#I have a prediction as to how I think this will go

[prokopetz]

You know, I'm not going to claim I predicted this, but in retrospect it's kind of obvious that the bullshit video game "secrets" industry is going to have a field day with generative AI. Just think of how easy it's going to be to clickbait people with Mew-is-under-the-truck level fuckery when you can "prove" it with AI-generated screenshots!

[heavenlybodies333]

You two need to fuck -C.K

Clark Kent x bestfriend!reader

Clark was doing that thing again. The furrowed brow. The clenched jaw. The quiet sigh that was always just a little too loud not to be theatrical.

You leaned against the counter in your apartment kitchen, holding two mugs—one coffee, one tea—waiting to see which one he’d gravitate toward today. He didn’t notice you were watching, not really. Not when he was thinking about her.

“She said I make her feel small,” he said quietly murmured.

Ah. Lois again.

You didn’t roll your eyes. You deserved a fucking medal for that. “I don’t think she meant physically,” you offered, with a sip of your own drink. “I mean, you are Superman, Clark.”

He looked at you, that quiet, miserable look that meant he’d been trying to shrink himself all damn day. “That’s not what I want to be with her.”

You offered the tea. He took it. Predictable. “And yet, every week it’s a new heartbreak monologue,” you muttered.

He blinked. “What?”

“Nothing.”

He caught your tone. You saw the flicker behind his glasses—curiosity, maybe even hurt. You didn’t care. You were tired. So tired of being the one he turned to only after she shattered him into glass pieces and didn’t bother cleaning up after herself. You were exhausted from the bleeding fingers of piecing him back together.

You toss another Red Vine into your mouth and watch Clark pace the length of your apartment like he’s trying to wear holes through the hardwood.

“She said I’m emotionally unavailable,” he mutters, mostly to himself, jaw tight behind his glasses. “That I’m not presentin the relationship. Like—what does that even mean?”

You sigh—loudly. On purpose. “Maybe it means she’s tired of dating a man who disappears every time the sky turns red.”

Clark glances at you with a flicker of guilt in his eyes. But he doesn’t stop pacing. “She knew what this was when we started,” he says. “She knew I’d have to lie. That there were things I couldn’t tell her. I thought she understood—”

You slam your laptop shut, the sound sharp enough to stop him mid-rant. “Oh my God, Clark,” you say, voice dangerously even. “You know what your problem is?”

He stares at you, surprised by your tone. You never raise your voice at him. “My problem,” he repeats slowly, crossing his arms over his absurdly broad chest. “Sure. Let’s hear it.”

You stand up. The air between you tightens. “Your problem is you keep expecting Lois to love the man you pretend to be, and then you throw a tantrum when she doesn’t know how to love the rest of you. You want her to understand you without letting her see you. That’s not love, Clark. That’s hiding.”

The silence after is thick. And for a second—just a second—you let yourself look at him the way you try so hard not to. The way a best friend shouldn’t. Because he’s looking at you too.

“Wow,” he says finally. “Thanks, Doctor.”

You snort and flop back onto the couch. “Anytime, Smallville.”

“She said I’m too intense,” he added quietly. “That I don’t know how to turn it off.”

You stared at him. "Clark, you fly into burning buildings. I don’t think ‘casual’ is really your setting.”

That made him laugh. A little. But you don’t look at him again. You can’t. Because it’s getting harder and harder to keep pretending that being his friend is enough. That hearing about Lois Lane every other goddamn day doesn’t feel like someone carving into your ribs with a hot spoon.

That the real reason you’re mad isn’t because he’s hurting—

It’s because he’s never hurt for you.

Clark crashes on your couch that night.

Of course he does. He always does when things go sideways with Lois. You hand him a blanket without a word.

And you lie in bed for three straight hours staring at the ceiling, teeth clenched, nails digging into your own palm because all you can smell is her perfume clinging to his skin.

You're so good at being the best friend.

So good at biting your tongue.

But your jaw aches now from the effort of it.

