#which is ironic for a researcher but yeah

[otnesse]

Put that way, it makes Sephiroth's descent into madness VERY understandable given the circumstances. Certainly far more understandable than how some actual real life figures actually went bonkers after reading some books (just look up the founders and founding philosophy of the French Revolution, for example, where they modeled their actions after the writings of people like Voltaire and Jean-Jacques Rousseau. Heck, even Marquis de Sade. Heck, just look at how Vladimir Lenin literally modeled the USSR and its practices after Karl Marx's writings [though I'd argue in Lenin's case, since his sister provided evidence that he was probably a bad seed to begin with, he was more like Albert Wesker than Sephiroth], or even how Sartre was implied to have done the same with his Existentialist philosophy and caused him to sing praises for various tyrants while claiming to believe in absolute freedom. And ironically enough, I'd argue that the French Revolutionaries were even MORE similar to Sephiroth than the others in the respect that those guys were also essentially not given the full truth due to Voltaire and his ilk DELIBERATELY spreading lies and misinformation in their agenda to essentially overthrow at least the Church if not God himself.). What's even worse is that, as I showed with those examples from the French and Russian Revolutions, even certain contemporary philosophers like Sartre, there's an ACTUAL real life basis behind Sephiroth's fall into madness (that said, at least Sephiroth had an understandable existential crisis even in the original game regarding his ACTUAL origins, or at least what he could glean out of it, for why he turned out the way he did, while the French Revolutionaries never quite got to that level of despair for why they did what they did.). It's actually part of the reason I'm currently terrified of Belle from Disney's Beauty and the Beast right now, fearing she'll ultimately turn out just like him down the line once she gets to certain books at a certain time period.

Oh yeah, and if you thought the original game was bad about this, the remake's even WORSE: At least the original game left the impression that Sephiroth was simply reading outdated research notes from Gast that the latter failed to update prior to his murder at Hojo's hands (meaning had Gast actually updated the research materials, Sephiroth probably wouldn't have sunk to that level of despair that he did). The remake, on the other hand, actually SHOWS the research journals he was reading from and reveals they had redactions included to them, which creates the unsetting implication that Gast DID actually try to update his research materials after learning from Ifalfna about Jenova's true nature before death, but Hojo made SURE to eliminate them even from the source material after murdering him, essentially meaning Sephiroth never stood a chance when the inevitable occurred.

The thing I would say is commonly misunderstood the most about Sephiroth is his reaction to discovering that he was “created.”

People get baffled by the Nibelheim Incident and say, “I guess finding out you were an experiment would be upsetting, but why would that fill him with so much rage that he started killing humans and wanting to destroy the entire planet?”

But it’s more like….no, imagine you were born inherently different from everyone else. Forget the extra tragic background stuff that some of us know for a moment. Just take that basic idea about being “born special.”

You are distinctly isolate. It’s in your literal DNA. You are physically and biologically “other” your entire life. Not with a disorder or deformity, but with some completely unique and separate make-up as a living being.

And you don’t like it. You don’t like being special and different. It’s a type of different that can be utilized because it manifests in unnatural, destructive power. Your physical strength and endurance are beyond human and are most suited to war and bloodshed. This strips you of the ability to assimilate into the world. It makes you fit best as a weapon.

You don’t get a family, home, or sense of secure, ordinary life. You don’t get to connect with the planet. You live in a completely different world from everyone else and look out at them through glass and steel.

Sure, they idolize you. Cool. They worship the physical otherness that you were born with. They admire your godly strength, they fawn over your looks, they obsess over your presence, blah blah. But it’s all distant noise to you. There’s no fulfillment in it. You don’t want praise and worship from behind glass and steel, you want something or someone to connect to.

You want your mother — because SHE would give you love, safety, acceptance, and humanity. You could feel human if you could run into the arms of the human that birthed you. The existence of your mother is proof that you are human for the time being. You need her so much.

But none of this is given to you and even though you look for answers, they somehow evade you for your entire life.

MEANWHILE, the only ones to steer and guide you are the company that brought you up and at least gave you a place to reside, a place to find purpose. In your mind, since you were born special, maybe this company is a type of salvation, even if you don’t like everything they do or…..anything about them at all, actually.

But hey! They still guide your power and strength. They still give you something to hang onto. They don’t attack you for being special, they just steer you to employ your abilities and that’s SOMETHING to hold onto. It’s a place where you can assimilate and be accepted in some way. Even if it hurts you. You OWE them.

Now cut to Nibelheim. You uncover it all. Every. Single. Lie. And lies on top of lies. What you discover isn’t even the full truth, but you THINK it is. You think you’ve just finally found out all the answers!

And it starts with your birth. Turns out you were created. You’re not human at all. You were created from the remains of an ancient being that was dug up from the earth and labeled as a separate species by humanity. It’s even dubbed a monster by some, and boy…does it sure look like one.

All of those differences you grew up with, all of those feelings of otherness, all of those fucking isolate traits that FORCED you to live in a cold, different world and that conveniently suited the needs of the greedy, corporate businessmen that raised you were produced and crafted by them.

Your “special existence” that took away every chance at normal, human life was not something you were born with and had no control over. It was literally the result of horrible, unethical experimentation. All of your years of trying to accept it and just do your job are now pointless. It’s like a robot discovering it never had any autonomy or soul because it was always a product made with false ideas about itself.

And to make things worse? Your mother is the other victim of the company that created you. They had her all along, trapped inside an experimental hellscape and hooked up to tubes and wires. Treated like a revered object the same way you were. She’s not human either. That means she’s the only one that can be one with you and understand you. Or so you believe.

All those years you spent separated from her, trying to make peace with what you thought was a natural difference in your DNA…all of it was meaningless because you were being lied to, controlled, used, and treated like the creation you were from the start. You were being kept from your mother and even told she was dead.

Of course you would break.

This is just the core of Sephiroth’s story and I’m not even mentioning all of the additional horror that goes into his life, but this alone would make anyone enraged beyond reason. It would send anyone into deep despair.

Sephiroth only climbed out of that pitch black despair by using hatred, rage, and the drive to return to his mother. He reshapes his entire person to embrace the monster Shinra created. He embraced what he believed they made him to be without his consent, and turned his back on the “others” besides himself and his mother.

[pentanguine]

The appeal of a hysterectomy grows by the day

[sthilarions]

Charles almost gets killed by a torture hex. Pain is the most effective way to kill a ghost, and Charles is so so strong but not built for suffering like Edwin is, and Charles is already fading when Edwin finally finds the right counter-spell and drags him back to solidity.

Two days later, Charles gets almost torn in half by a giant monster, and Edwin knits him back together with giggling ringing in his ears and green light at the corners of his vision. Edwin’s hands dig into Charles’s wounds and pull Charles back together with a combination of magic and sheer force of will and every twitch of Edwin’s fingers drags tortured sounds out of Charles’s mouth, and it’s right about when Edwin pulls the last bit of skin together and Charles screams that Edwin thinks please, God, Despair, Death, whoever is there, whoever cares, let me take his pain, I’d take all of his pain to never have him hurt again.

It’s another day after that, when he’s reading through a book of healing spells to find a way to make sure this never happens again, that he gets an idea.

It’s another week, full of research and muttering and scribbled runes, before he comes to Charles with what is, as far as Charles knows, a pretty standard request. “I’ve found another protection spell for you. Stand there - to your left a little - good. It can’t stop you from getting injured, but it will take most or all of the pain of the injuries.”

“Oh, wow, that’s brills, mate! I could fight way better like that. I mean, pain is almost all ghost injuries are, anyway, yeah? That’s amazing!”

Edwin casts the spell, handwritten across several sheets of paper, and the glow as it sets in to Charles’s skin blanks out his vision long enough that he doesn’t see Edwin’s skin flush golden, too.

Edwin declines Charles’s suggestion to test the spell outside of combat, so Charles is still a little unsure for the first fight, but when he gets slashed with a cat-claw blade and feels absolutely nothing, he looks down at himself, grins almost maniacally, and wades back into the fight like he’s unstoppable.

He does seem to be, in fact. He fights like Superman, all but invulnerable, and Edwin says his combat efficiency has increased over 30 percent. He throws himself at monsters and ghosts and demons and takes them down with barely a twinge, no matter how hard they hit.

Edwin’s taken to standing further back than he used to in fights, which Charles figures is because the fights are getting into melee more than they used to.

They’re fighting some bastard with a hellwhip, all fire and iron barbs, when the first thing goes wrong. Charles gets hit, and he feels the twinge that’s all he gets from the worst hits now, but through the twinge he hears Edwin gasp.

He turns to Edwin and the whip hits him square in the back as he turns, and Edwin lets out a strangled groan.

Edwin seems to realize Charles is too distracted to do his job, because he dispatches the whippy bastard with a spell, and Charles is to him in a moment. But Edwin snaps and brushes him off and demands to tend to Charles’s injuries, because not hurting doesn’t mean they can’t be dangerous. As he tends to the wounds, Edwin’s breath keeps hitching, and Charles can’t get him to say why.

A week later and Charles gets hit with that same damn torture hex, because apparently they didn’t do a good enough job of defeating that wizard the first time. And he thinks for a second that this might be what finally breaks through Edwin’s protection spell, but it’s still only a twinge, albeit the harshest one yet - but Edwin lets out a suffocated yelp from behind him.

Charles starts to turn, and the wizard looks frustrated, and throws the hex at Charles again. And Edwin goes down to his knees.

And the wizard hexes Charles again, and Edwin curls forward, his breath in quiet pants that for a second are the focus of Charles’s entire world.

Charles puts some things together very, very quickly, and then before the wizard can try another spell, his head’s rolling on the floor.

—

Edwin has never seen Charles this angry at anyone, not in the thirty-one years they’ve been together. He had never imagined that Charles could possibly be this angry at him.

—

Charles screams at Edwin for hours, tears dripping down his face and vanishing before they hit his chest.

He pauses every hour or so and demands Edwin take off the fucking “protection spell” right fucking now, and every time Edwin refuses, and Charles starts yelling again.

Normally crying makes Charles’s throat hurt, one of the few bits of quotidian pain that stuck with him to ghost-hood. He doesn’t notice that it isn’t hurting now until a bit after sunrise, when Edwin refuses again, and Charles notices his voice is hoarse and tight.

Charles stops.

He turns away.

“No more cases, Edwin.”

“What?”

“I am not working on any cases, I am not doing anything that could put either of us in danger, until this spell is off.”

“You can’t - “

“I’ll see you later, Edwin.”

Charles walks out of the office, and Edwin stands staring after him.

—

It takes a month. A month of Charles spending time out of the office, and chilly silences, and Edwin trying to make arguments for his position and only getting a few words in before Charles is out the door.

Charles gets back, one day, to see Edwin sitting on the floor of the closet, holding a box of Cluedo in his lap, which they haven’t used since Charles found out.

“I’ll take it off.” Edwin’s looking down at the box, refusing to meet Charles’s eyes. Charles nods.

It doesn’t take very long for Edwin to work the counter-spell, and Charles immediately tests it, grabs for the first magical weapon in his bag and presses it against his hand. It hurts, and he presses harder until there’s a drop of blood and it’s accompanied by just as much sharp sting as it should be.

Edwin doesn’t say anything about Charles believing Edwin might be tricking him, because Charles isn’t wrong to, because he had, before. And if Charles doesn’t trust him anymore, that’s his right.

Charles sighs, looking down at his hand, then looks up at Edwin. “If you ever break my trust like that again, I’ll - “ he breaks off and looks back down. He sighs again.

“I won’t do anything. I’ll forgive you, because I’ll always forgive you, Edwin. But - please, please, please never do anything like that again, I can’t take it.”

Charles is crying, and his throat hurts.

Edwin’s voice is hoarse too, as he promises, never, never again.

And Edwin’s far too far away, Charles thinks. He has been for the last month. For longer, pulling far away during fights and after them - but it’s best not to think about that. With his mind resolutely on the present, Charles steps over the space between them and pulls Edwin into his arms.

“Let’s play some Cluedo, yeah?”

[phas3d]

Crushing on You || Slytherin Boys

type :: fluff

tw/cw :: none

contains :: draco malfoy, tom riddle, mattheo riddle, theodore nott, lorenzo berkshire

summary :: cute little loser things they do because they’re so down bad for you. inspired by the fucking masterpiece that is ONE DAY ONE NIGHTTTT AHHHHHH by bts ofc. some of these might be creepy but I think they’re cute

DRACO MALFOY

It’s always an enemies to lovers for him, he literally cannot get crushes on someone unless he hates their guts

Probably cause he got daddy issue but meh, we’re not solving that today

He HATED your guts, he has literally thought of getting a hit-man on you before

You’re his rival in every single aspect, even more than Harry is

Academics, you’re better

Athletics, you’re better

Clubs and community, you’re WAY better

He hates you and makes fun of you every single day and time he gets the chance

Even worse, Harry, Hermione, and Ron all come to defend you which makes him even more mad

But overtime, his aggressive staring and cursing under his breath turned into admiration

It all started when one day during Quidditch practice, some annoying 3rd year thought it would funny to mess with Draco’s broom

He ended up malfunctioning during practice, almost speeding into the walls of the school at astounding speeds

But luckily, you came just in time and yanked him off his broom, letting his broon get destroyed into the castle. But he was unharmed and was wrapped securely in your arms

From then on, he’s had a huge crush on you and all of his hatred turned into admiration

His aggressive stares were a bit softer and his insults had a hidden compliment in it

Everyone thinks that maybe he just feels bad and is finally regretting how rude he’s been to you, which is kinda true

He’s always watching over you, kinda like a stalker (because he is one)

He learns your daily routine, your favorite foods, clothing brands, makeup products, skincare routine, everything

Goes as far to hire and pay different students to watch after you if he’s busy

Somehow, you never notice and just think that people are nosy

He takes his research really far though, like straight up creepy

Draco gets his hands on all of your medical history, every single thing about you

He learns what your allergic too, what your rising sign is, how much you weigh at every check up

When he finds out that you’re anemic, he crushes up pills and sneakily adds it to your food to make sure you’re healthy

Does this with other things too, like Vitamin C, iron pills, etc etc etc

But in the end, it helps you a lot and makes you feel much better

And it makes him happy to know that you’re better because of him

One day, you get asked out by none other than Harry Potter

Instantly, Draco is enraged and everything in his sight is going to die a painful death

He feels betrayed by you despite treating you like utter shit for so many years

Not the mention he’s also gotten with maybe two or three other girls

He plans to ruin your date and he succeed

He burns Harry’s outfit, posses someone to spill hot tea on you, and even goes as far to sneak food you’re allergic to into your food

The date ends with you crying back to your dorm and Harry beating himself up

From this, Draco is happy and prepares to come and play knight-in-shining armor for you

But once again, he sees Harry comforting you and giving you a tight hug

Draco is literally about to kill Harry for this, cause ain’t no way he just did ALL of that for Harry to swoop in again

“You can’t take her! I loved her first! I love her more than your stupid four-eyed could ever!” He shouts at Harry

So yeah…. He just confessed out of rage

TOM RIDDLE

Never ever EVER will he get caught lacking for someone

This man keeps all of his lovey dovey feelings to himself, bro literally got a diary 😭

But when he saw you, and just like all of those dumb movies he’s seen, he was instantly love struck by you

He never knew that this was possible, he’s instantly disgusted with himself and does his best to the diminish the crush

But it won’t go away… you’re just perfect in every way

He’s so frustrated that he genuinely thinks of just killing you

But, thank GOD, he decides to not kill you and just become a stalker 😊

He finds out your entire schedule and walking path just so he can get small glimpses of you

Whenever you see him or make eye contact with him, he looks at you like you killed his entire family and he’s coming for revenge

But he’s actually drooling and hearing the most beautiful classical piano in the background

He sees you as a god/goddess that blessed him with your presence

Tom has always seen himself as the chosen one, the one given enough power to destroy and fix the world

And he sees you as his future Queen to the brand new world he will make :) kinda romanticccc

Finds all of your social media and stalks it for hours

He makes one of those fake burner accounts that looks like a bot

So when he follows you, you think nothing of it

But in reality, he’s watching you in depth

Bro finds your SPOTIFY and YOUR AO3 ACCOUNT… That’s how crazy he is

He made an entire playlist of every song you’ve ever posted and mentioned

He listens to it daily :)

Honestly, he’s just like me fr

He’s just a lil crazy and wants to know EVERYTHING about you

If you ever come up to him or are assigned partners, oh my god he’s gonna act so cold

Acts like he hates your guts and despises your existence

But in reality, he’s gonna thank every single religious figure out there for blessing him with allowing him to be in your space

