#but the one big reason to keep them is the governor general can kick out the PM if needed

[dsabian]

I do not understand how this can happen once. But now it's happened twice.

Just an fyi, it's not just america that's going to suffer for the next four years. I'm Australian and I never felt closer to WWIII than when trump was in last time.

Is it sexism? Is that what got him over the line?

Whatever.

Right now, this minute (unless it's bed time in america idk) I want those of you with morals to start working toward the presidency. Every one of you. I don't care about your age, gender, sexuality, ethnicity. If you think ppl should have bodily autonomy, if you think grabbing women Anywhere without their permission is bad, if you think every one of your citizens should be treated equally, if you think war is very bad and there's always a better solution, then start working toward the white house. Flood the options with good ppl. If the only politicians available in four years are those with ethics, then your incredibly weird way of voting won't matter anymore.

Basically, the next four years are what they are. Focus on what comes next.

[titan-fodder]

Pyroclastic (Mike Zacharias x Reader)

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

Not dead; just waking up.

Rating: E (explicit)

Word Count: ~19.5K

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

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

Enjoy~

GLOSSARY

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

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

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

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

*definitions taken from USGS website

4  Y E A R S  B E F O R E 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why’d you make him sound Russian?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Great. The boy scout’s here.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hey, Mike, what’s up?” You greet.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And?”

Moblit is quiet for a beat too long.

“Mobs, what is it?” 

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

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

“And, in the others?” 

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

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

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

And then, it stops. 

“Why did it…”

“Just watch,” Moblit shushes you. 

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

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

“Was that…” 

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

"Supereruption."

3  Y E A R S  B E F O R E

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

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

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

“I don’t see anything,” you say.

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

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

“Then why aren’t they here?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Not really. Survive, I guess." 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

2  Y E A R S  B E F O R E

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Which one was that?” Zachary asks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Small,” Nile scoffs.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Lunchtime soon, right?”

“Yeah, in a bit—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Trail Closed

Road Closed

Danger: Keep Out

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

Fourteen casualties. Twenty-nine injured.

That’s what it took.

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

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

Not dead; just waking up.

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

“Exhausted.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Explosions. Falling rocks.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You can’t imagine anything does.

1  Y E A R  B E F O R E

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Embarrassing, is what it is." 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Stop."

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

"You're thinking things, though."

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

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

"Hange!" 

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

"How dare you. I am nothing like—"

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

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

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

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

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

*

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

Not the way you are here.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"So are you."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

6  M O N T H S  B E F O R E 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Yes," Erwin answers first. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Levi..."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“We—”

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

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

Quite possibly. 

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

But, that is not the case. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Two for Washington D.C.”

“And, two for Bergen, Norway.”

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

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

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

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

“Yeah.”

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

S I X  W E E K S  B E F O R E

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

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

And, the owners have definitely prepared. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Tch." 

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

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

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

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

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

"How long did you work together?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

*

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hey,” you start.

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

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

“But, you miss the park,” he says.

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

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

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

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

“Yeah?”

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

“What?”

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

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

“Guess they don’t know us very well.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Maybe so…” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh, fu—”

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

“Mike—Mike—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Mike’s brow creases. “You’re sure?”

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

“Holy…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Where do you want me?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Except maybe a supereruption, of course. 

E - D A Y 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

1  M O N T H  A F T E R

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Need something, baby?”

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

“You sure?”

“Mhm,” you nod. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You snort and shake your head. “Dummy.”

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

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

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

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

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

4  Y E A R S  A F T E R

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Well, you have shit taste, too.”

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

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

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

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

Is what remains of Yellowstone.

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

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

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

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

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

“Right.”

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

[mostlysignssomeportents]

The future is symmetrical

When Mitch Kapor articulated the principle that “architecture is politics” at the founding of EFF, he was charging technologists with the moral duty to contemplate the kinds of social interactions their technological decisions would facilitate — and prohibit.

At question was nothing less than the character of the networked society. Would the vast, pluripotent, general purpose, interconnected network serve as a glorified video-on-demand service, the world’s greatest pornography distribution system, a giant high-tech mall?

Or could it be a public square, and if so, who would have the loudest voices in that square, who would be excluded from it, who will set its rules, and how will they be enforced?

As with its technical architecture, the political architecture of the net is a stack, encompassing everything from antitrust enforcement to spectrum allocation, protocol design to search-and-seizure laws, standards to top-level domain governance.

Among those many considerations is the absolutely vital question of service delivery itself. What kinds of wires or radio waves will carry your packets, who will own them, and how will they be configured?

For decades, a quiet war has been fought on this front, with two sides: the side that sees internet users as “mouse potatoes,” destined to passively absorb information feeds compiled by their betters; and the “netizen” side that envisions a truly participatory network design.

This deep division has been with us since the internet’s prehistory, at least since the fight over Usenet’s alt.* hierarchy, flaring up again during the P2P wars, with ISPs insisting that users were violating their “agreements” by running “servers.”

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2019/11/altinteroperabilityadversarial

Above all, this fight was waged in the deployment of home internet service. The decision turn the already-monopolistic cable and phone operators into ISPs cast a long shadow. Both of these industries think of their customers as passive information consumers, not participants.

As an entertainment exec in William Gibson’s 1992 novel Idoru describes her audience: “Best visualized as a vicious, lazy, profoundly ignorant, perpetually hungry organism craving the warm god-flesh of the anointed. Personally I like to imagine something the size of a baby hippo, the color of a week-old boiled potato, that lives by itself, in the dark, in a double-wide on the outskirts of Topeka. It’s covered with eyes and it sweats constantly. The sweat runs into those eyes and makes them sting. It has no mouth…no genitals, and can only express its mute extremes of murderous rage and infantile desire by changing the channels on a universal remote. Or by voting in presidential elections.”

Contrast this with the other cyberpunk archetype, the console cowboy who doesn’t merely surf the digital, but steers it — the active participant in the technological/media environment who is more than a recipient of others’ crafted messages.

For a long time, Big Tech and Big Telco tried to have it both ways. AT&T promoted teleconferencing and remote family life conducted by videophones in its 1993 “You Will” marketing campaign. Youtube exhorted you to “broadcast yourself.”

But AT&T also set data-caps, kicked users off for running servers, and engaged in every legal, semi-legal and outright illegal tactic imaginable to block high-speed fiber networks.

Youtube, meanwhile, blocked interoperability, leveraged vertical integration with Google search to exclude and starve competitors, and conspired with Big Content to create a “content moderation” system that’s two parts Kafka, one part Keystone Kops.

https://pluralistic.net/2020/12/12/fairy-use-tale/#content-id

While the questions raised by broad participation in networked society are thorny and complex, one question actually has a very simple and factual answer: “How should we connect our homes to the internet?” The answer: “Fiber.”

There is no wireless that can substitute for fiber. Wireless — 5G, Starlink, whatever — shares the same spectrum. We can make spectrum use more efficient (by tightly transmitting the wireless signals so they don’t interfere), but physics sets hard limits on wireless speeds.

Each strand of wire in a wired network, by contrast, is its own pocket universe, insulated from the next wire, with its own smaller, but exclusive, electromagnetic spectrum to use without interfering with any other wire on the other side of its insulation.

<img src=”https://craphound.com/images/broadband_comparison.jpeg" alt=”EFF’s broadband comparison chart, showing the maximum speeds of 4G (100mb), DSL (170mb), 5G (10gb), cable (50gb) and fiber (100tb).”>

But copper wire also has hard limits that are set by physics. The fastest theoretical copper data throughput is an infinitesimal fraction of the fastest fiber speeds. Fiber is millions-to-hundreds-of-millions times faster than copper.

https://www.eff.org/wp/case-fiber-home-today-why-fiber-superior-medium-21st-century-broadband

We should never run copper under another city street or along another pole. Any savings from maintaining 20th century network infrastructure will be eradicated by the cost of having to do twice the work to replace it with 21st century fiber in the foreseeable future.

Trying to wring performance gains out of copper in the age of fiber is like trying to improve the design of whale-oil lamps to stave off the expense of electrification. Sure, you don’t want anyone sitting in the dark but even the very best whale-oil lamp is already obsolete.

But besides future-proofing, there’s another reason to demand fiber over copper or wireless: symmetry. Our copper and (especially) wireless infrastructure is optimized for sending data to end-points, not getting data back. It’s mouse-potato broadband.

(this is especially true of any satellite broadband, which typically relies upon copper lines for its “return path,” and even when it doesn’t, has much slower uplinks that downlinks)

By contrast, fiber tends to be symmetrical — providing the same download and upload speeds. It is participatory broadband, suited for a world of distance ed, remote work, telemedicine, and cultural and political participation for all.

Fiber is so obviously better than copper or wireless that America paltry fiber rollouts needed to be engineered — they never would have happened on their own. The most critical piece of anti-fiber engineering is US regulators’ definition of broadband itself.

Since the dawn FCC interest in universal broadband, it adopted a technical definition of broadband that is asymmetrical, with far lower upload than download speeds. Despite lockdown and broadband-only connections to the outside world, Congress is set to continue this.

The latest iteration of the Democrats’ broadband bill defines “broadband” as any connection that is 100mb down and 20mb up (“100/20”). Both of these speeds paltry to the point of uselessness, but the upload speed is genuinely terrible.

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2021/07/future-symmetrical-high-speed-internet-speeds

US broadband usage has grown 21%/year since the 1980s. 100/20 broadband is inadequate for today’s applications — let alone tomorrow’s (by contrast, fiber is fast enough to last through the entire 21st century’s projected broadband demand and beyond, well into the 2100s).

Any wireless applications will also depend on fiber — your 5G devices have to be connected to something, and if that something is copper, your wireless speeds will never exceed copper’s maximum speeds. Innovation in spectrum management requires fiber — it doesn’t obviate it.

Today, the highest growth in broadband demand is in uploads, not downloads. People need fast uploads speeds to videoconference, to stream their games, to do remote work. The only way a 100/20 copper network’s upload speeds can be improved is by connecting it with fiber.

Every dollar spent on copper rollout is a dollar we’ll forfeit in a few years. It’s true that cable monopolists will wring a few billions out of us if we keep making do with their old copper, but upgrading copper just makes the inevitable fiber transition costlier.

China is nearing its goal of connecting 1 billion people to fiber. In America, millions are stuck with copper infrastructure literally consisting of century-old wires wrapped in newspaper, dipped in tar, and draped over tree-banches.

https://mn.gov/commerce-stat/pdfs/frontier-service-quality-report-final.pdf

Indeed, when it comes to America, monopoly carriers are slowing upload speeds — take Altice, the US’s fourth-largest ISP, which slashed its upload speeds by 89% “in line with competitors’ offerings.”

https://pluralistic.net/2021/06/27/immortan-altice/#broadband-is-a-human-right

America desperately needs a high-fiber diet:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/03/30/fight-for-44/#slowpokes

But it has a major blockage: the American right, who have conducted history’s greatest self-own by carrying water for telecoms monopolists, blocking municipal fiber:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/01/17/turner-diaries-fanfic/#1a-fiber

It’s darkly funny to see the people who demanded that “government stay out of my internet” now rail against monopoly social media’s censorship, given that a government ISP would be bound by the First Amendment, unlike Facebook or Twitter.

Luckily, Congress isn’t the only place where this debate is taking place. In California, Governor Newsom has unveiled an ambitious plan to connect every city and town to blazing-fast fiber, then help cities and counties get it to every home.

https://pluralistic.net/2021/05/15/how-to-rob-a-bank/#fiber-now

In tech circles, we use the term “read-only” to refer to blowhards who won’t let you get a word-in edgewise (this being one of the more prominent and unfortunate technical archetypes).

The “consumer” envisioned by asymmetrical broadband futures is write*-only — someone designed to have other peoples’ ideas crammed into their eyeballs, for their passive absorption. A consumer, not a citizen.

As Gibson put it, it’s a person who “can only express its mute extremes of murderous rage and infantile desire by changing the channels on a universal remote.”

Cyberpunk is a warning, not a suggestion.

[phati-sari]

IPKKND 10-year anniversary Instagram Live

You can watch it here or here. I kinda live-blogged it.

Lol at Abhaas struggling with the filters.

Oh no, Dalljiet dropped out! Oh, she’s back.

Is Barun wearing a white kurta on purpose? 

(Edited 36 minutes into the video: I don’t think he would even remember the white kurta lol)

This is so chaotic. Sanaya’s trying to keep them all on track and failing miserably.

Abhaas: *mentions Balwant Kaur*

Barun: Main tere ko mukha maar doon?

Aww, that made me a little sad, that he can’t actually deny the journalists when they ask the same three inane questions over and over and over again. He still sang it though.

LOL Abhaas just straight-up acknowledging that the fans wouldn’t have tuned in without Barun and Akshay. 

Abhaas: “Blame the gram, don’t blame the host.”

Barun: “Main toh chingum dhoond raha hoon yaar.” I laughed so hard I had to rewind it.

Ngaw, poor Akshay. I super respect the way he’s come out and gone on record about exactly how unhappy he was with how it all turned out.

I love how surprised Sanaya was!

Abhaas: *mentions that he met Dalljiet last*

Sanaya: Really?!?!

Dalljiet: Muhn maar raha tha mera husband kahin aur, muhn kala kar raha tha. Wahan shoot pehle hui thi! Ghar toh baad mein aaya na?

Barun: Haan phir dara hua tha main, helicopter mein kabhi baitha nahin tha! ... Pehla din seedha helicopter mein daal diya ... Main bahut pareshan, ki main toh middle-class Delhi ka aadmi hoon, mere ko helicopter mein bitha ke karenge kya?

Oh I remember this!! They hired a Toyota RAV4 Fortuna for Lucknow and then had Arnav in the other white cars with the badge covered as if no-one would notice. He’s right, they would’ve had him on a moped had the serial continued lol.

I’ve often made jokes about how the passenger-side seat-belt was probably broken given how much Khushi struggled with it -- nice to know the car was just a piece of crap.

Ahh, they’re talking about their entries. I do so very much love the way Arnav and Shyam were introduced.

I laughed very hard at how quickly Akshay said “Never!” to doing another show. I’m on that boat right there with him lol, may these people never act together again!

Nggaaawww. Barun saying Akshay’s exit scene was the first time the director was telling them not to cry, whereas at other times he was always told to cry more.

As a side note, I love that Aman and Lalit were named after the directors. It was a nice touch and I try to preserve it in my stories.

The razor story makes a come-back lol. 

OH THEY’RE EXPLAINING THE MISSING SHOTS. I’ve waited ten years for someone to explain it!!!

Akshay’s favourite scene was the NYE one they had to do because Barun and Sanaya were on holidays. It’s kind of sad -- he totally has a point because that is one of Aakash’s best sequences and he only had the chance to do it because both leads were away.

One of the things I like about IPKKND is that even the nonsensical scenes and sequences have a reasonably good in-canon explanation. Like, if the Bali-in-Delhi sequences came about because of cost-cutting and they were initially supposed to go somewhere (be still my beating heart, this is going to be an OS, I can feel it), the final result -- while still random -- doesn’t feel super awkward.

I too love the scene in the mandir with Arnav and his Di!!

Abhaas: Your whole show was mandir-wala scene!

Q: What would your characters be doing right now?

Q: If not for your character, which other character would you want to play on the show?

Barun: I would be busy running Amazon. A to Z. Big businessman. And maybe Arnav is having a conversation with someone to sell the Safari and buy a smaller car.

Akshay: My business in America tanked because nothing gets done without Arnav! Now he’s selling CDs. 

Dalljiet: Shyam isn’t there, we kicked him out with a slap.

Abhaas: I’m still plotting against you with a scorpion.

Dalljiet: Well I’m cooler than all of you because you all have children.

Sanaya: You didn’t have a kid?

Dalljiet: No, and we kicked out the person I’d have kids with.

Akshay: I think Shaym got married to the scorpion.

Oh my goodness Abhaas still has Rani Sahiba saved on his phone, which is still programmed as Aman’s number.

Abhaas: Anyone but Shyam? I would be Aakash.

Akshay: Kya bol raha hai bhai?

Barun: I would’ve played Hari Prakash if they paid me per-day.

Q: What dialogue do you remember from your character?

Dalljiet: I would love to play Hello hi bye-bye!

Akshay: I would not want to play in Iss Pyaar Ko Kya Naam Doon! (after like ten minutes of refusing to answer) ... Lakshmi!

Sanaya: I would want to play Mami-ji for sure!

I laughed so hard when Akshay slapped Abhaas through the screen that I cried.

Sanaya: Laad Governor!

Akshay: *dramatique* Bhai.

Okay, the rest just devolved into general chaos.

Dalljiet: *reads out chat* Akshay is hot!

Akshay: *Vogues*

That was fun to watch, gave me some much-needed laughs. Doesn’t beat the LOTR reunion though.

[gingersnapwolves]

The Untamed, a brief summary [Part 3/6]

Part One: Sword Wizard School

Part Two:  The Search for the Yin Iron and the World’s Worst Summer Camp

Part Three: The Fall of Lotus Pier and the Sunshot Campaign

Here’s where it starts to get dark, folks. 

Ext, Lotus Pier [Yunmeng]

Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng get back, and Wei Wuxian promptly collapses because they were in the cave for a week and then he walked all the way back to Yunmeng. He sleeps for three days. When he wakes up, Jiang Yanli gives him soup. Jiang Fengmian comes in to congratulate him for killing the evil CGI turtle snake. Wei Wuxian tries to say it wasn’t a big deal. Jiang Cheng tells him he only got it done because he was playing the hero, and Jiang Fengmian reprimands him for being a jerk.

Yu Ziyuan comes in and the two get in a big fight over how Jiang Fengmian treats the kids. Yu Ziyuan says people think Wei Wuxian is actually Jiang Fengmian’s son, and Jiang Fengmian gets pissy about it (which is fair since it insults both his friends). The two of them storm off. Jiang Cheng is upset because his father doesn’t even like him. Wei Wuxian tells him not to be so hard on himself and says he’ll beat up anyone who’s mean to Jiang Cheng, that he doesn’t want anyone to think he’s anyone’s son but his parents, and that he’ll always be Jiang Cheng’s right hand man. It’s super sweet honestly.

ENTER A USELESS MESS

Meet Sect Leader Yao. He’s super annoying and shows up occasionally to require exposition and give the characters an excuse to explain things to the audience. His sect just got attacked by the Wens and most of his people are dead.

This obviously ain’t cool so Jiang Fengmian goes to talk to the leader of the Lanling Jin about joining up to fight Wen Ruohan. He brings Jiang Yanli with him for some reason.