And the way he moaned her name in his sleep? Yeah, that almost broke you.

Things start to shift after that. You're short with him in the mornings. He notices. You lie and say you’re tired. Work. Stress. PMS. You say everything except the truth.

Because the truth is this:

You want him.

You want him to stop running to you only when he’s broken.

You want to stop being his Plan B.

And the tension between you?

Way. Fucking. Worse.

Every time he leans over your shoulder to show you something on your phone, your breath catches.

Every time he touches your back absentmindedly, your skin burns.

Every time he calls you “sweetheart” in that low, absent way—God, you want to scream.

The line gets thinner.

The next night, you’re brushing your teeth in the mirror when he appears behind you. Shirtless. Just a pair of sweatpants slung low on his hips and a towel draped over his neck from the shower.

You drop your toothbrush.

He catches it.

You make the mistake of looking up—at his reflection, at him, at the way his eyes drop down your bare legs in that slow, deliberate way that feels like being dragged over coals.

Neither of you moves for a second.

Then he leans down, brushes a damp curl from your cheek, and says quietly, “Don’t start something you can’t finish.”

You hold his gaze.

“I’m not starting anything,” you lie.

And he smiles.

Like he knows exactly how much you want to.

It happens after one too many nights of pretending you don’t hear the way he groans into his pillow. Pretending you don’t wake up pressed against his chest with his hand splayed low on your stomach.

The line thins even more when he zips up the back of your dress for an event neither of you wants to attend, and his fingers hesitate on the zipper at your lower spine, just a second too long.

One night, it gets bad.

You're both on the couch. Movie playing, long forgotten.

Your head is on his chest, his heartbeat rapid, like he's just come back from a fight. Your legs are across his lap, and his hands rest lightly on your knees.

And for a long time, that’s all it is. You shift slightly, stretching, your thigh grazing the hard line of something that absolutely wasn’t there ten minutes ago.

He freezes. You pretend not to notice. But your pulse thunders. Because now you know. It’s not in your head. It never was. You glance up at him, lips parted like you're going to say something.

He meets your eyes, and—

God.

If he kissed you now, you’d let him do anything. But he doesn’t. Instead, he exhales through his nose, jaw clenched tight, and says quietly—

“I think I should take the couch tonight.” And before you can stop him, he’s gone.

That night you dream about him.

Flesh and heat and hands on your hips. His mouth everywhere, saying things in that voice—that voice—you’ve never heard him use.

When you wake up, sweaty and dazed and gasping his name into your pillow, the room is still dark.

You sit up, blink toward the door. And find Clark already standing there. You blink again and he’s gone, you groan flopping back into your bed.

Horny, hot and now sleep deprived. Looking around the room you make sure you're really alone.

Then you roll onto your side and look at the empty space next to you in bed.

His pillow still smells like him—warm cotton and cedar and the subtle ozone of lightning in the distance. It makes your chest tighten. Makes your hips press together in reflex.

Your fingers slip beneath your waistband almost before you realize what you’re doing.

You bite your lip hard. Trying to be quiet. Civilized.

But the thought of him—towering and kind and good, the way he talks to you in the dark, the way his hand grips your waist when he sleeps without thinking—it ruins you.

You close your eyes and think about how close his mouth was the other night when he leaned over you to grab the remote. Think about his breath on your neck. How his voice dropped when he said your name like it meant something.

Your fingers move slower now, deeper.

You moan once—soft, unsure. Then again. Louder. Needier. “…Clark.”

What you don’t know is that he’s standing outside your door. Frozen. Back against the hallway wall, eyes squeezed shut like it’ll block out the sound of you moaning his name. He hadn’t planned to come back so soon. He thought you’d be asleep.

But then he heard you—really heard you. Your heartbeat thudding, your breath going uneven.

And then your voice—“Clark…”

He stiffens. All over. Painfully.

He should leave. Fly off. Do anything but this. But his feet are glued to the floor. His palms are fists at his sides.

Inside, your hips lift off the mattress as your fingers circle faster. Eyes squeezed shut. Head thrown back.