MATTHEO RIDDLE

When he first saw you, he thought you were fine as hell

He was just trying to get into your pants

But when he tried to make a move, you scoffed and shoved him away

Instantly, he was attracted to you

He’s only been rejected like twice, and both times it ended with them begging on their knees for him

He was about to do the exact same thing to you

Unlike the others, he’s the only one that shows it and actively makes a move

Constantly flirts with you, no matter the time or day

Kinda like Filipino courtingggg 🤭

Finds all of your classes and walks you to all of them

Even though you want to walk with your friends, he won’t let you and always pulls you away from them

He skips his classes constantly just so he can be with you and flirt with you more

Even if you keep rejecting him or even slap him, he won’t stop. He loves when girls play hard to get

Sends you flowers, they’re a little bit ugly, but it’s the thought that counts

Sends you chocolates and stuffed animals to the point where a whole section of your dorm is dedicated to the pile of 65 stuffed animals you’ve received

He can’t really write poems or love songs, but he sends you little drawings that are barely readable

He makes little stick figures to represent you guys, one that’s super tall with abs (him) and another one that has hair and a triangle body (you)

Although you can barely understand his chicken scratch drawings, it makes you giggle from how stupid they are

Sometimes it’s him fighting off dragons, or you drowning and he saves you, or him being a rich king and you’re his queen

Never ever gives up on you, no matter what

Will fight off every single competition he has, he doesn’t care if they end up paralyzed

One time, someone older than you guys by one year tried to ask you out

Because he was a grade above you guys, he thought Mattheo wouldn’t fight him

But nopppeeee he was dead wrong, Mattheo sent him to the hospital wing repeatedly for a whole month

Even though the poor guy learned his lesson, Mattheo was mad that not only did he have the balls to ask you out but to also doubt Mattheo’s strength

Surprisingly, he cares a lot towards your friends as well and never leaves him out of the picture which is sweet

If you get a 100 roses from him (an almost daily occurrence), then he’ll get your best friends a small bouquet of 10-12 roses in return

If you get a huge chocolate box of the most expensive chocolates, then your friends get a small little wrapped box of a few chocolates

It’s really sweet and it makes your friends see that he’s actually pretty cool and sweet

Definitely goes around and lies to people by saying you two are dating

Eventually, everyone is fucking tired of you guys and basically sees you as a couple

One day, your friends say they’re gonna have a girls day and ask you to meet them at this nice restaurant

But surprise! The girls lied, you got all dressed up for nothing :(

But surprise again! Mattheo pops up. Your friends set you up with him to help you two to finally start dating

THEODORE NOTT

He’s had plenty of one night stands, weird situation-ships, and more but with you, he’s never had that

You’ve been his friend for ages, before he got hot and ripped

And he appreciated you a lot for that, he felt like he could finally be himself with someone

Over the years, he’s slowly gotten more and more comfortable with you

When he was going to bed, he thought to himself “I wouldn’t mind marrying (y/n)”

He smiled as he said that, about to sleep until his eyes shot wide open as he repeated what he said

“I wouldn’t mind marrying (y/n)??!???!!?”

When he realized he likes you, he’s a complete idiot

Normally with girls, he’s super smooth and charismatic - but that’s only because he’s trying to get into their pants

With you, you knew all his tactics and how awful of a person he can and HAS been over the years

You’ve seen him cheat, yell, and sometimes be borderline abusive to his past girlfriends

He starts to worry about how you perceive him and wants to make sure he seems like a good option

He becomes so awkward around you, it’s painful

Starts to be way nicer to you than he ever has been and becomes a lot more chivalrous

He takes off his jacket and shields you from rain, if anyone teases you he’ll get really defensive, he spoon feeds you at times, always pays for your lunch and dinner

Even goes as far as to take you on shopping sprees with no limit - even if you say no he’ll just keep track of everything you look at and buy it for you

Gets you flowers every week and always excuses it as “this is what best friends always do”

You two are basically dating… just without an official title

He’s TERRIFIEDDDD to ask, he’s literally had break downs over his fear of you rejecting him

Please just confess to him yourself, I’m not sure when he’ll get the balls and confidence to do it

LORENZO BERKSHIRE

He’s the most sane out of all of them all 😭

Literally the one line from Taylor Swift, “in a world of boys he’s a gentleman” AHAAAAHHHHH

He gets a crush on you after you two are partnered for a long term project

Loves how smart and dedicated you are, it inspires him to be the same way

Sometimes he purposely acts dumb just so that you’ll help him

Always pays attention to the small details and everything you do

Spoils you ROTTEN omg

Will take you out to go shopping with him and he whips out his black card and casually drops 25k just on clothes and makeup for you

He loves the feeling of spoiling you, makes him feel like your future husband

Praises you for everything, even the bare minimum

“Woah! I like your outfit!” And you’re literally wearing the required school uniform

He wants to date you and call you his own, but he knows he’s a fuck boy deep down

Every time he’s dated a girl, he’s ended up breaking up with them because he can’t commit or just straight up cheating on them

He’s very confident that he could change and be better, but he wants to be perfect before he dares you

Because he sees you as perfect :”) and you only deserve the best

You help motivate him to become better, even though you didn’t know you did

Starts going to the gym, works harder in school, tries to be more nice to everyone

Eventually, he’ll get the guts to ask you out for the Yule ball but he’ll keep saying you’re going as “friends”

But one day you’ll overhear him and his group talking about how fat of a crush he has on you

They all tease him and call him a simp, loverboy, everything

But when he sees that you’ve been listening the entire time, he’s so reddddd

Tries to hide his face and runs away, he avoids you for a little bit

He’s so so so scared of not being good enough or even ruining his relationship with you

He’d genuinely be okay with just being your best friend for all his life whilst loving you, even though it would hurt him so badly

Please just accept this boy 🙏 tell this man he’s enough and that you love him

read more here! :D

[woodohwanedandproud]

@applestorms #yes yes absolutely #idk to some degree generally i try to approach stories on their own basis at least initially #e.g. focusing on DN in terms of characters rather than distinct questions of ethics like whether or not light is actually doing good etc #but. recently i think i’ve been questioning that a bit #it’s just hard to separate it out entirely even if unintentional y’know #also it drives me nuts when people do the ‘uhuhuhuh um acktually. 🤓👆light was right’ schtick #no he was fucking not!! #it is core to DN imo that light very rarely has to actually interact with his victims #to see them for their humanity or personal mindsets or lives #the ways in which they might’ve been pushed to crime one way or another through the circumstances of their lives #idk it just falls into that classic mindset of seeing criminals as ‘doing evil for evil’s sake’ #and refusing to see the very real human motivations that exist behind every crime #ultimately light is completely unwilling to engage with any moral quandaries because of the nature of his mindset surrounding KIRA in the #first place & the selfish motivations he personally holds #ironically he sees himself in the exact way he refuses to see any of the people he passes judgement on #sighh idk. is any of that coherent #again yeah it’s hard to piece this out fully w/o good context of the japanese justice system #but also like… i mean light is killing american criminals too. by proxy he is almost undoubtedly falling for the same racist bias inherent #to the american justice system #and any other biases racial or otherwise present in justice systems worldwide #or even outside of those justice systems i mean yeah he does some ‘research’ or whatever for most kills #and only tries to target the worst of the worst at least initially #but c’mon #they say it in series— the crime rate starts dropping incredibly once KIRA is well known to the world #how low do you think light ends up dropping his standards? esp once mikami gets involved #note that his reaction to mikami’s claims is never ‘that’s wrong’ but always ‘that’s too soon’ #he WAS planning on getting rid of all the so-called lazy and useless parts of society at some point #there are flaws inherent to light’s approach yes but he’s also kind of fucking terrible regardless #he does not respect or connect with the rest of humanity in the slightest #light sees himself as being above the rest of humanity, as the peak ideal that everyone should strive to be. once you start getting rid of the most egregious offenders, how soon does the mindset transform? when you start killing off everyone that isn’t like you? it’s a blessing, frankly, that light only reigned for 6 years. i cannot imagine what the world would’ve looked like if he had a full lifetime of that kind of power @moonlarked (OP) read your tags and you’re absolutely right! tbf death note is super fucking vague about what light “counts” as criminality…I dunno if he researched the American prison system or whatever when killing Americans but death note doesn’t seem to know either! like yeah he absolutely killed war criminals corrupt politicians evil rich people etc etc but i think the sense of dehumanization is really important here

yeah death note is very much not interested in breaking the status quo at all or meaningfully criticizing the police system for obvious reasons (it’s a crime thriller that has no interest in being anything but entertaining) but i think it’s interesting to expand on the implications of the characters with the ideas of totalitarianism and state sanctioned violence in a death of the author kind of way

(obviously i am coming from a western viewpoint, if anyone familiar with the japanese criminal justice system wants to go more in depth with this feel free to, I’ve definitely heard interesting ideas in that regard)

[joaniscruzing]

echoes in the elixirs

WOOHOOOO yay this fic is finally done! i had so much fun writing this! thank you to everyone who supported the last fic i did, i was so happy to see so much interest! special shoutout to @joj0-thesimp for requesting and proofreading beforehand! per usual, requests are ALWAYS welcome! I write for jinx, vi and caitlyn, and do take smut requests.

also, i did my research on the herbs. a good amount of people predict that Jinx struggles with schizophrenia, which its symptoms can be alleviated with ginkgo. please let me know if my research is wrong, that way i can fix this :)

summary: jinx, looking rather off, enters your apothecary, to which you take care of her for the night.

warnings: mention of jinx's mental health issues, mention of seizures, lots of fluff, herbs are basically meds for jinx, jinx needs a hug, one-bed trope, cuddling

“Have a great day!” you called as you gave your product to your client. In the Undercity, every day in the apothecary was quite a busy one. Hundreds of people would file in every day, as they would trade in for your elixirs and remedies that would cure their pain and suffering, even if it was just for a while. The atmosphere was always loud and bustling, making you struggle to keep up.

However, when Jinx would arrive in your shop, things would usually calm down for the amount of time she was there. Business would slow down, and it was usually just you and her alone in the store. Or maybe it wasn’t, and you were just so enamored by Jinx to even notice. Either way, Jinx was your one time to stop and take a breather during the day, which was ironic, considering her electrifying, energetic presence. 

“So, do you have my order, sugar?” Jinx would ask when she would enter.

“Sure do! Right here,” you’d always answer. However, today, there was something different. Jinx seemed like there was some sort of hole inside her. She hadn’t shown up for a while, since Silco had died, Piltover had been attacked, and she had had to hide to stay alive.

Today, however, she entered the store, a hood over her head, and her head low. Not to your surprise, instead of greeting you with those words, she browsed the store first, looking around, and generally not communicating with anyone. Understandable. However, you saw she was shaking as if winter’s frost had bitten her, and she had been without a coat. Trying not to overthink it too much, you went on with your business, packing up and giving your orders and occasionally convincing customers to buy more. When your final order was given, you left your table to check up on Jinx.

“Hey Jinx, are you okay?”

She seemed startled by your words, as if she didn’t expect you to come up to her and ask her that. She immediately tried to leave the store, ultimately avoiding your question.

“Jinx!” you called after her, grabbing her arm. ��Do you need anything?”

“Yeah,” Jinx admitted, choked up in tone, “I need a shit ton of ginkgo biloba. More than you usually give.” Your stomach drops. Fortunately, now you know exactly what’s going on, and what you can do to help her.

“Is it getting worse?” you ask, turning Jinx around, and holding her shoulder. Her face was all you needed as an answer. Tear streaks lined her face, black and mixed up with her makeup. Her fingernails were unpainted and outlined with her blood from picking at the skin around it so much. The only distinct features that stayed were her two long braids, still hanging off her head and cascading past her waist to her ankles.

“With Silco dead, I just… don’t feel important anymore. They’re getting louder. I can’t sleep, or work, or do anything, I-” Jinx divulges, her head in her hands. You remove her hands from her face and replace them with your own.

“Jinx, do you need to stay here tonight? I can make you some food, and make you a nice tea with the ginkgo, as well as some lavender to calm you down. Whatever you need.”

“How much ginkgo?”

“The usual dosage I give you. Any more could make things a lot worse. Plus, the lavender will calm you down, help you sleep.”

“How much worse? Like what, I pass out for a week or something?”

“Jinx, have you ever heard of a seizure?”

“Oh. I guess I could stay the night. It’s not like I have anything better to do at home or anything.” With that, you closed up your shop, locking the doors, and covering the windows, that way no one knew you were secretly housing Piltover’s most wanted criminal.

You took the time to make Jinx a nice meal, as you knew she already didn’t eat enough, let alone whatever her eating habits were during this tough time of hers. As the meal cooked, you also ground up some lavender and ginkgo, which you then put into a bag in order to prepare her tea. After that, you left the kitchen in the back of your shop real quick to check on Jinx.

“Shut up! She wants to help me, I know it!” you heard her shouting, pacing around the room. Before you knew what you were doing, you ran up to her and hugged her as tightly as you could, making sure she knew that you did care. You heard her breathing slow down, and her body unwind as her tense state left her.

“You good, Jinx?” you asked. She pulled away to look at you, surprised.

“Why do you even care this much?”

“Look, you’ve told me a few things about yourself here and there. And it sucks. Other than the herbs I know you need to calm down, I know you need to be taken care of right now. You need someone to be there for you. And I want to be there for you right now.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re nice to be around.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re funny, and caring, and innovative, and your presence always brightens my day.” With this, Jinx’s round, purple eyes widen.

“I brighten your day?”

“Yes, Jinx. You brighten my day. I look forward to seeing you on the days you’re to come pick up your herbs just so I can see you, even if it’s for a few minutes. Jinx, everyone here is so down to business, and you’re the one who always lingers. Well, sometimes. Other times you were afraid of getting caught for sneaking out, so you were in and out.”

Jinx hugs you this time, burying her face in your chest.

“You’re a good person, don’t ever forget that,” Jinx discloses, tightening her grip.

“Okay, hate to let you go, but I do need to check in on the food and tea.” Jinx holds on as you struggle your way to the kitchen, making sure the food didn’t burn during the moment between the two of you. Luckily, everything was ready, and in about five minutes, dinner had been served for you both. Jinx’s tea helped her greatly, calming her down. The sense of calmness in her eyes brought relief to yours, as you were glad to know that Jinx’s head would slow down for a bit. She was also happy to eat the meal you cooked, which, per your prediction, was the first proper meal she had had in a very long time. After your scrumptious meal, you both prepared for bed. However, there was one small kink in the works of your plan to take care of Jinx; there was only one bed.

“Oh, don’t worry about it,” you assured, “I can sleep on the floor.”

“Are you sure? I can sleep there too,” Jinx replied. You put your foot down though, insisting that she needed a proper sleep. It truly didn’t worry you at all. You began to lay down on the ground, preparing for your sleep. Just as you were about to close your eyes, you heard Jinx’s voice from the corner.

“Could you maybe sleep in the bed with me?”

“Yeah, is everything okay?”

“I just, haven’t slept in a new place that wasn’t where I was holed up in for a long time. Plus, you’re comforting to be around.” You get up, pillows and blankets in your arms, and settle into the bed with Jinx. She clutches onto your waist, her legs wrapping around yours. It takes every fiber in you to not turn around and spoon Jinx right there and then. However, your bountiful dinner, Jinx’s tea, and the calming atmosphere put both of you right to sleep.

so. i originally was going to make this some sort of a love story, but i felt like i couldn't considering jinx's mental state in this fic. shall i draft a part 2/ time jump where they get together?

taglist: @ananas26t @stupendousbananasharkcop @sarcasm-is-my-form-of-attack @t-wylia @emiliaisdead @ihatethis222 @west-c0ast-00 @shootingc @iliterallyhavenoideawhattosay @sweetstarfalls @klerns-birdie

(btw, this is the largest taglist i've had per explicit requests. thank yall so much for supporting <3)

[bohemianblasphemy]

“Feel this? It’s just for you”. Gawd I need that so bad!

I’m so sorry for lack of posting yall - my course is getting busy and I’m in a bit of a mental health slump but here we go MORE BUTCHER✨

Another late night at the iron building had come again - research after research, another piece of paper to file away, it was an endless rabbit hole of corruption and scandal when it came to taking Vought down.

The quiet clicks of your keyboard filled your little corner of the office, your eyes often drifting to the desk parallel to you where Billy sat. His focus was on his computer monitor, scrolling through his folders upon folders of information.

Seeing his eyes dart back and forth, his head in his palm to hold himself up, index finger placed on his upper lip and running over his moustache… you couldn’t help but stare.

Your gaze didn’t go noticed by him, his eyes quickly darting over to you which made your heart skip- having been caught.

“You right there?” His voice was gravelly- a sly smirk spreading across his face, his question bouncing off the walls of the once still room.

“Sorry…” you mumbled, turning your attention back to the computer monitor. Billy chuckles to himself, switching off his device.