While he’s gone, Jiaojiao shows up to demand Wei Wuxian be punished for all the shit he did in Qishan. Yu Ziyuan is enraged at Wei Wuxian for upsetting the Wens, or possibly just at Wei Wuxian existing in general. She whips him with her cool lightning weapon and injures him badly, while Jiang Cheng begs her to stop. Jiaojiao says this isn’t good enough and demands they cut off Wei Wuxian’s hand.

It looks like Yu Ziyuan is going to do it, but then Jiaojiao pisses her off by telling her that once the Wen have taken over Yunmeng, Yu Ziyuan can help out by being their governor or whatever. Yu Ziyuan gets pissed and starts beating the shit out of Jiaojiao. It’s really satisfying.

Wen Zhuliu shows up. He clearly has some history with Yu Ziyuan, because he calls her ‘Violet Spider’ and she calls him ‘Core-Melting Hand’. A rarepair is born.

All hell breaks loose. Jiaojiao signals their troops. Yu Ziyuan takes both Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian and throws them in a boat, and then ties them up with her lightning whip. She tells Wei Wuxian to protect Jiang Cheng with his life, which he would undoubtedly do anyway, blames him for everything that’s happened, and tells him she hates him. Then she starts the boat going down the river.

They’re still struggling to get free when they run into Jiang Fengmian coming back. Rather than release them, he ties Jiang Yanli in with them and goes to the defense of Lotus Pier. He also tells Wei Wuxian to protect Jiang Cheng with his life. They really want to drive this point home.

Int, Lotus Pier [Yunmeng]

Yu Ziyuan has killed like a hundred guys all by herself. It’s awesome. Jiang Fengmian shows up and charges to her rescue and promptly gets killed. Great job, Jiang Fengmian. Yu Ziyuan sees that they’ve lost and kills herself rather than be taken prisoner.

Ext, Lotus Pier [Yunmeng]

Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng have gotten back to find that their parents are dead along with most of their sect members. It sucks. They run away, which is honestly the most sensible thing to do.

Int, an inn [Yunmeng]

Jiang Yanli is sick. Jiang Cheng is shell-shocked. Wei Wuxian goes to get them food and medicine. When he returns, Jiang Cheng is gone. He gives the medicine to Jiang Yanli and tells her to stay there until he can get Jiang Cheng and get back.

Int, Lotus Pier [Yunmeng]

Wei Wuxian is looking for Jiang Cheng. He grabs a random Wen and starts to choke them to steal their uniform, only to realize it’s Wen Ning. He asks Wen Ning if he was involved and Wen Ning says no, he heard that Wei Wuxian was in trouble and decided to commit a little light treason. He offers to get Jiang Cheng out.

Ext, Lotus Pier [Yunmeng]

Wen Ning puts a bunch of drugs in the party punch. Wen Zhuliu sniffs it and clearly detects shenanigans. Wen Chao tells him to stop being a pussy and drink. Wen Zhuliu decides that if his boss wants him to pass out on company time that’s okay by him, so he drinks.

Wei Wuxian is waiting in a boat. Wen Ning comes back with Jiang Cheng, who is badly injured, and the magic lightning whip. He offers to take them to his sister’s house in Yiling so they can lay low.

Ext, Yiling Supervisory House [Yiling]

Wen Qing is understandably a little miffed that her brother decided to commit treason without checking with her first. But in for a penny, in for a pound, she patches Jiang Cheng up and hides them in her living room or something.

Jiang Cheng wakes up the next day and is basically a shell of a person. Wen Zhuliu, it turns out, has the ability to crush someone’s golden core, which is where they keep their spiritual power, so they can’t cultivate any longer. Think of it like cutting off a Jedi’s connection to the force. He’s lost his will to live and lies there like a dead thing for like two full episodes. No judgment.

Wei Wuxian starts reading every book Wen Qing owns in an effort to find a way to cure Jiang Cheng, despite this being said to be impossible. He finds one. She tells him not to do it because of the sacrifice that’s involved. He remains committed.

For some reason, Song Lan shows up. (Batman from earlier.) Xue Yang attacked his temple. He was blinded and has been wandering. Xiao Xingchen took him to see Baoshan Sanren, a famous cultivator in the mountains. She does not run a sect but will occasionally take on students. Xiao Xingchen was one and so was Wei Wuxian’s mother. Song Lan’s eyes are getting better.

Wei Wuxian tells Jiang Cheng that they’re going to go see Baoshan Sanren, who he knows because of her connection to his mother, and that she’ll restore his golden core. They ask Song Lan to take Jiang Yanli to Koi Tower (Lanling) so the Jin sect can keep her safe. He agrees.

 Ext, a random mountain [Yiling]

Jiang Cheng goes up the mountain blindfolded. Wei Wuxian tells him to say his name is Wei Wuxian and ask Baoshan Sanren to restore his golden core.

Ext, a random town [Yiling]

Look, I’m gonna be honest with y’all. What happened between these two scenes is something that I figured out as it was happening, and I was never aware it was supposed to be a ~big reveal~ later. My wife likewise figured it out and treated it as fact. When it’s revealed later it’s a big deal to Jiang Cheng, but it wasn’t a big deal to us. However I’ve seen some people talking about how they didn’t figure it out until then, so I thought maybe I shouldn’t say what happened. But then I thought, this is just a summary, if you cared about spoilers you wouldn’t be reading this, and it’s much easier to explain what happens going forward if you know.

So, on that note, Wei Wuxian cut out his own golden core and gave it to Jiang Cheng. Or actually Wen Qing did the procedure. So now he has no golden core and can’t cultivate. Which sucks because he immediately gets captured by the Wens. He taunts Wen Chao, who decides not to kill him because he might become an angry ghost. Instead, they throw him into the Burial Mounds.

Ext, The Burial Mounds [Yiling]

A big battle happened here and it’s full of dead bodies and restless spirits. Cultivators have tried over the centuries to clean it up, but nobody who goes in ever comes out. Wei Wuxian lands in the middle of this mess and it sucks.

The creepy sword he’s been carrying in a spirit pouch asks if he wants revenge. Turns out he does. It’s super hot.

Ext, everywhere [everywhere]

Everyone is hella pissed that Lotus Pier was sacked. (I guess it was fine when it was Cloud Recesses for some reason.) The four great sects (or what remains of them) band together to fight Wen Ruohan. We see shots of lots of people looking badass. The mission to overthrow Wen Ruohan is dubbed The Sunshot Campaign.

Ext, the Indoctrination Bureau [Qishan]

It’s been three months. A bunch of nobodies are yukking it up that Wen Chao killed Wei Wuxian. Lan Wangji comes out of nowhere and forces them all to kneel. It’s super hot. They admit to him and Jiang Cheng that Wei Wuxian was thrown into the Burial Mounds. Obviously this makes him very unhappy.

But on the plus side, they get their swords back. Yay! The disciple offers Wei Wuxian’s sword to Lan Wangji even though Jiang Cheng, who is Wei Wuxian’s brother and sect leader, is literally standing right there, so clearly everyone knows they’re married.

Ext, the Unclean Realm [Qinghe]

Everyone’s coming to Qinghe to discuss the final campaign. Wen Xu is now dead despite having never made another appearance, killed by Nie Mingjue.

Jiang Cheng reunites with Jiang Yanli, who has been in Lanling this whole time. She didn’t even know Wei Wuxian was missing and she’s pretty upset to hear about it.

They have a battle strategy meeting. Lan Wangji asks if he can go kick some ass in Yiling, and Nie Mingjue tells him and Jiang Cheng to go ahead.

Nie Mingjue asks Jin Zixuan how Meng Yao is doing in Lanling, having assumed (for some reason) (actually the reason is from book canon but didn’t translate to the show very well) that Meng Yao would have gone there. Jin Zixuan tells Nie Mingjue that Meng Yao didn’t go to Lanling, and that even if he did, his father would not have welcomed him. Nie Mingjue appears upset, possibly regretting that he exiled Meng Yao over one measly murder.

Ext, Yiling Supervisory House [Yiling]

Wen Chao and Jiaojiao are having a great time until a mysterious man dressed all in black shows up and uses a mysterious flute to drive everyone there insane and kill most of them. Wen Chao only escapes because Wen Zhuliu rescues him.

The next day, Lan Wangji and Jiang Cheng show up, view the carnage, and say ‘well that ain’t good’.

Jiang Cheng finds Wen Qing imprisoned in the basement. She doesn’t know where Wen Ning was taken. She thanks him for the rescue and says they’re even now. He gives her the comb he bought for her back in the first arc. Or actually he just sets it on the table because he’s bad at romance. We don’t see whether or not she takes it.

Int, an inn [Yiling]

Wen Chao is totally nuts and freaking the fuck out. Wen Zhuliu is trying to get him to calm down long enough to treat his injuries, while mentally updating his resume again.

A mysterious man in black shows up with a flute and summons a demon or three.

Lan Wangji and Jiang Cheng, who have been tracking Wen Chao, show up in time to hop up to the roof and look through a convenient window to see what’s happening. It’s revealed that the mysterious man in black is *drum roll please* Wei Wuxian! He is super hot.

Wei Wuxian is doing absolutely fine with the murdering but Jiang Cheng jumps in anyway, using the lightning whip to kill Wen Zhuliu, which, props to Jiang Cheng. Wen Chao cowers in a corner.

Jiang Cheng asks Wei Wuxian where the hell he’s been, returns his sword, and hugs him, and your tears are ‘what the hell I thought this was a silly show about sword wizards’. Wei Wuxian has clearly forgotten what hugs are. It’s sad.

Lan Wangji ruins the moment by demanding why Wei Wuxian is using seriously evil magic to kill people. Wei Wuxian says ‘you can’t tell me what to do, mom’, which does not help the situation at all. He and Jiang Cheng murder Wen Chao while Lan Wangji stands outside looking messed up about it.

  Ext, the Unclean Realm [Qinghe]

Wei Wuxian is reunited with Jiang Yanli and shit I’m crying again.

Jiang Yanli’s worried about the evil magic. She talks to Lan Wangji, who tells her that it sure is evil and Wei Wuxian shouldn’t be doing it because it will corrupt his mind and temperament.

Everyone wants to know why Wei Wuxian isn’t carrying his sword. He blows them off. (It’s because he can’t use it, since he’s not a cultivator anymore.)

Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian manage to use their words for exactly one (1) scene. Lan Wangji says ‘let me help you’ and Wei Wuxian says ‘okay’ and then promptly spends the next ten episodes not letting Lan Wangji help him.

Int, the Unclean Realm [Qinghe]

There’s another battle strategy meeting. They discuss the fact that they need something that can counter Wen Ruohan’s yin iron. Wei Wuxian says ‘I’m working on it’ and then refuses to give them any details and leaves, which is super rude, my dude.

Lan Xichen is getting information from a mole in Wen Ruohan’s troops. Nie Mingjue asks where it’s coming from and Lan Xichen beats around the bush.

Wei Wuxian wanders off to have a PTSD breakdown.

  Ext, somewhere I don’t remember

Jin Zixuan is a jerk to Jiang Yanli. It’s about soup. It’s as stupid as it sounds. Wei Wuxian loses his temper even though it’s stupid and nearly evil magics Jin Zixuan and a bunch of guys to death. Lan Wangji tells him to chill.

Ext, Nightless City [Qishan]

They’ve fought their way to Nightless City! Now all they have to deal with is that Wen Ruohan has like a zillion zombie puppets. It goes as badly as you would expect.

Int, Nightless City [Qishan]

Somewhere along the way, Nie Mingjue had the brilliant plan to sneak in and assassinate Wen Ruohan during the chaos of the battle, despite the fact that Nie Mingjue is akin to a rhinoceros and does not sneak. He is immediately captured along with a bunch of his guys.

Meng Yao is here! He has big ‘look how much better I’ve been doing after the divorce’ energy. He kills a few of Nie Mingjue’s guys and then taunts him about how much he sucks.

Ext, Nightless City [Qishan]

Despite the fact that it took Wei Wuxian three seconds to summon evil spirits over his sister’s hurt feelings, he stands around for like twenty minutes watching every non-main-character get murdered before he’s like “oh, right, the creepy sword I have was yin iron all along” and he’s made it into an amulet which enhances his power. He seizes control of Wen Ruohan’s zombies and makes them all kill each other. He is super hot.

Wen Ruohan stops murdering Nie Mingjue when he realizes this is happening and goes out to see what’s going on. He and Wei Wuxian, who is still super hot, have a brief exchange before Meng Yao fucking stabs Wen Ruohan in the back like a badass motherfucker.

Wei Wuxian passes out which seems reasonable.

Int, Nightless City [Qishan]

Nie Mingjue is pissed. Lan Xichen quickly explains that Meng Yao is the one who was undercover and was passing information back to him the whole time. Nie Mingjue points out that Meng Yao killed his men. Lan Xichen points out that Meng Yao had to, because he didn’t want to blow his cover. Nie Mingjue begrudgingly accepts this explanation.

Turns out that when Lan Xichen was fleeing the Wen sect burning down Cloud Recesses, he ran into Meng Yao, who headed to Gusu after leaving Qinghe because Wen Chao told them that Wen Xu was going to attack it. Meng Yao saved Lan Xichen’s life, and with this paragraph, a hundred fanfics were born.

  ~end part 3~

[theres-no-protocol-for-this]

Necessary Repairs

Part III. I don’t even know if you have to read any of the other parts. SecUnit should probably have slept through most of its own healing, but that’s not this machine’s luck.

Part I | Part II

At some indeterminate point later, I woke up.

I was receiving minimal sensory data, and none of it was sight-related. A diagnostic subroutine spun up and casually began sending me bursts of error messages I couldn't even begin to translate.

Oh, and the world was pitch black.

It took me more than five seconds to determine that the darkness was self-inflicted and open my eyes. Longer still for the random noise to resolve into sounds I could understand -- the hum of an air circulation system, at least two distinct voices, and an automated warning system. My connection to the feed stabilized, but the walls that normally guarded my mind against its onslaught were conspicuously absent.

Something else was shielding me, something big and surprisingly gentle.

Friend?

I could feel cold metal under my back and head, probably the medical suite platform. My internal temperature refused to rise, so I was shivering and couldn't stop. It felt like I was still leaking, and the pain ebbed and flowed with each passing moment.

“Would you like me to turn up the heat?” Transport asked.

Yes. Where the hell am I?

I felt a mild shock as the governor kicked in. It hadn't liked my tone, apparently, or the phrasing of my answer, and wasn't shy about letting me know. The standard code read, "you're outside of protocol and need to adjust your attitude."

Silently, I cursed the damn thing. I was getting used to life without it.

A moment later, Transport answered, "SecUnit, you're still in medical, and your performance rating, while stable, remains abysmally low."

The ship paused and sent me a couple of data packets that succinctly described all the things still wrong -- which was most of them. I should've probably remained in stasis, but the medical unit was calibrated for humans. So, it hadn't given me nearly enough sedative to knock out the organic parts of a construct for any appreciable amount of time.

I was awake, kind of.

"I'm waiting for your vital signs to improve," Transport added. "Until then, would you like to watch an episode of that one show you liked?"

Yes, please.

The ship's calm tone reassured me, even though everything else looked like shit. My diagnostics were coming back with nonsense, still. The governor couldn't find a SecSystem to connect with. The Traveler didn't have or need one of those; it had a skeleton HubSystem instead managed security, life support, and logistics. My inflexible governor couldn't figure out how to interface with it.

Surprise, surprise...

It fell back on some preprogrammed garbage, complete with a minimal set of actions and responses. "Yes, please" and "No, thank you" was probably the best I could manage at the moment without incurring its wrath. I'd try poking at it later when my performance no longer looked quite so dramatically sad.

Captain Owens pulled up a chair and sat down where she could see me. Transport shared the view from one of its cameras, so now I could see her, too. It also queued up an episode of a long-running serial and waited for the captain before it started playing. I wanted to ask about the hostiles but couldn't -- thanks governor -- and Transport didn't seem inclined to enlighten me.

I suppose it was only fair; it was doing its best to keep me calm.

MedSystem sorted out the sleeping issue in the meantime and had injected more sedatives into my resupply channel, so sleep was happening shortly, whether I liked it or not. I could practically feel my diagnostics slowing down to a crawl since they relied on data from my organic parts, which were affected by the drugs.

"Good afternoon, SecUnit. I'm glad to see you're awake." The captain nodded in my direction and then turned toward someone I couldn't see. "As I mentioned, thanks to SecUnit, we came out of the boarding attempt in one piece. I'm sorry to hear your ship wasn't as lucky."

A stranger in formal wear came into camera view as he approached Owens. I figured he was the owner of that second voice I hadn't been able to identify earlier. The logo on his tunic looked familiar, but I couldn't place it. Parts of my memory felt like tangled network cables.

"Indeed, but this is still better than nothing. I don't suppose you've already contacted your bonding company?"

The captain's face scrunched up in confusion. "We're insured outside of the Corporation Rim," she explained. "I've sent a message, but I'm here pretty much on my own."

Outside of the Rim, everything appeared to work in ways that were incompatible with corporation control.  A lot of the propaganda around freehold planets implied they were a complete shitshow. Except, clearly, the Traveler was doing just fine.

I had a sudden burst of "bad feeling" in my organic neural tissue. Something about the newcomer didn't sit right with me. I thought it might be unwise for the captain to tell him anything about herself or her ship.

"No, thank you." It sounded like my voice, but I didn't remember speaking. Hi buffer, I thought I'd never see you again.

The newcomer gave me a puzzled glance. "So, where'd you get your unit then?"

Owens shrugged and schooled her expression. I'd seen that face before when she'd spoken to her daughter before our first jump. "I rented it from a friend, as a security consultant. It's doing a great job."

I was?

I mean, the human was alive, and the Traveler had an intact hull, so I guess things weren't terrible. I could practically hear the Transport laughing on a private channel. If I could roll my eyes, I probably would have, but the governor frowned on that sort of thing, and my eyes had closed minutes ago.

"I see. Well, if you wouldn't mind giving us a hand with repairs, we can both be on our way." The man watched the captain like a hawk. "I would also recommend getting your unit checked out at a licensed repair station when you get a chance. With this level of damage, there's no telling what other problems are hiding under the surface."

As far as statements go, it was polite enough, but I didn't like it. It sounded to me like a threat.

Performance rating dropping. Initiating emergency shutdown.

I really would prefer you didn't.

***

Memory fragment:

The mining installation doesn't inspire confidence. There are eight of us and two combat models. Ten security units should be enough to keep a workforce of 153 miners and a dozen more supervisors in line. Everything looks worn and rundown, including the humans.

