finishing the Pokedex instead, and he loved the idea.

He got to work searching for all the Pokémon he missed in his journey, even revisiting the most dangerous places.

Of course, his heart was bigger than his brain most of the time, and you expected him to come back beaten up and empty handed...

Only to show up at your doorstep beaten up, but with an annoyed Mewtwo at his side, grinning from ear-to-ear. He even proudly admitted to finding a shiny or two.

Least to say, you were very impressed.

So to learn he acquired that one before a Charizard had you shaking your head. “Seriously? That’s all?"

“..I know it’s dumb. I should’ve had one since the beginning. But I’ve had crap luck with finding a Charizard. I’d train a Charmander but that just takes too much time..” Pouting slightly, Mike tapped his fingers against the table, thinking.

Then he suddenly sat up and snapped them. “Aha! I know what to do! I’ll just borrow Steven’s!” His eyes practically shimmered as he looked at you. “We can trade!!”

You blinked. “You really think he’d give up Miki that easily-?”

“Oh no, no, no! I-It’s only gonna be a temporary trade!” He stammered in correction. “She needs to recognize me as the trainer in order for the entry to register. Besides, Steven said he just needed a Blastoise...so we’ll swap our Pokémon for a quick second and then swap ‘em right back! That way, we finish the dex at the same time.”

“Hm, sounds like a good idea. As long as he’s okay with it.” You nodded in agreement, smiling.

“Yeah! He can trust me. Man, I’m a genius.” He laughed, standing up and stretching before eagerly grabbing his Pokedex and bag. “I’ll go talk to him about it. Smell ya later, [y/n]!”

"Later, Mikey!”

With that, he left your house, waving goodbye to Venusaur--who was tending to the plants on your windowsill. They waved a vine right back.

He was super excited.

Why didn’t he think about this sooner?

.............

“I don’t want to.”

“What? Come on, I just gotta borrow her for a second to finish the Pokedex.” Mike pouted as he and Steven chatted in front of the computer. “The entry won’t register unless she recognizes me as master for just a second.”

“...but she’s my Miki.” The latter muttered, clutching his bag’s strap closer to his body.

Least to say, this was a side to Steven that Mike’s never seen before. Of course he knew how much Miki meant to him, but to be this clingy seemed ridiculous. It’s not like he was going to run off with his Charizard the moment she was in his possession.

"I promise I’ll give her back. Come on, please?”

“........”

“..please? I talked to [y/n] about it, and they said it’s fine.”

Despite Steven’s continued hesitance, he eventually gave in and nodded silently. “Fine..let’s be quick about it.”

“Alright! This will take just a sec.” Mike ducked down to ensure all the cables were connected, before getting back on the chair. He booted up the trading system on the computer, the tubes extending outwards. “Then we’ll both be Pokemasters! How awesome would that be?” He chuckled.

As they took out their respective starter pokeballs, Steven stared down at Miki’s with a slight frown.

The idea of giving someone else the Charizard he adored and cared for, even temporarily, made him nervous.

But...he could trust his own brother, right? Mike would never try to steal his precious Pokémon.

And besides, you said it was okay, too. So why was he so worried?

Certain that promise will be kept, Steven started the trade first, setting the pokeball down on the table. It was vacuumed up into the machine, displaying a small sprite of a Charizard as it travelled through the tube.

He relaxed his shoulders a little, waiting patiently for the transfer to finish.

“Mike?”

“Yeah?”

“In case you’re worried..I also promise to give you back-”

SNAP

The loud sound startled the brothers, who looked back at the screen and realized it was somehow frozen, with Miki in the middle of the tube.

“Huh? What’s going on?” Mike’s eyebrows furrowed with confusion as he tapped on some of the keys, but nothing on-screen changed. “That’s weird. Must be glitching or something..”

Steven, on the other hand, felt his heart sinking into his stomach, wondering what the hell that noise was and why the trade suddenly stopped working. “What do you mean? I thought you checked this thing. I-Is Miki alright?”

“..I-I don’t know. I swear everything’s been updated..” Mike kept trying to get the damn thing to work, though he was starting to panic as nothing was happening. “Shit..shit...I’ve never had this issue before.”

“You mean..she’s stuck in there?!”

Maybe, I don't know! I’m gonna have to reboot-”

“NO!” Steven snapped, realizing what a huge mistake this was. “We need to get her out NOW!! Shutting it down might hurt her!!”

“We don’t know that! She might be fine!”

“Well how do you know that for-?!”

However, they stopped arguing as the screen became overwhelmed with glitches, before abruptly shutting down. And they stared at it, a tense silence falling over them both as they tried to process what happened to the machine.

Then the tubes slowly retracted, though not before one spat out Miki’s pokeball the same way it entered. But it was heavily damaged, splits and cracks all over its surface.

It managed to roll over towards Steven, who picked it up with shaky hands to examine it..

Horrified to find a bloody cable dangling out of it.

“....Miki?”

..........

[One Year Later]

While Steven was away visiting Pokémon Tower, you decided to check up on Mike. You knew he couldn’t have been doing well at all...considering it’s a rather somber anniversary:

The day of Miki’s death.

Investigators looked at the trading machine in the brothers’ home and ruled it as accidental due to faulty internal wiring. Upon examination of her body and the pokeball, they theorized that it got damaged when the system glitched, somehow allowing the cords to breach the device and wrap around her throat.

The machine still attempted to finish the transfer...essentially strangling the poor Charizard to death as she was dragged through the tube.

As to what caused the glitch remained unknown. Several Team Rocket grunts were interrogated, suspected of sabotaging the machine remotely...yet all of them denied having such knowledge or even the technology to do that.

Other trading computers throughout the region were checked, with the majority of them having no issues. Even so, everyone in Kanto was advised to use them with caution and do “test” transfers with empty pokeballs first.

Despite there being no arrests, it didn’t make Steven feel any better about what happened that tragic night.

He lost his favorite Pokémon, his starter, his ace....his precious Miki.

When she died, it was like a part of him died with her.

The depression hit him so bad, he gave up on everything that made him the great champion of Kanto. He released his Pokémon, abandoned his badges...and even handed all of his money to you.

You tried convincing him to keep some for himself, but he got so angry that he cried, saying it’s useless to him since “it couldn’t buy her back”.

Needless to say, you reluctantly took every last dollar.

It was heartbreaking to see him throw away all that he worked for, unable to cope with the grief. But then again, they were constant reminders of how Miki helped him achieve those things..so it’s understandable that he’d want to get rid of them.

Of course, you remained friends--same with Mike. You knew it was nobody’s fault, only the trading machine’s.

Yet their relationship was forever strained, a rift that wouldn’t be so easily mended. Over the past year, they hardly spoke to each other unless it involved yelling or crying. There’s very few days where they had casual chats that didn’t escalate.

Both of them were just shadows of their former selves.

So while Steven was out of town paying his respects, you gave him space on that, opting to see how Mike’s doing.

But the emotional and physical toll this day took on him was clear as he answered the door. His spiky brown hair was even more of a mess, and it’s obvious he had been crying and didn’t bother to hide it. He was still in his pjs, too, a blanket around his shoulders.

The guilt continued to haunt him, considering he suggested the trade that inevitably killed Miki. He kept his Pokémon and eventually completed the Pokedex...but he felt numb when given the diploma.

If anything, it seemed like a hollow achievement--one that he felt unworthy of despite Professor Oak’s reassurances.

You never even saw it, but that’s not why you’re here.

“Hey, Mikey. Can I come in?”

“You sure you wanna be around a Pokémon murderer?” He joked dryly, sniffling as he invited you inside anyway.

Together you sat on the couch, and you looked at him as he took shaky breaths. You could tell he was about to cry again, so you scooted closer to hug him. “I keep telling you..you’re not a murderer.” You spoke softly, rubbing his back. “You didn’t mean for that to happen.”

Immediately he crumbled in your arms, dampening your shoulder with tears as he began to sob, shaking. “I-I can’t...stop blaming myself, though. Every night..I..I-I dream of her blood on my hands..and I hear Steven saying how much he hates me..a-and wants me dead.”

You held him closely, frowning. “Mike..”

“I shouldn’t have begged for that trade like...l-like a stupid little kid. He didn’t wanna do it, and I pushed him!! It’s all my fault..I-I killed her...”

“No. You didn’t kill anyone.”

“..b-but-”

“You didn’t cause the glitch. I know that for a fact. Something like that has never happened in the history of Pokémon trading..it’s nothing that you did, Mikey.”

“...were we just unlucky?”

“...yeah.” You regretted telling him that, but you both knew it was true.

There was no easy way to comfort him over this. No amount of words could ever ease the guilt that crushed his spirit.

So you just held onto him for a little bit longer, knowing he needed you now more than ever.

After he calmed down, you decided to keep him company for the remainder of the day. His Blastoise also hung out with you both, as they understood his pain and missed Miki dearly, though they never blamed their master for what happened.

Later that evening, Steven finally returned home. He was somber as usual, shoulders slumped and exhaustion in his eyes as he looked around the now empty living room.

At last he was here, away from all the townsfolk who tried giving him crap out of “pity”.

It was all meaningless garbage, stuff that they could be using for themselves instead of wasting it on him

He internally scorned them for saying he should’ve gotten over it by now.

No..

Absolutely nothing could help him get over Miki.

Not when the sound of that snapping was still fresh in his mind, playing over and over like a record.

All he wanted to do now was sleep. He didn’t care about anything else. So he headed to the bedroom, finding you and Mike watching TV in there. The brunette glanced at him briefly upon seeing the door open, but was unable to say anything except a shaky apology before curling up in bed, turning away.

"Hey, Stevie.”

Looking at you, Steven simply nodded in greeting. His expression was blank, although his eyes watered as you stood up to hug him, finally allowing himself to be a bit more vulnerable around you.

While he didn’t show it as much as Mike, he appreciated your presence throughout this difficult year. You never pitied him, not like everyone else in town who told him to “move on” or shamed him for abandoning his champion status.

After letting you go first, he bowed his head, speaking in a hoarse murmur that you could barely hear despite him being right in front of you. “I’m going to sleep.”

Even though you were happy to hear him talking, you didn’t necessarily like the idea of the brothers being here all by themselves.

Not only because you wanted to be there during their time of grief..but also because you had a bad feeling in your gut.

At that moment, you didn't know why. It simply didn’t feel right to leave them alone. Not tonight.

“Why don’t you guys spend the night at my place?” You suggested with a soft smile, noticing Mike glancing at you now. “A change of scenery might help. And I have two spare bedrooms if you don’t wanna share one.”

Both of them were silent for a few moments, though they both eventually agreed, wordlessly getting some of their things together for the sleepover.

Soon you all headed over to your house, getting settled in for the night.

You slept in your usual room while Steven and Mike took the spares, secretly relieved they didn’t have to share.

You made some teas to help with their insomnia.

However, Steven's remained cold by his bedside, as the solitude finally gave the ex-champion time to think.

He laid wide awake in bed, holding onto one single thought:

It was something he overheard back in Lavender Town..ghost stories of how it, a “taboo Pokémon”, was lurking in the waters of Cinnebar. Unlike manufactured digital Pokémon like Porygons, this one was a physical glitch living in the real world.

It supposedly held an unfathomable power that violated natural laws, thus being forbidden from being caught by trainers.

These rumors used to scare him into not surfing out too far.

But...if it was truly capable of performing the impossible, then what if he could tame it? Control it like any ordinary Pokemon?

Maybe it could even help him, unlike all of these useless people of Kanto who claim “dead is best”.

No.

He wouldn’t accept that. He couldn’t keep living with the grief, knowing this world cheated him and took what he loved most away from him.

Why should he play fair?

It was about time he did something about it.

'I’m going to do it. IT can bring her back. IT can do anything..’

...............

Indeed, it was true.

Missingno, the glitch Pokémon, was right there in Cinnebar--almost as if it was waiting for him.

It immediately joined his side without any hesitation, and he used it back at Pokémon Tower, neglecting the professor’s warnings.

And it worked!

He got her back! It was like a goddamn miracle.

Now all he had to do was return to your home, eager to show you his beloved Charizard. Within her damaged pokeball, she slept soundly, and he refused to let go of it. She was still weak, but he vowed to make her strong again.

Just knowing his plan worked made him smile deliriously as he wandered throughout Kanto, not needing any bikes or flying-types to carry him. Hell, he didn’t even need a Pokémon to swim out to find Missingno!

It empowered him with a foreign dark force, stronger than anything a dark-type could cast upon him. But he didn't feel bad at all.

Far from that, actually.

For the first time in his life since the tragedy, he felt...happy.

He was so happy, he couldn’t stop smiling. And he wondered why all the trainers who were out this late suddenly averted their gazes as he walked by.

Even the officers didn’t try to stop him, instead nervously telling him to move along and stop staring at them.

They seemed to know the power he possessed.

He was living it..breathing it.

By Arceus, did it feel good.

After entering your house, Steven quietly locked the door before heading to the room where Mike was currently sleeping.

He stopped and loomed over his bed, staring down at him with such hatred..

How could he sleep at night, knowing that he’s suffering because of his selfish actions?

Something like that is unforgivable.

"STRANGLE”

A hushed, distorted voice whispered to him once, and his smile only grew more.

What a fitting end that would be for his brother...her murderer. It was slow, but quiet so you wouldn’t hear what was happening. That was fine by him.

He can make things look like accidents, too.

He was so close to getting her back.

They'll be reunited! Together forever!

That sounded delightful. All he needed to do was finish the job by avenging her.

“Goodbye.” He rasped, startling Mike awake as he looked up to see the tall figure staring down at him in the darkness of the room, terrified to his very core.

“Steven!!”

Tensing, Steven noticed you running into the room, only to freeze in shock at what he looked like:

His face was overcast with the darkest shadows, eyes glowing an eerie red, and his hair extremely frazzled--worse than a feral Arcanine’s mane.

But what was most horrifying about him was the pearly white grin that stretched from ear-to-ear.

It looked so..unnatural.

And you knew exactly why he was like this.

"Get away from him, now!!"

As you shoved him away from Mike, Steven stumbled back clumsily, seething at you for foiling his plan. "He told you.."

“You can’t do this, Steven. This isn’t going to change what happened!”