Pushing his chair out from his desk he grabbed his bottle of whiskey that he had on display, pulling two glasses from his drawers.

“Care for a drink with me? You’ve been workin’ hard all day…” he poured his own drink, looking over to you for your answer. “Yeah, thanks Billy…” you smiled softly at him, turning off your own computer and stepping away from your desk.

Billy grunted in acknowledgment, pouring you a glass and passing it to you as you walked toward him. Taking a sip of the brown liquor, the burn of the alcohol slid down your throat causing you to cough, making Butcher laugh softly as he tossed back his drink as if it were water.

“Cmon love surely that little sip didn’t make ya cough like that.” He teased.

“Shut up, butcher.” You replied back sarcastically. The second sip you took going down smoother but the grimace still appeared on your face.

Butchers eyes never left your body as he poured himself another glass, drinking you in. Watching the way you stood nursing your whiskey, giving him the odd nervous glance in which he found himself admiring.

You both stood there, sipping your drinks in the stillness- occasionally interrupted by sounds of the streets below.

“You know love…” he broke the silence and stepped forward toward you, looking down at you.

“I see the way ya look at me…” he was close enough to you to feel his hot breath on your cheek, the lingering scent of alcohol on him.

The look in his eyes made your heart race, your breath hitching in your throat. “Billy…” you croaked making him smirk, knowing what he was doing to you was making you got.

Taking your glass and placing it on the table next to you, he pulled you into him by the waist. The desire between you two was undeniable, your hands pressed against his muscular chest and his lingering along your hips and backside.

Billy could see the want in your blown out pupils, pressing himself against you- hearing you gasp as you could feel his hardened cock against your pelvis.

He took one of your hands that was on his chest, running it down his abdomen- feeling the soft material of his shirt before guiding it further down to the rough texture of his jeans and placing your palm right where he wanted you most, feeling him twitch under your touch.

“Feel this?” He whispered in your ear, leaving soft kisses along the side of your neck. “It’s just for you…”

You sighed softly at his words, a shiver of lust tingling in your spine. He brought his head back up to look at you, seeing your eyes filled with a mixture of suprise and longing, making your cheeks flush a dark shade of red.

“Now now, don’t get all shy on me love…” he cooed, bringing his hand up to your face. His thumb caressed your chin, gently playing with your bottom lip.

His action encouraged a small whimper from you, making him chuckle.

“Ya want me sweetheart? Ya want me as much as I want you?” His lustful timbre rang in your ears, awakening every single nerve in your body.

His embolden comment caused you to become bold, looking up at him with challenge and want filling you to the brim.

“I want you bad…” you breathed, your hand still on his length as you squeezed him gently, causing a growl from within him and sending butterflies to your stomach.

Without hesitation he closed the distance between you both, encapsulating your lips with his in a fiery embrace. You were both hungry, feral for each other’s touch.

His hands gripped under your ass, lifting you up and placing you upon the wooden desk behind you- laying you down as his fingers fiddling with the fastening of your pants and underwear pulling them down your legs, discarding them to the floor.

Butcher soon reached for his own jeans and undid them, pulling them down enough for his cock to spring free before returning to you- looking at you laid out on the desk with your legs spread, tracing his digits along your inner thigh toward your glistening cunt.

A small gasp left his mouth as he felt your wetness, fingers rubbing between your folds and circling your clit- his eyes flickering to your face seeing you bite your lip at his touch.

“That’s just for you…” you whispered, echoing his words from earlier. He suddenly stopped, letting another growl fall from his throat as he moved forward, sliding his dick along your folds gathering your wetness.

“Damn fuckin’ right it’s just f’me…” he grumbled, tapping your clit with his tip and making your hips jolt, slowly drifting himself down to your entrance and pushing into you slowly.

You gasped and held onto the edge of the desk, feeling him fill you to the brim as you let out a deep sigh, adjusting to his length.

“P-please butcher, please move… I need it.” You asked, butcher happily obliging as he snapped his hips into yours. He dragged his thumb down to your clit, circling it for extra stimulation.

The sound of slapping skin and grunts from the both of you filled the room, endless profanity bounced off the walls as Butcher railed into you.

“B-Billy!” You whined, your head falling back as you felt the warmth within your stomach build, thighs quivering around him as you neared your orgasm.

“Fuckin’ cum f’me love, I wanna feel you cum on my cock.” Butcher grunted, loving the way your walls clenched around him. His thumb continued to circle you as you came hard, hearing your strangled sounds echo through the room.

His thrusts became laboured as you came on him, his cock twitching as he came deep inside you with a gutteral moan.

Butcher stood there for a moment to admire your flushed face and parted lips, humming softly as he pulled you up to sit at the edge of the desk, kissing you like there was no tomorrow.

“Butcher…” you whispered, looking up at him as you pulled away from the kiss. “Shhh… just kiss me.” He replied back, bringing you in for another kiss, holding you in his embrace- the outside world seeming to be put on pause as you were entwined with one another, not letting go.

[alpaca-clouds]

Worldbuild Differently: Unthink Religion

This week I want to talk a bit about one thing I see in both fantasy and scifi worldbuilding: Certain things about our world that we live in right now are assumed to be natural, and hence just adapted in the fantasy world. With just one tiny problem: They are not natural, and there were more than enough societies historically that avoided those pitfalls.

Tell me, if you have heard this one before: You have this fantasy world with so many differnet gods that are venerated. So what do you do to venerate those gods? Easy! You go into those big temple structures with the stained glass in their windows, that for some reason also use incense in their rituals. DUH!

Or: Please, writers, please just think one moment on why the fuck you always just want to write Christianity. Because literally no other religion than Christianity has buildings like that! And that has to do a lot with medieval and early post-medieval culture. I am not even asking you to look into very distant cultures. Just... Look of mosques and synagogues differ from churches. And then maybe look at Roman and Greek temples. That is all I am asking.

Let's make one thing clear: No matter what kind of world you are building, there is gonna be religion. It does not matter if you are writing medieval fantasy, stoneage fantasy, or some sort of science fiction. I know that a lot of atheists hate the idea that a scifi world has religion, but... Look, human brains are wired to believe in the paranormal. That is simply how we are. And even those atheists, that believe themselves super rational, do believe in some weird stuff that is about as scientific as any religions. (Evolutionary Psychology would be such an example.)

What the people will believe in will differ from their circumstance and the world they life in, but there is gonna be religion of some sort. Because we do need some higher power to blame, we need the rituals of it, and we need the community aspect of it.

Ironically I personally am still very much convinced that IRL even in a world like the Forgotten Realms, people would still make up new gods they would pray to, even with a whole pantheon of very, very real gods that exist. (Which is really sad, that this gets so rarely explored.)

However, how this worship looks like is very different. Yes, the Abrahamitic religions in general do at least have in common that they semi-regularily meet in some sort of big building to pray to their god together. Though how much the people are expected to go into that temple to pray is actually quite different between those religions and the subgroups of those religions.

Other religions do not have this though. Some do not have those really big buildings, and often enough only a select few are even allowed into the big buildings - or those might only be accessible during some holidays.

Instead a lot of polytheistic religions make a big deal of having smaller shrines dedicated to some of the gods. Often folks will have their own little shrine at home where they will pray daily. Alternatively there are some religions where there might be a tiny shrine outside that people will go to to pray to.

Funnily enough that is also something I have realized Americans often don't quite get: Yeah, this was a thing in Christianity, too. In Europe you will still find those tiny shrines to certain saints (because technically speaking Christianity still works as a polytheistic religion, only that we have only one god, but a lot of saints that take over the portfolios of the polytheistic gods). I am disabled, and even in the area I can reach on foot I know of two hidden shrines. One of them is to Mary, and one... I am honestly not sure, as the masonry is too withered to say who was venerated there. Usually those shrines are bieng kept in a somewhat okay condition by old people, but yeah...

Of course, while with historically inspired fantasy settings make this easy (even though people still hate their research), things get a bit harder with science fiction.

Again, the atheist idea is often: "When we develop further scientifically, we will no longer need religion!" But I am sorry, folks. This is not how the human brain works. We see weird coincidences and will go: "What paranormal power was responsible for it?" We can now talk about why the human brain has developed this way. We are evolved to find patterns, and we are evolved (because social animal and such) to try and understand the will others have - so far that we will read will in nature. It is simply how our brains work.

So, what will scifi cultures believe in? I don't know. Depends on your worldbuilding. Maybe they believe in the ghost in the machine, maybe there si some other religions there. You can actually go very wild with it. But you need to unthink the normativity of Christianity to do that. And that is... what I see too little off.

[satangcrush]

home is where the heart is

solomon x g!n reader, sfw, not beta-read

cw▸ one mention of pretty, author didn’t do any research a/n▸ vaguely inspired by this post. this had been marinating in my drafts for like three months so i decided to finish this tdy LOL. ONE DAY! ONE DAY! i will go back and rework this (lie.)

The sun was bright today.

He stares into the sky, squinting at the round object in the sky. Somehow, he thinks it looks even brighter than usual. When he shifts his gaze down, his eyes land on you.

You stand there with a brilliant smile, eyes creased as you gestured for him to come over.

“Are you not coming?” You questioned, hands raised to block the sun's rays from your eyes. Solomon regrets not bringing an umbrella. “We have to get there before they go off for lunch.”

He thinks you look even prettier in this light, the curves of your face all soft and round.

“Right.” He says.

You let out a huff of laughter before holding your hand out for him to take.

“Come on.” He takes your hands and it feels like coming home all the same. He wonders how he managed to live so long without your touch. “We really should make a move.”

.

The view of the arched building came into sight.

He slows down right before the doors. His hands were trembling but you held onto them tightly, stroking your fingers in a comforting motion. It was the same unconscious motion you do when both of you are lying down in bed.

A clockwise circle between the space of your index and thumb and a stroke from the left to the right. He doesn’t know when this started but it had become a staple in his daily routine. 

“Are you nervous?” You questioned curiously. It seemed like something caught your attention as you raised your head to sniff at the air in the building. Watching you, he does the same thing too.

“Doesn’t it smell like the RAD library?”

He nods. The easy conversation helps his heart to relax, untightening the knots in his chest. He doesn’t know why he’s so nervous. After all, he was the one who suggested this.

“A little but that’s because I’m still trying to memorise them.”

“You nerd. I didn’t write anything, you know.” You snort, reaching up to pick a string off his shoulder. You proceeded to pat down his overcoat, the same one you ironed in the morning.

“I know.” He pauses, slowing down to a stop now that both of you have reached your destination. “Are you–”

“–Yes, I am absolutely sure. Give it up, old man.” You interrupted him, pulling him by your intertwined hands.

“I have never been surer of anything in my life.”

He clears his throat shakily at your statement. His hands have started trembling again but you hold them even firmer in your grip this time.

“You’re not having second thoughts right?” Your gaze was suspicious as you turned to look at him with pursed lips. "I will curse you till the end of eternity if you say so."

He rolled his eyes. “Does Solomon The Wise Sorcerer ever have second thoughts?”

“Yeah, yeah.” You point to the door, which somehow looks less intimidating now. Your banter had definitely helped him to calm down. “Can we actually go in now?”

“Be my guest.”

You slowly pushed the door open, smiling at the official who welcomed both of you. He beckoned for the both of you to take a seat on the wooden chair.

“Registering for marriage?”

“Yes,” Solomon answers, handing over all the necessary documents. Honestly, he hadn't done much. Once he asked the question, you had taken over and handled everything.

It seemed like he wasn't the only one who had been thinking about this. He sees you sidle up to his side and an arm automatically wraps around his waist.

He smiles, body already angling towards you.

.

With how out of touch he was with human society, he let you handle all the interactions while he continued to rehearse his vows in his head.

Focus.

“Do you have anything you want to say?”

That was his cue.

“I–” He was becoming choked up for some reason, staring at your face. In response, you made a silly face.

He knows it should be embarrassing, with how strongly you make him feel emotions. Emotions that he thought had dried up over the years. But he couldn’t help it.

“Yes, I do.”

The official looks over at you. You repeat the same phrase with a quirk on your lips.

.

Through the window, the sun had already fallen to reveal an inky black abyss. Somehow, this reminded him of the times when he used to look up to the moon and beg for guidance.

Look at how things changed, he mused.

“Do you think Lucifer and the rest will get angry?”

That was your first question after a long silence of waiting.

“Isn’t it a little too late to care about their opinions now?” He countered back, rounding the corner to the next room.

“True.” You shrugged, glancing up at him with a mischievous look. “Good luck to you.”

“Thanks for the confidence.”

He couldn't wait to rub this in their faces. He let out a chuckle, thinking back to earlier. Both of you had up and left in the early morning without informing anyone of your current quest.

Though with their overprotectiveness, he did send a message to the firstborn to inform him.

The creak of the door caught his attention and his eyes darted over to you. You cocked an eyebrow, motioning for him to go ahead.

The official picked up the document from the table and handed it over to you.

“This is your license, please check carefully if everything is written correctly. If all’s good, thank you for visiting the courthouse.” You listened with an intent nod, nodding at the official's statement.

“If nothing else, we wish you a happy marriage.”

You rattle off everything on the certificate, doing your part to confirm everything. He tries hard to listen. He really did. Yet, his eyes remained on the table and his heart pounded hard. 

His name.

He gets to use your name.

“Solomon?” You pause when you notice that he isn't responding. “What’s wrong?”

“Doesn’t our names sound good together?” He croaked out. He suddenly felt like he had been sent back in time, feeling like a child learning how to speak for the first time.

Weird.

His voice didn’t seem to be coming out correctly. All awkward and wonky as if it was stuck to the back of his throat.

“Oh.” It looked like you had a sudden realisation. You gave him a sheepish grin.

“Your IDs were all forged so I thought using my surname would be better for us in the long run.” You mouthed at him, covering your mouth from the official's sight.

He’s starting to feel silly with how much he’s nodding. He continues to stare at his name written in the document. He feels like he’s holding his heart in his hands.

“You know that I love you right?”

“Of course.” You give him a sidelong look of exasperation. One so fond that he felt his heart stutter. “I love you too.”

He just keeps staring at you. He probably looks all weird, eyelids narrowed with a slight scowl. But all he’s feeling is bright, unadulterated joy.

He’s married.

“Good luck in the Devildom though.” You suddenly say, stretching your arm so that you can snap a shot of the license with your D.D.D. “I have no doubt that you would be having a hell of a time.”

He looks at you with a fond smile. He watches amusedly as you send the photo of the license in your group chat with the brothers. Within moments, there were pings coming from both D.D.Ds.

“I’m ready for it.”

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

since i started looking more into mating rituals and parenting styles of crows (for very normal reasons i swear), i've begun to find the "Crowley is a dead-beat dad" joke a bit ironic, as most of the websites i've seen said that crows are actually very involved in their chicks lives while they're still in the nest. one website even considered crows "one of the best parents in the animal kingdom"

I’ve researched bird mating myself (not for TWST reasons, but because I have to care for a Real Bird), though not for crows specifically. Very interesting (and ironic)!

I wonder just how much “truth” there is behind that irl crow stuff and TWST lore 🤔 Because we have some clear instances of the real life animal reflecting TWST fantasy races’ behaviors! For example, Jack states that wolf beastmen are monogamous (they mate for life and stick to that one partner), which is true of actual wolves too. Ruggie’s mother died giving birth to him, an occurrence which is not uncommon among female hyenas. The shape of the… uh… birth canal… is often too small and has a sharp turn, so giving birth is traumatic/can lead to complications so severe it literally kills the mom. Hyenas are also not monogamous, which may partially be why there is lore about Ruggie’s father leaving and never returning. There’s also non-mating behaviors which are reflective of irl animals, such as women from the Sunset Savanna being “strong” (since lionesses do most of the hunting), Azul having a strong grip (like that of an octopus), or Sebek’s family having scales and a strong bite (like crocodiles). I would say irl animals being used as part of character references is fairly common.

However! There are also examples of TWST’s fantasy races not exactly aligning with irl animals and their behaviors. When Leona talks about his brother and his wife, he refers to the wife singular, not wive(s). Irl lions have prides and mate with various partners over the span of their life. It’s rare for lizards (the closest thing to dragons, lol) to be monogamous, yet Maleanor seemed very loyal to her husband Raverne and is even described to dote on him. We also don’t know much about the twins’ or Azul’s families’ behaviors, so there isn’t much to compare there.