Protocol dictates that we take shifts. A human has created a schedule to which we adhere. The two combat units are mixed in with the rest of us.

It's my patrol shift. I walk through one of the mining shafts and stop at the far end. I can hear a supervisor arguing with two of her employees—something about the rocks they've uncovered. I turn around, ready to head back to the primary installation, when one of the combat units walks up to the three humans.

It has been summoned by the supervisor.

The supervisor tells it to fire on the workers. It does, without question. Bodies crumple to the floor. Then, the supervisor notices me.

***

Transport popped into my feed. "Wake up, SecUnit. How're you feeling?"

"Like I got shot."

The words were out before I could consider the consequences, and I braced for an electric shock -- or worse. Nothing happened. Performance reliability was at 87% and rising steadily. My diagnostics routines had run several times, and the results looked promising. I was also no longer leaking, and most of my organic parts had grown back.

I had two arms again. That was nice.

Transport shared a smiling sigil. Reason unknown. "You did get shot, silly. MedSystem patched you up pretty well. If you're up to it, my captain and I could use your help." It paused and added, "Captain suggested that you might want payment in exchange for services rendered. That's how it works in CR, right?"

I had my doubts about anything actually working in the Corporation Rim. Still, arguing with a clearly sentient ship about theoretical economics didn't sound appealing. I'd rather get shocked again.

"OK," I said aloud and sat up. "Priority question: who was here earlier?"

"Dr. Alexander Soren is the current captain of an ArialHydra exploration vessel. They are stranded in this sector after a pirate attack. Captain Owens speculates that it may be the same group of pirates. We were lucky to have you on board."

Lucky. Right.

I shoved off the platform and crumpled to the floor in a pile of arms and legs. Hi there, limbs. A few minutes later, I managed to get up and stumble around under my own power. I admit to sitting on the floor and trying out my new arm. It didn't have a cannon -- MedSystem didn't have the required parts -- but it was fully functional, otherwise.

"I've seen Dr. Soren before." I couldn't remember where. That bothered me.

"Perhaps you were deployed on one of his survey missions?"

"I don't know."

One of the ship's drones floated into the room, carrying spare clothing, which it dropped directly on my head. I grabbed at the falling fabric and started getting dressed. It was the Traveler's standard-issue uniform, beige and blue and generally not hideous. I missed the protective qualities of armor, but it would've been weird to wander through the ship's pristine, carpeted halls with it on.

Captain Owens walked into the medical room and waved at me and the drone. "I see you're both here and scheming."

"We're not scheming, and technically, I'm everywhere," Transport informed us.

"I don't think you should trust Dr. Soren," I blurted out.

Owens narrowed her eyes. "Do you know anything you'd care to share?"

I shook my head. Constructs don't get gut feelings -- we don't even have a gut to have them with -- and my memories of any encounters with the doctor had been removed. Memory wipes aren't typical, but occasionally, a bonding company or a manufacturer/repair company decides they're necessary. I've had at least one that I know about. I also had no idea how to explain that my organic neurons probably remembered things the rest of me didn't.

"Well, in that case, has Trav told you what we need?" At my puzzled expression, the captain said, "We gave the other ship supplies, and they're almost ready to depart. And they're making a fuss about..." She sighed. "Something. I really don't care. They'll be coming back aboard in a few hours to discuss whatever it is. And I would feel much better if you were there. Just in case. And only if you're feeling up to it."

Protecting humans was literally the only thing I liked about my job. "OK."

"Great. Do you want a weapon?"

"Depends on how threatening you want me to look." Any weapon I wielded would be for show unless the human was in danger. And if she was, I had a miniature cannon hidden inside an arm.

The captain pondered this for a moment. Her face went through a range of expressions that Transport interpreted for me as "Captain Owens thinks the other ship's posturing is stupid and would like to be on her way, but it would be impolite to leave, so here we are." I agreed with the captain's assessment.

Finally, she said, "Let's try without any extra threats and see what happens. The quicker we get this over with, the better."

Transport suggested we spend the time between now and the upcoming meeting watching more of its favorite shows. I agreed.

[beeprblog]

Beepr Goes To Shows: Governor’s Ball 2021.

In this first installment of Beepr Goes To Shows, I spent all 3-days at this years Governor’s Ball to give you crowd coverage you deserve and concert recaps/reviews you want. Stay tuned for more show write-ups and other updates!

Freddie Gibbs and The Alchemist

What happens when you put two legends on the same stage? You get one hell of a fucking show. Freddie Gibbs and The Alchemist were on another level that Friday afternoon, delivering classics from Madlib collaborative albums (Crime Pays, Fake Names, Palm Olive, Thuggin), recent singles from Freddie (Big Boss Rabbit, Gang Signs), and all your favorite offerings from Alfredo (Baby $Hit, Scottie Beam, Something To Rap About). The braggadocious swagger Freddie brings to the stage is tempered by Alchemist’s suave production and generally reserved demeanor, making them a very balanced performance. Despite being an acclaimed producer, you get the sense that The Alchemist is there to support Freddie rather than make the performance about himself. Freddie’s natural humor shines through in between songs, cracking jokes while taking tokes and hitting a bottle of Hennessy. Chants of “Fuck police,” cheers for the Alchemist, and concert-goers belting choruses created a deafening atmosphere, rivaling some sold out indoor venues I’ve visited. To call Freddie a cult artist would be disrespectful of all the mainstream achievements (Grammy nominations, cracking Billboard Top 25s, etc), and yet for some reason, he remains on the fringes of superstardom. Part of what people love about Freddie Gibbs is his larger than life personality, as he has an authenticity about him that’s naturally charismatic. If there’s anything I can be certain about after that set, it’s that Freddie Gibbs and The Alchemist have undeniable chemistry and I hope they have more on the way.

Phoebe Bridgers

In January of 2018, a report from Nielsen Music identified that rap had surpassed rock in terms of overall music consumption. But Phoebe Bridgers will not allow her genre to go quietly into the night. She very well may be the next iteration of a rockstar. From her band all being in uniform, to the stage production, and most importantly, her diehard fans: Phoebe Bridgers is killing it in all aspects of the game. Apparently, I had been living under rock for quite some time as I only did a deep dive into her music when I saw her on the Governor’s Ball lineup announcement. How foolish was I? Phoebe has an incredible catalogue despite being only 27 (bolstered by her work with groups like Boygenius and Better Oblivion Community Center). Songs like Motion Sickness, Garden Song, and ICU feel more like Phoebe hosting a singalong, as the entire crowd is belting back each and every lyric at the top of their lungs with emphatic energy. Tracks like Kyoto also fall into that category, but there’s an immense rush of excitement as the brilliance of Bridger’s music blares through over the speakers for the chorus. Ballads like I Know The End are blissful moments of serenity, as I found myself swaying with my eyes closed in my little spot in the crowd. Her nonchalance in between songs is intoxicating, as it’s a beautiful contrast to her immensely emotive and personal performance. It’s so endearing to see past what’s on the outside and find an individual who profoundly cares about their work. What perhaps is most endearing about Phoebe’s performance is how she’s unabashedly herself: quips like “Fuck nihilism, too” are interjected in between songs, her outfit a glamorized rendition of the classic skeleton t-shirts. While I might have been late to the party in terms of the Phoebe Bridgers hype train, you can bet I’m going to be early to every one of her shows from here on out.  

A$AP Rocky

As Saturday night of Governor’s Ball was drawing near to an end, there were millions of individual conversations buzzing around in the crowd. But almost all of them were centered around one question: When will A$AP Rocky start? At 9:12pm EST, our question was answered, with a bang. Crowd surfing around in an inflatable car, bullhorn in hand, Rocky showed off some new sounds as unreleased tracks (Grim Freestyle amongst the slew of unreleased tracks) boomed over speakers. Mosh pits opened up left and right as the concert slowly evolved into a beautiful, New York block party-esque chaos. Hearing recent work like his features on Slowthai’s MAZZA and Famous Dex’s PICK IT UP were unexpected yet gratifying moments. But what really amplified the crowd was hearing some of the “older” radio hits. I can’t remember a time in recent memory when I’ve been as excited as when the first synths on LPFJ2 and Telephone Calls hit. Classics like Praise Da Lord and Yamborghini High ensured that there were no lapses in energy or excitement. Babushka Boi set the crowd ablaze, as the off-key notes intermingled in the beat acted as cues for the rowdy meter to kick it up a notch. Rocky even gave up some of his set to ensure the rest of the Mob was represented, as he had the DJ play Plane Jane by A$AP Ferg. The softer side of Rocky’s discography was met with equal anticipation as Sundress and A$AP Forever were met with exuberant cheers. Fully embracing his trippy side, after asking us if we liked hallucinogens, Rocky performed L$D to a roaring crowd (he also teased us with the unreleased Mushroom Clouds after asking us if we fucked with mushrooms too). During what felt like a showcase of the Harlem rappers’ ability to generate raucous ovation, the time had the crew informed Rocky his set had to be wrapped up. An earnest plea to keep it going was made, begging to at least get off Peso, but the euphoria was always going to be finite. It’s safe to say, anyone saying Rocky fell off is full of it.

Burna Boy

From start to finish, Burna Boy kept it hot. Bringing plenty of Nigerian flair to the CitiField air, I can safely say that Burna Boy’s set was one of the most enjoyable of the weekend. Even before he appeared, loud chants imploring him to take the stage could be heard ringing throughout the grounds. As his band and mom (who doubles as his manager) patiently waited, you could see them grinning and laughing as they knew we were in for a great show. Burna Boy then graced the stage and we were transported to another world, filled with laid back vibes, political protest, and triumph. Opening up with Gbona, it was apparent that the entire show was going to be electric. Hitting dance moves, grinning from ear to ear, it was obvious that Burna Boy planned on making a stellar first impression at the Governor’s Ball (he also earned major New York brownie points by giving us an animated performance of his velvety feature on Enjoy Yourself by Pop Smoke). Hearing some of my favorite songs live cemented them even further in the favorites category, as his performance adds another level of fun and personality. Collateral Damage, a beautifully subverted political protest anthem, felt truly harmonious as the entire crowd chanted the chorus with their fists in the air. As much as I love my AirPods, the heartfelt energy of both the crowd and Burna Boy I felt in the crowd during Anybody and Dangote could never be matched by speakers. Even the less upbeat songs (such as Wetin Man Go Do) he performed were met with incredibly cheerful reactions as. Live riffs from the band during some of his most popular singles added great spice for those who are familiar but equally exciting for new listeners. It’s apparent that there’s a great sense of camaraderie amongst the whole crew, that their main goal is to put on a memorable and joyous show. I can only hope that Burna Boy and the band make trips to the states more frequently.

Ellie Goulding

Have you ever felt the urge to forget everything that’s worrying you and just live in the here and now? Then you should go to as many Ellie Goulding shows as humanly possible. There’s a good chance you’re already familiar with some of her work (I’ll get to that in a bit), but it’s an entirely other thing to see her bring them to life. Hidden under the surface of a soft-spoken, singer-songwriter is a powerhouse performer, ready to give the show and attendees her everything. Watching her confidence grow during the set, seeing her come out of a shell that had likely developed as a result of not touring, was a beautiful sight to behold. In between comments about how grateful she was to be performing, quips about her outfit, you really got to watch her conviction begin to grow and take root. Anthemic at every instance, the crowd was equally ready to return the same energy Goulding graced us with. The only thing that was all over the place about her refined and poised performance was the eclectic mix of work she pulled from. From Lights (and yes, if you’re curious, that shit slapped) all the way up to her latest album, Brightest Blue, we got treated to the Ellie Goulding evolution set. Intermingling a solid slate of collaborations like Diplo’s Close To Me (I don’t know if I’ve ever sung along as fervently as I did for that one), Calvin Harris’ I Need Your Love (okay, I lied, this is the one where I lost my voice), and Major Lazer’s Powerful, there was a reference point regarding how they discovered Goulding for everyone in the audience. Hearing oldies like Aftertaste, Anything Could Happen, and Only You instantly transported me to simpler times, back when bills and deadlines seemed like an abstract concept. In another edition of music star leads a sing-a-long, the crowd could have taken over for Lights and Love Me Like You Do. Thankfully, we got to hear Ellie too. It’s a magical moment when a few hundred (maybe a full thousand) are all united by one common goal: to embrace the present and shower the performer with adoration in the form of knowing every lyric. Harmony amongst total strangers, tied together through a common love of music. Ellie Goulding gave us more than one of the best sets from the weekend, she gave us a sense of unity and togetherness unlike any other I’ve experienced.

Post Malone

When you find a superstar, with millions of fans and millions in the bank, that you feel like you can still crack open a crispy Bud Light, you’ve found something special. And we all know that Post Malone loves a cold one. The final chapter of Governor’s Ball 2021 ended with Post Malone’s Sunday night set, a perfect way to wind down the weekend. Opening up the set with an inquisitive “Hello?” to test out the mic, this show was one of the most authentic and down-to-earth concerts I’ve been to in quite some time. It almost feels like you’re just hanging out hearing some song ideas from your friend Austin Post, wearing some regular denim shorts and a “Where’s Waldo” style striped shirt, until the audible roars from the crowd of “Posty” remind you you’re at a headliner. Arguably the most larger-than-life aspect of Post’s set was his entrance on the stage, via a smoke-cloud suspended platform adorned with metal chains. With a healthy mix of beerbongs & bentley’s, Hollywood’s Bleeding, recent singles and old hits, Post Malone was showing us all of his repertoire. Chugging beers at the request of the crowd, checking in with all of us in between songs, calling for celebration and happiness, Post goes to great lengths to ensure that the crowd is with it and that everyone is having a good time. Tracks like Psycho were somehow both relaxing and energizing at the same time, as the chorus transformed the venue into an incredible echo-chamber. We also got to see how many friends Post has, as we got guest appearances from Young Thug (performing Goodbyes), Roddy Rich (gracing us with Every Season and The Box), and 21 Savage (to perform Rockstar, which Post Malone did his best to embody all night). With each feature, the crowd seemed to kick into another fear of excitement, but that’s not to say people didn’t lose it for some of Post’s solo work. Stay, which Post performed seated strumming an acoustic guitar, was as heartfelt as it could get in its stripped down state. Despite previously admitting to not being able to sing without autotune, you could see how much he cared about capping off the weekend right while performing that song (without autotune in an effort to be as real as possible). White Iverson and Congratulations were both barn-burners, as the whole festival grounds were chanting lyrics and bouncing along. After a very long weekend of raging and raving, Post Malone’s set managed to run through the whole gambit of festival emotions: joy, excitement, surprise, and relief. It’d be disingenuous to say anything other than Austin Post has mastered the art of headlining.

[therealkatekane]

My Journey through Yuri, Part II

So, to be fair, this is the first anime that kicked off my midlife discovery of anime. And while Symphogear holds the top spot in my heart, Valkyrie Drive: Mermaid is a very, very close second. Symphogear fulfills my need for warm fluffy fuzzies and adventure. Valkyrie fulfills my need for... everything else: lesbians, sex, lesbian sex, humor, over-the-top-ridiculous premises, zero male characters, and just... literally everything. If Symphogear is comfort food, then Valkyrie is my favorite meal that is hella bad for me, but I just don’t care.

I don’t even remember how I stumbled onto this anime, but I thank the fucking gods that I did. I found it, watched the entire series one night, and again the next two nights with the girls. Also, thanks to this show, Diana taught me two important anime terms: ecchi and oppai. We’ll start here:

And so it begins...

Let me start here: you best be grown for this post. And you best be grown if you’re watching this show because damn they is a lot of sex.

The whole premise of this show is that girls infected with the Arm Virus are quarantined on islands away from the rest of the world. Infected girls can be either Extars or Liberators. Extars transform into weapons (”Arms”) that Liberators use or “drive.” And in order to transform, Extars must be sexually stimulated by a compatible Liberator. Yup.

I was actually concerned at first because I thought this setup had a lot of potential to have all the attitudes and ideas I find super squicky in anime (and in media in general): questionable consent, objectification, toxic relationships, etc. But I was pleasantly surprised that consent is actually addressed really well in the series, and overall, I thought it handled excellently so I wasn’t squicked out at all.

So, onto the characters:

Above you see our two main characters: Mamori, the red head, is an Extar. The blond, Mirei, is a Liberator. And as is seen above, they were meant for each other. That being said, bless Mirei and her heart of gold, because Mamori is real simple. If I have one complaint about this show, it’s that Mamori is that annoyingly innocent and oblivious and simple protagonist. You know the one. She’s that dog you have that can’t figure out how to push open a door with its nose even though it’s already mostly open anyway and whines until you get up and cross the room and push it open the remaining three inches so she can come in. Lord love her, she’s adorable and sweet, but just... not bright.

But Mirei is phenomenal. Despite Mamori’s obliviousness, Mirei is immediately staunchly devoted to her. All she wants to do is protect Mamori. She is tall and mysterious and proves to be a badass fighter in her first thirty seconds on screen. You can’t help but fall in love with her strength and stubbornness. And I’m a sucker for the strong but silent and awkward types. 

What I like best about their relationship is how Mirei automatically does whatever she thinks is in Mamori’s best interests or aligns with her desires from word one. She sees Mamori under attack, she places herself between her and her attacker. Mamori complains about a character being cruel to another, Mirei moves to put a stop to it. Mamori asks Mirei not to hurt some one, so she doesn’t. I’m not a big fan of “love at first sight” type shit, but I can’t help but just fucking adore Mirei’s instant devotion to Mamori. Not just her, but to her thoughts and feelings.

Next up, we have the dynamic duo referred to as “Lady Lady.”

Oh, I cannot say enough about these two. Lady Rain and Lady J. Both are both Liberators and Extars, able to switch between roles as the situation dictates. SWITCH, get it?? One transforms into a sword/gun and the other a badass motorcycle. They claim it isn’t the sex that allows them transform but the strength of their bond. It’s actually quite beautiful how dedicated they are to one another. Former members of a paramilitary government organization, they chose exile and quarantine over being tools of others.

Next up, we’ve got Meifon. Meifon is a schemer obsessed with making a buck. What I adore about her is that she is an asexual/aromantic character. On an island where everyone is fucking everyone all the time. It is such an interesting idea of how someone who doesn’t experience sexual arousal/stimulation in a “typical” way functions on an island where sex is so highly prioritized. It was a really neat idea that I was surprised to see the show tackle. While it isn’t addressed in a super deep or meaningful way, it is an unexpected and nice touch.