He didn’t understand the cost. What bringing a Pokémon back from the dead would do to this world..and to himself.

You couldn't let him go any further.

“No, but it worked. She’s here with me again. See?” Laughing hoarsely, he dropped a broken pokeball, watching as it rolled near the dark corner of the room. It opened up to reveal the shadow of a Charizard without a flaming tail.

You could barely see it, but it wasn’t the Miki you all knew and loved.

“Th-That’s not her, Steven..it’s lying to you. Do you think she would’ve wanted this?!”

“Yes.” He spat with such coldness, growing increasingly frustrated. “She’d want me to kill the bastard who took her away from me..this is the only way, [y/n]."

You just shook your head, knowing what you’ll have to do now. You didn’t wanna hurt him, but if there was any humanity left in him....you’ll have to bring that out somehow.

"I'm gonna ask you once..stop this. Put that thing back in the grave.”

“Never.”

“....then I’m sorry.” Reaching into your pocket, you grabbed a pokeball and tossed it to the floor. “Venusaur! Help me out!”

Your starter emerged with a growl. But upon realizing they’re in a bedroom and not on a battlefield, they glanced at you in confusion. “Ve? Venus?”

“Use Vine Whip on Steven.”

“...saur?” They swung their head towards Steven and M@#$, suddenly overcome with terror and bewilderment. But despite their scary appearances, Venusaur was conflicted about harming a human; they simply looked back at you.

“Just trust me.” You pleaded.

“What..? You can’t do that!!” Steven shouted, gritting his teeth at your betrayal. “You can’t attack me with a Pokemon’s move!!”

“If you can cheat, so can I. Now USE VINE WHIP!!”

“WHY YOU-!!” He darted forward to tackle you, but a flash of green lashed out at him, slashing his hands with searing pain that made him cry out.

You stepped aside as he was then tripped by vines, collapsing to his knees. His back was heaving as he pressed his forehead to the ground, screaming in agony and frustration.

If he had to kill you, too..so be it. He'll strangle anyone who tried stopping him from being with Miki.

"Y-You want me to be unhappy...IS THAT IT?!! YOU DON'T WANT ME TO GET BETTER?!!"

"We do wanna help you, Steven..but not like this." You shook your head, rushing to Mike's side and sitting with him. He hugged you, trembling in fear. Venusaur joined you too and took a defensive stance.

Steven snarled animalistically as he stood back up, noticing the dozens of cuts on his fingers. He'll admit, your starter was smart and had some sharp thorns, but that only succeeded in pissing him off.

Then a sudden bright light illuminated the room, and he looked to see them retract their vine. He scowled. “I’ll burn you all alive...MIKI, USE-!!!”

However, as he pointed to you and glanced at his Charizard at the same time..he suddenly stopped himself.

His throat tightened upon seeing what she truly looked like, now that the darkness could no longer conceal her.

He was so confused.

What he brought back from the grave wasn’t Miki at all...but a glitchy rotting corpse that struggled to resemble her.

Her flesh was falling off, especially around the neck, muscle and skeletal remains exposed in countless places--and her wings had many holes in them. The pitiful thing could barely even stand, needing the walls to support her.

And her face..oh god, her face...

It was nothing but a decaying skull with veins, dried blood, and hollow sockets staring at him.

The whine she emitted was horrendous, and full of glitches that pained Steven’s ears, as he covered them. ‘No..this..this can’t be...’ He was mortified, realizing his mistake.

It didn’t bring her back. Not at all. Instead it put an abomination in her place, feeding off of his guilt and rage.

It tricked him.

You had no idea how Steven would react to seeing the truth, but you gave Venusaur a pat on the head for their quick thinking.

For a while he stood there, but soon he was on his knees again. The darkness overshadowing his entire face was gone, instead revealing an expression of genuine anguish and tears.

“...y-you lied to me. I just..I just wanted her back!! I-I miss her..”

M@#$ tilted her head, emitting a softer yet heavily glitched growl.

“Leave...GET OUT!! YOU’LL NEVER BE HER!!” Steven screamed heartbrokenly, watching as the corrupt Charizard finally dissolved into pixels.

At last, she was gone..now that he saw through its façade.

You were relieved to see it let him go, returning him to his old self. So you got up and cautiously approached him, although you felt a vine loosely wrap itself around your hand.

“Saur?”

You looked back at Venusaur, smiling in reassurance. “It’s alright now. You did good.”

“..ven.” Nodding in understanding, they let you go, watching you walk over to the weeping man on the floor. You kneeled down, and he looked shocked to see you in front of him.

But before he could say anything, you pulled him into a hug. Despite his attempts to kill you and Mike..you knew that wasn’t him talking. This was one of your best friends.

You knew he was in there somewhere--and you were happy he was back.

“I-I’m so, so sorry..” He clung to you, shaking as he apologized over and over again. “I’m a monster. I...I-I thought..I could save her. But I just killed her again..”

His fingers still stung, but nothing was more painful than the misery and guilt in his heart.

“No you didn’t, Steven.” Tears pricked your own eyes as you soon helped him to his feet. He managed to sit down on the bed once you both made it over there, right next to Mike while you sat near Venusaur. “What happened wasn’t your fault, neither was it Mike’s. And I know she wouldn’t blame either of you guys for it.”

“Venus..ve..” Nodding in agreement, Venusaur rested their head on your lap, and as you pet them, you could see Mike and Steve staring at each other for the longest time. Their expressions were almost unreadable.

You wondered what would happen. It made you a little nervous.

But to your surprise, Mike made the first move as he hugged his younger brother. “I know you s-still hate me. You have every right to. But please..d-don’t do something like that ever again, okay? I..I can’t lose you, too, bro.” He sniffled, doing his best to keep himself together.

Steven, on the other hand, broke down once more upon hearing the hurt in his voice. He sobbed into his black shirt, finally allowing himself to be comforted by the other.

He knew he didn’t deserve any forgiveness..not when he tried trading his life for hers.

You were right about everything. This isn’t what Miki would’ve wanted.

“Char...”

Hearing a voice, he looked up, putting his chin on Mike’s shoulder as he glanced at the window. His eyes widened in disbelief upon seeing a certain Charizard’s ghostly reflection in the window.

It wasn’t that awful glitchy creature..but the real Miki.

A pinkish scar was visible around her neck, albeit barely visible, and a somber expression adorned her face. Her flaming tail flickered brightly against the night sky, as if it was lit anew.

She looked so real, as if she was right outside the window and wanted to crawl in. But Steven knew she wasn’t actually there.

She was gone. Nothing could bring her back. Not even it. He had to let her go.

The only part of her he could keep alive were the memories.

With a watery smile, he nodded to the reflection, watching as she smiled back and disappeared, though not before he heard that same voice in his head, this time in human language.

“Don’t forget, I’ll always be in your heart, Master. Keep that fire going.”

#clanask #pokepasta x reader #strangled red x reader #angst #hurt/comfort

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andiwriteordie · 1 year

Note

ANDI CONGRATS ON 1500 FOLLOWERS!

I’ve been slightly obsessed with Byler and dorothea/ttds (as anyone who’s seen my awful edits can tell lmao) so maybe something with that idea of coming back for a Christmas break situationship but not being able to stay? Super angsty which I know you’ll love ❤️

LIV AHHH!!! thank you so so much!!! also, i love this prompt, so thank you thank you for sending it to me! i hope you enjoyed this modern au based on ttds/dorothea (also tbh i was listening to the very first night as well bc it felt right hahaha).

—

and it always leads to you

The sun is shining today.

The sun is shining today, and for some reason, Mike is awake much earlier than he’s ever awake nowadays. The old alarm clock sitting on the side table in his childhood bedroom reads 7:14 AM, which means Mike has been asleep for less than five hours now. It’s Sunday. There’s no reason for Mike to be awake right now, and really, he should just go back to sleep.

But Mike can’t.

He can’t, because the sun is shining today, and because his bed feels warmer than it has in years, and because Will Byers is fast asleep beside him, his brown hair messily sprawled out onto the pillow.

Will looks younger when he’s asleep. He looks a lot more like the Will Byers that Mike has known since he was just five years old—the Will Byers whom Mike has laughed with and cried with and spent so much of his life with. He looks like the Will Byers that Mike fell in love with and tentatively held the hand of when they were just sixteen and falling into something so much bigger and grander and more beautiful than they could’ve ever imagined.

Will looks younger when he’s asleep, and in this quiet moment before the rest of the world wakes up and begins its day, Mike feels a lot younger too.

He feels like he’s eighteen again—wide-eyed and bushy-tailed with his entire life in front of him. For a moment, he’s eighteen again and like the world is his oyster and like there’s nothing in the damn world that could ever break up the Party. The last seven years fade away into nothing, until Mike is eighteen years old again and waking up nearly every morning to the sight of his boyfriend’s face and thinking one thing to himself.

I want to spend forever with you.

How quickly things fall apart.

It’s not Will’s fault… honestly, it isn’t. The thing is, right before the two of them were supposed to start school together at the same university—the one at the top of both of their lists and the one that the two of them had been talking about going to with each other since they were fourteen—something completely and entirely unexpected had happened.

Will had been contacted by some fancy, renowned art school all the way over in Europe and offered a full ride scholarship. Apparently, some higher up at the school had gotten ahold of his art portfolio and was willing to move heaven and hell to get Will Byers to attend the university. It was the chance of a lifetime, and the choice was clear.

Will had to go.

And really, Mike can’t blame him. He can’t blame Will, because for the first year, they tried. God, they tried so hard, but between an eight hour time difference and busy schedules and life simply just getting in the way, they hadn’t been able to do it. For the first time in their lives, they weren’t in close proximity to each other, and they just… they fell apart.

When they broke up at first, Mike was angry. He won’t even pretend that he wasn’t. He was angry, but more importantly, he was hurt. And in the midst of all that anger and hurt, he’d said things he regrets now and had done things like delete Will’s phone number and block him on any forms of social media—desperate to just escape the feeling of rejection and of being left behind.

That was nearly six years ago. They’re older now—like actual, full grown adults with fully developed frontal lobes and everything. And for the first time, both of them are back in Hawkins, and Mike hadn’t even been able to avoid El and Max’s threats to come to dinner with the entire Party. The last thing he wants to do is make an enemy out of two people who most definitely know where he lives and who are also the self-proclaimed godmother’s of his dog, Maisie.

Seeing Will in person for the first time in literal years had been… interesting. And Mike, now being an adult with a fully formed frontal lobe, had been so, so incredibly normal about his high school ex-boyfriend, who had somehow gotten even more fucking beautiful over the past several years and who somehow still had a way of making Mike’s heart skip a beat and the butterflies in his stomach go absolutely wild.

Most surprisingly, being around Will had felt… normal. It’d been a little bit awkward at first, like neither one of them knew what to say to each other, but as much as Mike knew that he wanted to just bury their messy past and actually try to be friends, he could tell Will wanted to do the same.

So, that’s exactly what they did. You know… because they’re two adults, with full-time jobs and 401k’s and fully formed frontal lobes, who most definitely are unconcerned about their two-year long high school romance. Whatever romance they’d had when they were kids was long gone—a fond little relic of the past that they, as adults, could now look back on and smile about.

…

(Or… at least that’s what Mike will tell anyone who asks.)

“Why’re you up already?” Will mumbles, and Mike flinches, startled out of his thoughts. To his surprise, his… best friend? ex-boyfriend? current fling? is awake now, blinking sleepily and looking at Mike with half-lidded eyes.

“I dunno,” Mike admits, rolling over so he and Will are face to face now. “I’m usually up this early for school, so I guess I’m just used to it.”

Will narrows his eyes, still a bit sleepy and suspicious. “It’s Sunday, isn’t it?” he says with a yawn. “You get up at… 7 am on Sundays?”

“God, no,” Mike laughs, and when Will smiles back at him, Mike’s stupid stomach does a little somersault. “I don’t know. I haven’t been up for very long.”

Mike pauses, then he gives Will a curious look. “Why are you up?” he asks suspiciously. “Wouldn’t it be like… sometime in the afternoon where you live? I figured you’d be all jet-lagged and shit.”

“I came right from the airport to dinner yesterday,” Will says, yawning once more. He shifts a bit closer to Mike now, so their lips are barely inches apart, and Mike’s breath catches. “Must’ve been too tired to get jet-lagged.”

“You can go back to sleep if you want to,” Mike suggests, his voice quiet. “I… I doubt my parents will come knocking on my door, so if you’re still tired, you can—”

He never gets to finish his sentence, because oh.

Oh, okay.

It’s early in the morning. The sun is shining. And Will Byers is kissing him.

Will Byers is kissing him.

…

Again.

“I’m okay,” Will murmurs, his voice low. “I’d rather just… stay up with you. If that’s okay.”

There’s a look in his eyes that makes Mike’s breath catch again, and Mike can’t help the smile that forms on his face. “Yeah… yeah, of course, it’s okay, Will,” he whispers, reaching up to cup Will’s cheek gently. “Whatever you want.”

A slow smile forms on Will’s face, and he leans close, kissing Mike soft and sweet. “I just want you,” he whispers back. “That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

For a moment, the two of them are eighteen again. For a moment, they have their entire lives ahead of them, and the world is their oyster. For a moment, neither Mike nor Will knows anything about the world, but they do know one thing.

I want to spend forever with you.

“Me too,” Mike murmurs, and he gently runs his thumb across Will’s cheek. “Me too, Will.”

And after another shared smile, Mike closes the gap between them.

When this moment is over, they’ll go back to being twenty-five again. When this moment is over, they’ll be forced to remember the fact that they have their own lives—lives which have long since been separate from each other. When this moment is over, both Will and Mike will have to return to their own worlds, where “forever” with each other simply isn’t an option and hasn’t been in years.

But for right now, it’s just the two of them.

Mike and Will.

Will and Mike.

The way it always has been.