So really, I wonder where Crowley lies on this spectrum of “animal realism” 😂 Based on solely his current attitude, yeah… He ain’t much of a “Parent of the Year” www

[sirhamburrger]

DIE WITH A SMILE (m. bachira x reader)

━☆ (post-apocalypse au, for day three of @phantasmaebg) ━☆ in which the only thing you can do is join him in undeath. ━☆ wc (written portion): 831 || tags/cw: f!reader, reader is a researcher working on a cure for the virus, bachira is part of an elite military squad, major character deaths (both bachira and reader, among others)(this is a zombie apocalypse au after all) || event m.list ━☆ why did i write this... this is so sad *runs away crying*

meguru bachira is beautiful. a little tired - that much is evident from the dark circles under his golden eyes - but still: beautiful. his eyes practically light up when you step into the room, clad in full personal protective equipment. 

for a moment you get self conscious of how you look dressed like a walking banana, but that all disappears when he chuckles warmly, making you blush beneath your mask.

“you’re even more beautiful than i expected,” the squadron member breathes.

you cock your head to the side, highly skeptical as you take a seat in front of him. “you can only see my eyes, though,” you point out, voice muffled.

“yeah, well.” a short pause, then, “they say true beauty is all in the eyes.”

you don’t quite know how you should respond to that, so you don’t.

you end up talking to him than is honestly necessary for the psych eval. he’s a sweet man, and the things his squad-mates have said about him are proven true - optimistic, cheerful, perceptive. somehow, the man you’ve only ever been able to talk to over the phone from behind a reinforced glass panel has become one of the people you trust most in this world.

maybe it’s the way he listens to you intently about the stresses of work, lets you confide in him about hard days - especially really hard days when you find out another one of you has been lost to the virus - trusts you enough to spill his own secrets too.

maybe it’s the way he laughs, or calls you pretty when he’s not calling you “doc”. maybe it’s the way you relate to him, both being people with risky jobs. in a broken world like this, either of you could go at any minute. but he helps you accept it, and he helps you embrace it.

but maybe it’s the way he tries to reach a hand out to hold yours on the table during a particularly hard part of the conversation, but restrains himself, a dejected and heartbroken expression on his face.

how ironic that the only thing you want is the only thing you cannot have. not just yet, at least.

it’s been three days since squad z perished in tokyo’s biggest hot zone, and meguru is not doing well.

it started with erratic vitals - high blood pressure, arrhythmia, severe migraines, then escalated  violent outbursts. your superiors don’t allow you in the room with him any more, even though you’d bet your life he would never hurt you. it hurts to see him like this. delirious, in mourning, broken.

he is not the man he once was, and you’re not entirely sure he’ll live long enough to see that change.

he still talks with you, so at least that hasn’t changed. you are one of the last few scientists on earth even remotely close to synthesising a cure, since many have been wiped out already. it’s stressful, frankly, and you’ve had shameful, selfish thoughts about ending it all - joining the dead before you are forced to walk amongst them. but meguru tells you to keep your chin up, doc, you’re getting there.

and who are you to say no to him, if not for the fact that he’s not doing much better himself?

you open up to him once, more than you think you should. you tell him about how you’ve wanted to be a scientist for the longest time as a child, but before that, you wanted to be a singer. but your parents saw no future in it. so you never pursued it further.

in the quiet of the space between you, then, meguru bachira asks if you would sing for him.

and you do.

you don’t even notice when he starts to cry, but you know that you’re crying too.

you bring him flowers sometimes. he lets them die in a corner of the confinement cell. you can’t blame him for not even trying.

the horde has broken in.

all your colleagues, your superiors, your friends - they’re all gone. they’ve all been reduced to mindless monsters, hungry for human flesh. now, those monsters push against the door, trying to get to you.

you stare back through the glass, eyes landing on meguru, who convulses on the ground, clutching his head. his head jerks backwards, blood spilling from his mouth. just like all the others. you let out a sob, your heart aching for him.

you fumble for your phone.

the air smells like blood, and meguru looks like hell.

you pad towards him slowly, tears streaming down your face. you freeze when he notices you, hunger in his bloodshot eyes. you take a step towards him. hold his hand. embrace him. tilting your head to the side, exposing your neck to him.

he’s crying now as he mumbles something. it sounds like i’m sorry and thank you. maybe it’s both. you feel hot breath on your neck, and his sharp teeth sinking into your skin.

and all is well in the world.

bllk masterlist || general masterlist © sirhamburrger 2025

[blainesebastian]

something real

words: 13,045 ship: austin butler x female reader rating: SFW except for one explicit scene summary: i took inspo from a request about fake!dating for a wedding and from another film with a similar premise. what else do you do when your ex is getting married? hire a fake date notes: feel free to visit my austin masterlist warnings: none, but check the rating. tag list: @austinbutlermischief, @killerqueenfan, @stylespresleyhearted,

“You’re losing it.”

A short laugh escapes your lips because god, maybe you are. This all started out easily enough—you needed a date for your ex’s wedding. Right, the fact that you were even invited kind of drives you crazy. It’s not like you didn’t have a good relationship with Todd, you did? But it also doesn’t change the fact how things ended—he ‘meant’ to break things off with you but started seeing someone at the same time. Claire. The girl he’s marrying. But you’re not about to go through life with grudges and anger when you can just let things go.

Which is why you’ve entertained this wedding invitation in the first place?

But to go alone? That’s a fate worse than death.

Which, ironically, is exactly what your friend, Jill, is telling you you’re going to be with this idea you’ve come up with.

“It’s all perfectly safe.” You mutter, sliding onto a bar stool and turning to look at her. You’re wearing a light blue dress, pair of booties, and jean jacket. Just casual enough but also hinting you’ve got a figure to show off if you really wanted to.

She scoffs, “Yeah, that’s what everyone says before they end up on 60 Minutes.”

You can’t help but smile, tugging the file out of your course before setting it on the bar top. “Do you want me to explain it again?”

Jill puts her hands on her hips—as if that will somehow make her comfortable with all of this, but she’s not protesting either. So you open up the file and—

“So my neighbor’s used this service before to go to her high school reunion, you know, so she didn’t end up there alone. She went onto their online platform, filled out a survey and bam, she was matched with someone to go.”

Jill narrows her eyes, “For twenty thousand dollars.”

“Well it’s not charity,” You throw back, “I’ve done the research, there’s a ton of reviews—all positive. It’s not like it’s about sex or anything, it’s just…companionship for one event.”

Jill looks at the file, crinkling her nose, “There’s so many other ways you could have done this—Rick, the guy in 6B? He’s always thought you were cute.”

You laugh a little, “If I go out with Rick, there is a good chance I’ll end up missing some limbs—dude is creepy, Jill.”

Her friend rolls her eyes but it’s fond, opening up the file and pointing to a blank spot where this guy’s photo should be, “Okay, but you don’t even get to know what he looks like?”

“I think it was my Wi-Fi,” You state honestly, “Some of the images weren’t loading. But that’s why you’re here,” You grin, “Safety measures. So—” You gently push on one of her hips, “Go find a table, order a drink while I wait for Austin.”

“That’s the gigolo’s name?”

“Wedding date,” You correct, shooing her away until she heads to a table.

Taking a breath, you look at the reflective surface of the bar mirror in front of you, mentally praying that this somehow not a huge mistake and order a drink.

--

Chewing on the drunken cherry in your Manhattan, you glance down the bar as you see someone handsome talking to a small group of women. You wonder if that’s Austin, looking for you—he’s about ten minutes late. Your stomach clenches anxiously, knowing that maybe Jill was right and this is utterly ridiculous. But…you got invited to the wedding late (either it was a last-minute thought or it got lost in the mail) but there was no way you could organically find someone to ask.

Sure, you could have brought Jill or some other friend but…deep down? You know this is about making Todd feel utterly stupid for cheating on you, for leaving you for someone else. You don’t want him back, of course, but that feeling of satisfaction? That look on his face when he sees you with someone else? You want it.

You can’t not go and you can’t find someone random in your life already to go with…so when your neighbor mentioned this quick fix? How could you not look into it? You’ve got a ton of money saved from over the years, not to mention a small investment your grandfather put in your name. What’s the harm in looking into this, right?

“Y/N?”

Turning on the bar stool, you nearly swallow your own tongue as you’re met face to face with who you assume is Austin. And joke’s on you because he’s ten times more beautiful than the other guy at the bar you saw talking to those women. He’s tall, lean, in a pair of dark jeans and a black t-shirt underneath a black leather jacket. Easily handsome, like…James Dean or Elvis Presley. Doesn’t have to try very hard.

And suddenly something hysterical crawls up your throat as he takes a seat next to you, introduces himself as Austin, and apologizes for being late because of traffic because—

“I’m sorry—” You interrupt, shaking your head, “This uh, this isn’t going to work.”

His eyebrows draw together in confusion, his mouth opening and closing, “Excuse me?”

“You’re,” You laugh lightly, cheeks heating up. There’s this sickly sensation gripping your stomach, telling you to run, “No one is going to believe that we’re dating.”

And maybe that’s something oddly pathetic you shouldn’t have uttered outloud because what’s even worse, Austin seems to grip what you’re saying and his features soften. You do not want pity or sympathy, you’re just…stating a fact.

Austin takes in a soft breath and looks towards the bartender, ordering himself a beer, confusing you a little because you expected him to just…take off. There’s no money involved at this point, it’s a clean break. This meeting is just to discuss details.

“I think you’re underestimating yourself,” He states gently, eyes sweeping over your form. And god, he’s good, isn’t he? You suppose this is his job, making women feel good. Confident. Even though it’s all a lie.

Letting out a breath as his drink is set down on the bar, you figure there’s no harm in…talking with him, right? He came all this way; you can at least wait until he finishes his beer to turn him down. You’ll just go to this damn wedding alone—it’s really not that big of a deal, right?

Austin takes off his leather jacket, hanging it up on a hook underneath the bar and he smells amazing—some sort of cologne that’s fresh and almost citrusy. You run a hand through your hair and order another Manhattan.

“So your request said a wedding?”

“My ex,” You clarify, “And I don’t want him back, or anything, I just want him to feel like an idiot.”

Austin smiles a little, humming— “Well, that shouldn’t be too hard. I’m assumin’ he already is one.”

A small laugh stutters forward in your chest because yes, he is. Your shoulders start to relax just a little because maybe Austin gets it. By not going or going alone you…you don’t want Todd to think that he’s somehow gotten one over you, that you’re lonely or broken ever since you’ve separated.

“Have you…done weddings before?”

He shifts a little on the barstool so that he’s facing you a little easier, “I’ve done weddings the most,” He admits, “Two high school reunions, one funeral.”

You raise your eyebrows, setting your drink down on the bar. “A funeral?”

Austin shrugs lightly, “Some women just want a hand to hold on their hardest day, a shoulder to cry on. Someone to talk to.” He licks his lips, taking a sip of his beer, “I’m not one to judge.”

You straighten your shoulders and…you suppose you’re really not in a position to do that either, given you’re here to hire Austin so you feel less alone and pathetic at a wedding. You take a long look at him for a moment, —curious. He doesn’t want to be doing anything else?

“Can I ask—why are you doing this?” Your fingers trace shapes into the condensation on your glass. “This whole fake-date program?”

Austin clears his throat, “You can ask me whatever you want,” He starts and that within itself seems like a dangerous proposition. “I work at this café near here but uh, it doesn’t exactly bring a lot of money in. I want to be an actor, like…a serious one, the money I get from these dates I’m savin’ up to go to L.A.”

And he essentially gets to pretend to be someone he’s not. Like an endless list of auditions.

There are other things you want to ask, other questions stuck in your throat about doing weddings. Why weddings? The whole concept seems like a bad idea—a high school reunion, a holiday party, even a funeral makes more sense, doesn’t it?

Those aren’t emotionally connected events, there’s no…opportunities to fall into something deeper than what the contract of attachment allows. But weddings? It’s about love and finding your person and…going to one with someone else feels like such a slippery slope.

Or maybe it doesn’t because Austin is a professional.

“So if I…if we do this, what does it entail, exactly?” You take another sip of your drink, as if you need the liquid courage for his response.

A small smile graces his handsome face again, “Don’t overthink it. It’s whatever you want, whatever you’re comfortable with.”

You feel like there’s this heat uncoiling in your belly even though he’s not suggesting anything. Somehow, it’s in the ocean blue of his eyes—a depth there. You clear your throat, “You mean uh—if I require a dance partner? Because I love to dance at weddings…usually badly.”

Austin laughs warmly but shakes his head. “I meant if I was goin’ as your date or a boyfriend.”

And oh, of course, you hadn’t even thought about it but of course Austin would want a more specific role to sink his teeth into and your mind spins about what you want to do. It’s just one night, one silly wedding, there’s no long con here. It’s not like Todd will even care who you show up with, right? You’re the one who wants to feel less lonely—

And yet—

“You can think about it, if you need to—”

“Boyfriend.” You say, cutting him off. Heat returns to your cheeks…mise well go big or go home, right? If you’re going to do this? This has got to be a bad idea, right?

“Okay,” Austin smiles, “Good.”

So it’s settled that he’ll meet you at your place beforehand, you’ll iron out details of your relationship in case anyone asks and then you’ll go to the wedding together.

Austin stands and he tosses some cash on the bar counter (enough to cover your drink as well) and he hovers for a moment, tugging on his leather jacket. “My number’s in the file, in case you need it.”

Then there’s a moment where Austin watches you, fixing the lapels of his jacket. His one hand then rests on the bar, taking a step closer to you, and the way that you’re seated, your legs open just slightly to accommodate his body in your space.

“Don’t hit me, alright?” He smiles a little, leaning down, and honestly you’re the one that feels like you’re getting sucker punched in the stomach. Air right out of your lungs. “It was nice meeting you.”

You swallow, your mouth suddenly dry as your eyes flutter to his lips, “Yeah, you too.”

There’s more than enough time for you to pull away, but you don’t, so he kisses you.

It’s nothing obscene, but slow and gentle. Warm. Just enough to make your heart pound against your ribcage, electricity singing in your veins. You suppose it’s something you should get used to if Austin is going to pass as your boyfriend.

You raise your eyebrows a little as he pulls away, hot under the collar of your jean jacket.

“Figure we’d just get that out of the way so you could concentrate.” He teases and god, your mind is spinning. You kinda hate that he’s made you feel like this so easily, like somehow it’s second nature.

“What, that doesn’t cost extra?” You manage to throw out there, finding your voice.

Austin grins, another soft laugh rumbling in his chest. “I’ll see you soon.”

You let out a slow breath, running a hand over your hair as you watch him walk out of the bar before downing the rest of your drink.

“So that’s your date, huh?” Jill asks as she comes up behind you—honestly her voice kinda sounds like cotton in your ears. “Todd is gonna swallow his own tongue.”

And you can’t help but grin.

You meet one more time before the wedding, just…something to solidify that you do, in fact, know what you’re doing. But also to get a bit more comfortable around Austin and the fact that he’s going to be your boyfriend. You let out a slow breath, aggravated by how crazy that sounds. Maybe Jill’s right, maybe this is a bad idea (despite how handsome and charming Austin is).

He’s picked you up to go somewhere but won’t tell you where. And when the engine turns off, you undo your seatbelt and look out the windshield, “A custard house?”

“Was hopin’ you could go for somethin’ sweet,” Austin smiles a little, “They make these waffle custard sandwiches that’ll change your life.”

You hum lightly and start to get out of the car, a little confused because…well, you’re not sure what you expected, but it wasn’t this. “We’re here for ice cream sandwiches?”

Austin scrunches his nose in mock offense at her flippant description, “No, we’re here for waffle custard. You need to work on listenin’, come on.” He gets out of the car too and locks the doors.

You know you’re about to paying Austin a decent amount of money to be your stand-in date, your fake boyfriend, dragging him to this wedding for god knows what reasons make sense in your head but…you suppose you didn’t count on him being like this. A tiny bit thoughtful, sweet, funny even.

Or maybe he’s already a decent actor.

You follow him to the counter, your eyes trailing over at least thirty different custard flavors—not only that, but there’s twice as many toppings. How are you supposed to choose?

“You know what you want already?” You ask as Austin rolls up the sleeves of his jean jacket a little.

“I always know what I want.” He leans on the counter, turning towards the woman at the register to order French vanilla—but stops when you make a noise. He looks at you over his shoulder, raising an eyebrow. “Somethin’ you wanna share?”

You purse your lips and rocks back onto your heels, shaking your head, “No I just…vanilla, really? You don’t seem like the type.” She teases.

Austin smirks, straightening his back. “Oh, huh.” He motions to the large display menu. “Put your money where your mouth is, baby. What should I order?”

You let the pet name slide (and it does, like heated molasses right down in your veins), which is probably a dangerous slippery slope, but you’re too busy trying to take in a custard selection at the moment to care. You chew on your lower lip, slipping through the flavors written in chalk on the board and decides to go with your favorite pairing—

“He’ll have chocolate and strawberry custard in that waffle sandwich thing with…” You hum, “Caramel sauce and chocolate sprinkles.” You smile, clearly happy with your selection before ordering the same for yourself…except you also get chocolate sauce and whipped cream.