The “Governor.” Normally, I am all about avoiding spoilers, but I was surprised that we were supposed to think the governor is a dude. I know sometimes it can be hard to tell in anime, and I am guilty of more than once being like “What a super hot lady!” and it ended up being a fella and cue disappointment. But Akira was clearly a woman from the first time we see her. It wasn’t until the fourth episode that I learned she was supposed to be a “man.” She is so clearly a lady. If you can’t figure that out in ten seconds, you’re as simple as Mamori, bless your heart.

I feel it’s a missed opportunity for Akira not to be trans, but she’s not. She’s just pretending to be a fella for power, to stand out on an island full of women. It would have been a lot more interesting and compelling in my humble opinion. But whatever.

I could go on and on about all the many fantastic characters on this show, but there are a few other things I want to talk about.

1. I usually prefer the original Japanese voice actors, but this is one of the rare times when the opposite is true. The English voice acting is on point, very well acted, and an utter delight. Mirei in particular has a fantastic dead-pan delivery that I adore.

2. This show is hysterically funny. I laughed so hard so many times. Especially during the episode “Giant Girl, Little Heart.” I mean... just look at this:

The giant girl’s name is Nimi Minimi. I can’t even. Dear god. It’s so funny. I have a great appreciation for anything that can make me laugh. There are a lot of jokes about pitching and catching. And this is an actual quote from this episode: “Nimi, you’re the only one who can catch my fastball. Only you can catch my body and soul!” It’s classic.

3. The power and relationship dynamics are very interesting. Poly seems to be a pretty readily accepted practice. Platonic “driving” seems to be a thing. Consent is approached several different ways, and each is very interesting. Another thing this show does well is examine the problems inherent in such a system. It isn’t all girls kissing girls and touchy touchy fun times. There is a lot included on how that power can be abused and what corruption may look like in a hyper-sexualized state. So, maybe trigger warning? I’m pretty sensitive, but I did not find it trigger-y. It was actually nice to see such abuse of power highlighted as abuse without a veiled attempt to make it okay because it’s sexy times between two (or more) women.

4. Story/plot/etc - I’ll be real. The bar was really low when I initially started this. I mean, I didn’t expect much given the premise, but ended up being very pleasantly surprised. The story is reasonably compelling and more thought out than expected. There are more complexities than I anticipated, and it all wraps up neatly at the end of the series in a satisfying way. 

So, I guess that wraps up Valkyrie Drive: Mermaid. Conclusion: Watch it. It’s beautifully NSFW and unashamedly queer. There needs to be more anime like it. I think next I’ll write about Flip Flappers as it was recommended to me on my last post, and it currently holds the number three spot in my heart.

Today marks the fourth week of working from home, so please please please keep the recommendations coming. I have literally nothing to do but work and watch anime, and I’m super grateful for the recs I received already. Thanks. :-)

[adecila]

About those Tyrion endgame spoilers...

As I mentioned to an anon earlier this week, I went back and rewatched two of Friki’s videos discussing his information and details around it and S8. 

The post is long and full of spoilers.

Between [ ] are my comments, in light of 8x01-04. If it sounds in first person it’s because I directly translated some larger parts so just think of it as subtitles of their videos :))

The very first video is this one here from October 25th 2018.

In this video friki & javi say that Bryan Cogman was there at the meeting between GRRM & D&D where GRRM told them the ending of the books. So these are the 4 people who know the ending of GoT and ASOIAF.

There are 2 more people who each know a different part of the ending: the editor of GRRM and person who adapts the books to comic books (5 volumes for now) – so these 2 realised just in 2017 that they had different parts of the ending, so when they met and talked about it, they put the two together and discovered the entire ending. The editor knew the ending of Bran Stark, and the comics adaptor knew the ending of Tyrion Lannister.

Friki is the one who uncovered the Tyrion trial spoiler – Friki’s sources are different from Javi’s. But after Friki’s sources told him about the Tyrion trial, Javi’s sources corroborated the info.

Friki’s info about Tyrion’s trial for treason came from a verified and sure source, directly from the filming of the Dragon Pit site aka Italica in Sevilla. Javi’s other 2 sources (that don’t even know Friki, that Friki doesn’t even know them) that have corroborated the info, are also very sure and reliable (one of which Javi calls special and close to him), and they confirmed that what they filmed in Italica was Tyrion’s trial for treason.

An important nuance to this info: in the trial, the person who leads the trial is Ser Davos Seaworth, but he is using Bran’s testimony, who we can safely say that keeping in mind the previous seasons’ flashbacks, is the most reliable witness one can hope for. And we know they intended to use a similar scene in Littlefinger’s trial, which they deleted, but in which Sansa and Arya went to Bran and asked him for help with Littlefinger, and Bran used his abilities to go back and confirm his treasons. Javi believes they took this scene out to make it even more shocking and dramatic (and so that we’d think Arya was on trial).

In Tyrion’s trial, Bran will be more important, he will speak and he will relate a private conversation between Catelyn Stark and Tyrion Lannister. Friki’s sources told him a phrase that will be revealed “I never bet against my family”, which they haven’t said in the show, but this direct phrase can still change obviously (before the official episode), because he was told that Tyrion’s monologue to defend himself is so good that he would be shocked if he doesn’t get another Emmy for it, it will be very dramatic and emotional [in the books: "Whatever you may believe of me, Lady Stark, I promise you this – I never bet against my family." And I know some people dismissed Friki for this, but Friki never claimed Tyrion said this in the show…].

Circling back, why does the person who adapts the story to the comics knows the endgame of Tyrion Lannister? There’s a phrase from Game of Thrones that’s the theme of Tyrion’s entire arc (which Javi is sure it’s very possible to be this exact phrase Friki heard). The story goes that this dude gave GRRM the first draft of his transformation of 800-900 pages in comic books. And apparently GRRM told him “you’re missing a phrase that is vital for Tyrion’s last scene from the last book”. If we connect this with the fact that the adaptor of the comics said that GRRM told him Tyrion’s ending, then it makes sense for this to fit with what Friki and Javi have corroborated from their sources. This makes Friki think we see the trial and potentially the death (that they cannot confirm because it wasn’t filmed in Seville) through Bran Stark’s eyes aka POV – so if GRRM’s editor knows Bran’s endgame then it means we will get Tyrion’s ending from Bran’s POV (in the books). Which would make sense, because the very first chapter (notwithstanding the prologue) of the books is Bran’s POV, which also relates an execution. In a previous video Javi and Friki were speculating and saying how it would make sense for Bran to close the books, just as he opened them, since it’s a common technique books use. So wouldn’t it be cool to see the echo of that first trial Bran witnesses, of a dude that has been executed for deserting the NW because he claims to have seen the Others, so Ned Stark takes his head (“The man who passes the sentence should swing the sword”)? Javi thinks that it is very important to remember that Ned Stark didn’t care the motives for which the man deserted the NW, the only important thing for him was that he abandoned the NW (here it was to tell humanity about the Others); the punishment for it is death, so he is executed. Hence, he thinks in Tyrion’s trial, it will not matter the reasons why he did it, just that he did it, and the punishment for treason is death. Javi here was thinking it would be a great echo and parallel if Tyrion would kill innocents so that they wouldn’t be turned into Others (wights) [keep in mind, at this point they both thought the NK could arrive in KL, but it was just a theory, not a leak]. So both the NW’s deserter and Tyrion are judged and sentenced, and then executed, and both times from Bran’s POV.

Friki interjects and says Javi just said a semi-spoiler when he said “a person sentenced for provoking the death of innocents” – so then he links this to the new spoilers Javi has: what happened in Belfast? Javi’s sources in Belfast, also very reliable, told him the last scene Peter Dinklage filmed for GoT (which ofc is not the scene that is to come after the one of the trial in Seville, because they don’t film in chronological order, but depending on the sets and schedules and availabilities) this is confirmed as Peter’s last scene in GoT in the last episode; it is not the very last scene of the episode, but one of the scenes of the last episode. Javi keeps saying Peter will definitely win an Emmy for his trial monologue in the Dragon Pit aka Seville.

The scene goes: Tyrion is accompanied by two people – Ser Davos Seaworth and (the King or the Future King of the 7K) Jon Snow, walking through King’s Landing. A lot of people kept arguing back and forth on Jon’s survival in the Dance of dragons above KL [debunked or not, we don’t know yet; maybe Friki said this because REMEMBER AT THAT TIME he trusted Boatsexbaby’s info about the DotD above KL!]. All of this (aka the walk of these 3 characters) happens after the big fire, after the destruction of KL. Apparently he says that he already said that Arya was inside when KL went up in flames, but that she manages to get out because we know Arya is in fact present at Tyrion’s trial. So after KL goes up in flames, we have Jon Snow alive and kicking. They say Davos is leading the trial because Davos has been a witness, together with Jon Snow (King of the 7K or Governor – so his exact title is unconfirmed at this point) of what happened in KL – which is destroyed and is full of carbonized bodies. Javi had a previous information from Belfast that there was a scene with more than 600 extras and they were are yelling and screaming “Open the gates”, which he thinks means that the gates of KL are closed and the people can’t get out when the flames are engulfing KL so this means the flames will finally destroy KL and kill a big part of the population (maybe some manage to get out).

But why did these people die? Who is responsible for all these deaths? Tyrion Lannister. Friki says this is very possible because then we have another scene. Javi goes on to say that scene where Jon, Davos and Tyrion walking together, the camera focuses on Tyrion’s face and his reaction and his face is saying “what have I done?”. Again, the carbonated cadavers in KL is 100% confirmed info.

Why is Tyrion on trial for treason? They say there will be many factors, but one of those very important reasons, is that because of Tyrion hundreds, thousands of innocents have died. Again, Tyrion has a motive for it, he did it so that the people wouldn’t turn into others [again, this was a theory, but it still stands that Tyrion believes he is doing it for the right reasons]. Friki adds that Javi’s sources told Javi that in that scene there are no Others (aka no wights, no WW, nothing). In fact, they told him there are no Others inside the walls surrounding the Red Keep, and generally speaking in KL [I think here they were going off of BSB’s leak of the NK arriving in KL, hence the speculation about Tyrion’s reason of not opening the gates, despite the fact that they both knew here there were no wights or WW in KL!]. So Friki says that to him this means that the invasion of the dead has been contained before the NK arrives in KL and gets millions to add to his Army. Because we know the wights are flammable so it seems reasonable to think that a good solution is to let them go up in flames.

Friki says that this leaves a lot of room for speculation and adds “but then where is the NK killed?”, because he has to be slayed before the destruction of KL happens. Javi said he has no info on this, and he can only theorise. Friki adds “it seems that the dance of the dragons leak may be true, hence why the prequel of it wasn’t picked up…” also Javi adds that a very reliable source said that the rumours of Valyria prequel were all lies. So Friki thought that the NK’s death had not only to happen before the destruction of KL but it also had to do with the dance of dragons [this bit is speculation only!].

[LMAO listen to this] Friki already says it would be such a big mistake to not have a one on one sword fight between Jon Snow and the NK with a new blade made by Gendry with Sam’s and Bran’s help… because we had so many intense stares between Jon and the NK so there’s a build up for something …. ahh Friki, who knew we were in for this much disappointment… then he also theorised how the physical place for this fight is post the dance of dragons; so maybe the KL fire is happening at the same time, which would explain Tyrion’s on the moment decision to not open the gates; and we also were told in S7 y Tyrion himself the population of KL aka 1 million.

Javi thinks that the battle will finish in episode 5 aka second to last, and the 6th will be the aftermath. Whereas friki thinks that we will have the big fight in episode 6 so that we get the climax at the end. But Javi thinks ep 5 because of Sapochnik and ep 6 is aftermath because it’s directed by D&D. Friki also believes in a cliff-hanger (including maybe to make people think Arya is going to die) in the 5th and the resolution in the 6th and we see Arya escaping from the fire (which he is sure she does since she was at the trial).  

Friki then brings up all the aerial shots they filmed and they have to use at some point. He confirms the info he has that there were aerial shots in Iceland [boom 8x01 😉 and 8x04 seeing from the trailer]. They also have info that they also have shots of the Castillo de Almodóvar del Río, which was used as the Castle of Highgarden – which doesn’t make much sense since we have no more Tyrells. So what are they doing with Highgarden? Giving it to Samwell Tarly maybe (Javi thinks so)? Friki says that apparently there are scenes that were filmed in a particular form. It made Friki think of a raven flying over the various castles in Westeros. Javi thinks it would make sense and it reminds him of the end scene of The Wire, which has a review of all the characters and locations in Baltimore. Maybe we’ll get a similar thing with Westeros and the people in GoT, to see how life goes on.

Friki addresses the people who think that Tyrion’s treason doesn’t make sense. But both him and Javi think Tyrion has always been a grey character, that has light but also darkness in him. Javi interjects how he doesn’t like Tyrion because the fandom seems to have raised him up as a saint when he has done very bad things, like killing Shae and his dad, and in the books. He also thinks that Tyrion’s face when boatsex was happening was there for a reason. Friki brings up the behind the scenes with Peter when he is asked about that scene and he says it’s because if these two, jonerys, are together it can complicate things. Then a year-ish later he was asked the same thing and he changed his answer, and suddenly brings up that Tyrion may have feelings for Dany. And Friki also brings up the interview with Jimmy Kimmel who says “you’re one of the good guys”, to which Peter replies “maybe”. Maybe he is being a troll, but this is true. Then Friki brings up how the SFX supervisor jokes how he could tell the journalists in which episode Tyrion dies, but then he changes his tune and acts a bit dramatic about it. Then Peter in an interview before the Emmys talks about Tyrion’s fate and future, and says that he think’s it’s beautiful, even if it’s dramatic or not. So Peter kind of opens the door on the opportunity that Tyrion may end up badly.

And about the legend of unkillable characters, it only applies to the books, not the show, like Arya being the favourite’s character of George’s wife and she said he could kill anyone but Arya. This is book only. And there is no legend about Tyrion. Even if Tyrion is one of George’s favourites, but he said he most identifies with Sam.

Javi is the one to bring up people saying that the end of the series will be jonerys ruling and it would be beautiful and romantic; but if Tyrion dies, it dampens that, makes it bittersweet; or if they are rulers over a destroyed KL because of a big fire, they’re rules of ashes, so it doesn’t seem as beautiful or as romantic of an ending to him. Friki adds that if all these people die in such a traumatic way, how and why would KL be the capital of the 7K?

Javi confirmed that WF will be destroyed and rebuilt. Friki add that another leak he has says that WF is being rebuilt as Tyrion’s trial is happening.

Will KL continue to be the capital? Good question. We should also keep in mind that all the people who are present at Tyrion’s trial it all looks like a Council of the Realm, including the GC. It almost looks like it’s the people who are judging Tyrion. Friki says that he has 2 versions about the person dressed in gold : first version says the person is dressed in GOLD ARMOUR and the second person says in GOLDEN CLOTHES. He sent this second person a picture of Oberyn Martell dressed in gold and he asked “something like this?” and they replied “yes something similar” (Javi doesn’t have this info). But Friki says the contradiction between the two sources is something to keep in mind. Toby Osmond has been identified as a royal, and he is dressed in gold – so this person would perfectly fit in the role these two sources told Friki about. But who is left from Dorne? Javi says that D&D can simply invent a hidden Sand of Oberyn’s or whatever else person to represent Dorne since they fucked it up big time. Javi even says he could be an Yronwood, second most important house after Martell [in 8x04 we got confrimation that Dorne in back in the game and on Dany’s side].

And then the last unknown character is an old dude dressed in green, who has between 50-60 years, with short beard. The theory circulating on the web is that this one is Howland Reed, who would be there to potentially legitimate Jon Snow’s parentage since he was there with Ned (remember we had the Tower of Joy scene). Javi really likes this possibility of it being Howland Reed. Friki says that if D&D don’t take this opportunity to give Howland a big role in the Council of the Realm, they would be fools. So even if this info hasn’t been confirmed, he thinks it would fit well in the grand scheme of things.

Javi is convinced that everything that has to do with Tyrion’s trial comes from GRRM since it will also happen in the books. And GRRM when he was saying some stuff isn’t the same in the two, it was quite close to the release of Fire and Blood, in which we were told the Wall is a magical barrier in both ways, aka the dragons can’t cross it so the wight hunt is invalidated, that’s all D&D.

There was a detail in the Dragon Pit – there is some snow there, but like barely, as if the snow has almost entirely melted down. So how come? If there is almost no snow in the Dragon Pit when we have seen it snowing in KL, it also seems that when the NK dies, the winter goes away. So maybe we’ll get to see it green beyond the Wall. GRRM has always said that the reason for the long winters is magic. So it is logical if the Others disappear, so will the winters.

The second video is this one from February 15th 2019.

Not gonna add much from this one because they rediscuss stuff from the one above. But the important points in this video were:

They bring up the people who say Javi’s and Friki’s sources are not reliable so their spoilers aren’t real. And Javi brings up that some people think that the Dragon Pit scene and Tyrion’s trial is fake. So they basically filmed for an entire week just false scene so that they would get leaked? They say again: what was filmed in Sevilla will for sure happen.

Friki was the very first to get the info; he asked Javi and Javi asked around and his sources (2 different sources) then came through and confirmed what Friki had. Friki has 100% faith in it.

They confirm that the people yell “Open the gates” ; and Watchers on the Wall confirmed that KL burns, and we see buildings’ roofs burning.

Friki and Javi say that WF falls for sure; 

They say they have various sources saying different stuff about Jaime: dying in 8x03 or 8x04 or 8x05.

If I have time, I may rewatch some other old videos and add to this post. 

[beingatoaster]

Found something in my drafts tonight! Everything below the line is from... early 2018? I have no memory of writing it, but if I had bigger plans for it they’re not happening now, so. Might as well hit post.

---

My brain is still on a TAZ kick as I lie in bed here and is currently melding the sad fic I read last week about Taako outliving everybody and my general delight at Governor Kalen Gets Murdered fics.

So it's giving me Kalen, on the run after the Day of Story and Song, because of course the first thing Magnus would do with his newfound fame is execute his revenge--it's what Kalen would do, after all.

And in my headcanon, Kalen is an elf. (I know what the wiki says, but there’s no reason he COULDN’T be an elf.) So he figures all he has to do is outlive Magnus.

Except that even after he does, Kalen is KEPT on the run. And he doesn't understand it. Because Kalen doesn't understand friends. So he rationalizes: the old woman could have been a lover. The detective is a loyal son. The dwarf must owe a blood debt. The orc and the dragonborn, clearly mercenaries. He'll outlive them all, eventually.

He does outlive them all, eventually.

There's cities he still can never visit. A tree tried to kill him in Goldcliff; he was nearly eaten by half-grown purple worms in Refuge; he doesn't dare go near Dolphin Cove. But he's lived in the woods and on the fringes of society for a couple of centuries now, and he's ready to return to civilization at last. Neverwinter, especially, so he can start working his way into politics again.