#andi's asks #byler #byler ficlet #andi writes not dies

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beaulesbian · 2 years

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No bc Mike getting vecna'd is such a good idea if byler endgame is the goal. Like his regret/shame would be the fact that he can't say ily to his gf and the fact that he's in love w his best friend but repressing it. Then will could confess and this would remove some of that shame thus possibly saving him?? Cause people saying will gets cursed has me wondering what his regret would be (other than his love for Mike, which he seems to be relatively accepting of, whereas Mike (if he is in love w will) is repressing it much more and prob thinks it will hurt el whom he really cares about)

(this got a bit longer than i first wanted, but i have too many delusional theories 💖)

exactly, i see this more even as a great tool for their respective character developments than even for the ship itself, but ofc that would be best outcome if this all happened.

in my opinion if will gets vecna'd it would just be too similar to what hes already been through before, it would be unnecessary repeating. what we need is to see will have some connection to the upside down, that will help by the end to defeat vecna or whoever else in s5.

meanwhile it would be much more interesting to see this with mike. bc overall its a bit more difficult to see what hes really thinking, if we only see the surface level emotions.

first, he cares about all his friends beyond anything. and while will and el and max went through such trauma that was very visible, (and theyre still dealing with that, we still dont know much how mike is dealing with anything.

we only see how he changes depending on whos around him and how they interact together (dustin and lucas, eddie, will, el, his family - i feel he acts very different around each of them)

In season one his best friend went missing, was pressumed dead and had a funeral - mike thought, even for a while, he lost him permanently.

In that time el appeared and was helping find will, his friends suddenly think he likes her more than a friend (its whats normal, right? Ofc he should like her before he even knows himself...)

He fights with lucas about el in s1, and one of the things he said (i cant remember exactly now) is how he feels guilty they fought about it, "if only he could have said something more, something better, its my fault"

i think he said something similar in different situations during the first three seasons, and then in s4, when hes opening up to will about this, he tells him similar thing twice "if only i explained myself better, i should have said something more to el, do something better"

from that i get the feeling hes always trying to do not just the best he can, but whats expected of him. and when he finds he doesnt have the power to stop something, or physically cannot make himself say something thats probably not true, he blames himself afterwards.

S3 is such rollercoaster for him, hes with el but cant be with el bc hopper, and then cant say what he feels - or maybe he doesnt know whats hes supposed to feel. And then el and will are leaving. Two of his most important friends, and i think thats what made him all the more confused, bc what if he misses will more than el?

Why did the promise of will wanting only play d&d with mike made him smile so much, but then the kiss with el made him all the more confused?

theres two such contrasts in his personality, where one of his main beliefs is "friends dont lie" and he does as much as he can with honestly, but at the same time he pushes something inside him down and pretends it doesnt exist (his complicated feelings towards.. romance, lets say).

Back to the vecna theory - this is why i think if mike gets vecna'd it would add more perspective to his character and for us to see what all hes been going through in the past seasons.

Same as his feelings towards will, its been there building from s1.

It could be few flashbacks and memories telling the audience the scenes that already happened from mike's point of view, how he struggles at home,

how he regretted the words he said to will in s3 (its not my fault you dont like girls), bc it was more directed at himself than will, but he didnt realize that yet.

how finding eddie and playing in d&d club could mean hes slowly finding himself (and with d&d being like a connection will again, bc its something they both loved playing together).

And how all of this is so confusing, especially for their time in the 80s, and hes still trying his best, but slowly, more and more cant ignore that his heart wants something (someone) else than hes supposed to be with.

Its just all these things that will go either unnoticed and unmentioned in the series, which i think would be a shame, or it could be addressed in the way with vecna who would manipulate his fears and nightmares, and if others can save him (which im sure they would), he could start process it in a better way, more honest to himself as well to others. To accept himself, and by that also will's feelings (if he noticed those, which i dont think he did, i think will noticed mike's confused ones, if anything.)

#ok posting it like this theres probably a million mistakes but i could only write this during work half thinking about other things shdjnf #byler #my ramblings #i hope this wasnt totally confusing i just have too many headcanons and theories about mike and his character #at the same time i wanna hug him but also.. boy you need some vecna therapy sorry about that #stranger things #spoilers #mine #byeler

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byler-forever-7 · 2 years

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So... I've been thinking for a while if I should be doing this because I know some people will not agree with me and I don't want to start a fight or to upset someone so... If ur reading this, I'm going to talk about why I think Mike being gay is better for the bisexual community than being bisexual. If your not comfortable with this, U can skip it. ITS FINE!

I know it sounds weird, but, if we think about it, the problems against bisexual people nowadays (without mentioning the homophobia bcs ofc it is) are practically led to being """"in the middle of it all""""":

— Ur not Straight but ur not gay, so, when for example a bisexual girl starts dating with a guy, people usually tend to erase bisexuality and think she is straight and vice versa, but, does it sounds familiar to you?

Mike has dated a girl, and therefore a lot of people think he can't be gay. They are ignoring the fact that dating someone doesn't define ur sexuality, neither for your hole life, and if Mike was cannonly gay, he would not only be representing gay people with interiorized homophobia who dates a person to avoid the truth, but the fact that dating someone doesn't (again) define ur sexuality, which is something bisexual people do struggle with.

— Another important argument is heteronormativity.

This is a bit of a story but, I have two bisexual friends (we're three LMAO), one is a girl, and the other one is a guy. One day my girl friend heard someone thought my friend and her were dating because they skipped together a random class. Still she and I have done it before and no one really thought that, that's how heteronormativity affects bisexual people too.

Showing how Mike struggled with the expectations of being straight is really healthy for bisexual and, presenting a character that explored his sexuality ON a heteronormative society is actually healing me, because, in my case, even if I'm bisexual and I know it, heteronormativity shows up doing things to me like not getting used to say I could have a bf or gf or x and stuff like that. Due to homophobia and bifobia I get surprised when someone ask me if I like someone, mentioning the all genders (I love how my mom unexpectedly get used to it).

Those are a few problems I've struggled with for being bisexual in a heteronormative society.

And I actually could do a hole post about why I think seeing Mike as bi or straight is actually due to the heteronorm but, I think it would be better if you read analysis on Tumblr, because I wouldn't say anything that hasn't been pointed out yet.

Still I wanted to tell you the most important ones for me.

The only explanation for Mike hating so much Max in S2 and 3 are just that he's gay, I'm not going to elaborate, again, people has pointed this out. In S1 every party member doesn't like Eleven and aren't interested in her at all, meanwhile, in S2 everyone seems (to Mike)to be interested in Max but him. (Still so funny). In S3 he even says Max is conspiring against him, like?? For what?? For letting her know she can dress however she wants to and not only be with u??

The more Eleven finds herself and defines as a person and explore her feminine gender, the more Mike looses interest in her.

He hasn't been attracted to any other girl than El.

He hasn't reacted to any kind of girl or girl related stuff (like the sauna vs the lingerie scenes or the Daphne game)

Any of those were mine.

I wanted to tell you this because If we want to end this real bisexual's problem (heteronormativity) we shouldn't US be doing the exact same thing people do to homosexuals. So, in my opinion, it is kind of homophobic to see Mike as a bisexual boy, because, it is due to heteronorm statements (still I'm NOT BLAMING anyone because we need to understand that we are ALL homophobic, mysoginist, racist, capacists... It's all been learned and I don't want you to feel like you are doing sth wrong or it is your fault🥺).

With that being said that's my two arguments. Heteronormativity and how it affects LGBT+ community, and defining someone's sexuality based in who are they dating are common problems that Mike's gay ass fights :).

Again this is MY opinion, don't take it seriously because Mike is not canonly anything yet. The hints nowadays points to him being gay, but that does not mean that's what the he is because it is all a headcanon. I still insist I don't want people to get uncomfortable or feeling bad for wishing a character to be bi to have that representation because the important thing is that we all are a community that wants to have fun and watch our little Will be angsty but happy at the same time (yass)

11/06/2022

(the date is bcs u'll never know when will you change ur opinion, specially in this topics where everyday I keep learning).

#byler

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titan-fodder · 3 years

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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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organic-guacamole · 3 years

Text

episode 209 spoilers below

I'm so late today but here it is

I love EJ, he's finally learning to be happy. I'm so proud.

Ms Jenn = every boomer during zoom calls, like jeez yes we can hear you stop shouting at me.

LOVE THE SUBTLE JOKE ABOUT QUARANTINE "these dark times" "you mean spring break?"

ah yes, remember when we thought covid was just gonna give us a longer spring break? good times

SEBLOS

damn the passive aggressiveness from Carlos and the absolutely over it tone from seb✋

CASWELL COUSINS!!!!! THEY'RE THE BEST!!!!

we needed more if this kind of goofiness for the first part of season 2 that only such an iconic duo can provide.

old old movies-

is it even that old, or is Nini being a gen alpha rn-

i choose to imagine EJ being scared of the movie and hiding in Ashlyn's shoulder while she keeps a straight face and then EJ pretending to be tough afterwards

aww redlyn are soulmates.... yknow, if gingers had souls

(please ignore me)

y'all saw how EJ's face *lit up* when Gina logged on? how dare you tell me he doesn't like her

ofc she's no damsel in distress, she's Gina porter, she's amazing.

so do we think she'd be the type to just glare at suspicious people? or bark at them

do they not know that Rini broke up? or is Ms Jenn just wanting Nini to suffer through her heartbreak to make her a better actress....

speaking of, why is Nini in the call? she's not in the show anymore. Unless she is, even after the rose and the song got cut, which would be so unfair to all those that auditioned properly before she even came back but whatever, she's the main character I get it 🙄

big red is a hero honestly, Nini better thank him for changing the subject like that

I can't-

i won't work you over the break-

this woman would 100% work her kids 24/7 if it was legal and idk how to feel about it.

YES GINA USE THAT CHARM

QUEEN

FRENCH QUEEN

SHE LEARNT FROM THE BEST (antoine obvi)

smh the airport lady, eavesdropping on Gina's call.

The way she was so happy to answer EJ's call, "eej"

I love them your honour.

EJ WITH PAINTED NAILS YES PLEASE

great now we need to see Gina, Ashlyn and EJ having a complete spa day and EJ getting really into it and Gina and Ashlyn take pictures of him when he's laying down in a robe with a mask and cucumbers on his eyes.

finally we get to see Gina's side of portwell

the way she considered it as flirting, this is the sign she asked for in episode 6 come onnnnn

no is Asher/jack really doing tiktok dances in an airport-

Ricky is me. I am burrito.

oh Lynne, sweetie, I'm sorry but the blonde hair is not it

is that even the same lady or-

THE BEAN

THE CHICAGO BEAN

THE BIG OLD METAL BEAN IN THE MIDDLE OF THE CITY 😭

jetlag is my go to excuse for anything... I haven't travelled in 2 years.

"welcome to the Lynne and Mike gossip show. where we talk about our depressed son that we both neglect in certain ways! And now a word from our sponsor, Nord VPN..."

SO MANY CANDLES

WHAT DEMON IS LYNNE TRYING TO SUMMON IN HIS ROOM-

is Nina becoming social media obsessed EJ from season 1? AND SHE LIED ABOUT HAVING SONGS TOO PLEASE WHY ARW THEY RECYCLING THE SAME PLOT-

Gina smiling at the picture of her family on Instagram makes me so happy, idek why.

EJ's nails are so pretty, we needed to see it more (unless he had it on for the rest of the episode and I just.... didn't notice🧍🏽‍♀️)

oh not the tiktok kid✋

yes ma'am end this strange mans whole tiktok career

sir take a hint and leave

GINA NO DONT SAY YOUR LAST NAME HE COULD BE A HUMAN TRAFFICKER

Ricky, walking in style✨

weird kid, ok then Lynne, can't you see he's this close to the edge?

not all your fault baby Ricky, Nini sucks a bit more

RICKY YOU DIDN'T COME DOWN HARD ON THE SONG-

YOU ASKED WHAT IT WAS ABOUT AND SHE SHUT YOU DOWN-

PLEASE DO NOT BLAME YOURSELF

ok but the deleting comment thing was very bad

still don't know if I like Jack honestly

hmmm so Nini's calling herself Nini instead of Nina in her little egg seat, while trying to write a song without inspiration.... Nini, honey, Ricky was your muse, he inspired you to write all those songs, even if it wasn't good for the relationship.

that doesn't mean you gotta get back with him, or that you can't write a song that not about him butttt it'll take some time

the rainbow sticker in her box and her rainbow shirt-

anyways wbk she's not totally straight

Jack are you a criminal?

quick, Gina, check his ankle for a tracker

THE YES AND PRACTICE STRIKES AGAIN

the way Gina wasn't into it in episode 6 but she's used the technique twice now

stole her grandma's Pomeranian-

Jack where the hell did you pull that out from-

the fake crying killed me, that looks like so much fun though

anyone wanna raid a first class lounge with me?

wait so is jack not gonna go in with her?

wouldn't he go in too? help look for the credit card? SO CONFUSED

the first class lounge guy was so into the drama though, watch his face when they start arguing 😭

sorry to break this to you Kourtney, but you haven't even blocked the second act yet soooo...

take that as you will

I love how all of them are totally dissing the dance off

that's the most realistic part of this show tbh

shouldn't Nini have asked how she knew....since the start? why is the fact that her best friend has knowledge of a North high secret now dawning on her...

Howie is sweet honestly, at least he's trying to help. but I stand with Kourtney, don't take him back just because he sang an amazing song, and is giving you a heads up on what's gonna happen...

KOURTNEY IS ME TRYING TO LEAVE AN ONLINE CLASS

I hate school

ooo Nini's writing a song about bad internet connection 🤩🤩🤩

I never lie, except when I do-

son that is the creepiest thing you could say to a stranger that you've been "helping"

2 truths and a lie👀

he's an Ariana fan 100%

called it.

OLDER BROTHER-

WHAT-

free spirit? damn so brother porter was in that horse movie

so has she been kissed or not?????????

I feel like she's moved more than 15 times though so possibly

but then if she's moved so much, and before east high she never opened up to anyone, she's never been kissed then?? damn

same though Gina so let's be besties please

heartbreak president is a great song title idea, give Nini a call rn

but wait

is the no strings attached feeling thing about her telling Ricky she liked him? she thought she was moving away so she thought it'd be no strings attached???

guys I think I figured it out insert the "I've connected two dots" meme

THE DUKE SWEATSHIRT

IS THAT YOUR BOYFRIEND'S

OMG I LOVE I LOVE

NOT THAT I KNOW OF???

ma'am did you just kill me

yes you did

Lynne and Ricky have such a weird relationship

YES IT DID SUCK

TODD SUCKS

LYNNE SUCKS

yeah I get that you wanted Ricky to like Todd BUT THAT WASN'T THE TIME

right so we already know that Ricky was so desperate to keep Nini cuz he didn't want to be like his parents, and now Lynne's talking about this-

Richard needs a long hug

yes Lynne, it is your fault. thank you for finally admitting it.