Because why the hell not?

“You’re gonna have that all over you before the night is over.” Austin motions to the dripping mess in your hands, carefully shelled between fresh waffles wrapped up in foil.

You slide yourself onto the hood of Austin’s car, almost sliding back down but managing to lean against the windshield before losing your custard sandwich.

“Challenge accepted.”

Austin smiles a little, sitting down next to you, looking far too handsome sprawled out on his car.

You realize that everything between you both is so dangerous, wrapped in gentle dynamite, the softest breath or touch capable of explosion. But it’s also tantalizing in a way that excites you—Austin is different, gentle but rough with the walls he keeps up.

Everything about this is a lie –circles in your head, over and over, trying to remind you not to take anything too seriously. And yet? You bury it deep with a bite of your custard sandwich. You moan softly and lick chocolate off your lips because Jesus, this is incredible.

Austin smirks, licking custard between the waffle before he takes a bite of his own. “Told you it was worth the stop.”

“I’m not going to admit you somehow know all just because you have decent taste in custard.” You smile and takes another bite of your waffle sandwich, leaning back to watch cars drive by.

“Give it time.” Austin glances over and you can feel his gaze, always like a magnet tracing the curves of your body. You want to tell him that you enjoy when he looks at you like that, to be felt and seen all at the same time, but you don’t want to give him the satisfaction.

You wonder if he looks at every woman who’s ever paid him like that.

You’re not sure you want to know.

You turn and meet his gaze, holding it for a moment before a small smile graces your lips. “Do you really work at a café?”

He nods, leaning further up against the windshield. “It’s called Mug Half Full; been there about three years.” He licks his lips, pulling a napkin from his pants pocket and wiping his chin where he feels caramel sticking. “What do you do? You didn’t mention it in your email.”

You swallow down a bought of self-loathing at the question and decide to take another bite of your sandwich; sweet hiding sour. “I uh, I’m kinda in-between jobs at the moment.” You know Austin has to be able to see through that terrible excuse of an answer. “I’m currently getting an online degree in education.”

Austin finishes his custard waffle, which is admirable because yours is two seconds away from becoming soup in your hands. You lick at the sides as he crumples up a napkin and puts his trash in a can nearby so it’s not in either of your way.

“What do you want to do?”

The question shouldn’t offend you as much as it does, the want and need to defend yourself raising your hackles a bit. You bite down on reacting too sorely; he’s just asking a question—and you realize you haven’t given him a reason not to ask something like that. Your bland response is what prompts the statement.

You suppose you’re just…too used to people asking that, especially since society makes you feel like you somehow got a late start in figuring things out. In reality, it’s never too early or too late to be whoever you want. You’re just…getting to that.

You clear your throat, setting your custard sandwich down on your lap a moment, the foil protecting your clothes. “I have no idea,” You admit with a soft laugh, “My relationship with my ex kinda took all my energy—supporting whatever he needed, you know? Now I’m just starting to figure myself out.” And you’re proud of that progress, even though it feels like pushing a boulder up a hill sometimes. “I might teach maybe, one day.”

He holds your gaze for a moment, slight amusement dancing in the corners of his eyes. He smiles gently, looking down at your hands before he picks up your sandwich and licks whipped cream off the corner. Ridiculously obscene and unnecessary but you let him do it anyways.

You have apparently become accustomed to sharing things—you’ve noticed that he continues the ruse of soft touches and intimate gestures when no one’s watching. You think it’s to help solidify the fact that you’re supposed to be dating, supposed to be into one another. Which isn’t very hard when he does things like that with his tongue.

Austin tosses your trash like he did with his own before turning to look at you, handing you a napkin to wipe your hands off. “I could tell you wanted more. And you know, there’s nothin’ wrong with that.”

Then why does it feel so guilty for you to admit— “Sometimes it feels selfish, to want things for myself.” You swallow, letting it sink into the air. You’ve never told anyone that before, not even your best friend or your parents.

“Sounds like someone really selfish made you feel that way.” He says gently and it’s like…wool has been taken off your eyes. Something you maybe knew but needed to hear.

It’s not what you expect him to say, not in the slightest, but it warms you from the inside out either way. You nod because yes, you’ve never thought about it like that but yes, that’s it exactly. Realizing that taking care of yourself is one of the best things you can do—knowing yourself and that you deserve to want, that it’s normal, even.

Austin hums softly, moving to slip off the car. You swing your legs around and when he offers you his hand, you take it to slide off as well.

How easy it would be to lean up and kiss him, how he’d probably taste like hints of chocolate and strawberry. You wait for him to let you go, for his hand to stop holding yours. But he doesn’t.

You lick your own lips, your eyes looking to his lower one, how it pouts out gently when he looks at you—and you decide to stop waiting for things you want. If you’re going to pay for his company, you might as well enjoy it.

You press your lips into his own, capturing something sweet, lips moving together like you both were always made to kiss. Austin’s one hand moves to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing your hair back around your ear before eventually pulling back. You’re breathing a little shakily, your noses brushing, Austin taking his time to trace your cheekbone with his lips before he opens up the car door for you.

“You’re not charging me extra for the gentleman treatment, are you?” Or for the kisses I keep stealing?

Austin smiles, a soft laugh leaving his throat as he waits for you to put your seatbelt on. “Not yet.” And closes the door with a wink.

--

You think about canceling six times between when you wake up on the day of the wedding to the moment you slide your dress over your head. You’ve told yourself that this was and continues to be a terrible idea and if you hadn’t paid him half up front through a cash app, you’d have the nerve to tell him never mind. Kisses and all, you really feel like you’re starting to lose your damn mind.

Though you know even if you told Austin to forget the whole thing, you still have to go to this wedding. (You could probably skip it no big deal, but the last thing you want is Todd to assume you’re bothered either). Canceling now would definitely mean going alone and you can’t stomach it, not when you feel like all of your insides are already in knots.

You smooth your hands down the front of your dress as you hear the doorbell, taking the steps downstairs carefully in your gold heels. You’ve settled for a navy-blue number that shows just enough cleavage and is ruffled at your middle, hugging curves and kissing your skin beautifully. You feel confident and comfortable, which is important for a long night.

You sigh, glancing at your front door for a moment before turning the knob and opening up to see Austin. He’s standing in a suit, beautifully polished, hair perfectly coifed on his head. A navy button-down underneath a gray suit jacket, tie to match with a red spidery design that reminds you of tree branches in the winter.

A crinkle appears between Austin’s eyebrows because, “Why are you shakin’ your head?” He asks as he steps over the threshold and you close the door.

“I just naturally assumed you were going to show up in black. Black in your profile picture that finally loaded, black at the bar… I thought that was the only shade you owned.”

He runs a hand lightly over his chest. “Grays in the same shade family.” He’s joking but you’re not laughing and finally he just throws his hands up a little, “What’s the big deal?”

“Because we match.”

Austin looks down at himself and pauses, doesn’t get it, gives you a look that makes you feel a little crazy. “That a bad thing?”

“It’s—” No, it’s not exactly a terrible idea but it somehow digs under your skin because you want today to be perfect and Austin is supposed to be your boyfriend and you can’t be that couple that goes all matchy-matchy to events, right?

What are the odds that he shows up in something that is the exact same color as your damn dress?

“It’s too perfect, it’s not believable.” You say and he raises his eyebrows because that does not make one lick of sense. He takes a step towards you and you mirror one back, shaking your head.

Austin lets out a slow breath because you’re nitpicking and it annoys him, a flare of impatience decorating his handsome face. “Well I don’t exactly got another suit in my back pocket and we’re already late.”

You narrows your eyes, “Just…follow me. I’ll change.”

You’re up the stairs and in your bedroom before you realize what you’ve said, Austin slipping in behind you and looking around the room, drinking you in with permission you’ve accidently given him. You turn suddenly and slip off your heels, pressing one hand to his chest to stop him.

“Don’t move.”

He smiles a little and nods his head, sticking his hands in his pockets as he watches you slide into your walk-in closet to change. You sigh softly and run a hand over your forehead before you take a moment to unzip your dress and glance at your options.

“A lot of beige.”

You roll your eyes and pull out a black dress, quickly pulling it on and kicking your navy blue one to the side before stepping out of your closet. You don’t bother to zip it up until you make sure it’s the right one.

Austin has dutifully not moved from the spot on the carpet where you’ve left him and he scrunches his nose at your dress, “You goin’ to a wake?”

“What’s wrong with beige?” You glance around your bedroom; at the little accents you’ve added that have color to them. Some shades of coffee colored brown and touches of teal here and there. It’s minimalist but tasteful.

“It’s just not what I pictured.”

“You pictured my bedroom?” You ask, but the corners of your mouth pull slightly as you put your hands on your hips.

Austin tilts his head at you, eyes traveling over your body in an unashamed way. “Maybe.” He pauses for a moment to let that sink into your pores. “You don’t seem like a beige. Also, no to that dress. I can maybe get you not wantin’ to match completely but that doesn’t line up with what I got on at all.”

You nod and turn to go back into your closet, pulling the dress off and standing far too long in your underwear trying to decide on a color range. You could go gold…but that feels too flashy, gray is out of the question and so is another navy dress so…

You finger red fabric for a moment that matches the scarlet on Austin’s tie and pull it off the hanger.

“I’m not actually that fond of beige,” You admit over your shoulder as you pull the dress up—it’s a fit and flare that kind of reminds you of the sixties. Something that hugs your waist with a high-neck tanked top and flares out like a wide flame at the bottom. It hits just below your knees and your gold heels will still go nicely with it.

“But the house kinda came this way and…I never took the time to fix it.” You walk out of the closet, pulling your hair free from underneath. “Todd didn’t like bold colors anyways.”

Austin’s eyes descend on you like a cold rush of water, a wave crashing down onto your shores. He stares for what feels like a long time, his hands coming out of his pockets like he wants to touch but can’t—too far away. You smile softly as his gaze sticks, he’s captivated by the dress, and you notice he has to shake his head as you approach to be able to speak to you.

“So I’m guessin’ he’s not gonna like this.” He reaches to touch your waist, fingers pressing warmly into the fabric.

You chew on the inside of your cheek a moment, looking up at him. “Do you like it?”

He smirks gently, pulling on your elbow to turn you around. He doesn’t reply but you feel suddenly naked under his gaze as your bare back is exposed to him. He takes his time finding the zipper and slowly draws it up into place, fixing the little hook at the top. His hands rest against your shoulders and guide down, squeezing your arms before letting you go.

“Get your shoes. We’re already late.”

You let out a long sigh that somehow turns into a pout, making him smile, “We could stay here, you could give more wisecracks about my bedroom decorum.”

Austin smirks and grabs your purse from where it’s seated on the bed as you slip your heels back on. “As amazing as that sounds, that’s not what you’re payin’ me for.”

And the words sound sour, swallowing them down, nodding your head as you leave the bedroom with him.

--

The wedding itself isn’t actually terrible—it’s beautiful in a way that would make any woman envious. Lots of flowers and gold designs and as you watch the entire ceremony take place, you have moments where you wonder why you’re here. Was it really that important for you to show up? And not only that, but pay a date to be here? You keep going back and forth, like a serious game of tug-of-war.

Why did it matter if you showed up alone? Or with Jill?

Austin helps you with your coat, his hand on your lower back as you walk out of the church and towards the reception hall which is being held in this beautiful botanical garden that has rooms you can rent for things like this.

People begin to pile into the building, pausing at the coat check before heading into the reception all, and it’s right there that you suddenly feel like bolting. Truth is? Todd was your boyfriend for years before your breakup (a breakup that might have never happened if you hadn’t realized he was cheating, because clearly he hadn’t taken the initiative until it was too late). And it’s probably so stupid that you remained friends with him, that you were invited to this wedding, that you for some reason care about what he thinks—even now.

But you do.

You should have just moved on and thrown the wedding invitation in the trash but…feelings don’t always come in black and white. You constantly live in a shade of gray.

And you’re worried someone is going to see right through you tonight.

Austin squeezes your hand, getting your attention as you remain grounded by the coat check. He’s patient, waiting until your gaze meets his own. “You’re shakin’.” His other hand covers the one he’s already holding.

You nod your head and offer a smile you don’t feel. “I thought this would be easy. Having you here as a distraction, smiling at all the right times and drinking too much wine in a nice dress,” You shrug your one shoulder, “It doesn’t change how I feel.”

Despite the small amount of privacy the coat check wall provides, you can feel eyes on you two from different parts of the room; people slipping past to get a glass of champagne from the cash bar, fluttering in-between hors d'oeuvres tables and congratulating the couple. Guests who know who you are, who are whispering about you. You can hear Todd a few feet away; big laughs and too loud discussions that tell you he’s a little drunk but genuinely happy.

Or maybe this is all in your head.

“Look, I think you were gonna feel this way no matter if you came alone or with someone.” He runs his thumb over your knuckles. “But you can still do all the other things you mentioned,” Austin leans in, brushes his lips over your cheekbone as he talks, “Drink too much wine in a beautiful dress and smilin’ definitely doesn’t hurt.”  

He pulls back and you lick your lips, wanting nothing more than to lean up and kiss him again. To feel his arms wrap around you and pull you close, back outside, to his car, away from this place where you feel like you have to be someone you’re not.

Austin grasps your chin between his pointer finger and thumb, waiting until your eyes meets his own again. He leans forward to brush your lips together, gently, more to distract you than anything else because it’s not a kiss.

“Women hire me because they want to feel wanted and if that’s what you need to hear, then fine, I do want you, Y/N.” You let out a breath that sounds too shaky for your own good, your knees slightly buckling. All the other gazes you once felt on you fade away, until it’s only you and Austin in an empty botanical garden.

“But hearin’ that doesn’t matter until you want things for yourself. You want someone to believe in you? You want to feel confident? Wanted?” His hand falls to your waist, “Good enough?”

You swallow thickly, his words reaching something that’s still raw inside of you, that still hurts to think about. You want to pull away, nearly do, but instead surrender to his weight against you. It’s not his fault that he does a better job of reading you than you do looking in a mirror.

“Then it has to come from you first.”

You shake your head as he pulls away, his hand very simply returning to yours as you both move towards the cash bar. “I know you think you know me from a few meetings and a detailed email request. But you don’t.” Your words at least sound stronger than you feel.

Austin looks at you over his shoulder and smiles but says nothing in return.

--

Maybe the problem is, he does know you, even from the simplest interactions. Maybe you’re just not used to being seen. Todd never saw you, even when you gave him so many chances to try. You suppose at that point you need to want to try.

You’re seated at a table that has mostly co-workers and friends and you attempt not to cringe when someone asks you how you know the bride and groom. Austin swoops in and responds that they’re friends, his arm stretched out over the back of your chair. You’re grateful because the words we dated are sitting in your throat like a lump, difficult to swallow over.

The night spins forward, you’re able to avoid the bride and groom for the duration of it, just enjoying food and a little bit too much wine and hanging out with Austin. There are long conversations where you get to know one another, fill one another in about things that are real, beyond the layers of this fake-date situation.

It’s nice, seeing him in that light, getting to know him as if you’d bumped into him at a bar and enjoyed his company.

You almost wish that was the case, instead.

His arm squeezes around your waist as you both dance on the dance floor, his jacket on the back of his chair, dress shirt rolled up to his elbows. You’re definitely a little tipsy, the room is rose-colored, but all in all? It feels like a crisis has been avoided, you’re actually having a good time.

“Can I get you another glass of wine?” Austin asks, brushing his lips over your forehead, “Maybe some cookies from the dessert table?”

You grin, “You know me so well.” And it’s not a line, somehow, you’ve been craving cookies for the past half hour.

Austin smiles, nods, squeezes your waist and leaves you to do just that. You somehow ache with missing the heat of his body once he’s gone—and that’s how you know you’re slightly in over your head. You have to keep reminding yourself that none of this is real—the way Austin talks to you or looks at you, the way his hands travel over your body, the slight brush of his lips against your own.

It's all a lie.

A lie that you paid for.

Running a hand over your forehead, you turn and nearly bump into someone, blinking as you look up and—

“Todd.”

Your ex smiles, “Hey—I’m so glad you came, I wasn’t sure if you would.”

Neither was I, “What can I say? I’m full of surprises.” Chewing on your lower lip, you’re struck with being unsure of what to say, scanning the crowd for Austin before clearing your throat, “Uhm, everything has been beautiful.”

Todd smiles, nodding, taking a look around for his bride. “Thank you. Are you uh, here with Jill?”

You open and close your mouth like a goldfish until you feel that familiar arm slide around you. “No this is Austin,” You take the glass of wine and have a hearty sip and it instantly makes your head spin.