He goes out to a restaurant one night. It's a nice place, quiet, lots of low light and candles. Not long after he sits down, a nearby table is filled by a party of four, what looks like two elves and two humans. He has a date; he doesn't pay them too much attention.

He gets up and goes to the bathroom; he doesn't see one of the elves get up and wave the rest of the table down, casual, a self-assured flip of his hand. He doesn't pay any attention when the elf follows him into the bathroom. He steps into a stall and shuts the door.

Then the elf who had followed him in starts talking.

“Y’know, for a while, it almost seemed like we’d hurt you just as bad by hunting as we would’ve by finding you, don’t you think? You’re a politician, aren’t you? People like you hate living out in the woods. Not that I’m a big fan either, but you would’ve really hated it. You can’t stick your fingers in everyone else’s pies when you’re afraid to talk to anyone who doesn’t live under a rock! If you’re used to running the show, that’s got to sting worse than a little murder might.”

Kalen stands frozen in the stall, hand hovering over his fly. Is the elf talking to him? He has to be. There’s no one else in the bathroom. And the elf’s rambling hits--very close to home.

“But then we heard about you showing your face in that little village out west. Woodcrest or something? And making friends in Rosehaven. Thought you’d waited long enough, huh? Getting back in the game? And right when we’d started thinking you’d beefed it offscreen somewhere! Anyway, now that you’ve popped back up, cha’boy has a promise to keep.”

Kalen breaks out in a cold sweat. Who is this elf, that he still cares about some dumb brute’s grudge, hundreds of years after anyone else would’ve forgotten?

“Take your time in there,” the elf adds. “There’s something I’m supposed to say, and I’m trying to remember my line.”

Mouth dry, Kalen eases the stall door back open. There’s the elf--there’s Taako, everyone knows his name, even five hundred years later--standing in front of the sink, preening in the mirror. He looks up when he sees Kalen in the reflection.

“He was only a human,” Kalen says, more confused than afraid. Maybe a little offended, even. “Why do you-”

“Now I remember!” Taako spins, and a second ago Kalen would have sworn he was holding a small compact, but now he has a wand in his hand. He raises it, and Kalen only has a moment to take in the sharp, smirking, vicious grin on his face. “This is for Julia.”

There is a bright light, and pain. Incredible pain, just so much agony, seeming to stretch on for another century. Taako didn’t bother to keep this clean. And then Kalen is standing over his body, a ghostly, insubstantial form--or maybe it’s this world that’s becoming insubstantial, the edges tearing away into smoke as he looks.

And there are three figures there, standing spaced around him, at a short distance. One stays back, but the other two move in, spectral fingers closing on his spectral arms.

“Normally we only handle necromancers,” one of them says, somehow managing to sound sheepish and threatening at the same time.

The other grins, a bony jaw somehow shaping itself into a rakish smile. “But this time, we’re making an exception.”

[chaniters]

UPSTAGED

I’ve been promising to write this series for so darn long... Finally got an idea on how to start it. Hope you enjoy it! (Sentai themed. This is just the first part, introducing the setting!) 

--------------------------------------------

"You'll never get what you want, you maniac!"

"Now now, Governor... let us keep calm. My terms have been most generous."

"We can't negotiate with terrorists! You know that!"

"I do. But we both know what will happen if I use my disintegration touch on the West Coast's entire gold reserves"

"Ha! The Rangers will stop you!"

"I doubt that, considering I locked them down myself in one of the vaults." You let out a loud cackle.

You got him. You can hurt the system right where it hurts. Money. If the reserves are out, west-coast dollars will lose all value, destabilizing its flourishing economy, the only reason it's status as a free economic zone was never revoked.   And a place like the farm cannot operate in the main country. They have real laws there. Still, it isn't a sure bet. A million things could go wrong if you actually destroy the economy. Too unpredictable. But you know they'll have to relent.

Unpredictable is something the politicians at play hate just as much as you do.

"W... Damnit! Damn you freak...! You wouldn't dare do it! Do you know how much chaos that would cause?"

"Of course I do Governor. And there are many other banks for me to visit after this one, you know... unless you want to tell the world you can't your valuables safe?"

"Go to hell!" he yells exasperated. "I know you won't do it! There's nothing for you to win in this! Why don't you just steal some of the gold?" He doesn't get it. He can't understand that you don't care about money at all.

"You test my patience governor. Perhaps a little demonstration is in orde..." You are interrupted by a loud siren noise from the Governor's office. "What is that?"

"It's the citywide alarm system... what's going on? Are we at war?" the Governor turns to one of his aides, who fumbles a remote control to turn on the TV.

You activate a console on your helm to watch as well. Is he trying to gain time? Maybe you should make a third of the gold reserve evaporate... that ought to make him reconsider.

The Governor's TV settles on the main news channel, as do you.

Mia Ochoa is in Los Diablos according to the labels, reporting from under a table, as pieces of ceiling fall all over. She appears to be at a bar. What the hell is going on and how did you not catch up on it sooner?

"... there is a very unstable situation on the ground, that is unfolding very quickly. The floating disc descended from high altitude at great speed and emitted a blue ray over the fields, which released a swarm of humanoid creatures armed with energy weapons. They are firing indiscriminately on civilians!"

"Quickly! Call all of Los Diablos police stations! Contact Los Diablo's Mayor! Send in the National Guard!" The Governor seems to be going into overdrive mode as his aids run back and forth.

Mia goes on with her reporting.

"I will try to get some images for our viewers! I remind you, we are risking our lives doing this so we might not be able to get the best takes. Also, we might see graphic violence!"

Fuck. Mia Ochoa does not back down, you have to give her that.

The film crew creeps to the bar's door, and soon enough, you can see the armed soldiers. They seem to be wearing similar outfits and move in a robotic fashion. Drones? Worse of all, there is a giant spinning metal disc floating above them. They start firing again and the Mia Ochoa and her camera crew go back inside.

You mute the governor's and the news channels open a third one to Mortum's lab.

"Doctor, are you seeing this?"

"Afraid so Retribution."

"Is this for real?"

"I think so. Never seen anything like this."

"Thank you. I'll get back to you later...I'll be at the lab soon" You close Mortum's and Mia Ochoa's channels and focus on the Governor again.

"Afraid I'm going to have to leave you Retribution," he says.

"WHAT?" you ask outraged.

"I've got a bit of a situation on my hands, can't you see?"

"But the gold reserves..."

"Are irrelevant if I lose an entire city to an alien invasion. All I can say is please don't do it? Thank you"

"..." awkward silence as you have no idea what to even say after that.

"Anyways, I really have to go so..."

"WAIT!" You plead, the roles reversed.

"What for?"

"There might be a win-win situation here... you know what I want. And you have a bit of a situation in your hands. What If I helped deal with it...?"

"You mean work for us? Fight off those things"

"Yes," you say finally.

"I could consider it...yes... You know what if all you want me to do is close that camp of horrors from the feds, I can do it. I'll fucking evict them from the entire West Coast if you want. But I want results!”

“Oh, I’ll get you results! I’ll exterminate those things so fast they won’t know what hit them!” you say energetically

“Also, I want you to release the rangers. We need all hands on deck"

"...fine" you grumble with a complete loss of your previous enthusiasm.

A wave of cold anger flows through your body as you walk towards the smaller vault. You've never done any of this out of revenge or seeking fame, but having someone steal your thunder like this when the governor was right at the palm of your hand..., even if it's an alien... it just makes your blood boil. Whoever's responsible is going down. Big time.

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

"HARDER!" Steel commanded as Herald flung him at high speed against the vault's reinforced gate at great speed. Ortega and Argent joined with a combined strike, but the gate remained impervious.

"Fuck! It's no use!" Charge cursed outraged. Argent continued slashing at the metal, only creating superficial marks. Herald looked defeated, and Steel just studied the gate with his sensors, trying to find a weakness. There was none.

"You're right" he let on sitting on a pile of gold bars. "He got us good this time"

"FUUUUCK!" Charge went on kicking a few bars against the wall. Argent just kept slashing.  

"That's not helping" Herald muttered while trying to get signal with his cellphone.

"At least I'm doing something!" Argent replied breathing heavily. "You'll never get signal! We're in a sealed VAULT!"

"The kid's right" Steel spoke tiredly. "Even if we can’t get signal we have to get someone to open it from the outside. It's not going to magically open just because you..."

And then the gate did just that, unsealing itself.

The Rangers gathered together, shocked to see Retribution on the other side.

"What gives? Lost something here?" Steel asked sarcastically walking over the gate ready to fight. The other rangers assume fighting stances behind him.

"Only my time." His terrifying voice lacked the characteristical aggressiveness this time. "Come out already, we've got a lot of work to do," he said motioning them out.

Steel looked puzzled but then advanced striking a warrior's pose. "I don't know what game you're playing or what you're planning, but it will never succeed! And we'll never EVER work with you!"

"Well tough luck hunk because you're totally going to be seeing a lot more of me! Oh, and by the way, you better hurry to Memorial Park unless you want to be late for your first alien invasion!" He said, before pressing a palm to the bank's wall which instantly dissolved, creating a circular hole for him to escape with his jump jets.

"The fuck?" Steel was astonished

"Did she just call you hunk?" Charge asked with a wide grin.

"What do you mean she? Retribution's clearly a guy!" Steel replied.

"Oh wow... I didn't think you were into...him"

"Wha... No, I mean... I never meant it that way..."

"Come on... first I learn you're gay, now you're really wanting that one to be a guy... I can see where this all leads Chen!"

"THAT'S NOT WHAT I MEANT YOU IDIOT!"

"Yeah right," Ortega was cracking in laughter by now.

"Hey I've got phone signal finally," Herald says. "The Mayor's calling us! And the Governor too! We've got to go to Memorial Park right now!"

"Let's go, Herald... They'll catch up when they grow up" Argent said hurrying to the Ranger's helicopter dragging floating Herald by his arm.

Steel and Ortega soon followed.

____________________________

My fanfics: https://chaniters.tumblr.com/post/181692759294/my-fanfiction-for-fallen-hero

DISCLAIMER: This is a work of fan fiction using characters and the setting of the Fallen Hero: Rebirth and upcoming Fallen Hero: Retribution games written by Malin Riden. I do not claim ownership of any characters from the Fallen Hero wold. These stories are a work of my imagination, and I do not ascribe them to the official story canon. These works are intended for entertainment outside the official storyline owned by the author. I am not profiting financially from the creation of these stories, and thank the author for her wonderful game/s, without which these works would not exist.

[istheresomebodywhocanimagine]

Thank you, love! Can I please have a double ship? I’m a fat bottomed girl who is a tomboy - I’m not into typical “girly” stuff and I love hanging around with boys discussing politics, sports (I’m a huge sports nerd), listening to metal. I love war movies and am interested in history (WWII especially) though I’m studying Journalism. I also don’t like wearing skirts or dresses or heels. I’m a loyal friend who will always be there to listen and help you. I’m very clumsy and often trip over my feet.

Sssssssshello fellow sports fan (i’m not even joking even though that sounds so nerdy) so what do u think about the kc royals i know they suck ass but like.... im so dedicated to my boys and i’ve seen them kick the yankees ass at yankee stadium (FUCK YOU JOE MAZZELLO)

ships r below the cut sjkdfjkds

For BoRhap, I ship you with Joe Mazzello!

For obvious reasons - I mean, a girl that’s into sports and is extremely loyal? Joey Mazz would bus a nutttt

Anyways, you’d probably meet Joe while doing some work as a sports journalist. Deciding against the box seat that you usually took during a Yankee’s game for focus reasons, you opted to sit down with the public in the stands, and you got seated next to Joe.

Joe was respectable enough for most of the game - once he got a bit loose on the juice, though, he had some mouthy tendencies, and every last word was directed angrily at the officials. 

At one point, he was so angry that you couldn’t hold in your laughter as you kept book, missing a tally for a ball but not caring too much as you stared in amazement at the fiery copper-headed man beside you. His double-black Yankees hat fell off of his head as he stood abruptly, and you took your boot-clad feet off of the seat in front of you as you leaned down to grab it for him. 

“Fucking terrible call! That was in the strike zone, that ump is full of shit,” he muttered as he sat back down in a huff, pausing before getting a curious look on his face and starting to search for his hat.

“Looking for this?” you asked, a teasing edge to your voice, and Joe’s attention snapped over to you, recognition immediately flooding his eyes as he smiled gratefully and took the hat.

“Thanks a ton, I just can’t stand those damn umps sometimes.” Looking down at the stat book on your tablet, he raised an eyebrow in inquiry before pulling his hat back on his head. “Keeping book for anything special?”

“I work for the New York Post. Sports columnist,” you explained, locking your screen to save battery after a strike was finally called and the fourth inning came to a close. Joe made a ‘not bad’ face, then gave you a grin.

“So, Yankees fan?”

“Uh, you know it,” you scoffed, nodding as you looked out to the field and smiled before making eye contact with him again. He had a kind gaze, you noted, and his smile was just as evident in his eyes as it was in his actual smile. “Wouldn’t miss a game for the world. Not even that exhibit on Governor’s right now.” You felt your stomach flipping a bit, Joe watching you very intently and almost intimidating you with how genuinely invested he was in what you had to say.

“The World War II one?” Joe inquired, and he chuckled when you made a positive noise in response. “I was in a show about WWII a couple years ago. Maybe you’ve heard of it? The Pacific?”

“That was you?” you gasped, involuntarily reaching out and grabbing his arm. Although the both of you registered it, you awkwardly decided not to say anything and just continued talking, Joe trying to mask his reaction at the tingly feeling your touch left on his arm. “Holy shit, I loved that show! I didn’t even recognize you.” Laughing, you let go of his arm and just paused for a moment, recalling how excited you’d been about that miniseries.

“Yeah, not my biggest claim to fame, but definitely up there. Still doesn’t get me recognized at baseball games, though. I got that more in the 90′s.”

“The 90′s - you must have been a baby!” you teased, in disbelief that he was any older than 25. There was no way he was anything but a toddler back in the 90′s.

“God, the closer I get to my 30s, the more that excites me,” he laughed, shaking his head. “Unfortunately, I was a little more than a baby back then. I was a whole, grown kid.”

“Grown kid - what a paradox,” you scoffed, giving him a gentle eye roll as a few people around you chuckled at something. “Alright, I’ll bite - in the 90′s, what were you in?”

“Would you believe me if I said some commercials and that was it?” Pursing your lips, you gave him an unmoved look and he chuckled, raising his hands in surrender. You were surprisingly adorable despite the currently deadpan expression. In fact, he was beginning to like all of your expressions, and all of your mannerisms. You were pretty laid-back for a woman of your age - like you were comfortable not putting up a front around him and men in general. “I was in Jurassic Park.”

“No way!” you gasped, thinking back to the movie and vaguely remembering a little boy around your age that had resembled him. “Oh my god, all I remember about it is that I wanted to be your friend... and I had an embarrassingly big crush on Jeff Goldblum.”

“Oh god, me too,” Joe agreed, waving a hand dismissively at the thought that anyone didn’t feel things for Jeff Goldblum.

Some faint laughter and shifting glances around you suddenly distracted you from your intense conversation with Joe, and you looked around for a moment before groaning and shielding your eyes at the jumbotron, trying not to laugh. “We’ve been called out.”

Joe looked at the large screen to see the both of you with a superimposed timer beneath you, dubbed the “Oblivious Cam.” You’d both been so invested in the conversation, they’d nearly been timing you for a minute by the time you realized. Waves of embarrassment washed over the two of you as you realized everyone in the stadium had watched what you had assumed was a mainly private interaction. Suddenly, the hand on the arm thing was mortifying.

“Well, at least we look good,” Joe offered, waving to the camera and shrugging before they kicked it off, going into the fifth inning. Joe was right, he did look damn good. And the fact that he thought you looked good too, despite your lack of commonplace women’s wear around a baseball game (see: tight-fitting unbuttoned jerseys, short shorts, heels, etc.). You’d shown out in some jeans and a ratty jersey you’d had since God knows when, with some combat boots to pull it all together. And he still thought you looked good.

He very much did. He thought you looked so good, in fact, that he took you out for drinks after the game. And then sitting down with the public became a regular occurrence for you - even though Joe wasn’t at every game, he showed up to far more games than he would have regularly, just so he could see you. But he’d never admit that, not even up to the day that he asked you out.

Which, of course, you’d been floored - men usually don’t ask out one of the boys. But you said yes, of course! And a couple months later, when he offered to fly you out to California to see the baseball movie he’d been working on about his brother, you jumped at the opportunity.

Mainly because it was an away time for Yankees.

Oops.

When you showed up on set with Joe, the cast immediately welcomed you as one of their own, and you took up residence in the bleachers/near the fence, psyched to see what they were working on for the day and also stoked because you’d probably become an extra because of this appearance. Acting credits on top of journalism? Score.

Today was the day they were filming Pat’s breakdown, and you were excited to see just how riled up Joe could get as you leaned against the admittedly searing-hot chain-link fence. Between takes, Toby, who’d taken quickly to befriending you, came over in all his English glory to visit with you about the upcoming shots.

“You ready to see Spaz Mazz?” he joked, making you laugh at the corny nickname as you nodded, letting go of the chain-link for a moment.

“Absolutely. I’ve seen Joe at baseball games, so can’t wait to see who he absolutely rails today.”

“Well, it’s your lucky day, because it’s me,” Toby chuckled, fixing his hat as Joe caught sight of the two of you, smiling and waving before going back to whatever directorial duties he was working on. Waving back, Toby sighed melodramatically before turning to you. “He yells at quite a few of us, but in the table-read, he really let me have it in this scene. The struggles of being the fun one,” he lamented, making you roll your eyes and wish him good luck as Joe called for the next shot to start.

And in a few moments, you saw exactly what Toby meant. Well, not saw. You just got to listen as Joe absolutely went off on Manny’s character in the dugout, a gleeful laugh leaving your lips as you heard him threaten to shove a bat up Zapata’s ass, then yelling at Palacco for shitting away his talent. After the more emotional part, you burst out laughing when a sudden, “Oh, shut the fuck up, Zapata!” rang in your ears.

Covering your mouth quickly, you resorted to just grinning while you listened to them methodically reconstruct the scene over and over, taking several shots in the mid-afternoon heat before deciding to call it since the lighting was waning, not providing for the right time of day for the shot that was slotted next.

Joe was one of the last to finally filter off the field, finding you immediately and giving you a mildly-tired grin as he wrapped his arm around you, walking off towards the parking lot with you. 