YES DYE YOUR HAIR

BLOND HIGHLIGHTS RICKY WILL RISE AGAIN

"sometimes the best, last thing you can do for someone you love, is let them go."

gotta admit I teared up at that point

not me thinking big red was calling ms Jenn cupcake for a hot second-

Carlos please omg, you're at the "beach" and they're leaving for the pool?

also, why not just do the call from the hotel room please omg

"don't ask me"

"Carlos"

OMG WHAT HAPPENED

big red wants the tea

O M G

SEB IS JEALOUS

JEALOUS SEBBY IS MY FAVOURITE THING IDC

I'm surprised ms Jenn knew how to give Nini permission to screenshare tbh

So lily's been stalking the East high kids and spending time editing this video while she's supposedly in an immersion trip.... right

EJ and Ashlyn's picture is so chaotic, what even is happening there

"slacking off" bestie its spring break, obviously they're confident enough that they'll get it done in time so why not focus on your own musical.

jealous seb = sassy seb

please what if those guys Carlos is posing with are his cousins or something and that's why he's so confused about Seb

6 YEAR OLD EJ I LOVE HIM I LOVE HIM I LOVE HIM

Nini saying she's obsessed with her ex, that's not weird at all 👍

I can just tell Matt had a blast harassing Julia with those puppets.

Jack please dont be like that, "yet"

chances are you'll never see eachother again 🥰

(honestly sometimes I really miss those friends I made on trips and stuff when we'd spend the day or week together, only to never see them again....those were the good days though)

Ashlyn and Nini should write more songs..... something better than this one at least

Nini: "im good"

cue the Tia Mowry (please I can't spell) crying gif

oh I forgot Ricky was in the show for a hot second

1. where did Gina get to film this without people being around

2. did she just... randomly change her clothes???

ok but the transition between Carlos and EJ

*chefs kiss*

now everyone shut up, EJ's singing

oh i think I'm pregnant

HIS MUSCLES

YES KOURTNEY

I love how big red and Kourtney went from being "the best friends™" to the couple in season 1, to kinda close themselves and having their own plots

sebby makes me so happy

props to biggies editing skills honestly

PORTWELL BEING SIDE TO SIDE I CANT

AND SEBLOS OMG

big red lives for the drama

"wow" so true Ricky

no he is not cute, stop it

"holding" ok that's kinda cute

yeah EJ's a lucky guy😌

jokes aside, it's not that hard to exchange numbers-

keep in touch if you want

ok I really like Jack now

if he comes back in season 3, maybe have him be LGBTQ+ ?

like the only out characters they have rn are Seb and Carlos and they're like the sterotypes, yk?

I'd love to see jack kinda break the mold

Ricky's breaking my heart

that song just hurts

the only thing

now I don't hate Lynne????????

HOW DARE THEY WRITE IN A PROPER REDEMPTION ARC FOR HER

UGH IM SUPPOSED TO HATE HER FOREVER

I mean I don't live her now but she's good

but honestly

"mom can I show you something"

IT WAS SO BEAUTIFUL

THE PICTURE AND EVERYTHING OMG

I'm sobbing please help

Gina saying she's just waiting for the right guy and then EJ coming to the airport to pick her up late at night without her asking, offering to bring her back in the morning so she won't have to Uber, bringing her a granola bar (WHICH IS EXACTLY WHAT SHE FORGOT TO PACK) and without expecting anything in return???

ms ma'am you've got a keeper right there

her smile at the end was so heartwarming I really can't.

this episode was great.

it felt really short but I liked it, great character development for Ricky, Lynne and Gina.

Cant wait for next episode to see more of EJ being the ideal boyfriend /hj

#hsmtmts #hsmtmts s2 #hsmtmts season 2 #hsmtmts spoilers #ej caswell #ricky bowen #gina porter #seblos #nini salazar roberts #jack hsmtmts #carlos rodriguez #seb mathew smith #kourtney greene #big red #ashlyn caswell #caswell cousins #portwell will be the death of me #guac's episode text blocks :)

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justafandomfollower · 3 years

Text

Thoughts on Stargirl S02E01

Season 2 is here! So, I watched the first episode last night and, while I don’t often do this for TV shows I watch, wanted to share/write up my thoughts about the episode. I mean, overall, I thought it was really good and I was grinning like a loon to see the familiar characters back onscreen. But, more than that, I had some thoughts on individual characters.

First, I really really liked the way they handled Courtney’s “overworking” as Stargirl. A lot of other shows would have the debate about how being Stargirl is dangerous and she’s just a teenager, etc., etc. But they hashed that out last season, and they’re not bringing it up again here, which should be the bare minimum but ends up just being refreshing. Pat never says she needs to put away the staff (except for that last bit where he grounds her, and even that’s temporary). Instead, he cautions her to find a balance between the superhero and non-superhero parts of her life, to pass her classes, get good grades, get some sleep, learn to take breaks every now and again, and think about her future.

I do think Courtney will ultimately be proven right about the threats that are out there (I mean, duh, we saw Cindy and Eclipso right there), but nothing Pat said was wrong, or telling her that there were no threats. So, yeah. Big fan of that part. As for Green Lantern’s daughter, while Courtney was her usual “act first, think later” self, I also kind of can’t blame her, because someone did sneak into their house and steal important JSA relics. There were faults on both sides here.

The rest of my thoughts I’ve thrown under a read-more because it’s long and rambling:

I’m pretty solid and happy with where the other three JSA kids are at the moment, but I figured I’d still break it down a little.

Yolanda: I like that she’s struggling with what she did, even months later. I like that she knows she can’t say anything at church, I like that she’s still able to talk about it with Courtney, and I like that Courtney was supportive without outright agreeing with or condemning her actions. It’s a tough thing for kids to talk about, and while an experienced adult like Pat might be able to understand it better, I like that Yolanda’s not completely bottling it up.

On that note, though, they said Cindy might have gotten crushed when the satellite came down, “like Brainwave”, so there’s a possibility here that nobody else knows what Yolanda did, which’ll be interesting to see play out, if that’s true.

Rick: Again, I like where he’s at. He’s more confident in who he is, a little more settled, but also still lost. He claims Tyler as his name again and knows he’s a hero, but he doesn’t know where he goes from here. I think that’s part of why he’s seeking out Grundy, because he’s still clinging to that part of his past because he doesn’t have any clue of what’s in his future.

He’s still very much an angry teenager new at being a superhero, ranting to that teacher about how he saved her, but knowing his character (and acknowledging how crappy that teacher was), I can’t entirely blame him for that. Was it a good move? No. Did it make sense? Absolutely.

Speaking of that teacher, she was not a good one. Can I understand her wariness about the bad boy of the school suddenly getting every answer right? Sure. But, 1) it’s been months, so surely there’s been some gradual improvement, 2) that’s not the way to do it; talk to him about it, sure, but don’t refuse to accept his explanations, and 3) refusing to accept his name change is a jerk move that a figure of authority shouldn’t be making. I could wave away the first one from TV-time-skipping-magic, but not the other two. I don’t really think we’ll see this character again (but maybe in summer school), but she’s more of a vessel to show us 1) how Rick’s changed and 2) how the way others see him hasn’t, so, I suppose, in that regard, she did her job.

Beth: It’s neat that the goggles still seem to be (mostly) working, but it’s the AI that’s not functioning. Not the route I’d thought they’d go, but it’s really interesting because it gives Beth a chance to expand her skill set, or at least expand it to the viewer, and give her a role as a coder/computer scientist. It also doesn’t cheapen the “death” of the AI that happened last season.

Also, like the others (Rick at school with the teachers, Courtney and Yolanda having a discussion in the middle of main street, even Pat with STRIPE), she’s not great at hiding her activities. They’re just goggles, maybe, and she could explain them away fairly easy, but I don’t like the way she just leaves them out around the house. I’m okay with it for now because 1) she’s a teenager, still learning, and they are pretty innocuous, 2) some of it’s probably just TV “requirements”, like not wanting to cut from scene to scene or whatever (idk, I’m not in the TV business), and 3) her parents seem pretty clueless.

And speaking of her parents, man did I not like them even more this season. Every time I saw them on screen my mind went straight to: “good people, terrible parents”. Did they ever even want a kid, or did they just like the idea of having a kid to fit into their “perfect lives” until even that wasn’t enough to keep them together? They’re barely aware of what Beth does on a day to day basis, she still seems to be the one doing all the cooking, and they forget to tell her they’re coming home late? Bad parenting, and selfish parenting at that.

Overall, my mood about Beth this episode can be summed up like this: Do I like Beth struggling? No. Does it open up possibilities for what could be a really intriguing character arc? Yeah.

My biggest complaint about our JSA is that there weren’t really any scenes of them together, but that’s more of the time constraints of having so many characters we needed to get concrete information on regarding where they stand. They had that nice patrol scene in the beginning to let us know they’re all still solid friends, so I’m happy enough with that for now.

Other thoughts:

Barbara wasn’t really in it much (no mention of her job, though the newspaper article did say something about The American Dream going through changes after the death of its leader or something like that), but I can sympathize with her wanting a vacation and not getting one. It’ll be interesting to see how okay she is with Courtney as Stargirl as things get more dangerous.

Mike, likewise, wasn’t much present, but it’s clear he’s still struggling to be a part of things. Pat wasn’t wrong, when he said that the discipline, etc. from having a job was important, but it still feels like he’s brushing Mike aside and not letting him be involved, so I can see some more resentment brewing this season. Better than last season, but c’mon Pat. Mike just wants to help. Still, hopefully we’ll get a better idea of where Mike stands in future episodes.

Artemis. Really interesting the way she brushed aside her parents being in jail as them being wrongly convicted. I’ve seen Young Justice, so I’m looking forward to seeing if they turn her into a villain or hero here.

Zeek. (Is that how he spelled it? It looked like that on his hat.) I’m, probably unnecessarily, wary of how interested he was in working with Pat at the show (does he know something?) but for now I’m mostly just mildly amused at his “I don’t care what you do on your time, but hey, do you think that robot could use a flamethrower?”. Also. Pat. C’mon man. You’ve been in this business for decades. Hide your robot better. (Though, I’ll admit, he was only resigned when he realized Zeek had found it, so... Did he have an excuse ready? Did he just not read Zeek as a threat? I’m probably reading too much into this, but it’ll again be interesting to see where it goes.)

Cameron’s back, seemingly unaware of everything, and it looks like his murderous grandparents are taking care of him. Not great, but, eh, we’ll see what happens.

Sylvester is still tracking down Pat. I’m a little bit glad the landlord either didn’t give him, or didn’t have, Pat’s information from that end scene last season. I’m also interested to see if Maggie (Mike’s Mom, if my understanding of comics I haven’t read is correct) sticks around. Sylvester seems supremely unworried and in a mostly good mood, despite his desire to track down Pat, so I really want to know what’s up with him. I’ve seen some fan theories of time travel and him being a displaced Starman, which could be interesting, but I have no idea if they’re accurate. He certainly seems to be the real deal, at least with all the right memories.

Cindy and Eclipso. That opening scene was creepy, and made me question if I’d turned on the right show, and the connection with the McNider family is really interesting. Did not like the way she had Mike’s picture, but from a writing POV I really liked it. I don’t want Mike to go villain, but I mostly trust the writers to see how this plays out.

Other thoughts: The town seems to have moved on from the mind control/satellite-dish-from-the-football-field thing, so I’m guessing there weren’t too many causalities. New principal makes sense, and I like that they didn’t need to shove it in our face to remind us what happened to the old one (plus that scene where Courtney bumps into her kid; nice and simple and shows a little of how he’s coping). I appreciate that Henry hasn’t been forgotten. No glimpse of Yolanda’s home life yet, or Rick’s uncle. No idea how Rick managed to change his name, but the threat he was hiding from is more or less gone, so it makes sense.

I may have forgotten something here or there, but anyone who’s made it this far deserves a cookie, so, thanks for reading! I’m always up for discussion if anyone wants to add on or debate any of my points.

#Stargirl #My thoughts #just talking to myself

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ally-writes-many-things · 4 years

Text

I don't date Cops (J. Halstead)

Summary: Will is trying to convince you to go on a date with his brother which you didn't want to do until you spent some time with him without knowing he was Will's brother.

Words: 1160

Requested: yes

Prompts:

Warning or A/N: Anyone want a part 2? Please say yes or no in the comments!

You were just about done with a patient's discharge paper when your favorite co-worker walked up to you. "Hey Y/N!"

You smiled. "Hey Will,"

"I have a question for you?"

You finished the discharge paper and handed it to Maggie and walked to the room. "I might have an answer,"

"So you're still single right?"

You stopped in front of the door and looked at Will. "Yes, but we're just friends Will,"

"What? No. Im not asking for me, Im asking for my brother,"

"The cop?"

"Yes,"

"I don't date cops,"

You pushed opened the door and smiled at your 8 year old patient and her family. "You guys are free to go,"

"Thank you so much Dr. Y/L/N!"

"No thanks needed. If you need anything else when you get home, dont hesitate to call,"

You smiled at them once more and walked out of their room. "Why not?"

"Will, I said no. I don't need to give you my reasoning,"

Will sighed in defeat and walked away. You knew Will wasn't going to give up but at least for now, he'll leave you alone for a second.

----

You were walking out of a room when you heard Maggie's pager go off and then alarms going off.