Todd clears his throat and even though he’s smiling, it’s clear he’s giving Austin a once-over. He did not expect you to be here with someone. “I didn’t know you were bringing a friend that wasn’t Jill.” He kinda laughs, like maybe it’s a joke that you don’t have many other close friends other than her.

But Austin is quick to smile, “Actually, I’m her boyfriend.”

And there it is, the look on Todd’s face that you were after this whole time. It’s quick, gone almost as soon as it appears, but lingers in his eyes. Regret, maybe even jealousy. Even though his wife appears by his side and introductions are exchanged.

Luckily the conversation doesn’t last very long, the bride and groom are swept towards other people, more dancing. Which is good because you’re pretty sure you noticed that the bride couldn’t keep her eyes off of Austin.

What a couple her and Todd make.

Downing the rest of the wine, you set it on the table, letting out a slow breath. Austin keeps his hands firm on your hips and you can’t quite meet his eyes. You’re not quite sure how…this wasn’t what you expected, nor wanted.

Just feels like a big mistake.

“Wanna get out of here?” He asks quietly, seeming to read your mind.

You nod and he keeps his arm around you until you make it outside and reach his car.

--

That last glass of wine did you zero favors and by the time you make it to your front door, you’re dropping your keys instead of sliding them into the lock. Austin smiles a little, picking them up and unlocking everything, pushing the door open. You’ve got a firm hand on his shirt because you’re swaying slightly, almost a little afraid of what might happen if you let go.

What if all of this is one weird dream?

“Where are we going?” You ask as he comes inside, closing the door behind him.

“Water n’bed.” Austin replies as he guides you into the living room.

You scrunch your nose and look to the ceiling, definitely knocking yourself off balance as the room spins. Austin lets out a short grunt as he catches you, steadying you against his chest.

“In that order? That’s so boring.”

He chuckles slightly, guiding you both until he has you in front of the couch, encouraging you to sit. “You got somethin’ else you’d rather do?”

You can’t help but grin at the question, poking at his chest. “I think you know what I’d rather like to do.” It’s like hot lava pouring from your lips, you can’t seem to stop it even though you know you’ll have burns later.

Austin hums under his breath but doesn’t respond, concentrates instead on keeping you on the couch once you’re seated.

“Stay there,” He says when you try to get up, holding onto your shoulders and pressing you gently down. “You good or you gonna slip off?” There’s an amused smile pulling handsomely at his lips as he tilts his head down to look at you, slipping his thumb and forefinger along your chin.

“Good, I’m so good.” You nod, determined to give him responses that make sense. You just wish the room would stop spinning.

Only when he feels like you mean it does he pull away from you. You closes your eyes as your fingers grip the cushion, trying to hold yourself in place. None of this really helps and instead you just end up feeling nauseas, forcing your eyes to open so you can see Austin.

He’s taken his jacket off, tie gone and shirt unbuttoned a bit, and seeing his chest and forearms makes heat unwantedly pool between your legs and you lick your lips, trying to focus on what he has in his hands.

“He…he honestly didn’t think I’d be there with anyone.”

A crinkle appears between Austin’s eyebrows and he pauses, “What?”

You swallow, not sure if your trail of thought makes sense. “Todd. Jerk.” You give as an explanation.

Something passes over Austin’s face but it’s gone as soon as it appears and he crouches in front of you, his one hand slipping over your knee a moment, “Do you actually care what he thinks?”

You hold his gaze for a long moment before shaking your head. He hums softly, squeezing, his thumb between your thighs and it’s really too distracting.

“Then fuck him; neither of those two seemed like they should be giving relationship advice.”

You giggle something ridiculous and cover your face with your hand a moment, glad you were able to make sense of all that even though you probably didn’t need to bring it up.

“You got anythin’ like a long t-shirt?” He changes the subject as he makes a motion to go upstairs. “I don’t think I’m gonna be able to get pants on you.”

You huff out a sound and rub a hand over your face, most likely smearing makeup in the worst way. “That’s alright, I like bein’ pantless.” You reach over and is happy you don’t tumble, using one hand to hold onto his shoulder to get his attention. “Upstairs, first drawer on the right.”

He’s back and forth quickly; makes you wonder how long you’ve actually been sitting there.

Him undressing you is a blur; you note that he does his best to dip his gaze when he can to give you a little privacy. Just enough that you can figure out that your head doesn’t go into one of the arm holes and assists when you starts whining that you can’t get it right. You throw your wedding dress aside and kicks off your heels, letting out a soft huff when Austin disappears into the kitchen.

He comes back with a warm washcloth that smells like lilac soap and he waits until your gaze focuses on him before he asks whether you can do this yourself.

You nod a little absently, taking the washcloth from him and wiping your makeup off before handing it back to him. You pull as many bobbypins as you can find from your hair and toss them onto the coffee table, pulling your strands back up into a bun before collapsing face first into the couch.

You barely feel the couch dip as you smush your face into a pillow, blankets being draped over your shoulders.

--

When you wake up, you don’t automatically remember where you are.

You lift your head and groan softly, pinching your eyes with your thumb and forefinger trying to get the pounding to stop. There’s a soft blue light casting shadows on the walls of the living room and oh, that’s right, you’re home. Austin brought you home last night.

You swallow and nearly sit up too fast, leaning up on your elbows because oh, oh fuck, now you remember. A wave of nausea crashes down on you for moving and you flutter your eyes closed briefly and hope that helps. When you feels confident enough to fix your gaze on something other than the inside of your eyelids, you turn to look at Austin who’s sitting up in one of the lounge chairs nearby against a few pillows, watching TV.

He didn’t leave. He stayed with you the entire night.

The sound from the TV isn’t loud enough to be heard but you can tell he does this often, eyes on the screen, just absorbing the images that flicker to life. His head dips to look over at you when you move; he looks tired. You really hope he didn’t sit up to just…keep an eye on you, making sure you slept alright.

You clear your throat, the sound scratchy and dry regardless of your trying, “Am I dead?”

Austin smirks a little and stands to come and sit by your legs, handing you a glass of water that’s on the coffee table. “Here. You passed out before I could get you to drink any.”

You sigh softly and close your eyes, moving to sit up further and is glad to see the room isn’t spinning anymore. “Lovely.” You drink deeply after a few tentative sips to make sure you can keep it down.

“You stayed.”

“I did.” Austin’s quiet for a few moments, playing with the corners of one of the blankets. Clearly he’s not going to elaborate. “You got a headache?”

You hum an affirmative response but it’s nothing water and Advil can’t cure. You lean your head back against the headboard, closing your eyes again for a few moments to avoid the blue light spilling into the room from the TV. You give yourself some time to sip your water before you open them again, setting the glass down on the table. There’s cookies there too, from last night. Austin kept them.

You sense embarrassment licking at your nerve endings, feeling a little ridiculous for your behavior. You should really know better than to let yourself go like that, especially since it doesn’t take too many glasses of wine in a row for it to happen.

“Sober?” He asks and there’s a tilt to his voice that you don’t like, far too amused.

You groan and turn your head to look at him, trying to muster up a glare that doesn’t stick. “Unfortunately.” You rake your fingers through your hair, trying to not even think about what you might look like.

You’re just glad you didn’t vomit.

A deep breath settles in and out of your lungs before you turn your head to look at Austin, the light of the TV casting beautiful shadows on his face. Your eyes skitter over the scruff beginning on his jawline and your fingers itch to follow. You clear your throat, getting his attention, and he turns his head to look at you.

“I’m sorry for getting plastered.” You smile a little because he does; that same amusement back on his face, though it doesn’t bother you this time around. “I’m shocked that you do weddings.”

You allow yourself to laugh a little, shaking your head like it’ll somehow clear the fuzzy memories of him bringing you back to your home, tripping over yourself. You regret the way you’ve carried yourself, but a tiny part of you is glad you decided to let yourself go, to enjoy the open bar and let your emotions run a little rampant for once.

You’re so used to keeping everything inside, to holding it all in. For once you didn’t.

Austin’s chewing on words he’s not saying, you can see the hesitance in his expression, wanting to say something but unsure if he should. You wait, don’t press, and eventually,

“Admittedly, I haven’t done a wedding in a while.” He shakes his head, “Because they tend to be messy in a way that I never expect.”

You wince, rubbing the back of your neck because…clearly you hadn’t planned on making a fool out of yourself but Austin quickly continues to explain,

“I don’t mean you.” He turns a bit to lean against the couch, his shoulder pressed along the cushions. Austin licks his lips, his eyes tracing your jawline and lips, slipping down your neck and collarbone enough to make you shiver.

“In your request, you said somethin’ like, ‘I don’t want my ex  to feel like he’s taken something from me. Something that’s mine and will always be mine’.”

You search his eyes for a moment and when his finally meet yours, something warm and aching starts in your chest, blooming outward like a flower only meant to grow at night. You swallow thickly, “You remember that?” Because you kinda…bared you soul in that request for a date service. You hadn’t meant to come across so desperate but…you were also just being honest.

“I have a very good memory,” He attempts to wave this off, and you want to tell him not to—that what he’s saying matters. Austin’s seeing you, over walls you didn’t realize you had up after all this time.

“You said kind of implied that you wanted Todd to regret cheating on you, but I think you really meant that you wanted him to see that he didn’t break you.” He licks his lips and trails his pinky finger along your jawline as he curls loose hair behind your ear. “I’ve met a lot of women in similar situations, and not all of them have handled it like you.”

A laugh slips out of your throat, something you can’t stop. You’re trying to break the tension gathering in the room, something heavy and thick like warm cotton settling over both of you. Handled it? You haven’t exactly done that well, have you? If last night is any indication.

“What, they didn’t hire a male escort and get piss drunk?”

He smiles gently, shaking his head. “They let their exes break them because they couldn’t figure out who they were without them.”

The warmth in your chest threatens to burst and you wish for a moment that you could see yourself the way Austin does, so clearly, like everything is laid out before him, all he has to do is read.

“But not you.” It barely leaves his mouth before you close the distance between them.

The heat erupts in a single kiss, both of Austin’s hands tangling themselves in your hair, pulling it loose from your haphazard bun. He kisses you like you’ve always wanted to be kissed, even though you hadn’t realized it was something that was missing until now.

He inches you forward, forcing you to move until you’re straddling his waist, blankets getting caught and tangled in-between. Anything that’s been building up suddenly releases into you both, like a wave crashing, heated breaths against skin and not being able to get close enough. Austin tugs off your long t-shirt and a shiver travels down your skin as you reach up and automatically unclasp your bra.

You sit there for a moment, almost in the wake of realizing what you’ve done, and you watch Austin’s gaze. His eyes drink you in, hands still on your waist, trailing up your sides, thumb slipping underneath one of your breasts to press against your ribcage. The touch is intimate enough to cause something sharp in your throat, thick swallowing for it to disappear. You lean forward, presses your foreheads together and you kiss again.

You’re fumbling to get blankets down, to move everything out of your way and Austin flips your positions, easing you down onto your back along the cushions. He rifles for something in his suit jacket that’s nearby while you slip your hips up to slide your underwear down and off and away. He’s got too many layers on and you itch to immediately remove his shirt when he’s overtop of you again.

Toned skin greets you and you can’t help but touch, sink your fingers in, drag your nails. The noises that leave Austin’s throat are enough to single handedly build the heat beginning in your lower belly, something you don’t think you ever want to stop hearing. He moves only long enough to take his pants off, tossing them to the side, and he holds your gaze—

He waits.

You swallow and know this is such a bad idea, that nothing good can come from this. But wasn’t it Austin who urged you to figure out what you want? You want to feel confident? Wanted? Good enough?

Then it has to come from you first.

There’s a half-nod in Austin’s direction before he’s slipping a hand down between you, to put a condom on but also—

You moan, rolling your hips as you feel his fingers slide against you, inside of you. He teases, rolls flesh between his thumb and forefinger, lips falling to your neck to leave kisses that eventually find your mouth again.

He takes his time even though you wish he wouldn’t, building you up and letting you down easy before pressing inside. You gasp and your back arches, hips rolling forward, Austin leaning down to capture your mouth again, to absorb your sounds. You wrap your legs around him, which makes moving a little difficult, but you don’t want him to move too far away, want to constantly feel him—keep you both connected.

Austin nips at your lower lip with his own, not taking you long to build up what you’ve started. Pleasure circles in your veins, pulling you towards an end that you doesn’t want to reach yet. He doesn’t stop, keeps moving his hips forward at a quickening pace and you dig your nails into his back.

You barely have time to warn him before you’re cumming, though because your bodies are molded together, you think he already knows—probably knew before you did. He grunts as he loses himself in you, his face falling to your neck, gentle panting and lazy kissing.

You tilt your head back so your throat is exposed, your hands slipping down his back and settling on his waist, his skin a little slick to the touch. He lays there for a long few moments and you take one another in, his chest pressing into your own as you both breathe.

He pulls back too soon for your liking, but you don’t have the energy to tell him to stop. Austin cleans himself up, slipping onto the couch again, this time behind you, and pulls you close. You turn on your side, blankets coming up over your shoulder as you puzzle-piece both of you together, your face hiding in his neck, already falling asleep.

Austin says nothing, which is fine with you, he doesn’t need to say anything. His lips find your shoulder, a few kisses here and there, hands intertwining in your hair.

You finally figure out what you want—

and you want this. You want him.

--

You wake up before Austin does, pulling yourself from the couch and disappearing into the bathroom near the kitchen. Looking at yourself in the mirror, you kinda shake your head before drawing up Jill’s text messages on your phone.

Y/N: I think I messed up.

You wash your face and feel a little more human, sitting down on the closed toilet seat as she pings you back.

Jill: oh no, what happened? Jill: please tell me Austin didn’t turn out to be a serial killer

You laugh, your hand covering your mouth. Jesus. A small, hysterical part of you wonders if that’d be easier to deal with.

Y/N: the wedding went fine, he brought me back home, stayed the night Y/N: may or may not have had sex with him on my couch this morning??

Jill instantly tries to call you and you press the red button—you can’t talk to her when he’s still here.

Y/N: I can’t, he’s still here

Jill: !!!!!! Jill: girl omg— Jill: how was it? 😉

Running a hand over your face, you wonder if you should have ever said anything. Then again, there’s this small smile tugging the corners of your mouth. In general, you know that there’s nothing wrong with what you’ve done—both of you are consenting adults. But then there’s this whole other layer of…paying him to be your date. It’s not like you paid him for sex or anything but…

You kinda can’t help but wonder how many jobs he takes that end up like this.

Y/N: it was perfect but that’s not the point

Jill: so what is the point?

You sigh softly, tapping on your cash app and just…wondering. So many insecurities and questions and wonderings wrapping around you like a blanket, except it’s far too tight, suffocating almost. Taking in a breath, you set your phone down on the counter, looking up when there’s a knock on the bathroom door.

“Y/N?” Austin asks, “You alright?”

Reaching over to grasp the knob, you open the door with a soft smile, “Yeah.”

Austin looks ridiculously adorable slept on. His hair is slightly askew, skin looking warm, a soft, tired look in his eyes. God, you can’t believe he’s been here for so long in these wedding clothes, back in his slacks and a white undershirt.

“I uh,” He clears his throat, “M’gonna head home. Shower, change. But…”

You lick your lips, your stomach flip-flopping with eagerness.

“I was thinkin’ I could come back later; we could talk?”

God, talking sounds like such a great idea. Not to mention you could shower too, put yourself together, feel more like someone capable of having a serious conversation. So you nod with a soft smile—that sounds perfect.

And then—

You can pinpoint the exact moment that Austin glances to the sink and sees the cash app open because his expression changes, like a shadow passing over but instead of dissipating—it stays, darkening the color of his eyes. A breath catches in your throat as you straighten your shoulders, words on your lips and stuck on your tongue. Nothing comes out.

His gaze flickers up from the phone to your eyes and what you see there is like a cold bucket of ice water, anger but…deeper, it’s—

“Not what it looks like.” You finally say, breaking the tension into pieces with a hammer.

Austin hums, nodding his head and licking his lips. He’s trying very hard to speak without sounding annoyed, “What’s it like then?” He asks, the words daggered. “Cause it looks like you were about to pay me for services rendered.”

You shake your head and stand from the toilet on wobbly knees. Austin takes a step back from you, almost like a caged animal, getting ready to bolt. And then you realize, right, he’s not angry, he’s hurt.

“No—”

“Don’t lie to me,” He grounds out, the words chewed on between his teeth.

A shuddered noise leaves your lips because you can tell you’re losing it, this conversation slipping like sand between your fingers. He’s not going to be willing to listen to you if you confirm he’s right, that you had thought about it—if you admit you weren’t sure what you were doing or what sleeping together meant.