“Toby said Seb’s in town and wants to meet up for dinner with Chace and us. You hungry?”

“Starving,” you affirmed, leaning against him a bit as you climbed up the hill. “That was an... interesting performance. You sound a little hoarse.”

“Yelling all day can wear a guy out,” he agreed with a small chuckle, pulling out his keys to his rental and stopping in front of the car to just stand with you for a moment. The eye-black on his cheeks was smeared from sweat, his hair a mess, and you could definitely tell he was slouching a bit, tired from the day’s proceedings.

But he still was smiling down at you, and you couldn’t help but smile back before leaning up and wrapping your arms around his neck, pulling him into an affectionate kiss, which he eagerly reciprocated. 

His arms wrapped around your waist, hands resting dangerously low on your back, but not enough to raise alarms, and you grinned against his lips before pressing a gentle peck to the lower one, murmuring just loud enough for him to hear.

“I like the baseball pants look on you.”

A throaty chuckle escaped his mouth and he gave you one last kiss before wrapping an arm around your waist and ushering you to the passenger seat, letting you open the door and start climbing in yourself before he swiftly reached out and pinched your ass, closing the door for you with an innocent grin on his face when you shot him a warning look.

“Couldn’t help myself,” he defended when he climbed into the driver’s seat after a few moments. “You brought up butts and you know yours is my favorite butt.”

“I’m glad,” you laughed, shaking your head as you watched him start the car, sucking your lower lip into your mouth for a moment before grinning mischievously. “But I wasn’t talking about your butt, though that was nice too.”

Joe’s eyes lit up at your statement, a light flush filling his cheeks as he wrestled with what you’d just suggestively implied. Looking over to you, his jack went slightly slack, and all he could manage was a soft “Oh.”

“Smooth, babe. Real smooth.”

“You caught me off guard, come on!”

And for Queen, I ship you with Brian May!

We all know that Brian struggled with being raised as a rather womanly boy, so your more masculine personality equals out beautifully with his feminine tendencies. In categories where he lacks a masculine touch, you make up for that absence, and when you have issues with a feminine touch, he’s right there to help you along.

Synergy!

Plus, heart eye emoji at the fact that you’re a fat-bottomed girl.

Anyways, I think you and Brian would be lifelong friends. The tall ol’ softie never would have survived high school without his loyal best friend, you, to guide him through that emotional rollercoaster.

But I really don’t think you’d have a crush on him at first. I think he’d be absolutely smitten with you from the get-go - you were his rock, the only person to ground him when he got too high-strung. But because of his tendencies to be high-strung and eternally confused, you never saw him as more than a close friend.

That is, until one night that you were hanging out with him and the boys, and Roger had you caught up in a particularly in-depth conversation about Black Sabbath’s eponymous album that had been released recently. 

Roger was your go-to for anything metal related, which made Brian only slightly jealous as he watched the two of you intensely discuss whether you appreciated the blues notes that they brought to some of the songs on the album. 

“I think The Wizard is the most genius one out of all of them!” Roger gushed, and you nodded in agreement as you listened to him start to ramble on about how much he loved the song. Always the listener, you only let your eyes roam for a brief moment, pausing when you saw Brian just past Roger’s scruffy golden-brown hair.

When he caught your eye, he sent you a small smile and a brief eye roll about Roger’s rants that made you grin, and you quickly looked back to Roger as he summarized his opinion, finally. “I agree, but what about N.I.B? You can’t tell me that it isn’t up there on the quality list.”

When Roger began to dissent against your opinion, you quickly excused yourself to go grab another drink and left him to simmer, instead making your way to the kitchen and pouring yourself the rest of the whiskey as Brian entered.

“Sounds like you guys had some really important stuff to discuss,” Brian observed as he pouted slightly at the empty whiskey bottle, instead fetching himself a beer.

“I love Roger, but he could talk my ear off if I didn’t learn when to say no.” Chuckling, your lanky friend joined you at your side and leaned back against the counter, opening his beer while you took a sip of the whiskey in your cup. He watched as your nose just barely wrinkled compared to the way that his scrunched up after every sip of straight bourbon, and admiration quickly overtook his features, not able to slip away fast enough when you looked up at him.

“What?” you laughed, cocking your head a bit when he smiled at you oddly, sitting his beer on the counter. “I know I left my flat in a hurry, but do I really look that rough today?”

“No, no,” he stammered, laughing nervously as he looked forward to observe your friends out in the living room. His heart was racing, and he feared that you could hear it from that close as he swallowed hard, speaking again. “Far from it.”

That brought a slight blush to your cheeks, and you looked forward as well, your brain racing a million miles a minute as you tried to calm down. Brian usually never made you this flustered, so it was confusing to you that such a simple comment could spike your heart rate so easily. What happened?

Looking over to him again, you desperately tried to work out what was different about Brian now versus every other time he’d made an offhanded flirtatious comment all throughout your childhood. He was still looking at the living room, his eyes brimming with something unreadable, and you realized how much he’d grown from the spindly little straight-haired preppy boy you’d grown up with. 

Now he was even taller in multiple ways - of course, his height had shot up, but he also held himself in a more confident way too. He was unafraid for the most part, far from the nervous wreck you’d spent hours upon hours convincing to go do hoodrat shit with you. 

He was so sure of things now. Even if he had momentary doubts, he’d never been focused on something more than he was with the band. 

And, it did help that he was absolutely beautiful now. He’d began growing out his hair, and the curls that were on constant display were fascinating, jet-black and shiny and tempting to touch. His aquiline nose and toothy smile only added to the charm, all of it wrapped together by the warm hazel eyes that were always watching you, like right now, and suddenly you realized you were both staring at each other a moment too late as Roger came in, looking between the two of you.

Deciding against the obvious question, he instead raised an eyebrow and looked over to the empty whiskey bottle to your right, scowling. “Who did it?”

Thoroughly flustered and distracted, you took a moment to realize that Brian was pointing directly to you, and with an astonished cry, you smacked his hand away, cursing him as he laughed at you.

And from there, a slow burn of a friends-to-lover flame was alight. And I mean slow, as in not reaching culmination until 1973 or 1974, when they were really starting to make it big-time. After all, this was a ‘one of the boys’ relationship you’d had going on previously, so navigating from that to accepting your attraction to Brian and his requited attraction to you was difficult.

You’d never realized how much you really wanted to be more than just his friend until he was off on the Queen II tour and you’d gotten a call from Roger telling you that they were heading back suddenly, due to Brian’s rapidly declining health. And in those hours between that call and their arrival in London, you’d never felt more afraid. 

Suddenly, you knew exactly what it was like to be on Brian’s side of things, so you rushed to the hospital to see him.

He was yellow, so off-color, and he looked so weak when you saw him that you almost started crying when he managed a smile at your appearance. 

“Jesus, Brian, you’ve caught your death,” you muttered as you stood there next to his bed, knowing you couldn’t really touch him - that was the worst part. Now, more than ever, you wanted to hug him. But the risk of transfer was daunting, and you didn’t know if it was aggressive enough to be transmitted even by an embrace.

“Feels like it,” he laughed, his voice softer than ever before, and you frowned as you decided holding his hand was enough, taking the yellowing fingers between yours and lacing your hand with his, squeezing it gently when he gave you another soft smile. “Glad you’re here.”

“Wish we were anywhere but here, honestly,” you replied gently, on the verge of tears at the sight of your best friend so weak. “Do you need anything? Water? Food? A book?”

“Oh, shut up,” he mumbled at your fussing, a small laugh leaving his lips as he closed his eyes. “All I need right now is you. Thank you.”

“Never in my life would I expect to be thanked for hanging around and annoying the daylights out of you. Don’t you get tired of me, May?” you teased softly, trying to ease up the atmosphere as his thumb traveled over your knuckles slowly, the calloused, scratchy pad of this thumb leaving small white marks on your skin where it irritated you.

“Never,” he croaked out, so quiet you almost missed it, but a blush spread on your cheeks as you realized what needed to be said. It was now or never, and honestly, Brian was never going to have the balls to say it. That, unfortunately, was your department.

“Good. Because unfortunately, I really think you’re stuck with me for good now.”

“What?” he asked, not fully understanding what you were propositioning, although there was a hint of hope in his eyes as he opened them slowly, looking over at you. 

“I think it’s about time we went on a proper date. You and me.” You gave him a sly smile, seeing a shallow fluttering of his chest as he reckoned with what you’d just said. 

“Right now?” he whined softly, looking around at the room and sighing. “You really picked the worst time to decide that you fancied me back.”

“Oh, shut up.” It was your turn to send him an annoyed look as you stood up, giving his hand one last squeeze before heading towards the door, stopping right before you got there and looking back at him. “Anything you want me to smuggle up from the cafeteria for our date?”

He watched you for an exceedingly long time, staying completely silent and just admiring you before finally swallowing dryly and laughing a bit. “I wish I could kiss you right now.”

“I don’t think that’s on the menu down there, sorry, lovie.” He rolled his eyes at your attempt at teasing, and closed his eyes as you grinned to yourself, practically floating down the hallway on pure love.

[ask-jaghatai-khan]

MK11 Roster ranked for Warhammer

// Since I’m on a Mortal Kombat kick. How would each character from the Mortal Kombat 11 vanilla roster fair in either Warhammer? I’m keeping it to the playable roster since all the DLC characters haven’t been revealed yet and I didn’t want to have this post be five miles long. Might do more in the future, however.

Let’s face it, most of these psychos are gonna do pretty well. They regularly get into punch-outs with gods. The biggest problem will likely be which attitudes get them singled out by their allies.

Jade

40k: Decently well. She has many of the makings of an Imperial Inquisitorial acolyte or an Eldar Exarch. Extreme combat skill and mild psychic power are usual marks of greatness. Also very good at subtle politicking. Might be a bit of a pushover though.

AoS: Even better! Less stigma over her magical abilities, slightly more reasonable allies, and less likely to have to fight power-armored super soldiers.

Erron Black

40k: You can already play as this guy in Dark Heresy. Pretty much any Rogue Trader would be happy to hire this guy, and he’s too stupid to be bribed with anything other than cash.

AoS: Limited opportunities due to lack of good personal guns. Might get on well in some kind of mercenary group from Chamon or Hysh, but his rogue nature still wouldn’t earn him many connections.

Kabal

40k: Super-speed and melee skill are good, but only get you so far. If nobody grabbed him as an assassin, he’d still make a killing as a gang boss, and I think he’d be fine with that.

AoS: Probably even better chances of success, but it’s gonna be sucky with those third-degree burns given the lack of things like high-end prosthetic rebreather masks.

Kung Lao

40k: Kung Lao is absolutely a Rogue Trader/Dark Heresy character. He’s gonna get a lot of weird looks, but assuming that hat can cut through power armor, he’ll probably get on just fine. His big mouth might earn him some enemies, though.

AoS: Again, since he uses a low-tech weapon and martial arts, he’s even better in a fantasy setting. The entire Shaolin Temple would do pretty well for themselves in the Mortal Realms.

Sub-Zero

40k: A cryomancer? Seems suspect of heresy. Then again, a cryomancer who hates the undead and can fight as good as an assassin? Seems like prime Inquisitorial material!

AoS: Nagash’s grip is cold, but if Sigmar can get the Lin Kuei on his side, he’s got a lot to gain. Kuai Liang is as great a leader as he is a warrior and mage.

Scorpion

40k: Absolutely corrupted by Chaos, but I think most Chaos Lords would still be reluctant to run into Hanzo Hasashi. Less of a chance he could redeem himself, but even more of a chance for him to wreak absolute havoc on anyone who tries and betray him. Hellfire is plentiful in 40k.

AoS: A better chance for redemption, and even more utility from his ninja skills on top of the hellfire. Whoever has their grips on Scorpion’s soul, whether it’s Nagash or Chaos, better double-check just how strong that grip is.

Cetrion

40k: She’s a god! On the scale of 40k, she’s at a bit of a disadvantage, but being a god is never gonna hurt. She better just steer clear of Slaanesh.

AoS: Again, she’s a god! Set up shop in Ghyran and kick back with Alarielle in the “kill absolutely anybody who messes with our utopia” clubhouse.

Frost

40k: Cryomancer cyborg assassin is hardly the weirdest profession in 40k, and her conniving nature should help her out plenty whether she wants to work with the AdMech, DarkMech, or some other group of bastards.

AoS: Shame she couldn’t keep the robot body, but cryomancer assassin is still more than enough to raise some hell in the Mortal Realms. Nagash’s clubhouse seems most her style.

Baraka

40k: This guy would do well as King Mook of a group of Chaos mutants. That’s pretty much what he is anyways.

AoS: Same meat, different sausage. Being a half-demon warlord may not make you immortal, but it’s hardly a disadvantage.

Raiden

40k: His character and storyline makes him a solid fit for a high-end Inquisitor. Psychic might and leadership skills, with a tendency to turn into a psychotic templar? Tell me that doesn’t sound like a classic Inquisitor.

AoS: As a storm-god, he’d get on even better. He might even have the makings of a mighty Sacrosanct wizard. He’s already attuned to Azyr!

D’Vorah

40k: By the standards of some xenos races, she’s not really a top concern, but D’Vorah knows this and would make the most of what she has. Everyone’s so concerned about Chaos and Tyranids, they don’t even notice when they’re suddenly overrun by the Kytinn.

AoS: Set up in some blighted corner of Ghyran, out of sight but with plenty of foolish heroes to snack on, D’Vorah would do about as well as she’s done in Outworld.

Jax

40k: Eat your heart out, Straken. Or rather, eat your arm off. Jax has all the makings of a Guard commander, though his heart might be a bit too soft to finish his career free of scars to his mind and soul.

AoS: I’m sure someone in Chamon or Hysh could hook the man up with some new arms. Either that, or he’d make for a good Stormcast!

Geras

40k: Who the hell is this guy? Does he work for the Necrons? The Ordo Chronos? Wherever he came from, that archaeotech is going to make him a nightmare for whoever gets in the way of his inscrutable goals.

AoS: Even weirder! He must be some Age of Myth construct left behind in Hysh. Maybe a fractured remnant of a lost God of Law? Either way, he’d probably be more akin to a terrain obstacle in Underworlds than a regular enemy.

Kano

40k: There’s about fifty of this bastard on every world in the Imperium. Maybe he’d help out Chaos, but at the end of the day the Black Dragon is all Kano needs. His smug mug is going to be on wanted posters from Terra to Ultramar.

AoS: Who the hell keeps smuggling Chaos Dwarf cannons into Azyr? What maniac stole a warehouse’s load of weaponry from Hammerhal and sold them to damn greenskins?! If that bastard even looks at a Stormvault I want at least three merc companies sent to hunt him down!

Cassie Cage

40k: The Imperium loves legacy careers! Explains where she gets all those fancy toys from. Inheriting her dad’s mouth is going to make her time in the Schola rough, though.

AoS: A loyal ranger best suited for exploring Stormvaults and hunting down powerful champions. Chaos Lords best not underestimate her, she’s more than meets the eye.

Kotal Kahn

40k: Thank god we managed to find a governor able to rein control of that sector. Not often someone can purge Chaos that efficiently, especially a Feral World-born. Keep an eye on him in case of further developments, however...

AoS: The last of the Osh-Tekk might not worship Sigmar, but he’s a mighty and ruthless ally in the fight against Chaos and undead encroachment. A powerful priest and warrior of the light.

Skarlet

40k: Chaos could always use more assassins. You’d think more people would be looking into blood magic, but the rarity of it just means less competition and counters. Skarlet is every Inquisitor’s worst nightmare.

AoS: Same blood, different vein! Powerful dark magic and assassin skills are hard to knock.

Sonya Blade

40k: A peerless and loyal leader of the Guard. Maybe her choice of friends isn’t the cleanest, but her results can hardly be blamed.

AoS: The Free Peoples always need more competent generals, and even mortal leaders are expected to be able to kick some ass one-on-one. Even if she gets demolished, I think Sigmar was waiting for an excuse to reforge her.

Johnny Cage

40k: Movie stars aren’t so popular in the Imperium, but shining examples of the might of the common man over the unknowable alien? That’s good, even if he never shuts up. Charisma and fighting skill will get you far even if you’re surrounded by enemies. Probably for the best he gets Sonya on his side, though.

AoS: Less likely to be killed for snarky blasphemy! Also everyone’s so damn serious all the time, mockery would probably make for as effective a weapon as magical fists.

Noob Saibot

40k: I swear I’ve seen this type of guy before in Chaos’ toolbox. A shadow-daemon sorcerer assassin? Subtlety is a rare trait among Chaos,  so it might make for a powerful advantage.

AoS: There are some parts of Ulgu best avoided. Laugh at the name all you want, just not if you’re standing in the shadows.

Kollector

40k: Mutant or xenos, his ass-kissing skills will serve him well when he inevitably sets himself up with some Chaos Lord. Obviously without plentiful Forge Worlds to draw from, it would best suit your unholiness to hire someone who can scavenge much valuable plunder, yes?

AoS: Hardly different. Having a sticky-fingered mutant to oversee the finances of your kingdom leaves more time for a Chaos Lord to stick to taking skulls and planning conquests.

Kitana

40k: This character absolutely already exists in 40k. Planetary governor turned out to be a heretic? Well thank the Emperor his assassin daughter is amicable!

AoS: Fan blades seem like something a Khainite would enjoy, but thankfully Kitana is more restrained. Diplomatic skill, martial might, and a cool weapon gimmick will help her fit right in!

Jacqui Briggs

40k: Another military legacy, which is always a benefit. Also extremely skilled in combat and making inter-service connections. Probably has a better chance at a legit command position due to her personality over Cas, who’d be better relegated to black ops.

AoS: Again, great warriors and generals are always in high demand. As a commander of the Freeguild or the Stormcast, Jacqui even looks like one of the new warrior-women models GW likes to release nowadays.

Liu Kang

40k: Another mighty champion from outside the Astartes for a change. Liu Kang has protagonist energy, and even if kung-fu is rare in 40k, that’s enough to get you pretty far. Especially when he has such powerful friends.

AoS: More chances to flex those fists, less stigma around summoning fire and turning into a dragon, and he’s still a trusted friend of many generals and demigods.

[twdeadfanfic]

Life at the end of the world Pt.19

Summary: Your life as a zombie apocalypse survivor. It starts with the Reader settling into the camp at the quarry, before s1 and then follows the show events and storyline, more or less, but with the Reader in it.

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader

Warnings: Slow burn, violence, language.