"Dr. Choi, Dr. Y/N. GSW coming in. A detective. Go to Baghdad,"

You quickly grab your gloves and put them on just in time to see the paramedics bring in the detective. "Antonio Dawson. Fourty Nine. GSW lower right quadrant. Stripped his body armor in the ambo,"

You see a bunch of cops walking into the E.D. "Hang in there, Dawson,"

The paramedics continued. "BP 110/82, heart rate 104. Sats 100%,"

Choi looked at Doris. "Doris, with me,"

You looked at the X-ray tech. "Yeah. Mike, gonna need an X-ray. KUB and chest. Let's transfer on my count. Everybody ready? One, two, three,"

After you got him moved, Choi looked at his gunshot wound. "Single lateral gunshot wound. No exit wound. Likely retained the bullet,"

You pulled out your stethoscope to hear his breathing. "Bilateral breath sounds. Focused lower right quadrant pain. Let's get that lateral X-ray first,"

Everyone backed up. "Clear,"

"Retained bullet in the posterior lateral. Definitely transabdominal,"

You nodded. "That's enough for me. Okay, Detective Dawson, we're gonna take you up for surgery, okay? Okay. All right, Doris. Let them know we're coming up. Lets move,"

You walked out of the room and throwing your gloves away. You almost bumped into a cop. A very attractice cop. "Hows he doing?"

"Hes going up for surgery,"

"I don't know what happen, we cleared every room,"

"Officer ?"

"Its Detective and you can call me Jay,"

"Okay Jay, listen you cant blame yourself for this. He choose this career path just like you did,"

"But-"

"But nothing. Like you said you cleared everyone, as far as you knew there was no one else whereever you guys were. It wasn't for fault,"

You squeezed Jay's shoulder before walking away and you saw Will just walking into the E.D. "That is why I don't date cops,"

"Y/N, every job has its hazards. Our job definitely has its hazards,"

"Yeah, but with our job, those hazards rarely affected us,"

"Just give him a shot. If you don't like him, then I'll stop,"

"No Will,"

----

You were sitting on a bench in the hospital's courtyard. You were finally taking your ten minute break and you were enjoying the sunshine. You heard footsteps coming towards you. "Doctor Y/L/N?"

You head lifted up from the laying position you had it in. You looked behind you and saw that Jay was walking up to you and smiled at you. "Jay. You can call me Y/N,"

He nodded. "May I sit?"

"Go ahead,"

He said his thanks and sat down. "Taking a break?"

"Doctors deserve breaks too,"

"Oh for sure,"

You looked over at Jay and noticed he still was looking down. "Hey, maybe if you tell me what happened, maybe it'll make you feel better?"

Jay looked at me for a second and then away. "We were working on a case that involved a drug deal and we were still looking for a supplier and we got a tip that he has held up at this house and so we go. We busted in the door and shot a few people after they shot at us after we said that we were Chicago P.D including the supplier. I had checked every single room and there was no body in there and the next thing I hear is a gunshot. I run out of the house and see Dawson laying on the ground bleeding from being shot,"

"Was it just you two or did you have backup,"

"We had backup but we just all missed it,"

"Did you get him?"

Jay shakes his head. "Not yet, the rest of my team is looking,"

Jay wouldn't look at you. So you grabbed his face gently and made him look at you. I stare into his beautiful brown eyes. Outlined by long, full eyelashes, and above are his arched eyebrows. The whole look, gives me the urge to love him but I told Will that I couldn't date a cop but man, this one is gorgeous. "Your team was there with you, you all missed this shooter. He could have been hiding a tree, behind a car or in another house. Like you said you serached the house in question. You couldn't have known that there was another person that was involved. Jay, its not your fault. Is your team beating themselves up over this?"

Jay shrugged. "They just want to find the son of a bitch who did it,"

"Then thats what you should be focusing on too,"

You two just stared at each other in silence. You could feel a connection start to build. Jay's phone going off broke the stare. "Sorry, I got to take this,"

"Yep,"

Your pager was just paged and you were needed down in the E.D. "I got to go,"

Jay nodded as you wlaked away he answered his phone. "This is Halstead,"

This makes you stop.

Halstead? You thought to yourself. Is this Will's cop brother?

You wanted to turn around and asked but your pager went back off and said that it was urgent.

---

After dealing with fifteen patients of a bus crash, you finally let out a breath of exhaustion as you put your things in your locker to go home. You haven't seen Jay since you talked to him on break, you've seen Will but you two both were super busy and you couldn't make time to ask him. You turn around to leave the breakroom but you see Will coming in. "Will!"

"Im not gonna ask you,"

You shook your head. "Is your brother Jay?"

Will looked at you. "Yeah?"

"Set it up or give him my number,"

#chicago pd #jay halstead #jay halstead x reader #jay halstead x you #jay halstead imagine #jay halstead x imagine #one chicago

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skinks · 4 years

Note

I would just like to say Bongo Smugglers killed me. I’m sitting in class giggling thinking about a Losers movie night where they have a dramatic showing of the movie. Audra and Richie are less embarrassed then they should be. It becomes an annual tradition to play a bongo smugglers™️ drinking game at Christmas.

AHH this is amazing, I just shoved two words together that I thought were funny and suddenly it’s this whole ugly 2002 sex comedy fully formed in my head. Glad it killed you during class. And yeah, they’re definitely not embarrassed, everyone’s heckling the writing and the early 2000s fashion more than anything else anyway.

Richie happily provides commentary the whole way through even though he’s only in the sex scene, waving his tortilla chip in Eddie’s face because he’s got his arm around his shoulder, hugging him close into Richie’s side. Eddie keeps snapping bites at it so often that Richie just ends up hand feeding him chips.

“Aaaaaaand... that’s the first time I touched a boob, right there!“

“Glad to help,” Audra winks.

“The exact moment I realized I was totally lying to myself. I’m having an entire existential sexuality crisis right there on camera, but can you tell? Does my fratty façade crack an inch?”

“I could tell, because you spent fifteen minutes before the scene pacing around set and chanting you can do this, you can do this, don’t throw up, you like girls, but not too much, because you don’t get paid if you pop a boner, c’mon Richard, c’mon—”

“Like I said,” Richie shouts, over all his stupid friends laughing at him, “no one can tell, ‘cus I’m a pro—”

“You call yourself Richard during pep talks?” Stan’s grinning at him sharp-beaked, like a vulture. Has Richie seen him blink even once since he came back from the dead? Not sure, not sure, make note to ask Patty to spy.

Onscreen Audra is shimmying down her low-rise stone-wash boot-cut jeans, boots with the fur, the whole club was in fact lookin’ at her. What the fuck was anyone thinking back then? Richie privately blames the Bush administration, and continues.

“You’re a great scene partner, Audra-my-deah, and I respect you for cougaring not one but two of our little balding Brady Bunch here, but you were kinda the reason I figured out I’m gay. Like, big time gay. Well, the second reason.” He rubs tortilla-salt fingers through Eddie’s hair and feels his stomach go fuzzy when Eddie kinda thrums out a low noise against him. Oh, he’s purring. Some deep down part of Richie’s caveman psyche, lodged right in the hungry reptilian nub of his central brain wants to bear-hug Eddie to a pulp, wants to Lenny him like a mouse until they both stop breathing at the same exact moment from the pressure.

Yeesh, dark!

He smooches one of Eddie’s Easter Island eyebrows instead, keeps his lips mushed there. Smooches again. “Biiiiiiig time.”

“My wife,” Bill whips around from his seat on the floor at Richie’s feet, cheeks bulging with wontons, “my wife did not cougar me.”

Eddie shushes him. Everyone else is exchanging Looks, including Audra, because she totally did cougar Bill. Good for her!

“My wife,” Richie mimics, all sing-song and bugling. “Who the fuck are you, Borat?” Eddie snorts, hard. “Turn around and watch me make sweet love to ya woman, Bill.”

Onscreen Richie is struggling out of a giant hockey jersey at the sight of Onscreen Audra’s nubile charms. Everything is lit terribly, to a Smash Mouth deep cut.

“Oh man, check out that figure.” Richie whistles at himself, twenty-six years old with muscles like long ropes. “These were the pre-gut days. Even though my diet was just Adderall and instant ramen.”

“I like your gut,” Eddie murmurs, squidging at it with the hand not shoved up the back of Richie’s shirt. He’s already looking pretty tipsy, because he told everyone loudly and at length that he’d have to be what he deemed, shithouse drunk, to cope with whatever 90 minute dick jokeathon he was about to endure for the sake of two minutes of Richie-ass. “You’re hotter than him.”

Richie preens. “I am him, dude.”

Eddie’s hand lands clumsy on his cheek, pulling Richie’s attention away from his own foregrounded bare ass and Onscreen Audra’s shocked expression, to face him. Eddie’s all unfocused, flushed in the cheeks. “You’re both hot. Him and you, I’d fuck you both. I’d let both of you fuck me at once.”

“Um,” says Ben. Mike keeps slorping up noodles, but his eyes are saucering at Bill’s giant TV.

“Hhohkaaay,” Richie breathes.

“Is this when you saw it, Audra?” Bev asks. She waggles her eyebrows at them from the muscular nook of Ben’s arms. “The famous Tower of Tozier? You mentioned in the group chat.”

“What group chat,” Richie croaks, wrenching his eyes from the sight of Eddie’s slick tongue pulsing gently against his lower lip, hanging open like he wants Richie to see inside his mouth. Yowza-yowza-yowza, this is so much better than movie-nights back in the 90s. “I never saw anything about that? And I monitor you all on WhatsApp twenty-four-sevs. I literally have nothing better to do while Eddie’s working.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Beverly dismisses him with a flick of her wrist.

Audra is nodding vigorously while Onscreen Audra tilts her head comically far to the right. “That’s when I saw it,” she says. “They couldn’t find a modesty sock that fit you, Richie, remember? I didn’t have to fake that reaction. And that’s with them blasting the A/C on high so my nips would poke through my shirt.” She nudges Eddie’s shin gently and stage-whispers, “Well done.”

Eddie growls hot miso breath into Richie’s neck. Snarls, really. That’s the only word for it. Richie’s not embarrassed—he’s been telling people about his donkey schlong for years, not his fault nobody ever believes him. It’s a boy who cried wolf situation, perhaps, if the boy was actually telling the truth every time and just wanted to brag to everyone about seeing a really big, thick wolf.

“Honey,” Bill says, visibly distressed, “this is already weird enough for me, please don’t say nips.”

“Nips, nips, nips.” Audra tickles into Bill’s ribs, and Richie joins in the chant, they all do. It’s a hailstorm of sesame toast raining on Big Bill’s protesting head. “Stiff nips! Stiff nips!”

“Shut up, I’m, uh’wanna see Rich fuck!” Eddie roars, wrestling the couch cushions for the remote and stabbing the volume obscenely loud.

Moans fill the air. Rice sprays from Mike’s mouth, between his hasty fingers. Patty is laughing so hard into Stan’s shoulder Richie would be kinda worried about her, if he wasn’t so distracted by the way Eddie’s leaning forward, hand on Richie’s thigh and eyes locked to Onscreen Richie’s bare bucking hips. He remembers this part horrible and clear, preserved behind glass in his mind like the embarrassing ninth grade school photo his mom still won’t remove from the mantelpiece. Braces like train tracks and his eyes squinted up small and moleish because his mom said she wanted to see his handsome face without his glasses for once. Eddie laughed at it for five whole minutes the first time Richie brought him up to visit mom and dad as his—as his, at last, before snapping a careful picture of the photo with his phone and muttering, so cute.

It’s the noises.

“This was the day I learned women really can, uh, fake orgasms,” Richie says. He coughs. Eddie’s fingers tighten on his thigh and he looks back at Richie over his shoulder, eyes all drunk and dark and dilated like a shark’s to the backdrop of Onscreen Richie and Audra’s plastic din. Richie’s head thumps dizzily, sliding his hand secret under Eddie’s shirt to the damp small of his back, watching his neck go pink. This, now this is familiar from 90s movie nights, how sweaty they’d get, tangled together like pocketed earbuds the longer the VHS spun. Always on the same couch by unspoken agreement, kicking and left to do so by the others, like the clubhouse hammock flirting was more RichieandEddie status quo than behaviour tethered to any one location. Feeling your heartbeat in your ears and everywhere your limbs are shoved between another sapling boy-body, and the couch.

Richie can see exactly what Eddie’s thinking, in that darkness. That’s not how you sound in bed with me.

“This is revolting,” says Stan, mildly, but Richie holds up his hand like a stop sign, pulled roughly back to the present.

“Wait, wait, here comes my line!”

“Thought you said it was a non-speaking—”

The camera cuts from Onscreen Audra’s bouncing breasts to Onscreen Richie’s slack-jawed face, his ill-conceived soul patch. He was asked to remove his glasses for the scene, he remembers, and was glad of it, feeling useless and young and stupid and exposed enough already just by virtue of needing the money, he didn’t need to see this perfectly nice and reasonable actress pity him for not even knowing how to pretend at being with a woman. Onscreen Richie tilts his chin up, and Bill’s entire rec room holds its breath. There will be bruises on Richie’s thigh tomorrow.

A grunt, a groan. An unsubtle trumpet fanfare musical cue on the soundtrack, but hey, neither of them ever claimed Bongo Smugglers was a masterpiece. “¡Ay, chihuahua!”

Richie throws his arms up in triumph. “All my own improv, folks! And they kept it in the final cut!”

Eruption. He’s pelted with howls of disgust and prawn crackers. Eddie grabs one of his arms and just shakes him, ragdolls Richie’s laughing body around until he tips over and sprawls into Eddie’s lap, shielded from assault. Eddie chews his insistent teeth into Richie’s shoulder, and finally, the scene ends with Onscreen Richie leaping a naked escape from Onscreen Audra’s balcony.

“Worst,” Eddie mumbles against Richie’s nape. “Worst thing’ve ever seening m’life.”

He’s so drunk, sweet thing. Richie sits back up, still wheezing. He rests his cheek on Eddie’s shoulder and gazes starrily up at his plastered little face. Steel-cut jaw softened with laughter and stubble, un-gelled hair curling around like a chestnut lamb’s. “Worst ever-ever?”

“No,” Eddie says plainly, and that’s true, “but it’s up there. Woulda rented the shit out of this at Blockbuster.”

Richie flings his leg over Eddie’s knees, kicking Bill in the process. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Eddie agrees, gathering up all Richie’s loose ends in a big circling cuddle. “Every week. Woulda worn it out. Broke the disc.”

“Got your ‘Lil ‘Busters membership card revoked for being a creep.”

“Worth it.”

“Aw, Eddie-baby.”

“Would you two stop, you’re making the rest of us look bad,” Bev says, smiling fondly. The movie’s moved on, and none of them are really paying attention now that the main event’s over, but everyone’s still coming down, dismounting from belly-laughter and landing ankle-deep in giggles. “That was inspired.”