You distantly know that this isn’t going to end well, no matter what you say. Austin tore his walls down in front of you, exposed himself, and now he looks like a fool for doing it. Even if it’s on accident, you’ve hurt him, and you’re not sure if you’ll be able to backpedal without looking guilty.

“I thought about it,” You admit after a moment. “I wasn’t…” The last thing you wanted to do was make him feel cheap; you know that this thing started as a transaction but also that something changed last night.

“Nah, it’s good. You were payin’ me to do a job, right?” Austin turns to walk back to the living room, gather up his things. And it’s like…you have no idea what you can possibly say, how you can stop him.

Your legs carry you forward, “Austin, don’t.” You sigh and puts a hand on your lips, suddenly feeling nauseas as he moves too quick for you to stop him.

“Business is business. You can stop feelin’ so guilty,” He straightens his shoulders before grabbing his jacket, slipping it on. Metaphorically it feels like a shield, another layer he’s building back up between them both, shutting you out.

He can’t possibly leave like this, right?

You’re practically stumbling over your own feet as he makes it to the front door, “Please don’t walk away.”

His hand pauses on the doorknob, just for a moment, like he might actually be considering your words. But then he yanks the door open and slams it shut once he’s outside.

You don’t go after him.

--

Time goes on.

You expect that Austin might reach out to you—to apologize, to start over, or maybe even request the unfulfilled payment that he was supposed to receive after the wedding date. But nothing, it’s radio silent…and you think that’s worse.

You want to reach out to him on your own, but you’re not even sure where to begin. How to apologize for thoughts that are incomplete in your head. How to express emotions that are sitting at the bottom of your ribcage.

You’re just hoping for a chance to apologize and explain yourself, even though you’re not entirely sure you deserve it. Is this really it? Going back to business as usual and pretend they never met one another?

You sigh as you hear a few knocks on your door and hate how it feels like hope, quickly moving from your kitchen to tug it open and see Jill on the other side. You give her a small smile, letting her inside,

“I got your twenty texts, you alright?”

You run a hand over your forehead and shake your head, moving towards the kitchen for Jill to follow. You offer her a cup of coffee, sitting back at the counter with your own. Wrapping your hands around the ceramic, you glance up at your friend,

“I screwed up.”

Jill sighs softly, grabbing a cup for the coffee because clearly, she’s going to need it. “Tell me what happened; your texts were all hysteria and no detail.”

You map out the whole thing from start to finish, the chapel, the reception, the night of, the morning after—your voice drops on intimate details, like somehow you have to keep them exactly that. Intimate.

“Damn, Y/N.”

You pinch the bridge of your nose, “I know…it was an accident.” You swallow. “The money part, anyways.”

She adds a few spoonfuls of sugar to her mug, stirring. “Does tall, blonde and brooding know that?”

You let your hand fall from your face, eyes focusing out the window above the sink at the city sounds and sights. Suddenly a dark blue gaze rekindles in your memory, the hurt there, wounded and refusing to let you past his boundaries again.

“I tried to tell him; he wouldn’t listen.”

Jill hums under her breath a moment and shuffles, “Maybe give him some time? Try him tomorrow.”

Easier said than done, “I don’t even know where he lives. He’s not going to pick up the phone if I try to call him; texts are useless.”

Your friend’s quiet for a few moments, considering—and then a sound leaves her lips and you picture a lightbulb going off on her facial expression. “But you know where he works.”

--

You stand outside the café that Austin works at for what feels like a long time, staring at the sign and pacing back and forth to your car parked down the street. You really hope no one is watching you because you probably looks crazy; you feel crazy. You can’t just approach this man where he works, can you? You don’t even know if he’s working today.

But it’s…worth a try, right? Like one last shot before you just drop it.

You’re not sure that if the situations were reversed, he’d show up at your front door, so. Or maybe you’re just hoping he would.

So after spending ten minutes contemplating what to do, you finally force yourself to walk up the café door and make your way inside. It’s a hole in the wall but filled to the brim with people at tiny circular tables, waiting in line to place their order with a beautiful blonde cashier and satisfied customers adding sugar and creamer to their coffees at a station to your left.

The heady scent of fresh coffee and baked goods slam into you like a truck, leaving you almost breathless. This place blends in when it should stick out—she wonders if you didn’t know Austin if you’d come in to order an iced coffee just walking by on the street.

Your eyes graze behind the counter until you finally spot him further down, filling baked goods trays in a window that were once empty. A ton of questions hit you at once; did he make those baked goods that are at his fingertips? How does he separate the time between the café and the stand-in job? What are you going to say to him?

Before you can fully approach him, Austin glances up—and spots you.

He’s not happy to see you but he doesn’t look as pissed off as the last time you saw him, so, you consider that progress. You swallow as you walk towards the counter and your hand settles on the top of the glass, the lights above the pastries warming your palm.

“Hi.” That’s it? That’s all you can say? This conversation is going to be just as painful as the last one.

Austin doesn’t have a chance to open his mouth because another worker, a blonde girl, rushes to the counter because she must be on register, “Hi,” She smiles, bright, “We have orange scones on sale today. What can I get you?”

You smile gently at her, glancing at Austin and wondering if he’s going to step in or just…continue not saying anything to you. You suppose you don’t blame him.

“I’ll uhm, take a hazelnut latte and one of those scones,” You nod, reaching for your wallet in your purse, “Thank you.”

“I got the rest of this, Chloe,” Austin steps in as you stick your card into the reader. “Thanks.” He watches her go before turning his attention back to you, customers passing by and receiving orders that he’s already packed at the end of the counter. He hands over your receipt.

“You stalkin’ me now?” He asks but he’s not amused, drumming his fingers on top of the counter.

You let out a slow breath and he moves to fill your order, working the espresso machine with practiced ease, “You won’t text me back.”

“Maybe that’s cause I didn’t wanna talk to you,” He says pointedly before motioning towards your right, “You skipped the line.”

“I didn’t want to order anything, I just wanted to talk.”

He smirks but it doesn’t quite meet his eyes and he grabs an orange scone, wrapping it in a napkin. “Look at you, really learned how to be honest about what you want.”

“You taught me how.” You insist, trying to catch his gaze. When you finally do, you hold it there, trying to will him to listen to you—because you’re not grasping at straws, meeting him, spending time with him…being with him really taught you about parts of yourself that were missing.

Or maybe not missing, exactly, but lying dormant.

“I just want five minutes of your time, please, then I’ll leave you won’t hear from me again.”

Austin lets out a long patient sigh with a shake of his head, something between aggravation mixed with a touch of being impressed—you’re persistent, at least. He’s going to hear you out and suddenly all the words mix in a blender and sink to the bottom of your ribs; you’re almost unsure of how to put this but all you can do is try.

“You’ve been right since we first met; I didn’t know how to want things for myself even though I expected so much out of other people.”

You chew on your lower lip a moment, eyes tracing over the handsome lines of his face—now was not the time to get distracted.

“This whole thing caught me off guard, I wasn’t prepared to want you…and not just as my stand-in date, but you.”

He doesn’t hold your gaze and maybe that’s okay, he busies himself with getting other people orders, keeping the line moving but you can tell he’s still listening to you. He’s still intent on hearing you through…even though you’re almost certain it’s not going to make a difference.

You can tell by his expression, by those walls remaining firm; they’re not budging for you.

Not again.

“The money thing was a mistake. You were right, I did open up my app and think about it because I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t know what this thing was or if I was…imaging how I felt. So I fucked up but…so did you for not sticking around and talking to me.”

Austin’s shoulders straighten; he doesn’t appreciate you calling him out. A rod appears up his spine, his posture almost towering despite the glass case between them.

“I just…that’s it,” You swallow, your thumb running over the scone in your one hand and picking up your finished latte with another. “That’s all I wanted to say. Sorry for disrupting your work.”

You turn quickly, can’t take the look in his eyes anymore, the bustle of other people around you. You’ve said what you needed to—you should feel more complete than before, right? Because at least he knows your side of things.

It’s his turn.

You push the door open, the welcome bell dinging after you as you leave.

He doesn’t come after you.

--

You try to shake your head as Jill orders another shot, but can’t quite stop her because the woman has a mind of her own when it comes to having a good time.

“No,” You crinkle your nose.

Jill laughs, “Oh come on—one more. You’re not calling it early already, are you? We can get fries after this.”

You sigh, a bit dramatically, but how can you turn down fries? “Fine.” You shake your head, running a hand over your face as you sit at the counter of your frequent bar, “I’ll be back though.”

You slide off the barstool, motioning she should save your seat as you put your purse on it. She grins, cups your cheeks with her hands and plants a kiss on your forehead. You shoo her off, moving through the crowd to the restroom. Once you’ve used the bathroom and spend a little time with a cold and wet paper towel to the back of your neck, you come back out and nearly run someone over—

And blink because—

“Austin.”

It’s been a few months since you’ve seen him but fuck, he looks just as amazing as he did when you tried to explain yourself in the café. Wearing a pair of dark blue jeans, boots and a white button down, he’s got a leather jacket on as well, just a bit more scruff to his face.

“I was wonderin’ if you were gonna be here.” But it’s…contemplative, thoughtful, like he might have actually planned on trying to find you in the bar where you met.

You feel like the world might be spinning off its axis. “Here I am.”

He smiles a little, glancing over his shoulder and fuck, you wonder if he’s here with someone and—you’re pleasantly surprised that it doesn’t cause some adverse reaction. No punch in your gut that you completely screwed everything up. Time, it seems, does heal some wounds.

Maybe not heal, scar at the very least.

“I saw you post somethin’ on your instastory and I was…well I was hopin’…” He kinda trails off and two thoughts slam into your body like a freight train. One, he sounds…nervous? Which you feel like is very unlike him, given what you’ve been through together. And second? It actually sounds like he knew you were here and he meant to find you on purpose.

“Can we talk?” He asks, “Maybe outside?”

“Yes,” And god, you hope you don’t say that too fast. “Fresh air sounds good.”

As you begin to walk outside with him, you text Jill letting her know where you’re going (and with who). She sends you exactly three text messages in response that you don’t dare look at.

You take in a deep breath in once you get outside, the cool air settling over you like a bucket of cold water. You almost wish you grabbed your jacket from the bar but…dragging Austin over there towards Jill would have been such a bad idea.

It’s fine—the air is refreshing, a bit sobering and this conversation probably won’t last long either way. Taking in a breath, you turn to look at him, a soft smile on your face as you wrap your arms around yourself.

“So…”

Austin clears his throat, “You uh—?” He motions to his jacket and you’re not quite strong enough to deny his offer, so you gently nod your head. Austin slips off his leather jacket and hands it to you and you put it on.

A soft noise of approval leaves your lips as your arms go through the sleeves, a little bit long, feeling perfect though when you zip it up. The lingering scent of his cologne and skin is enough to almost knock you on your knees.

“Thank you.” You whisper, curling your hair around your ear.

You know that Austin is gathering his thoughts, but waiting almost somehow feels worse. You’re just…not sure what to do with yourself other than stare at him, hands stuffed in the pockets of his leather jacket.

“I shouldn’t have left you like that,” He finally says, “At your place?” It’s like the tension start to unwind from your shoulder at that, you almost have to physically swallow over your words so you can let him speak. “Just…felt like what we did, it was real—and—”

“It was real,” You assure him, can’t allow him to think otherwise, “I know this is going to sound cliché but…opening that cash app had everything to do with me, not you. I wasn’t second-guessing what happened.”

Austin gently waves you off, “It’s not your fault, I—I’m so used to things bein’ a business transaction that I just jumped to conclusions.”

You give him a small smile and it feels good? to be on the same page after all this time but…it’s not like, “It’s okay,” You curl your hair around your ear, “I’m not sure where something like this could go. I wouldn’t ask you to quit a job that’s clearly lucrative.”

Austin nods softly, “Well you don’t have to, because I already have.”

You’re not sure why what he says doesn’t register right away, you’re kinda just staring at him, wrapped up in his leather jacket, people passing you both on the sidewalk as you stand outside this bar.

Then you blink, “What?”

He smirks, running a hand through his hair as he nods, “Yeah, I uh—just didn’t want to do it anymore.”

You feel like your brain might be short circuiting, “But about acting? What about L.A.?”

A soft laugh rumbles in his throat, “I can still do L.A. Bein’ an actor isn’t goin’ anywhere.”

And you know that he still has a café job, that he can find other jobs to satisfy what he wants in terms of collecting money but…somehow you’re worried he’s traded one thing in for another. Even though Austin doesn’t look like he has any regrets as he takes a step towards you. His hands gently rest on your arms, sliding down, like he’s waiting for you to push him away.

When you don’t—

“You're not the only one goin' after what they want.”

You can’t stop a small laugh from slipping from your lips and before you can talk yourself out of it, you press yourself up on your toes and kiss him. His arms wrap around you automatically, drawing you closer, his one hand cupping the back of your neck.

It feels like you’re kissing for a long time, or maybe it’s just felt too long since you’ve kissed. Either way, pulling away makes you feel a bit breathless and Austin smiles, pressing your foreheads together for a moment.

It feels like starting over, or maybe even better, a new chapter.

[thewitchblue]

Recluse, Part Two: The Society

You woke up on a medical cott in a cave. You tried to remember how you got there or what happened. This didn't look like the medical unit at the Society HQ. You looked around and noticed the location you are in.

With a groan, you started to sit up only to realise you couldn't. You had metal pinning you down. You heard Venom growl,

"These assholes are dead when you tear off this metal pinning you."

You pursed your lips. First, you needed to find something to use as an escape. Unfortunately, the part of the cave you were put in seemed to be mostly empty. Nothing within grasp or range of your webs.

At least you still had your teleportation methods to escape. You asked for your device to look like a ring. Boring, unassuming. It was designed to look cheap, but it was the most complex device that you made.

You sighed as you took a look around. Nobody was around, thankfully, but you needed an escape route.

What the fuck did the Batfam do to you while you were unconscious? Where are you? It doesn't matter. You can teleport back home and someone will be there to fix the sedative and send antidotes to add to the database.

You stretched, which ripped the metal cuffs on your limbs easily. You sat up and began tugging at the metal around your midsection, but you found it wasn't as easy to break.

You tugged at the lock that's in place with a frown. It was melded together, crudely, at that. It seemed like the welder panicked when they melded the metal together. You remember vaguely waking up to see blurred figures standing over you with a disapproving gentleman in the background, who was incredibly disappointed in your captors. You sighed. Maybe you could portal the medical cott to escape, if the metal wouldn't budge.

"How are you feeling?"

You heard a voice asked. Your eyes snapped to see a child in front of you. His expression was hard, but his eyes seemed almost soft. You could feel more than one pair of eyes, so you sarcastically replied,

"Like your chicken friend just hit me with a train."

You picked up the pattern. You'd be stupid not to. The dark, dingy cave would only fit Batman and this is his little sidekick. You do a bit of research for each universe before going to the universe so you are prepared for whatever. They are his patchwork family. You could see it all so clearly because you have that patchwork family. You watched all your actual family members die, but the Society became your family. You hijacked Miles's family when you are in his universe. You became a "distant cousin from a different country" when you are with Miles's family.

"I'm sorry. Drake tripped."

You rolled your eyes at the weak excuse. With an uncapped needle in his hand? Unlikely. However, now that you had someone close... maybe you could use Robin to your advantage. Your eyes scanned his suit before landing on his utility belt. An idea, a hope, began to form.

You quickly webbed Robin's utility belt and pulled it to you. The belt clicked off his waist at your tug, and you thanked the universe for not ripping the cloth.

There's surely something in the belt to aid your escape. You grinned when you found a means to escape. A small bomb that you recognise was graverobbed off Harry'suitcases corpse. Finally success!

You strapped the bomb to your welded metal. Thankfully, there was no release latch on this type of bomb so there was nothing Robin could do about it. Robin's eyes widened, but he had no choice but to flee. You used a smoke bomb just as the bomb exploded.

You stumbled in pain as bits of metal flew across the room. Yeah, you definitely broke your hips and likely had some metal embedded in you. Whatever. It will all heal in time. You needed to get home.

You used your ring just in time for Robin to tackle you into the portal.

You quickly shut the portal before more followed. You squirmed under his iron grasp while you fall on the cold hardwood floor of the HQ. Pain rams through you as your hips slam to the floor. Robin's grasp was the only thing grounding you to consciousness, so you draw him closer in your arms. Your arms were weakened, so you couldn't fight nearly as hard as you could when someone took Robin away.

You vaguely heard Miguel screaming at you and watch Robin get taken away, overwhelmed by the sheer number of spider people surrounding him and ready to take on a 12 year old boy.

"Miguel, I think they are hurt."

You don't see who spoke, but you nodded and gestured to your lower body before collapsing. Your bones felt like they were vibrating and your muscles felt like liquorice when it was being pulled.