Author’s note:  I’ve been itching to write a fic like this for a long while and I write it for fun, I don’t claim to be a writer so if you find you dislike this fic, please be kind and just stop reading. English’s not my first language so maybe there’re some mistakes, I apologize in advance. For the same reason, I can’t write character’s accents and things like that. At any rate, I hope you enjoy it. There’d be several parts to this.

Masterlist

You couldn’t help but be saddened at the image of your cells emptied of your things. You had begun to feel they were yours, had thought they were becoming rooms as you made a home out of the prison...now the cellblock looked abandoned.

“Everything will work out.” Carol squeezed your hand. “We’ll be back.”

You nodded and went to help everyone to carry your things into the cars and out of the prison. The idea was to make the Governor believe you had abandoned it and gone away, just to then attack him by surprise.

You had reviewed the plan again and again. It needed to work or the Governor was sure to kill you all.

Rick and Michonne would hide inside the prison to wait for the Governor’s men to come in, along with Carol and Daryl. One group would turn on the generations to make the alarm blast, bringing all the walkers around to them, while the others would throw smoking bombs at the men, trapping them with the monsters.

Glenn, Maggie and you would stay one in each platform to shoot at the men that’d manage to get away from the walkers.

Hershel, Beth, and Carl would hide with baby Judith outside the prison. Carl had been complaining about it all the time, wanting to stay in the prison and fight, but there was no way his father, or any of you, would allow it. He had been glaring at all you all the time right until he had to leave.

You grunted under the weight of the riot vest, Maggie had tightened its straps enough to fit you, but it was still too big for you and you resented its heaviness but knew it would help you against the bullets of the Governor’s men.

It was a luck you didn’t need to move much, just enough to lift your shotgun to shoot and to duck and hide behind your armored pallets.

You were hidden now, waiting for your key to attack, the alarm of the prison. You were worried about the others inside, if they weren’t careful they could end up being attacked by the same walkers they were trying to throw at your enemies.

Soon after the alarm started blasting, you heard the panicked shouts of the men as they exited the cellblock, and you, Maggie and Glenn sprung into action. Some part of your mind thought you ought to be terrified, as you wildly shoot at the men and bullets flew back to you, but you had gone into action mood, you needed to survive, to help your family, so you aimed, shot and duck from bullets almost automatically.

After what felt like a few seconds to your adrenaline ridden self, the Governor and his men got into their vehicles and drove away from your home.

“We did it!”

You heard Maggie’s voice and you nodded, smiling to her before rushing down to meet the others.

“Everything okay?” You asked, giving Carol a brief hug, glad to see they all were alright.

“Plan worked out, good job.” Rick congratulated all of you.

“You okay?” Daryl’s blue eyes scanned you, relaxing when you nodded. “Good shooting there.”

The fight wasn’t over though, the Governor had left but he could come back, you had to follow him and attack now to end his threat completely. It was dangerous, but it had to be done, you couldn’t keep leaving in fear of him, waiting for his next attack.

Back inside the cellblock, you were elated to see Beth, Hershel, and Carl safe and sound, along with Judith, although they seemed to be in quite a dark mood. You guessed it was normal, considering what was going on.

You couldn’t make your mind about what to do with yourself now, you’d to decide between staying at the prison to help protect it in case the Governor came back or to go and chase his men, trying to finish this for once and for all. When Maggie and Glenn announced they were staying, you took your decision.

“Just the three of us then?” Daryl nodded at Rick and Michonne.

“No, I’ll go too.” You announced, grabbing your shotgun again.

“You sure?” Rick turned to look at you and you nodded.

“If he comes back, Glenn, Maggie, and Carol can hold him back so I’m going with you, I can help.” You assured.

You could fight, you had proven it and you were determined to do everything in your hand to protect your family and end this.

“Alright, we’re leaving now, just give me a second.”

Rick went to talk quietly with his son, who was again looking dark and grumpy, annoyed because he wasn’t being allowed to go to Woodbury.

“You don’t need to come, it’s dangerous.” Daryl stopped next to you, passing a bag to Michonne who was loading supplies into a car.

“I know, that’s why I need to go, so it won’t be just the three of you...there’s a lot of them...” You tried to sound sure and confident, but couldn’t help but worry, chewing at your lower lip.

“Yeah...” Daryl seemed worried too, though you knew he was eager to go fight the Governor. “Stay out of fight, okay? You have good aim, try to hide and shoot at them from away, okay?”

“Sure, boss.” You joked nervously.

He gave you that small smile of him that made your heart flutter not matter what and pat your arm before heading to his bike.

“We’ll be fine, we’ll win this.” Michonne tried lifting your spirit.

“Let’s go.”

***

You hadn’t gone far when you found the vehicles of the Governor stopped in the middle of the road, a few walkers munching on some dead bodies.

“What happened here?” You whispered after making quick work of the walkers, surveying the dantesque scene.

You let out an embarrassing yelp when you heard a loud thud on the window of the truck, a woman peeking through. Daryl and Rick made her go out, training their weapons on her, but she was alone and didn’t seem like a threat at all, she actually looked terrified.

She explained how the Governor had gone insane, lashing out against their people when they told him they wanted to retreat, shooting against them and killing them all. You couldn’t believe it. You knew the Governor to be a crazy, cruel man, but that was something else...gunning down his own people. You were horrified.

“We’ll stop him,” Daryl assured you when he noticed your troubled face.

You all rushed to Woodbury in order to check if the Governor had gone back there and to tell the people what had happened, to prevent them maybe, also to try and find Andrea. You were greeted by the bullets of Tyreese and Sasha, who seemed to have joined Woodbury, but Karen stepped in, telling them what the Governor had done and how you had helped her, so you were allowed in. The Governor hadn’t come, it seemed he had just fled away.

Tyreese and Sasha seemed to be almost in shock, they hadn’t known the truth about the Governor, just that he had taken them in when Rick had kicked them out, but soon they were trying to help you. Sasha and Karen went to tell everyone what had happened, who the Governor actually was, while Tyreese went with you to try and find Andrea.

When you found her, it was too late. She had managed to put down a walker, but not before it bit her. You stared at her in shock, desolated, but Andrea even managed to give you a weak smile after Rick told her everyone was safe, offering words of comfort to all of you.

“I’m sorry...” You sobbed. “I’m sorry I left you in the farm...” You had always felt guilty about that, about not having been able to help her and then not coming back to check if she was still there and alive. “This shouldn’t have happened...you should have stayed with us...”

Andrea reached to you, smiling.

“I told you, it was not your fault, Y/N.” She said weakly. “Don’t think about that, don’t dare feel guilty about that...it’s okay.”

“It’s not...”

She just smiled sweetly to you, reaching out to squeeze your hand, and you felt hot tears rolling down your cheeks.

Andrea wanted to end it herself but Michonne wouldn’t leave her side, totally broken hearted. Rick’s eyes were wet too when placed a hand on your shoulder and gently guided you outside of the room, following Daryl, giving the two women privacy.

Daryl was leaning on his crossbow, crouching down, his face hidden, and you knelt next to him so you could wrap your arms around his shoulders, hoping you could comfort him even if just a bit. His presence always helped you feel better and you hoped you could do the same for him. He turned around so he could wrap his arms around you too and hide his face on your shoulder. You did the same, burying your face on his shoulder as you tried to stop your tears.

You jumped a bit when you heard the gunshot and Daryl pulled away from you slowly, getting up and helping you onto your feet as you still tried to control your emotions. The door of the room opened and Michonne came out, face wet with tears.

“Come here.” You whispered, enveloping her with your arms and holding her tight.

“I can help you bury her...” Tyreese offered quietly.

“Thank you,” Rick nodded solemnly. “You three do that while Daryl and I go find Sasha and Karen, see what the people are thinking.” He instructed, slipping back into leader mood. “Whoever wants to can come back to the prison with us can do it, we’ll take everyone in.”

You were a bit surprised by his unexpected decision but nodded with a small smile on your face. That was the right thing to do. Woodbury wasn’t safe anymore and you could offer those people help, a chance, maybe a home even. You couldn’t blame the people for the crimes of his leader, especially when said leader had fooled everyone.

And Andrea had said it, you couldn’t survive alone in this world, the more people you had helping you the better, a strong, big community was bound to have a better chance.

Tyreese carried Andrea’s body outside and helped Michonne and you to dig a grave where you buried her without much ceremony.

“I’m going to kill him,” Michonne swore, her face now a cold mask.

Back inside Woodbury, people were already leaving their homes, carrying some bags with their belongings. They were more than you had thought, even families with children, and you were glad you weren’t fighting them anymore, glad now you were offering them the chance of a home.

“They agreed to come then?” You asked Daryl, who nodded.

“I think they didn’t know what else to do, they are scared of the Governor now.”

They did look scared and a bit lost, and you felt pity for them. Looking around, Woodbury was beautiful, domestic, probably they’d had a good life there and they were now heading towards an uncertain future with their former enemies, after finding out their leader had massacred their own.

“This is good, Rick’s taken the right decision.” You smiled softly.

“Yeah...you were right. We can’t turn our backs to people just because they aren’t our own. We can help people.”

You couldn’t help your grin at Daryl’s words and you reached out your hand to him, your heart warming when he laced his fingers with yours, your worries almost melting instantly, the easy intimacy and trust you had with him making you feel immensely glad and lucky.

“That was the last of them, we’re leaving, they’ll follow us in that bus,” Rick instructed.

“I’m gonna get some supplies at the prison and then I’ll go looking for the Governor,” Michonne informed, still decided to kill the man.

“I’m going with you,” Daryl told her and Michonne nodded, giving him a small, grateful smile. “We have to find him, he knows where we are, could attack us again.”

Your heart sank. You’d thought this was over, you thought it was the last time you had to think about the Governor, but now Daryl and Michonne were going after him. You didn’t want them to. You could understand that it was important, the Governor was still a threat, sure, but you didn’t want Daryl to go.

Not now when you felt so close to him.

Your feelings for him were still there, strong despite all your efforts to ignore them, but it was more than that and that any silly crush. His presence always managed to calm you down, to make you feel like everything was going to be alright, comforted you whenever something went bad.

You knew he would be there for you, like he was for everyone, being the selfless person with a heart of gold he was. The fact that he was like that when the world had been so awful to him was something you admired to no end.

No matter how capable he was, how strong and resourceful he proved to be again and again, you felt totally protective of him, wanting to shield him in your arms so nothing bad could touch him ever again, to comfort him every time tragedy hit your group yet again, leaving his heart hurting no matter he tried not to show it. By now you knew him, knew his heart was gentle and fragile, and broke easier than it might seem.

Fight against it all you wanted, you loved him.

You still wouldn’t dare to make a move, though, afraid you’d scare him away, afraid of losing the closeness and complicity now you had. You had been wondering, since your conversation with Merle, if there might be something on his side too, or if Merle had been just playing with your head and you were reading too much into your closeness with Daryl.

He let you cuddle with him for comfort, held you when you needed it, seek comfort in you even, but that might be just him being your friend.

For all Carol’s jokes about Daryl being the shyest, you felt you might be out-shying him. Every time you thought about coming clear with him, telling him how you felt, it wasn’t just the fear of losing him what stopped you, but also the embarrassment. You knew he’d never laugh at you or anything like that, that he’d take you seriously, but still, every time you thought about having to confess that you liked him, your cheeks blushed in embarrassment.

You had never been good with stuff like that, confessing feelings of such kind, it embarrassed you. You were more of an action girl, showing your feelings by act instead of words. Still, you didn’t want to push anything like that into Daryl. He’d run scared and you’d lose him, and that was the last thing in the world you wanted.

“Y/N? You okay?” Daryl tugged at your hand, looking worriedly at your thoughtful face.

“Yeah, yeah.” You nodded rapidly, hoping you weren’t blushing. “Just spaced out a bit.”

Daryl didn’t seem to be content with your words, he was still eyeing you with concern and a frown in his face. He reached out his other hand, absentmindedly running his fingers through the ends of your hair as he studied your face, and you felt your cheeks heating up, your heart skipping a beat.

“You’re thinking about Andrea? She was right, you shouldn’t blame yourself about what happened on the farm.”

That wasn’t what had been in your mind but it hit close home and you looked down, biting your lip. Andrea had forgiven you, saying it wasn’t your fault, but that wasn’t enough to stop you from feeling guilty.

“You wanted us to stop her from coming back to the Governor, when he came to the prison, you were right on that too...” The fingers that were playing with your hair went up to gingerly stroke down over your cheek, stopping under your chin to gently lift your head back up. “You ain’t the one who should be feeling guilty.”

Your breath hitched when you felt his fingers trailing over your face and you allowed Daryl to lift your head, meeting his serious eyes.. All you wanted to do was to lift your own hand and run your fingers over his cheek, pull his face close to yours...

You forced yourself to pull away before you could betray yourself and Daryl pulled away quickly too, letting go of your hand.

“No, you’re right, none of us should feel guilty.” You said, trying to regain some composure and also not wanting Daryl to beat himself about Andrea’s death, knowing he was prone to that. “The Governor is the guilty one.”

“Yeah...Michonne and I’ll find him, she’ll kill him.”

“I worry about you two...going out there and after him...” You admitted.

“We’ll be fine.”

They were strong and capable warriors, you knew, the better you had seen, together they were probably almost unstoppable but you worried about them anyway. Too many things could go wrong in this mad world.

You put on a brave face, though, giving him a small smile.

“Come on, let’s show these people his new home.”

***

When you arrived at the prison the sun was already rising up.

“You’re really going to leave now?” You are not going to rest at all?” You asked worriedly to Michonne. She and Daryl had been up all the night and now they wanted to go hunt the Governor.

“We have to take advantage of the sun hours.” She said while helping you to take bags off the car, Rick had gone to explain the others who were these new people. “We’ll find somewhere to hole up for the nights or we can sleep in the car, we’ll be fine.”

“Alright...” It still didn’t sound safe and your eyes wandered to Daryl, who was following Rick.

Michonne followed your gaze and a smile tugged at her lips. “Don’t worry, I’ll bring him back to you.”

You raised your eyebrows at her as if you didn’t know what was she talking about but your cheeks tainted red.

You didn’t have much time to worry about your feelings for Daryl and how apparently they were obvious to some people, neither to worry about his and Michonne’s wellbeing, though. While they got ready you were busy helping the people from Woodbury to settle into the prison and getting things ready for them.

Your family seemed to accept them easily after Rick’s introduction, taking in their lost and scared faces and making an effort to welcome them.

Carol, Maggie, and Glenn had done good work at cleaning the walkers that had gotten into the prison when the Governor attacked and there were several cellblocks where you could locate the new people.

Being used to Woodbury houses and commodities, you guessed they might find their new surroundings poor and scrappy, but they seemed grateful you were taking them in.

“We’re leaving.” Michonne came to inform you when you were showing the kitchen to some people who had brought some food supplies.

You followed her outside, heading towards Daryl’s bike to find him talking with Carol a couple of meters away.

“Be careful, okay?” You told Michonne before she left towards her car to make sure everything was ready.

“You too.” You said to Daryl when he came closer and he nodded.

You were feeling shy all of a sudden, not knowing how to say goodbye, not wanting to. His presence had been a reassuring constant in your life since the farm after he grew close to Carol and you. And the world outside the prison was dangerous, even more than you had thought. You could only pray he’d be back safe.

You met his eyes, your heart hurting at having to say goodbye, and all you wanted to do was to throw your arms around his neck to pull him close and kiss him at once. But you didn’t, couldn’t muster the courage, couldn’t risk losing him to your silly crush.

You timidly reached out your arms, though, and he moved closer so you could hug him.

“Be safe here too.”

@momc95@jodiereedus22@osweetdevilo@sapphire1727@coffeebooksandfandom  @the-destielr@checkintoreality@aislingsartistry@daddys-little-princess67 @sesshomaru-lover @crossbowking 

I never thought anyone’d like to be tag in any of my stories so thank you! It means the world! <3

If you want to be tagged please let me know.

[losangelesleftygayvoters]

General Election Voters Guide

Vote November 6, 2018

(By and for somewhat Lefty Queers and Allies to that effect).

October 27, 2018 Updates in Blue.

Prepared by: Phil Buiser, Chris Fajardo, Marc Valera, Ella Gabriel, Gabriela Garbim, Zac Hug, Ryan Quinn, Jay Marcus, Kevin Kelly and (updated to include) Ed Center.

Below is the combined effort of 9 10 queer people of varying race, sexualities, and gender identities. We split up the work of researching the various judgeships and candidates and assessor jobs over the course of a few weeks, consulted relevant publications, and where possible, the words and records of the candidates themselves. Then we spent quite a while discussing them debate team style and wrote them up here. As always, we encourage you to vote your conscience. Also your ballot may vary from ours in some cases as we’re mostly West Hollywood and Los Angeles/Hollywood based.

The below offers a perspective that’s fairly liberal, definitely blue state, and skewing toward LGBT rights a little heavier than others. Notably, this year we were lucky enough to gain the help of two immigrant queer types who are both green card holders. They can’t yet vote, but contributed invaluably to this document and honestly we’re prouder of them than we are of any turd you can’t convince to go and vote on November 6th. Seriously, get those kids out there.

New this year is a cheat sheet here at the top with a quick view of our picks. Our somewhat windy analysis follows.

QuickView of The Candidates we Chose:

Governor: Gavin Newsom (D)

Lieutenant Governor: Ed Hernandez (D)

Secretary of State: Alex Padilla (D)

Controller: Betty Yee (D)

US State Representative: Adam B. Schiff (D)

Treasurer: Fiona Ma

Attorney General: Xavier Becerra (D)

Insurance Commissioner: Ricardo Lara (D)

United States Senator: Dianne Feinstein (D)

State Senator, 26th District: Ben Allen (D)

50th District State Assembly: Richard Bloom (D)

The Judiciary:

For the Judiciary, we advocate a NO vote on Justice Carol A. Corrigan for her nonsensical and partisan take on Prop 8 (She IS, in fact, the one you’ve seen go by on the socials). Update on October 27: We have also updated our take on Justice Willhite and can’t advocate a HARD yes for him, but a “vote your conscience.” See this link for details. For ANY OTHER JUDGE, we were fine with a YES vote, much in line with this article from the LA Times: http://www.latimes.com/opinion/editorials/la-ed-endorsement-justices-20181004-story.html.

Races where Judges are running against each other:

Judge of the Superior Court, Office No. 60: Holly L. Hancock

Judge of the Superior Court, Office No.4: A. Veronica Sauceda

Judge of Superior Court, Office No. 16: Patricia (Patti) Hunter

Judge of the Superior Court, Office No. 113: Javier Perez

City and County Races:

School Superintendent of Public Instruction: Tony K Thurmond Marshall Tuck

(UPDATED October 27, 2018 - see below for details)

County Assessor: Jeffrey Prang

County Sheriff: Jim McDonnell

Member State Board of Equalization, 3rd District: Sigh, probably Tony Vazquez, but we legit nearly voted Republican on this one.