“He made me laugh so hard on that take,” Audra sighs, leaning against Bill. “I remember thinking, shame he’s a closet-case. I always knew you were a good guy under all that fake stand-up.” She rolls her head back on her neck to look at Richie, upside down. “D’you remember right after, too?”

“Ah,” says Richie, tensing up. Eddie must feel it, because he makes a lowing noise of concern and turns the volume down.

“What you did to those guys?”

“Ahaha, uh.” Richie struggles to sit upright with hot embarrassment tugging at his stomach. “They don’t need to—Audra, it’s not, anyone would’ve done the same—”

“No, actually, you were the only one who ever did,” Audra says, sharp-eyed, and Richie remembers that too. How much surer and in control of herself she was than him, even back then, when they were both just simple bottom-feeders on L.A.’s sludgy floor.

“What happened?” Patty asks. They’re all looking. Richie stares at the wall beside the TV’s garish over-saturation, scratches at the back of his neck, until Eddie takes his hand softly back to hold in his.

“I was pretty much always the only woman on set,” Audra explains. “Par for the course on a movie like that, it was whatever. It’s nothing like real sex, obviously, you have to stop and wait for lighting changes, new set-ups and stuff, you’re surrounded by crew. But you’re the only ones naked, and pretending to fuck, right? It can be a little.” She pulls a face, tilts her palm back and forth. “Degrading.”

Richie snorts, humorlessly.

“Anyway, that scene wrapped and they called cut, and a few of the guys in the crew said some stuff. About me. The director ignored it, the producer ignored it. I was used to it,” Audra says. Richie can see the edge of Bill’s jaw clench and re-clench like a fist as he watches his wife speak. Audra smiles widely, then, and jerks a thumb at Richie. “But this guy?”

They’re grinning, they’re all grinning, because they know him. Richie squirms under it. He can feel blood pounding behind his ears, across the surface of his scalp in pulsing waves of embarrassed heat, because it’s one thing to spend your life running your big fat Trashmouth to distract the bullies’ attention onto you, but it’s another for people to treat you like some kinda hero for it. Like it’s not just something friends do.

Bev’s eyes go all emerald-shiny with delight, like the quarry in sunlight. She covers her mouth. “Oh, Richie.”

“Knocked the first one out cold,” Audra crows. “You tried your best after that. It was three against one and he had a black eye before the rest of us could separate them, but he had the element of surprise at first. I mean, he flew at them, if you can imagine it—you’re what, six-one, six-two?”

Eddie’s trembling ever-so-slightly against him. Richie screws his eyes shut. “Six-two.”

“No wonder the asshole shit himself, you came at him all six-foot-two naked inches, pissed as hell, with a massive—”

“Alright!” Richie yelps, because if there’s anything more embarrassing than his brief Bongo Smugglers cameo, it’s the fact that he left set that day with a black eye and no money. Who cares. His closest friends are alive and they’re cheering, and Eddie is shoving himself into Richie’s lap just like it’s movie night in 1991 but with 100% more enthusiastic frenching, seating his drunk ass in Richie’s startled hands and hissing god, you’re such a crazy dumbass, I love you so much, Richie, even back then with that soul-patch I’d have loved you so much, god, sexy, Rich, wanna see you with a black eye, can I give you one, can you give me one, Richie, I’m gonna fuck you so good for this later, ay chihuahua—!

#long post #once again i did not mean to write over 2k about fake sex comedy Bongo Smugglers (2002) when i started answering this message #reddie #ficlet #bongo smugglers

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justformyself2 · 3 years

Text

Notting Hill ³

Hi guys!!. I'm back, not by popular demand hehe. Well, at least I'm not showing up empty-handed. Hope you enjoy it and if you did please let me know. Yes, it gives me motivation.

This is my participation on my friend’s @lullabieswrappedinlies Rom-Com writing challenge (go check her out, she is so damn creative and amazing). This story is based on the movie Notting Hill and will be added to my MASTERLIST.

"You don't want to talk about it?"

The 'narrow eye move' does not affect people such as Alexis, who remains leaned on the counter, gazing at you from above for the past ten minutes.

She huffed low and kept going. "It's okay if you want to talk about it."

"Alexis... I just want to take care of my store. I want to sit here till it's time to receive Agnes and five more women who will try to make me do coffee runs for them and then, hopefully, or not, I will sell a book or two before Kirk comes in to try to steal something, then I want to close, go home, lay down on my bed and think about the fact that I might go broke somewhere in the next three months."

"Kirk is at it again? Shit, I thought he fled after trying to steal from the stalls."

"He let the beard and hair grow a lot, lost weight, most people still don't know is him, yet, but I'm on it."

Her eyebrows raised and rested.

"Well, if you can prepare for the thieves you can definitely prepare for when-."

You take a long audible breath, rearranging the bills scattered, which made Alexis retrieve for a moment.

"He is not coming. He can be an asshole, but he is not as audacious as Kyle."

There was a hint of confidence flourishing inside your chest, although Alexis's persistence kept accelerating.

"He is famous, that makes you gain some audacity, thinking that it will allure people into doing what you want. I'm just saying, I'm here for you."

"Well, thanks. Did you talked to Kyle yet?"

"Fuck no! He can rot in hell for all I care about. That night was a disaster! The son of a bitch suddenly showing up."

You watch her squeeze her left thumb inside the other palm, harshly, before you shove the pile of bills under the glittery paperweight.

"Did he suddenly realized he wanted to be a father after ten years?"

She lets out a bitter chuckle.

"Appear at my front door with the most ridiculous, bushy mustache, like he just came out of a seventies porno." She huffs aggressively, archiving the blended expression of disgusted and angry.

"I couldn't even recognize him."

"Well, it's been years." You reminisce. " Did you really thought you could avoid it? At some point-."

An, almost discreet, movement next to the shelves interrupts the conversation.

The tired creak of the wooden floor exposed Nova, purposely or not. Judging by the posture shown seemed calculated. She had both hands inside the red apron, combined with a hint of annoyance spread on her features, very clearly portraited.

Alexis is dynamic, remaining natural regarding what her daughter could have listened to.

"Hey baby, are you ready to go?"

Nova sighs and her shoulders go down.

"No mom, I just arrived. What are you doing here?"

"I work next door, Nova."

"Still."

"Well, actually I wanted to take you all to eat something."

Cold lie, easy to spot, mainly because it was a fact that your sister hates to eat out, and that was why your niece's gaze, filled with doubt, was shot in your direction.

It didn't take a lifetime to recognize the type of moves, of which, Alexis would appeal for damage control. She needed to reassure her daughter, keep her on her side.

"She should have told him to go back the same path he came, but no, she just let him in." It was the following thing Nova said to you after arriving from school today, dropping her pink backpack into the ground behind the counter, followed by "I feel like she will accept him back at some point."

There was no remark on exactly when the pendulum of your niece's feelings towards Kyle became so stuck on the pure hatred side, although expected to happen at some point.

The complicated questions completely stopped at the thirteen. Alexis couldn't decide between relief or disbelief till browsing the history bar on the laptop while innocently- as she said- tried to find the recipe for cannolis and instead found Kyle's Facebook page, where he was incredibly active. There were photos, places, friends, trips, a lot of women, one of them Carly Raymond, his highschool sweetheart, who still had a perm.

There was nothing else for Nova to be curious about, and it is not your niece's fault technology was way easier to navigate for information than your sister was.

Alexis reacted cold, in the way you wouldn't expect, not actually trying to salvage the situation because a part of her would never forgive Kyle, the same part that wished Nova did the same.

"Was I supposed to lie to her? Make it worse, make her doubt me too? What he did is hateful, can I blame her? I was the one who always told me he would break her heart no matter what. He didn't even have to come here to do it, and do you think he is ashamed of all that crap online? Traveling, living his life around the world but not being able to come to see her, choosing this 'lifestyle' over here?"

"I know a good, quiet place, that opened down the street."

You ignited, but Nova kept the skeptical stare.

"Sounds great, come on Nov, get this apron off."

"Ok. We will have to talk at some point anyway."

You watch Nova give up, untying the apron behind her back, approaching the counter in slow steps, and leaving it there.

"That's my girl."

"Wait, I have to take something first."

Alexis watches her search inside her backpack as you got up from the chair, taking your sky blue Weichen wristband.

'Closed for lunch' in pink Sans Serif font as Nova made, was hanged on the inside of the glass door before you locked.

"Sorry for the inconvenience", advised to be added on by your niece was revoked by you since no one, not even Agnes would have felt inconvenienced by the closing. You still had the, sometimes, foolish hope of the weekends, when the streets would be fuller than now.

Leading the pace you could only hear Alexis's voice behind your back before you could spot the large Navy blue plaque of Ledbury restaurant and its crowded sidewalk, right next to Walmer Castle pub.

"Guys" You called. "There it is." You pointed front, towards the other side of the street, stopping on the sidewalk as the cars accelerated on the green light.

Turning around you capture your niece's smile as your sister whispered something in her ear. On Nova's hand, there was the same Smithsonian Magazine from this morning.

You forgot to tell Alexis about the way she sounded, reading on the drive to school an extended report about how brains are wired to capture and respond to emotions.

She held the magazine, folded in one hand while eating a Dairy Milk with the other, and in a very 'Alexis' tone discoursed: "Basically is just our brain responding to our way of thinking, even when we anticipate something in our minds. We don't even have to see it."

Your sister still whispered something towards Nova's ear, but the smile placed there died down as she looked, eyes wide, ping-ponging between you and something else that appeared to be amidst the crowd, standing on the other side. She pokes Alexis's arm with emergency.

Spreading as easy as the people starting to move again around you, the same tension, mirrored on their faces, irradiated on the pitch of your stomach right when sister's eyes went cold.

"Excuse-me." You hear, close to your right ear, remaining standing still.

"Oh, my God!" Another voice, a woman's voice as you can now notice as Alexis leaves Nova's side to grab your arm.

The woman's voice sounded alarmed and so does the beats of your heart as more people start murmuring.

"I can't believe it is him."

"Oh! Lord, it is Mike Levine."

Cars started to honk as the crossing street became fuller, and the crowd starting to form began to work as a magnet of more curiosity and obstacles, but Alexis's arm stood strong over your shoulders, navigating and crossing you to the other side.

You wished her arms were stronger than the temptation you blamed for making your back swerve.

There was a moment of not knowing what to expect till you came to realize expectations grew in a matter of seconds. There must be was a reason to want to look back at Mike Levine, surrounded by strangers all over, ungratefully creating an illusion of a time that didn't seem to pass.

He was still the same as you came to see once or twice in a free subscription magazine, but he wasn't plastic anymore.

#RomComWC #RCWC #John Krasinski #john krasinskixreader #john krasinski imagine #original story #mine #notthing hill #IMAGINE #fanfiction #fanfic #interative imagine

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noladyme · 4 years

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The Crown Princess of Charming - part 13

Welcome to Charming - its name says it all. Cat needed a fresh start; and though she hadn’t planned on that being in the arms of the crown prince of this little town’s bikerclub - that was what happened. Charming CA would either be the death of her - or a whole new life.

Rated M

Tags (let me know if you want on the list) @wonderlandfandomkingdom @edonaspanca

“I know you from somewhere…”, the bearded biker, who’s whiskey I’d stolen during my performance, said. I now noticed, he had a V. President patch on his cut. We were seated at a table in the clubhouse. Jax had placed me on his lap; hiding his erection from our tryst against the wall outside. “Yeah?”, I asked. “From where? Debonair?”. I’d danced at the club a few times; before quitting to teach full time. “Nah, my old lady would kill me”, the biker answered. “You a teacher?”. I cleared my throat. “Used to be”, I said; and took a swig of my beer. Jax rubbed my back; knowing it was a hard topic for me. “Still are… will be”, he said. “Where do your kids go to school, Mike?”. “Richardson”, Mike answered. “7’th and 8’th grade”.

I narrowed my eyes at my new acquaintance. “You’re… Harry’s dad”, I smiled. Mike nodded. “Yeah, that’s my boy. And you’re miss Rose”. “Cat”, I grinned. “Good to see you again”. We shook hands. “Small world”, the bearded biker smiled. “His grades have gone to shit, since you left”. “Well… I’m surprised he even maintained a B+ while I was there… he spent most his time looking up my skirt”. Mike laughed loudly. “Like father, like son”. “Tell him I said hi”, I smiled. “Will do”, Mike said. “Hey, why’d you leave?”.

I grimaced slightly. “Needed a fresh start… away from Chicago”. Mike looked from Jax to me, and smiled. “Seems you found it… though I never took you for the type, to end up an old lady for the Samcro VP”. I leaned back into Jax’s arms. “He’s not so bad”, I smiled; feeling Jacksons nose nuzzle my neck. “Except for the occasional road-rash I gotta patch up”. Mike took a swig of his beer. “Yeah, I heard you took a tilt, man. You good?”. “I’m fine”, Jax said. “Just a meth-head with a rifle. It’s good”. I frowned at the thought.

“You, uh… get that info you were after up north?”, Mike asked. Jax grimaced. “I got what I needed”, he muttered. “Good. Let me know if Chicago can do anything”, Mike said. “I gotta go call my old lady”. Mike left us for the door.

I chewed my lip. “Did you really get everything you needed?”, I said quietly. “I got enough”, Jax muttered. “Still need something to convince Clay”. “Like what?”. “I don’t know yet. But all this shit that’s been going on…”. He took a swig of my beer. “I got an ATF agent using my old lady to get to me; and Mayans moving in on our turf – angry that we’re moving drugs for white power”. “Mayans?”, I wondered. “Another club. Mexicans. The one’s we’ve been hauling for until now”. “Not anymore?”. He shook his head. “They’re pissed… don’t like our new racist partners…”. “I don’t blame them”, I muttered.

I sighed. “How do we end this?”, I asked. He stroked my cheek. “You don’t have to do anything”, he smiled. “I’m not putting you in harms way”. “Jax…”, I sighed. “Just, let me know if I can do anything. Please”. I kissed the corner of his mouth. “Right now, your job is making sure my boner isn’t on full display”, he grinned. I rolled my eyes. “Professional boner-hider”, I muttered. “You could be a boner-ender”, he chuckled; and bounced his legs a bit; making me rub against his lap. “What does that even mean?”, I said. Jax bit his lip; and smirked at me. “Come on”.