Miguel cursed loudly but gently picked you up and carried you to medbay, where Robin was getting checked for injuries as well. He was put on soft restraints, likely because of him fighting to return to your side, but you barely noticed.

The doctors and nurses cursed when they saw you and ran. If you were more lucid, you'd see the guilty look on Robin's face. Unfortunately for him, all his trackers in his utility belt items were destroyed by the bomb and damaged beyond repair.

"You are so fucking lucky you have an insane healing factor. You would have died!"

One of the doctor's scolded at you. Your hearing was coming back and your bones, now set, were healing perfectly fine. You scoff. With folded arms, you bitterly reply,

"I'd rather die than be a prisoner."

The staff all quieted at that. They knew you were imprisoned at your home universe, but they don't know the extent of the torture. Only Miguel knew and he's been particularly protective ever since he discovered you.

"I'm sorry. We were worried sick. Miguel, especially. He wanted to go out to get you, but your trackers were disabled. We feared the worst."

You nodded with a sigh. You felt a rib snap into place as the action and cursed loudly in Spanish.

You should have known to do that fight while invisible. You could have. You didn't have to expose yourself, but you felt like goblin would have done more damage to civilians if you were invisible. He needed a target to focus his energy on, and you were happy to be that target if it meant the civilians (and the heroes) were safer.

"You are never going back to that universe."

Miguel said coldly. His red eyes lingered on you as his eyes scanned your already healed body and then counted the metal shards removed from your body. Over one hundred shards were removed. You immediately countered while gesturing to Damian,

"I can't just kidnap a child! I have to bring him back."

Miguel borderline growled,

"Then we'll get someone else to bring him back. You are staying here."

You sighed. You knew he'd be pissed, but you weren't prepared for his calm anger. He's normally the explosive type, but he's deadly calm this time. This was a command, not a request or a demand.

"You can't keep me locked here! I have to go back and right my wrongs. Who would I be if I didn't at least return the child?"

He hissed as he approached,

"A smart one! You are banned from that universe. I will be altering your device to remove that universe."

You pursed your lips. You had to right your wrongs. At all cost.

"I'm bringing him back. I don't have to interact with anyone, just throw him back to the universe."

Miguel shook his head. He should have expected you to be the noble one and return the child personally. He said sternly,

"If you must go, I'm going with you and you are bringing your webs."

You bit your lip but relented. At least you'd be returning the child.

"And I'm implanting more trackers and embedding your ring to your finger. We're engaged. You can't just walk away like that and not expect me to panic."

A doctor pipped up with a nervous chuckle,

"It's true. It was like trying to calm down a tiger. It was impossible until you stumbled in."

You huffed an amused laugh and kissed his hand.

"I'm safe, corazón mío (my heart)."

He nodded but bit his lip with his fangs. You could see the anxiety in his still cooling red eyes.

"Lo siento (I'm sorry). I... I can't lose you. Me destruiría. (It would destroy me)."

You smiled softly at him as you took his hand. You love him deeply. You asked,

"What are we going to do with the child in the meantime? We can't imprison him with the rest of the anomalies."

Miguel said a bit playfully,

"We can always keep him as our kid."

You know he was only half-joking. He wants a kid with you, and Damian's the perfect candidate. You have to keep the child close either way. You eyed the boy strapped to the bed next to you. You considered it for a moment before you admitted,

"I don't want him to be cursed like us."

Miguel sighed, but the child seemed to perk up. He seemed to like the idea of you becoming his family and who was Miguel to deny you?

"I can handle myself in a fight, alwalid."

He was already calling you his parent. Your gaze softened as you walk to his bedside. You took his hand in yours and asked,

"You want to be with us? What about your father?"

He shrugged as best he could while trapped. You eyed the restraints before your gaze turned back to Damian. He said plainly,

"I lived without him before. I can live without him now."

You frowned and looked at Miguel, who also shrugged. He seemed to have a long conversation with you through just a look before finally saying,

"It's your call. We always wanted children, but I'll admit I'm worried about the history."

You sighed and turned your attention back to the little Robin. You carefully undo his restraints and eyed him warily for a moment. You knew you could take him in. You have the space at home and the perfect partner to aid you. Miguel says,

"If we adopt you, we have to do it by the book. We can't just kidnap you. Your dad will tear the multiverse apart to find you again."

Damian nodded. He's fine with that. He loved your strength and your resolve. Your sense of moral seemed strong, even if you are young and faced many tragedies. You nodded your agreement while softly smiling. You already were growing to love the child, but it's hard to tell if it's because of your strong desire for children or because of this child specifically. After all these years of wanting a child, one falls right into your lap. Damian tugged on your shirt lightly to get your attention.

"Alwalid, it might go better if only you go. He might find Miguel... hostile. The fangs and red eyes would make him falter in his decision for you to adopt me."

Miguel looked like he wanted to fight the claim but you gave Miguel a stern look and draw Damian into your arms.

"If you want this child, you have to let me go this one time."

Miguel looked Damian over, and Damian tried to look demure and loveable. After a long pause and another conversional look between you both, Miguel nodded.

"If you don't come back by tomorrow, estoy arrastrando tu culo de vuelta auqí por tus tobillos. (I'm dragging your ass back here by your ankles)."

You flashed a grin and nodded. You gave him a quick kiss and said,

"Te amo, mi corazón (I love you, my heart). I'll come back!"

Miguel grumbled but allowed you to enter the portal back to Damian's universe after a long kiss Damian had to look away from with a disgusted face.

Miguel didn't like the way Damian smirked as you entered the portal. Miguel shot Miles a quick text about it. It's his universe, after all. Maybe his spider sense is paranoid, or maybe his worry isn't unfounded.

[rentumblsstuff]

Random Hatchetfield Headcanons

The first time Alice Woodward ever smoked weed was when (after much inner turmoil) she asked Deb to shotgun it with her.

Max has two snaggletoothed incisors which is why people swear to god he has fangs.

Deb also has a snaggletooth which is what inspired the vampire part of Alice’s vampiric sapphic play. Alice also thinks it’s ironic she made a vampire character when Deb is a vegan.

Ruth as a Sophmore hit on Senior Alice a lot. Alice thought it was funny and she and Deb “adopted” her. Max and Steph also put the PANIC in bi panic for Ruth.

Max would find it weirdly hot that Grace wears bathing suits under her clothes because of the idea that he gets to see what her body looks like before even she does.

The hospital is downtown, so Becky Barnes definitely got infected in TGWDLM. Despite never wanting to do it again, Becky climbs the tree as someone calls the HFPD to save Kathy’s cat because she’s still infinitely compassionate even under Pokey’s control. Plus, Pokey knows she wants to get over the trauma associated with climbing trees, so he makes her do it to give her a big number about finally overcoming her past. She accidentally flings the cat as soon as the song starts, which is why in Show Me Your Hands, the cat dies so quickly even though it JUST got called in.

Peter infected Steph who infected Deb who infected Alice in TGWDLM. Pete and Steph would have been Sophomores and Deb and Alice were Seniors, but I always imagine Steph and Deb knowing eachother because MRFC said Steph is in the Smoke Club on Twitter at some point. Assuming Steph’s been a little punk for a while, she’s been in the smoke club since at least Sophomore year, and probably a new inductee the same year as TGWDLM (2018).

Alice and one of her parents (maybe Bill) were also raised in purity culture because we know the Woodwards and the Chastitys go to the same church. The Woodwards probably take it with a grain of salt though (Alice has expressed dislike over Grace’s prudishness)- either that or one of her parents (probably her mom) wasn’t originally from said church and also raised Alice with “this is what you’re learning here, but here’s also what I learned at my church at your age.” Bill was likely the one raised in purity culture because he does NOT LIKE DEB and thinks that if she HAS TO date a girl, she should date someone like Grace Chastity, implying she’s an exemplary teen girl. Ms. Woodward lets Deb sleep over and probably knows she smokes and likes her anyways; three points for Alice’s mom not being the puritanical one.

Ted reads romance novels. He’s a former geek turned sleazeball- you know he reads the smuttiest novels ever and calls them “his research”. He refuses to read any book with the friends to lovers trope because it’s too upsetting to think about. (Side note Time Bastard gave us a definite date that timelines don’t branch/reset before depending on whichever theory you believe because the homeless man is in every timeline, meaning that Jenny’s death is fixed in time and never changes: October 7th 2004, so the timelines change anywhere between October 8th 2004 and 2018.)

In whatever timeline Emma finally gets to have her weed farm, she meets Paul when he tells her he was prescribed that marajamij for his anxiety and he was too scared to try Xanax. She thinks he’s kind of cute for a wet cat of a corporate slave. “Fuck the patriarchy? Yes please.” (Side note Paul seems so uptight and unfuckable like bro gotta be blank down there like a Ken doll and has no discernible kinks from what I remember while Emma is laid back and chill asf and like… normal in comparison so yeah sure Paulkins canonically fucks but does Emma enjoy it?? Like dude even Pete’s more fuckable than him come on.)

Pete and Steph don’t kiss when they admit their feelings for eachother even though one of them would die before ever getting to kiss each other because they both think it’ll only make it that much harder to go through with sacrificing the other. One of the reasons Pete also chooses to be the one to take the bullet because he doesn’t think he even COULD pull the trigger on her. Like it’d be physically impossible for him, in his mind.

TGWDLM was originally meant to be an allegory for the institution brainwashing us. Show Me Your Hands and America’s Great Again: examples of people in power working for and fulfilling the evil wishes of some almighty, otherworldly, inhuman THING (be it aliens, be it those in power). It’s clearly meant to satirize the way that power corrupts and tries to convince you its way is better. Even Hidgens, THE FUCKING TEACHER, tries to teach his student that it will be better for everyone to join in that corruption and give in to the hive mind. This reminds me of how the school system in America tries to paint our history as something glamorous; manifest destiny instead of genocide of the indigenous populations. The people in power convincing those under them that the deaths of countless lives is a good thing and it will pave the way to a better future. Cool motive, still murder. Which is why Emma “Fuck the Patriarchy” Perkins is the last one to be infected. She was incapable of being brainwashed , and even when she was the last one left, she saw that the people watching didn’t care, and the all-consuming threat of corrupted power closes in on her until the very last moment.

The Lords in Black were going to try to convince whoever sacrificed their most treasured something to do more work for them, but Grace required very little convincing. Like Wiggly spoke into her mind like “Gracy-Wace! You forgot my booky-wook! Look in it, see any thing you like? Wanna kill all the pervy-wervys?” And she’s like “holy cow I can kill all the pervy-wervys with this book?” Pete would have needed the most convincing because he’s just lost the only girl who will ever love him (in his mind) and so he’d think these things took away his one chance at true love and NEVER want to deal with them again. Even if they offered him a way to get her back, he’s too smart to know that won’t come without an even bigger price AND too paranoid to think she won’t come back wrong like Max did.

If the Green-Foster family ever did get to move to California and Lex got to be an actress, her interview attitude would be a lot like Reneé Rapp and if she ever got asked about why she’ll openly shit talk people in an interview, she’s like “I used to work retail I learned pretty fast that nothing gets done if you keep your mouth shut.”

[loremaster]

i went crazy (as i am known to do) and drew BOTH of each daily prompt for @raincodeshipweek! nothing past PG-13 here. double check the tags for ships below - or if you want to be surprised, jump in and see them all here:

Hurt/Comfort - Clockmare - I remember a while ago @pixelatedraindrops did a poll over which of the two to draw sick in bed… Halara's cat allergies won out, but I thought the opposite scenario of Fubuki needing recovery from overusing her rewind powers was cute too! This is a very cute ship that needs more love!

Healing - Kokolight - This is *THE* ship that's all about healing. (Emotional healing at least.) Yuma learns a lot from Vivia about how to embrace the uncomfortable parts of life… and Vivia learns a lot from Yuma about how not to let that diminish your spark. Plus, by the end, they understand what each other’s been through more than any other characters... almost. Also, dat height difference. Good shit.

Dancing - Aetheria trio - Similar bonding over shared grief here! But this time there's three of them! Big 3 of Cups energy. It's a shame we never really got to see much genuine interaction between Yoshiko, Waruna, and Kurane during the game's story… but sometimes the most fun parts are what we get to imagine for ourselves, hmm? Anyway, yeah. These three are bonded for life. (Too bad it wasn't a very long one...)

Domesticity - Viviakou - There's nothing funnier than two guys with opposite behaviors. Vivia wedges himself into the crack between the bed and the wall as far as he can. Yakou spreads out and takes up more room than the bed even has. Plus, he snores. Disasters, both of them. …I was going to try and come up with another ship for this prompt, since - spoilers - there'll be more Viviakou later on... but I thought of this image and laughed hard enough I couldn't not draw it!

Sun/Rain - Yakou/Amaterasu Researcher. - One of the happiest moments of Yakou's life was when his wife got him a boat for his birthday. A whole boat!!! A portable office! Never had he felt so loved before. …Never has the sun shone that brightly again. He hates the rain.

Stars - Clockbolt - Fubuki is staring out wistfully at the rain clouds, lamenting that she cannot see her star - the one her parents bought for her. But luckily - “Don't worry, Princess, I'll be your star…!” says Desuhiko. Bolder, brighter, and much, much closer than her faraway prize…Yeah, I think Fubuki would eat that up. This is a fun ship. I like that Desuhiko - against all odds - treats Fubuki like a person. And ironically I think that would make her like him more!!

Flowers - Furroughs - What else could I have drawn for 'flowers,' honestly? It's a cheap bouquet of Black-Eyed Susans! I can't see this as a healthy relationship, honestly, but that's what makes it fun! Imagining them as childhood friends who used to be really close but grew apart in adulthood strikes just the right chord of melancholy with me. Even more heartbreaking if you see them both as trans - imagine Yakou's so excited to have a friend like him, and then as soon as Seth transitions he's like "you don't know me. never speak to me again." Mmm, I do so love to put Yakou through the wringer.

Memories - Yumagami - Sometimes you don't know what you've got until it's gone. I imagine Yuma goes through phantom pains after their pact gets broken, not knowing whose laughter keeps ringing through his ears, what's up with that tingly spot on his cheek, or why he can't look at a barrel without his face feeling hot. (Though, he's probably astute enough to put together the clues...)

First Times - Viviakou - The first time Yakou heard Vivia say that catchphrase, it didn't feel very good.

Final Moments - Viviakou - ...The last time didn't feel very good either.

Swap - Vivia/Amaterasu Researcher - Okay, hear me out. If Yakou had managed to run up that hill, make a deal with Kodaka, and get him to swap their places - that is, he dies while his wife survives and becomes Chief of the Nocturnal Detective Agency - I think Vivia would think the same of Mrs. Furio that he did of Mr. Furio (that is, helplessly smitten). EXTREMELY underrated. Please ship this with me.

Alternate Universe - Zilara - My personal pet rarepair!!! Alas, our two confident creature-lovers have been kept from each other by the cruel hands of fate. So, I cope by drawing them getting fancy little drinks together. This is an homage to Boba AU, of course, but honestly, while drawing this, I was picturing them as students at the local prestigious college campus. Maybe they're members of frat Alpha Beta Omega or something.

Past/Future - Makoyuma - This one's more of a concept/pitch than a fully explored scene, but hear me out: time travel AU. What if Yuma meets a mysterious masked stranger who turns out to be a tech-savvy time traveler from a destroyed future... but then also turns out to be himself, somehow? How is there someone who looks exactly like him, 5000 years from now? What's the connection between Yuma and Makoto? And why are they so drawn to each other?

...The last prompt for the official Ship Week is a free day - so I'm going to take the day off! Though, there are a lot of other ships I lament not shouting out here - Kokobolt, Kokomare, Twimare, Fubugami, just to name a few!!! But I'm gonna give myself a break for now. Don't worry, you'll see more art from me soon - maybe even print versions of this, and some of my other Rain Code fanart. And if there's a specific ship or scenario you really can't wait to see... my commissions are open! ;D

[staying-elive]

I'm so sick of Sam being left out of What if...? (In general, and also to legitimise Peggy as cap)

Is it because they think that without Steve and the morning run meet-cute, that there's no way to recruit Sam? Be real. Ffs.

Because with the tiniest shred of imagination they could make it work.

Take Rhodey. In Iron Man 1 he's the Air Force liaison for research and development, right? He's got a background in aerospace engineering, right? So presumably he'd know about the EXO Falcon program, yeah?

So when a world crisis is underway and the good guys need a little back up, or even pararescue to help civilians, Rhodey could be the one to say 'I know a guy.. Let's call in some help'.

If these are all alternate timelines you could even bring in both Sam and Riley, cos maybe Riley never died and that's why Sam is still active and on-call. A bonus great opportunity to see more of Sam's history and wingman dynamic (which was important enough to make him quit when Riley was killed.)

Point is, if the show creators wanted to, they would.