Ballot Measures:

STATE MEASURE 1: YES

STATE MEASURE 2: YES

STATE MEASURE 3: YES

STATE MEASURE 4: YES

STATE MEASURE 5: NO

STATE MEASURE 6: NO

STATE MEASURE 7: YES

STATE MEASURE 8: NO

STATE MEASURE 10: YES

STATE MEASURE 11: YES

STATE MEASURE 12: YES

City Amendment B: YES

City Amendment E: YES

LAUSD Charter Amendment EE: YES

County Measure W: YES

ANALYSIS & RESEARCH ON CANDIDATES BELOW:

FOR ANALYSIS/BIOS OF THE JUDICIARY RACES, CLICK HERE.

FOR ANALYSIS/RESEARCH OF EACH OF THE BALLOT MEASURES, CLICK HERE.

Governor: Gavin Newsom

Ah! In the age of Trump, at least it’s still great to be a Californian. We live in a state where we can kick off a voter guide by saying: Former SF mayor Gavin Newsom is the clear choice to carry on Jerry Brown’s progressive legacy and expand on it. Newsom is pro-environment, pro-LGBT and women’s rights, and anti-gun. As SF mayor, he challenged state and federal prohibitions and was aggressive in the fight to begin same-sex marriages, proving that he’s been a reliable progressive advocate from the start. In his own words, he’s running to be “the head of the resistance.”

Keep in mind that, aside from driving policy, the governor (like the president) appoints State Supreme Court and Court of Appeals justices. Newsom is likely to appoint justices who will be judicious and liberal-leaning, while his opponent, Republican John Cox, would likely adopt the conservative plan to flood courts with Federalist Society lackeys. California has been a leading check on the Trump administration, and Cox would reverse that stance in addition to derailing the progress Jerry Brown has brought to California. To keep California progressive, and to keep California as a check on Trump, elect Gavin Newsom governor.

Lieutenant Governor: Ed Hernandez (D)

The fact that this race is listed second on the ballot gives it an air of importance, but it really should be listed dead last. Why? Because lieutenant governor does absolutely nothing. It’s where politicians fill a seat while they’re in between jobs, like, say, between being SF mayor and running for higher office. The only way the lieutenant governor becomes relevant is if the governor is incapacitated. And for that reason, we must take this race seriously. Because, well, pipe bombs for God’s sake.

Despite its seemingly low stakes, this race has split Democrats. Both candidates are Dems, thanks to California’s primary system, and both have solid progressive endorsements. But we’re giving the edge to Ed Hernandez, “whose work with underserved communities and poor patients on Medi-Cal ultimately sparked his interest in state government.” He was elected and served in the State Assembly and State Senate, where he just termed out. His opponent, Eleni Kounalakis, served as US ambassador to Hungary under President Obama, who has endorsed her in this race, along with other prominent Democrats like Kamala Harris. But Kounalakis is a major Democratic donor, and we’re a little suspicious that may be the reason that so many elected Democrats have endorsed her. Endorsements aside, Kounalakis has never held elected office, so Ed Hernandez is the better pick to fill in as governor, if necessary. Again, as we always say, we’re willing to be wrong. Vote your conscience.

Secretary of State: Alex Padilla (D)

If you’ve consulted this guide in past elections, you’ll remember that we’ve voted for Padilla several times before. In fact, that’s why he’s the incumbent. He’s vocal about the need for transparency in how money changes hands in government, he’s a big civil rights advocate, endorsed by all the gay groups you want him to be, he’s a big DREAM Act supporter, and he’s more obsessed with voter accessibility than one could ask for--up to an including the support of automatic voter registration. Basically, Padilla wants you to vote and be an American and a Californian, no matter who you are. We’re in.

The other guy, Mark Meuser, is pretty mum on civil rights, except to say that we “really need to clean up California’s voter rolls.” He’s also spent time insisting that we need less dead people voting. Who needs dog whistles when we have Mark Meuser? Knock it off, Mark, those are not actual problems in the real world.

Controller: Betty Yee (D)

The controller oversees the state’s bill-paying, including payrolls for state government and the California State University system. The office also audits state agencies and departments as well as lower levels of government, such as school districts, cities, and water authorities. The controller also sits on about seventy boards and commissions, a range of financing authorities, and the boards of the state’s two largest public employee pension systems. Think of all the meetings she/he has to sit through!

Betty Yee is the incumbent, currently finishing up her fourth year on the job, where she has built a track record that is universally endorsed. Yee was instrumental in calling out the corruption and nepotism problems with the Board of Equalization, leading to Governor Brown stripping the board of most of its power. Yee has not only shown a dedication to making a positive impact, but her actions back up her intentions.

Yee’s opponent, Roditis, is a businessman/CFO who has little public service history, no statewide name recognition, and comparatively few donors. His muddy vision of what he would like to do in office makes us wonder if he even knows how the position actually works.

US State Representative: Adam B. Schiff (D)

Adam Schiff is the incumbent and is currently serving his ninth term in the US House of Representatives. He is the ranking Democrat on the House Intelligence Committee, where he’s been a crucial check on Trump and House Republicans who have tried to interfere with the investigation of Russia’s involvement in the 2016 election. His opponent, Nalbandian, is a Republican businessman who has never served in the government before, openly campaigned for Trump in 2016, believes in all of Trump’s ideologies, and thinks he can turn this country around. Yeah, nope. Nice try, Nalbandian. We’re wif Schiff!

Treasurer: Fiona Ma

This is the state’s banker—the head person who manages the state’s investments and administers the sale of state bonds and notes. The treasurer serves on several commissions, mostly related to marketing bonds, and pays out state funds that are spent by the state controller. Fiona Ma is a CPA with experience in tax law and balancing budgets. She speaks often of accountability and transparency, which seem pretty vital for anyone dealing with large sums of money. She’s worked at the local and state level during the course of the Great Recession. Some issues she wants to focus on include affordable housing programs, alleviating high student loan debts, making quality affordable healthcare more accessible (she was born with a preexisting health condition), investing in first responders (her hubby’s a firefighter), and protecting the environment. She also has the support of her majesty, Senator Kamala Harris, among others, and has spoken up plenty about equal rights for woman, people of color, people with disabilities, LGBTQ+ folks, vets, and the homeless. As a member of the Board of Equalization, she was instrumental in sparking an investigation into a scandal involving nepotism and improper use of civil servants for political purposes by her fellow board members. The scrutiny culminated in a 2017 law that stripped the Board of Equalization of nearly all of its duties and staff, leaving it with only the core duties required under the state Constitution.

Greg Conlon, on the other hand, seems bitter and disappointed in big government. He speaks a lot about fixing California’s “broken economy” and “getting the job done”. He served as an Air Force pilot, so I imagine some vets will relate to him, but most of the time he just comes across as a begrudging old white man who didn’t get his way. If only we had more of those! Also, he wants to change the state constitution so that the controller and treasurer are appointed by the governor, rather than the people. Maybe that’s because this is his third run for treasurer and he’s never received more than 40% of the vote. Burn.

Attorney General: Xavier Becerra (D)

Becerra led California into suing, or joining other states in suing, the Trump administration seventeen times in 2017 alone and more than forty times total since being appointed, which is reason enough to get our vote. But looking at what those 2017 lawsuits include tells you what’s important to him: four suits against Trump’s immigration policies, including a suit over his efforts to end DACA; a suit over Trump’s ban on our transgender brothers, sisters, and friends serving in the military; a suit against a policy that would allow insurance companies to withhold coverage to women for birth control; and eight suits over the softening or dissolving of environmental regulations, earning him the title “The Planet’s Lawyer” from grist.com.

Bacerra has earned a shit-ton of endorsements from people we’re fond of including Kamala Harris and Jerry Brown, as well as the California Legislative Black and Latino Caucuses, which represent two of the population’s most vulnerable to violence and injustice suffered at the hands of law enforcement. As our sitting attorney general, Becerra has had a direct hand in shaping the behavior of law enforcement agencies, so endorsements from these caucuses should mean something to all of us. He’s also endorsed by the LA Times, which calls their endorsement a “monumentally easy call” for the above reasons, but also because Bailey, Becerra’s opponent, is a political asshole running on a platform that has California generally standing down against Trump administration policies across the board. He favors the “Three Strikes” law mandating a twenty-five-years-to-life sentence for people committing their third felony, including felonies as minor as drug possession and dealing. The “Three Strikes” law is a disaster. It inherently discriminates by race, and it feeds the prison-industrial complex, causing mass incarceration. Bailey’s endorsements alone are a big fat fuck no: the NRA and California Pro-Life, to highlight two. And oh, yeah—he’s facing twelve counts of judicial misconduct from the State Commission on Judicial Performance. Charming.

Insurance Commissioner: Ricardo Lara (D)

The Insurance Commissioner’s job is to oversee the state agency that enforces insurance laws and investigates health care fraud. Therefore, whoever sits in this chair will have Californians’ backs against large insurance companies. We like Sen. Ricardo Lara, the first openly gay person of color to serve in the State Senate. Lara has spent his entire legislative career being a strong consumer advocate, and he is part of a new wave of progressive Democrats, endorsed by Sen. Kamala Harris and more aligned with Lt. Gov. Gavin Newsom than Gov. Jerry Brown. He is a supporter of the “Health4all” coalition, which proposes to expand Medi-Cal to all income-eligible California residents, regardless of their immigration status. And he believes the state needs a universal health care system, now that the Trump administration is trying to tear down Obamacare.

Meanwhile, Steve Poizner, tech entrepreneur, held the position as a Republican from 2007-2011. Poizner strongly opposed illegal immigration back when he ran for governor, and he blamed undocumented immigrants for many of the state’s problems. He believes the state should get more involved in the new market of cyber insurance and climate insurance. Both candidates agree on the need to deal with the growing threat of wildfires, by making sure companies pay off on claims and educating residents on the need to make sure they keep their home insurances up to date after they make improvements. In recent, polls, Poizner had a slight lead with many voters still undecided. We’ve decided on Lara.

United States Senator: Dianne Feinstein (D)

Well, the good news is that the Dems are gonna win this battle between an outspoken progressive and a little old lady who’s had the job for decades and has done . . . mostly all right. Feinstein is endorsed by the LA Times, Obama, Biden, Kamala Harris, and Barbara Boxer, and a boatload of congressmen and congresswomen. That establishment backing has her up on DeLeon by twenty-four points. But geez, we wish she was more progressive. For example, she’s not for single-payer health care, and she’s been for the death penalty.

DeLeon, on the other hand, who is the California State Senate president pro tem, got the endorsement from the state Democratic party by calling them all up and asking for it, while Feinstein took it for granted from Washington. There’s a LOT to like about DeLeon. He’s the son of an immigrant, progressive in all those progressive-y good ways, and hungry to take on idiot Republicans in Congress.

So what’s a progressive voter to do? For the most uninspiring of reasons, we’re going with DiFi. Seniority matters in the Senate, and Feinstein is the ranking member of the Senate Judiciary Committee and a member of the top Democratic leadership. We’d like to wait until we have a Democrat in the White House, and let Kamala Harris gain a little more seniority in Senate (or get Kamala Harris in the White House!), before California gives up Feinstein’s influential seat among Democratic Senate leadership.

State Senator, 26th District: Ben Allen (D)

Allen has held this position since 2016 and is universally endorsed as a force for positive change. His opponent, Baron Bruno (cool name!), is currently a real estate agent who uses a lot of CAPITAL letters on his website. While he did offer to “work until his fingers bleed,” Bruno’s anemic experience seems to be the only thing needing medical attention. Keep your day job, Bruno.

50th District State Assembly: Richard Bloom (D)

He’s running unopposed, and he knows it, judging by the grammar, punctuation, and monotony issues on his website. So it’s either a vote for him or a vote abstained. We give him our vote, as we have in the past. Liberal groups uniformly favor him and conservative groups uniformly dislike him, and that’s a formula we can believe in. A few fun highlights from his agenda: reforming the state’s film tax credit program to stem the tide of entertainment industry jobs fleeing to other states and countries; protecting bobcats; and educating people on how to understand and use the Affordable Care Act. Tiny red flag—he had to pay a fine a while back for not reporting four campaign contributions he received in the final days of his 2014 election campaign, but this failure is widely accepted as negligence as opposed to deception. We bloom for Bloom. There, we said it. But only because we always say it.

School Superintendent of Public Instruction:

UPDATED OCTOBER 27, 2018 to Marshall Tuck

As happens from time to time when we publish this list, various people reach out and talk to us about personal experiences with candidates. In this case, we asked San Francisco’s own, our good friend Ed Center (whom we would have added to this debate team were he closer) to provide his reasoning. And...we were convinced. His notes are here in blue:

Marshall Tuck is the candidate with an actual track record of improving schools for low-income, black, and Latino kids. He is willing to make tough decisions that are unpopular with the status quo: more school options for poor families, bonus pay for teachers in low-income neighborhoods, giving principals leeway to hire the faculty they want. He’s the smartest person I’ve ever talked to about education policy. This is a tough one for me because I like Thurmond and I want to support a candidate from humble means. Thurmond is a career politician with his eyes on the next prize. I would vote for him for senator. But because he’s politically ambitious, he refuses to go against the teachers union which is a big force in maintaining the status quo for poor, black and Latino students. Tuck helped to turnaround a group of underperforming schools in LA under Villaraigrosa. In doing so, he was very supportive to teachers but upset the union by doing things like giving bonus pay. The union said you can’t do that, we have a contract that lays out salary structure and he said, fine, what are you going to do when I tell the LA Times that you won’t let me pay teachers MORE? I’ve heard him lay out his plan for education in CA and I believe in that plan. I think he’s he best choice for CA students.

Our Original Notes: This was a tough pick. If the LA Times’s assessment of the race is credible, both Thurmond and Tuck would be admirable choices, although they give the slight nod to Thurmond. As do we. Both are running on a platform focusing on low-income and at-risk youth, but Tuck served as president of a chain of charter schools and as a CEO in different educational organizations, and while that doesn’t mean he can’t sympathize with the problems of low-income and at-risk communities, Thurmond is in a better position to empathize with those communities, having grown up poor in Philadelphia and then working within challenged communities as a social worker. Assuming all other relevant attributes between Tuck and Thurmond are equal—which they inevitably are not, but nothing we’ve been able to find point to a significant difference in their administrative abilities—we say go with the guy who’s been there over the guy who’s been assessing it from afar. Additionally, Thurmond’s massive list of endorsements includes Kamala Harris, Nancy Pelosi, and Maxine Waters—plus the California Black and Latino Caucuses, which, again, represent communities who are more vulnerable than most to a problemed education system.

County-Assessor: Jeffrey Prang

Jeffrey Prang is the incumbent and we agree with the LA Times that we should vote to give him a second term. Basically, he’s done a much better job than his predecessor so we should re-elect him so he can keep up the good work. The assessor’s main job is to determine the value of newly built, improved, or purchased properties and business assets. The office also decides on requests to reduce property valuations and hears appeals of the decisions made by its appraisers. Its decisions help determine how much county residents pay in property taxes each year. And the other guy listed his official middle name as “Lower Taxes” on the ballot (no really, look at your ballot) and in all of the press materials. We have NO idea who that works for, because it is legit crazy as hell.

County—Sheriff: Jim McDonnell

The county sheriff is one of the most powerful elected officials in the county, as they influence state policy, run the county jail system, and have the power to find alternatives to incarceration. So pay attention. We do NOT endorse the Democratic Socialist suggestion that you just write in whatever joke candidate you want. (For real, don’t.) This is a runoff election from June and pits the incumbent, McDonnell versus Villanueva, a recently retired deputy. In his time as county sheriff, McDonnell has been able to make some positive changes, especially considering that the last sheriff was sent to prison. McDonnell has much more experience than Villanueva, having had opportunities while on the force to manage large teams and more recently in his role in the past four years as county sheriff. Villanueva, on the other hand, never rose within the ranks of the LASD. Given his past work experience and performance, McDonnell just edges out Villanueva.

Member State Board of Equalization, 3rd District:

TOSS UP, but, sigh, probably Tony Vazquez (D)

Okay, this race is REAL bummer. The State Board of Equalization is a long story and kind of a mess we’ve talked about before. It was established in 1879 to ensure statewide fairness in property tax assessments, but over time the board really turned on its mandate to tamp down on corruption and by 2017 the board was bonkers corrupt and after a criminal investigation (led by Betty Yee!) Jerry Brown signed a bill that stripped the board of its powers and scaled it back from 4,800 employees to 400. So, what will Tony Vazquez or G. Rick Marshall be in charge of when we elect them? The board’s home page now says, “The State Board of Equalization administers Property Tax, Alcoholic Beverage Tax, and Tax on Insurers programs.” So, that’s a five-member board stuck more or less with its original constitutional powers to review property tax assessments, plus a few other things that have become relevant since 1879, like insurer tax assessment, alcohol excise tax, and pipeline taxes. So, it’s important that they not be corrupt. You see where this is going, yes: Tony Vazquez, the Democrat, is a longtime Santa Monica councilman and was the first Latino mayor of Santa Monica. He’s endorsed by some mainstream Democrats like Antonio Villaraigosa, Alex Padilla, and Maxine Waters (as well as a Santa Monica car dealership and a Mexican restaurant!). But there’s a noticeable brevity to his list of endorsements, because . . . you guessed it, he’s under investigation for corruption! He apparently claimed no income for several years during which his wife, a school board member, made votes that favored two businesses that had employed Vazquez as a contractor. And neither of them disclosed the conflict of interest. COME ON! And then, on the other side of the ticket, there’s G. Rick Marshall, who appears to be on the stubborn side of the small-government, fewer-taxes brand of Republicanism. That’s not a good match for California, a progressive state that believes in leveling taxes for worthy programs and investments. Marshall could bring to a screeching halt programs that make California a progressive leader. There doesn’t appear to be a hero in this story, but democracy is sometimes about picking the least worst option, and in this case, we still think that’s Vasquez, because if the current investigation finds him to be corrupt, he’ll be removed from office and we’ll get someone else who maybe won’t screw up the way taxes are collected because of some “survival of the fittest” bullshit. But again, COME ON!

FOR ANALYSIS/BIOS OF THE JUDICIARY RACES, CLICK HERE.

FOR ANALYSIS/RESEARCH OF EACH OF THE BALLOT MEASURES, CLICK HERE.