He patted my butt to get me to stand up; and pulled me in front of him – leading me down the hall to the makeshift gym; and closing the door behind us.

I spent the next 10 minutes on my knees; mouth full of Jax. It wasn’t a bad place to be.

---

For some reason; I wasn’t hungover the next morning; which worked out perfectly, as I needed to go in to town to pick up my phone.

Jax was splayed naked across the bed; and couldn’t help myself, but pinch his perfect ass-cheek. “I’m awake”, he groaned. “I’m gonna go pick up my phone”, I smiled. “There’s coffee on the pot; and your son will be home in an hour. We’re taking him to the doctor, remember?”. Jax let out a desperate sigh. “I feel like shit”, he said. “Advil on the counter. Toaster waffles in the freezer. Have at it”, I said; picking up my purse. “I love you”. “Love you”, Jax muttered into the pillow. I walked out into the hallway. “Don’t mix whiskey and tequila, next time”, I called after him. “Don’t offer body-shots, then!”, he croaked. I grinned, and left the house.

My phone was bright as new. They’d had to return to factory settings, so I spent a few minutes ion the car, setting it up to my liking. All former messages where gone. Joshua’s messages… I’d never have to deal with them again.

I picked up some groceries; smiling a hello at some hungover Chicago Sons hanging over their bikes outside the coffee shop – and was about to start my car; when my phone rang. “Hi, Cat. It’s Ally Lowen. Can I come by the house today?”. “Yeah, I guess… is there a problem?”, I asked. “No, I just have some paperwork for Jackson and you to sign. Guardianship over Jackson’s son”. My heart jumped. “Yeah… yeah, sure. Come by in an hour?”. “See you then”, Lowen said, and hung up.

I drove down the street with a wide smile; stopping at a red light. Suddenly someone knocked on my window; making me jump. Outside stood Darby; a menacing grin on his face. I pulled the .38 from my purse; and held it in my hand on my lap; as I rolled down the window. “What do you want?”, I snarled. “Relax, lady. I just need to get in touch with your old man”. I narrowed my eyes at him. “Come by the clubhouse…”, I smirked. “You know they’d kill me if I get within 100 yards of that place”, Darby sneered. “Like I said… come by the clubhouse”. Someone honked their horn behind me. The lights had turned to green. “Look, just have him call me”, Darby said; and threw a piece of paper at me. I revved the engine; and sped away.

Back at the house, Gemma was nursing a hungover Jax, by chiding him for mixing different kinds of drinks. “You know better, Jackson. I told you…”. “Yeah, I know, ma’”, Jax moaned. “Cat already had at me”. Gemma looked at me. “Good. Tell me how the doctor’s appointment goes”. “We will”, I smiled. “Jax, Lowen called. She’ll be by in 30 minutes. Papers to sign”.

Gemma frowned. “Trouble?”. Jax shook his head. “Nah”, he said. “They’re guardianship papers”. Gemma smiled broadly. “For Cat?”, she said. “Shit; that’s the best news I’ve heard in weeks”. Jax smiled slightly. “Yeah. It’s the right move”. I blushed.

Gemma kissed my cheek. “I’m happy”, she said. “For you and Abel”. She picked up her purse, and went to leave. “The baby is in the playpen. Once his father sobers up; maybe he can drive you to that appointment… otherwise; you drive!”. I smiled, and said goodbye.

Jax leaned back; and downed his coffee. “Am I still drunk, or are you looking more beautiful than usual?”. “You’re not getting out of this, Jax”, I said. “You ripped apart my favorite bra last night”. He pouted. “I’m sorry… I’ll buy you a new one”. I rolled my eyes.

“I met Darby…”, I muttered. Jax instantly tensed up. ”What did he do?”, he growled. “Nothing… he wanted to talk to you”. I handed him the piece of paper; which had a phone number written on it in a fast hand. Jax frowned. “I’ll call him… later”, he said quietly. “Make sure he doesn’t go near you again”. I smiled softly.

Jackson went into the living room; and picked up Abel. “Hey, my man. How you doing?”, he muttered. “Let me strew some wisdom on you. Don’t let a woman offer you body-shots, when you’re already neck deep in beer and whiskey”. He looked over his shoulder at me. “Sure, make it my fault”, I grinned. “Go get dressed. I’m not sure Lowen will be comfortable around you in just your boxers”. “I can put on my cut…”, Jax smirked. I frowned. “Pants, Teller!”.

He handed me Abel; and went to put on some clothes.

A little while later, we were once again seated at the kitchen table with Lowen. Jax was bouncing Abel on his shoulder. “These papers mean Cat can bring Abel to doctor’s appointments, right? Take care of him, if anything happens to me?”. I frowned at the thought. “Yes”, Lowen said. “She will have most of the same rights as a legal parent… Have you talked this over with your ex-wife?”. Jax shook his head. “Does she need to sign anything?”, he asked. “You have custody of Abel, so no”, the lawyer answered. “But she’s still his parent… she has legal rights”. Jax frowned. “If she sobers up; we’ll consider letting her have visitations”. I smiled slightly at him. He met my gaze and returned the gesture.

I ran a hand through my hair. “I know this isn’t why you’re here… but do you have any news of my case?”. “Nothing yet”, Lowen sighed. “They’re still stalling. But you should consider yourself a free woman. There’s no warrant for your arrest; and you’re not officially a suspect of murder”. “But Jax is?”, I asked. “Again, not officially”, she said. “For now, it seems all they have to go on is your self-defense story”. “Good”, I muttered.

Jax squeezed my hand. “We’ll be fine, babe”. Abel let out a slight cough again. “Sorry, we gotta take him to the doctor’s”. “Of course”, Lowen smiled. “If you’ll just sign these. I’ll get them filed right away”. She handed Jax a document and a pen; and he scribbled his signature on it. “You sign here”, Lowen said; and pushed the papers towards me. I wrote my name on the dotted line. Lowen packed up. “I’ll get going. Take care, and call me if anything comes up”. She let herself out.

Jax smiled at me warmly. “Thank you, Cat”, he said. “Thanks for taking on my boy like this”. I leaned over and kissed him. “Together, right?”. Jax laughed quietly, and nodded. “Let’s go get him checked out.

---

The doctor’s appointment was quick. Abel had nothing wrong with him but a small cold. He needed a little extra tlc, and to be kept warm; without moving into a fever. Jax seemed relaxed and happy on our drive home. “Let’s get coffee”, he said. “What?”, I said. “Like a family… let’s go get coffee; and hang out with our kid”. “Abel needs to rest”, I said. “He’ll rest, while we hang out at Gary’s”. “Ok”, I smiled.

The coffee-shop was mostly deserted, save for a few elderly patrons. It was the middle of the day; and most people were at work. Jax went up to the man behind the counter. “Hey, Gary!”, he smiled. “How’s your…”. “My mom’s fine”, Gary grinned. “Thanks… how’s your boy?”. “My mom’s been in here, huh?”, Jax chuckled. “She told me about his cough. Seemed worried”. “He’s good”, I said; Abel in my arms. “Just a cold”.

We sat down at a table. Jax texted Gemma to let her know Abel was all right; and we spent a few minutes enjoying our coffee; and holding hands. Jax took Abel from my arms; and held him against his chest. “You gonna call Wendy?”, I said quietly. “She’s at a rehab down south”, he muttered. “I’ll call her… promise”. I smiled and stroked his cheek. “Thank you…”, I said. “Why are you thanking me?”. I sighed. “Because you listened to me about her… and, I guess, for giving Abel a chance to know his mother”. Jax smiled slightly. “I love you”. Abel let out a cooing sound. “He agrees”. We laughed quietly together.

There was a rumbling of engines down the street; and Jax looked up. “Chicago leaving?”, I said. “No”, he said; looking at the bikers driving by. “We need to get home”. He stood up; and pulled my hand for me to follow.

Jax drove through two red lights to get us home. “What’s going on?”, I asked. Abel was fussing in the back seat, and I was worried. “Mayans”, Jackson muttered. “Once we get home, you get inside and lock the door. Don’t let anyone in, unless they’re club, Lyla or my mom. I’ll have Rat come over. He’ll stay until I get back. Keep your gun on your body”. “Jax…?”, I said. “It’ll be fine. Just do as I say”.

He pulled in to the driveway; and jumped out to get Abel from his seat. Handing me the baby; he kissed me deeply; and jumped on his bike. “Inside!”, he bellowed, and started up the engine. “Go!”. I ran inside with Abel; and locked the door behind me.

---

Rat came over 20 minutes later; looking over his shoulder. I let him in, and locked the door behind him. “What’s happening?”, I demanded. “I don’t know”, he answered. “Jax told me to stay put. Keep an eye on you”.

Abel was crying, and I paced the floor of the living room. “Can I get you anything?”, Rat asked. I felt Abel’s head. He was warm, but I didn’t think he had a fever. “Teething ring. Freezer”. Rat returned seconds later with the ring; and I put it to Abel’s mouth, to sooth the teething-pain. He began to settle down.

My smartphone rang. “Hello?”, I said. “Catherine… it’s agent Stahl”. “Ok, bye”, I snarled; about to hang up. “Catherine! Listen… Charming is full of Mexican bikers; can you tell me anything about that?”. “I don’t know; why don’t you ask them?”. “They don’t seem to want to talk…”. I hung up.

I paced the floor a few more seconds, before handing Rat the baby. “Can you put him down for a nap?”. Rat nodded, “Yeah… I have a little sister”, he muttered. “Good. Go”, I said.

Rat went into the nursery; and I called Jax up on my phone. “Cat?”. He sounded occupied. “Stahl called me. Asking about Mexicans”. “Shit… Look, it’s… not good”. “Lockdown again?”, I asked. “No… not yet. Just stay put”. “I will”. “I’ll be back when I can. Stay safe. Love you”. “Love you”. He hung up; and I sank into the couch.

Rat came back from the nursery. “He’s sleeping”. “Thanks”, I muttered. “If you’re hungry, grab something from the fridge”. Rat disappeared into the kitchen; and I sat down on the couch.

The burner phone was ringing in my purse. “Hello?” “Babe, it’s me”. “Jax; what’s happening?”. “Don’t use your phone when calling me”, Jackson said. “Cover it in towels and a trash-bag. Have Rat put it in your car”. “Why? What’s going on?”. “Just… please. Do it. Don’t talk”. My breath hitched in fear. I grabbed my android; and went into the kitchen – covering it in a kitchen towel; and throwing it into a bag. I handed it to Rat; mouthing the word car. He grabbed my keys from the counter; and went outside.

“It’s gone”, I said into the burner. “What’s going on?” “We think it’s been bugged”. “What?”, I said. “I just picked it up this morning!”. “The electronics store called TM yesterday. They didn’t know where else to reach you”, he said. “The guy said your phone looked weird inside; but that they’d put it together the way it was”. “Why didn’t anyone tell me?”. “Some crow-eater picked up the call”, he snarled. “She wrote it down; but was to drunk to tell you when we came to the clubhouse last night”. “Shit… Stahl… what did she hear?”. “Depends on where it’s been up until you broke it”. “I… always kept it with me”. I swallowed hard. “Jax… everything we talked about…” “I know, Cat”, he said. “Did you have it on you after Kohn…?”. “Yeah… in my purse mostly. Up until it broke. When would they have had a chance to mic it?”. “Maybe Kohn did it. Before you left Chicago. To keep an ear on you”. I felt sick… Josh had access to me for weeks… months. “I broke it once before. Had it fixed in a shop near my apartment”. “What store?” “Can’t remember. It was in Karlov Avenue…”. “I’ll have Mike make some calls. Stay put, babe” “I will…”. He hung up.

Bile rose in my throat; and I ran to the bathroom; throwing up violently into the toilet. Rat came to my rescue with a hairclip and a glass of water. He tied up my hair. “My mom would drink…”, he muttered. I was about to say something; before I had to lean over the toilet again – letting out another stream of bile. Once I’d finally stopped retching; I took the glass of water; and drank it all. “Thanks, Rat”, I muttered. “Can you… I need to brush my teeth”. He nodded; and left me alone.

I stood up; and grabbed my toothbrush – furiously brushing my teeth to remove the taste of sick in my mouth. I looked in the mirror. You’re never leaving me… You’ll always be here… screwing up my life.

I let Rat know I was going to try to get some rest; and went into the bedroom – closing the door behind me; and turning on the baby-monitor. The burner-phone was in my hand; and I crawled into bed, staring at it. After a while of hyperventilating; I more or less passed out, into a fitful sleep. I only woke some hours later; to crying sounds from the monitor.

I sprang into the nursery; to find Opie soothing Abel. Chibs was with him. “Where’s Jax?”, I whimpered. “What’s wrong? Why isn’t he here?”. I began sobbing. Chibs went over to put his arms around me. “It’s ok, my love. Jackson is fine”, he said soothingly; as I hiccupped against his shoulder. “He’s meeting up with Darby”. “What about the Mayans?”, I rasped. “What’s going on?”.

Chibs made me sit on the couch; arm around my shoulder. “Just a show of force, sweetheart. Nothing else”, he said. “We’re taking you to the cabin”, Opie said. “Why?”, I asked. “Clay and Jax wants you out of the reach of Stahl”, he answered. “She don’t know about that place”. I tried to calm my breathing. Opie continued bouncing Abel up and down gently; making the baby calm down. “Get your things. Enough for a few days”, Chibs said. I looked at Opie. “I got the baby”, he said.

I went back into the bedroom; Chibs following me with a backpack for my things. Throwing clothes and essentials into the bag – among those, the blue flannel – I pulled on my sneakers; and followed the scot outside. “My car?”, I said; reaching for the keys. “Leave it”, Opie said. “Rat’s taking your phone to the clubhouse to get checked out”. I nodded; and followed him into a van. Opie set Abel’s car-seat between us; and started the van; driving down the street. Chibs followed on his bike; and Tig and Happy came down the road to join our caravan.

---

We arrived at the cabin a few hours later. Opie carried Abel inside for me; and the others checked the perimeters for unwanted company. Opie grabbed a cooler from the van; and produced a sandwich and a thermos of coffee for me. “Lyla…”, he muttered. “You need to eat. Rat said you threw up”. “Yeah”, I whispered. “Cat… are you…”. “No, I’m still not pregnant”, I sneered. He looked down. “Sorry… I’m just…”. “I know”, he said. “I get it… Jax will be here as soon as he can”.

He went to check up with the others. “Opie?”, I called after him. He turned to face me. “Thank you…”. “Welcome”, he muttered; and a smile ghosted his face.

There wasn’t a cot for Abel in the cottage; so I made a makeshift border on the bed in one of the bedrooms – making sure he didn’t roll off it and hurt himself. He fell asleep quickly – tuckered out from the drive. I went back into the main room. It was too quiet; so I turned on the tv – needing any kind of sound to block out the silence. I put on The Goonies which was laying under the cover of Karate Kid; and sat down on the couch – staring into space.

A while later; Chibs came inside. “I sent Opie home to his kids. How are you holding up?”. I tried sending him a smile; but instantly fell into tears. The scot came over; and took me into his arms again. “Hey, hey… you’ll be fine… everything is fine”. He kissed the top of my head. “What’s happening?”, I croaked. “Did I get you all into trouble?”. “No, luv’”, he said. “No more than we already were”. “I’m so sorry”, I whimpered.

Chibs sighed; and pulled me to lean against him. “You know, I used to run with the IRA…”. “You?”, I sniveled. “Yup. Those people will slit you from neck to dick; if you so much as look in the direction of a cop”, he said. “This… you did nothing wrong. Even the army would be able to see that, if it was them you were hold up with”. I sighed. “I’ve been carrying a live mic with me on club grounds… having conversations about murders… I’m killing your club”. “The Sons never say die!”, Chibs smiled; and looked towards the screen, as a young Sean Astin was uttering the same words to his friends in the movie. I chuckled at his joke; feeling a little better.

Chibs sat with me for a while; before taking a call in the kitchen. “Jackie’s done with his meeting. He’s driving out now”. I exhaled in relief. Chibs sat back down, and lit me a cigarette. I took a deep draw from the smoke; and put my head on his shoulder. “You’re a good man, scottie”, I smiled. “Tell it to my ex”, he grinned.

---

I fell asleep against Chibs’ shoulder; waking up to the sound of Jax’s voice. “Hands of the goods, Chibby”, he grinned. I sprang of the couch, and into his arms. “You thought I wouldn’t come back? Trade me in for a brit?”. “Oy!”, Chibs barked. “I’m a free Scotsman!”. Jax chuckled. “I got her, man… thanks”. Chibs stepped over, and patted his shoulder. “You’re welcome, brother”. He went outside.

“Are you ok?”, Jax said; stroking a lock of hair out of my face. “I’m… what happened?”. Jax walked us over to the couch; sitting down. He took my hands. “Juice checked your phone. It was bugged”. I scrunched my face up in anger. “When?”. “Mike made some calls. The electronics store pulled up an old receipt. Someone payed extra to have it installed. They didn’t remember who; just that it was paid in cash. Looks like Kohn”. “He had me tapped for months… probably heard everything”, I said. “That’s how he knew about you. He listened to our calls”. Jax shook his head. “It’s more than that”, he said. “The bug picked up everything it heard. Not just calls”. “Shit… if Stahl has access to the receiver…”. Jackson clenched his jaw. “She does”, he muttered. “Lowen called while I was with Darby. Stahl sent her transcripts of the recordings from the motel. Warning us that she’s coming for us”. It was all coming to a head.

I stood up and began pacing the floor. “Oh my god… Jax, she knows everything!”. “She can’t prove it…”, he said. “She has recordings of everything we’ve ever said when my phone was in the room… She heard my fight with Kohn. Heard me telling you, he needed to die. The gunshot… Jax, she even heard us have sex a few days later!”. Jax sighed. “The recordings were made illegally. They won’t hold up in court, and she can’t arrest me yet”. “She can twist and turn it in her favor”, I said. “If she takes me in again… what if I can’t say the right thing? What if she gets something out of me, by making me say something she already knows?”.

He got up; and took a hold of my shoulders. “That’s why you’re here. We’re not letting her get to you”. “Clay…”, I whispered. “He’s on the same page. Knows it wasn’t your fault”. He pulled me into his arms. “Look… you’re safe here. And we’re safe as long as you stay here… away from her”. “How are you going to explain my disappearing?”, I asked. He shrugged. “You got scared. Split”, he said. “Abel… We just signed those papers”. “It got too intense for you. You couldn’t deal with it; and took off”. I let out a shaky breath, and buried my face in his chest. “I’m taking him back to Charming tomorrow morning. Leaving him with Gemma”. “And after?”, I asked. “I’ll be… searching for you up north. Stay in state, so they don’t put out an APB on me”. “You’re not staying here”, I whispered. “I’ll come back when I can, Cat”, he said; and kissed my forehead. “How long? We can’t do this forever”.

He smiled encouragingly at me. “Darby gave us the name of the prosecutor Ollie’s been working with”, he said. ”I think I know how to get us out of this”. I shook my head in wonder. “How?”, I asked. “I’m gonna see if I can make a deal”, he said. “Get us out of business with Nichols… the state prosecutor wants him; and we’re gonna give him to them”. “What does that have to do with Stahl?”, I frowned.

He sighed. “Sit down, babe. This is gonna be a long one”. He pulled out a chair for me; and I sat down across from him. “Stahl wants to kill the club, through me. She get’s me on murder; she can pull RICO on us; pull out all old charges; and run them again”. “She did set you up”, I said. Jax nodded. “ATF has been hounding Darby’s business as well – but they’re lower grade than us. Stahl contacted him… let him know he could avoid being charged, if he agreed to lending a hand to a federal agent; with his case”. “His case…”, I said quetly. “Stahl put Kohn in contact with Darby”, Jackson confirmed. “I can’t say for sure that she knew, Kohn was going to use Darby to drug you, but I wouldn’t put it past her”. I scoffed. “So that bullshit about Kohn calling him on his own accord…”. “Just that… bullshit”. “And the motel? Stahl told Darby where I was, so you’d go after us… Kill Joshua”. “Darby was pissed she hadn’t told him he’d be going after a Samcro old lady”, Jax snarled. I smiled sarcastically. “And she apologized by giving him the address of the motel”, I sneered. Jax nodded. “That thundercunt was using all of us…”.

Jax swallowed. “With Darby’s info; we have proof that she set me up for murder… but it doesn’t change the fact that I did it”. He bit his lips. “If I can make a deal with the prosecutor; go away on something else…”. My breath hitched. “What are you talking about; going away?”, I said. He looked down. “Clay wants to keep moving drugs… but he’s more concerned about reputation than money – and the way Nichols went behind our backs; got that Nord killed, and dumped him on us, to start shit…”. “He believes that?”, I asked “Darby more or less confirmed it. Said Nichols had been looking for a reason to move in on us… he gave white-power green light to go for his cousin. Said he screwed his ex”.

I was confused. “So… Darby agreed to have his cousin-brother killed… dumped him on you… to have a reason for the alt-right to move in on you? Why?”. “He wanted free range to deal. Nichols promised to help… broke that promise, when he decided to use us as mules”. “And the Mayans?”, I said. “They’re just pissed. They still wanna deal with us; but not before we get Nichols out of the picture”.

“So Clay gets to keep the drugs…”, I muttered. “For now…”, Jax said. “Look, the club runs for them for a few years… keep it safe. I’ll work on getting us out, when I come back”. “From where?”, I whispered. Jax looked down. “I’m gonna have to give the prosecutor something, besides Nichols… I need to go inside”. “Prison?”, I whimpered. “I’ll make a good deal, Cat… It won’t be long”. My chin began trembling. “No… you can’t do that, Jax!”, I said; tears running down my cheeks. “Please…”. He took my hands. “It will be fine… I’ll be fine”. “They’re taking you away for murder!”, I yelled. “No, they’re not”, he said. “The evidence against me won’t hold; Stahl knows that. Anything I give the state prosecutor will override what she thinks she has, and be seperate from her RICO-case… I’ll make sure you are kept out of it. You don’t get charged due to self-defense; and I go in on some other charges… muling; possession… something. In return; we hand the prosecutor Nichols”.

I closed my eyes. “How long?”, I asked; tears still staining my cheeks. “I don’t know, yet”, Jax muttered. “I’m meeting with Lowen tomorrow… Cat… this is the only way”. I opened my eyes again. “Ok…”, I whispered. He squeezed my hands. “You are the most amazing woman I’ve ever met. I love you; and I will do anything to keep you and our boy safe”. He smiled. “This is it, for me. You are…”. He kissed my knuckles. “I’m going to make sure Stahl never touches you again. The alt-right will disappear from Charming, once Nichols is gone. He’s the one with the pull there… We can move on with our lives”.

I took a deep breath. “I’ll take care of Abel… however long until you come back… he’ll know…”. I began sobbing again. Jax stood up; and walked around the table to pull me into his arms. “I know… I love you”. “Say it again”, I muttered. “I love you, Cat… Marry me”.

I pulled back. “What?”. “Marry me”, he repeated. I shook my head. “You’re doing this now? While I’m on the run, and you’re getting ready to go to prison?”. “No better time”, he smiled. “You’re the one…”. I sniveled. “You gonna pull out a violin orchestra, and a thousand red roses, prince Charming?”, I chuckled. He grinned. “Smartass”, he laughed. “Just give me an answer”.

“Sure…”, I muttered. He raised a brow at me. “Sure…?”, he said. “Yes!”, I smiled. “When you’re back… I’ll marry you”. Jax face lit up; and he let out a relieved laugh. “Cat…”. He pulled flush against him; and kissed me deeply – only coming up for air; when Happy, Tig and Chibs came into the cabin.

“What’s happening?”, Chibs said. “We’re getting married”, Jax grinned. “To each other?”, Tig asked. “Idiot…”, Happy muttered; and stepped over to grab the both of us in a bearhug.

Chibs and Tig joined in on the hugging. “When?”, Chibs asked. Jax grimaced; and looked at me. “After… we have something to finish first”.

Jax spent the night over; under; and – most importantly – inside me. After everything we’d discussed, it was a bittersweet union. At one point; I even shed a few tears – Jackson kissing them away for me. “I love you”, he whispered; as he thrusted into me; making me shatter beneath him. “I love you”, I replied; once I could speak again. “Always”.

---

The next morning, Jax kissed me goodbye. Opie arrived with the van; letting Jax drive his son back to Charming in it – he himself riding on Jax’s bike. Happy was babysitting me – again – and Tig and Chibs joined their brothers on their trek back home.

“Karate Kid?”, Happy asked. “I was watching The Goonies last night… fell asleep before it finished”. Happy’s face lit up. “Yes! Jerk alert!”. I grinned; and sat down to watch the movie with him. “Don’t fall asleep on my shoulder”, Happy muttered. “Jax said he’d break my arm".

I spent the morning nervously checking the burner-phone every chance I got. At around noon; Happy took it from me. “He’ll call when he can”. He put it in his pocket. “I’ll let you know. You need to chill”. He realized before I did, that my constant looking at the phone, was stressing me out. “Sorry…”, I muttered. “Wanna play Uno?”, he asked. I frowned. “I hate Uno…” “Me too”, Happy grinned.

He served me eggs and bacon for lunch – this time with a salad on the side. “Why don’t you have an old lady?”, I asked him, as we ate. “I did… she died”. “I’m sorry”, I said. “Don’t be. She was a bitch. Stole my tarantula”. That was that conversation.

In the afternoon, I was going stir crazy. I stepped outside to get some air. Happy followed; and began throwing rocks at the birds in the trees. “Got one!”, he smiled; as one of the birds fell to the ground. “Happy… birds are our friends”, I said. He frowned. “They’re spies for the government”, he declared.

My burner rang in his pocket. He picked it up. “Yeah…?”, He looked at me. “Still alive, in spite of the birds… yeah, ok. I’ll tell her”. He snapped the phone shut. “Clay… they’re coming up here tomorrow. All of them”. “Jax?”, I said. “Still at his meeting. Be here with the others”. I nodded.

We watched Gremlins – 1 and 2 – before I finally gave in to boredom; and decided to turn to alcohol. Playing Never have I ever… with Happy, turned out to be a terrifying ordeal; and I went to bed early; cuddling up in Jax’s blue flannel. For some reason; his scent never left it. Sharp mint; and musky leather – with a side of indescribable Jax.

I fell asleep to the sound of Happy laughing at Bill and Ted’s Excellent Adventure.

---

I woke up at dawn; Happy still deep in his 80’s marathon. “Do you ever sleep?”, I asked with a raspy voice, as I sipped at my coffee. “About twice a week”, he answered. “I don’t like it. Nightmares”. “Birds?”, I said. “Everywhere…”, he said; voice gravelly.

I chowed down on some cereal; and went to have a smoke outside. Happy once again followed – refraining from rock-throwing this time. “You’re a good old lady”, Happy muttered. “Whatever happens these next few days, we got your back”. “Thanks”, I smiled.

There was a rumbling of engines from down the gravel road. Happy sprang up; and got in front of me – gun at the ready. Recognizing his brothers; he stood down. Clay, Bobby, Piney and Tig got off their bikes; and joined us in front of the cabin. Piney gave me a short hug. “How’s my old place treating you this time?”, he smiled. “You’ve got a pretty bad-ass movie library”, I said. “Yeah… I bring the kids up. Show them the classics”.

We went inside. Someone made a fresh pot of coffee; and soon we were gathered around the table. Clay lit a cigar. “Jax has a meeting with Lowen this morning”, he grumbled. He didn’t look happy. “Wasn’t he with her yesterday?”, Bobby asked. “They’re meeting with the state prosecutor…”. He looked towards me. “We have something coming up, brothers. You won’t like it”. Tig frowned. “What’s going on, man?”. Clay sighed. “I’ll let Jax fill you in. All you need to know right now, is that we’re working on a plan to get ATF off our asses completely… We set up chapel here when everyone arrives”. His eyes met mine. “You’re invited”.

#jax teller x oc #jax teller fic #jackson teller #jax teller #jackson teller fic #soa #sons of anarchy fic #sons of anarchy

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