Your other hand clutches his pillow now. You’re gone—completely immersed in the fantasy of his mouth, his voice, his hands all over you. The way he’d speak softly. Tell you how good you’re doing. How long he’s wanted this too.

You come with a cry that’s sharp, broken, and soaked in his name.

“Clark—oh, God—”

Outside, he groans low in his throat and presses the heel of his hand against the bulge in his pants like it might help. It doesn’t.

He leans forward, forehead to the doorframe, trembling with restraint. He won’t touch himself. He can’t.

Because if he gives in now—

If he even thinks about what you sound like on the other side of this door, wet and wrecked and panting for him—he’ll break every promise he made to himself.

He stays there. Long after your breathing evens out. Long after the fan resumes its quiet spin. Hoping that he’ll be able to will away the pulsing erection that's keeping him from making any appropriate decisions at the moment. Eventually walking away back into the living room and back onto the couch, unable to fall asleep without picturing your soft delicate hands touching yourself.

The line becomes non-existent when it happens again when he catches you staring at him mid-shave, towel wrapped around your chest, you quickly look away walking back into your room where you think your out of eyesight.

You drop the towel.

Not on purpose. Not exactly. You just… let it slip off your skin as you root through the bottom drawer for something to wear—something soft, something loose, because sleeping next to Clark has you sweating through your clothes like you're a damn teenager again.

Your nipples peak instantly in the cool air. Your chest tightens with goosebumps, thighs brushing instinctively, and you're too busy pawing through the drawer to realize—

Clark can see you in the mirror.

He doesn’t make a sound.

Not at first. “Is this what you do when you think I’m not looking?”

You freeze. Straighten slowly, heart slamming. “Clark—”

“Don’t lie,” he says, standing now. “You knew I could see you.”

You turn around, lips parting to argue, to say I didn’t mean to—but the look on his face stops you dead.

You turn around slowly. The silence stretches—he’s standing in the bedroom doorway.

You turn slowly, towel long forgotten on the floor, arms crossing over your chest like a shield—but it’s no use. His eyes are already there, already everywhere and anywhere.

“You think I don’t know what you sound like when you come?” he asks, your knees almost buckle.

“Clark—”

He closes the distance between you in three impossible steps, “Do you have any idea what you did to me the other night?” he whispers, voice a growl. “Do you know what it took not to come in here and fall on my knees for you?”

Your breath catches in your throat. “You… heard that?”

He huffs a laugh—humorless. “Sweetheart, I felt it. Every sound you made. Every time you said my name like—” His voice breaks, his hand coming up to cup your cheek, thumb brushing just below your eye.

“Like you wanted me.”

You do. God, you do. But the years of friendship press against your ribs like a vice.

“You were with Lois,” you whisper, not even sure why you're saying it anymore—maybe to punish yourself, or to stop yourself from losing the last shred of control.

His eyes harden, but not at you.

“I was never really with her,” he says, fierce and reverent. “I was trying to be someone else. Someone I thought she could love. But with you…”

His forehead touches yours. Breath shallow. “I’ve only ever been myself with you.”

You exhale shakily, lips parting—“I’m not your backup plan,” you whisper. “If you touch me, Clark, I need to know it’s me you're thinking about. Not Lois. Not what you lost. Me.” His expression twists. Like you’ve just asked him if the sun is real.

He exhales once. Then reaches up—gently—and cups your face with both hands. “Sweetheart,” he murmurs, and God, that voice—low, desperate,“There’s no one else. There hasn’t been for a long time.”

You gasp into his mouth as he walks you back blindly until your knees hit the mattress. His hands—God, his hands—are under your thighs before you know it, lifting you, laying you down like you weigh nothing. Like you’re precious.

“You have no idea—” he groans into your neck, “how long I’ve wanted to—fuck—”

His voice breaks as he kisses his way down your chest, slow and reverent. He’s on his knees now, hair tousled from your fingers, his tongue licking a stripe over the soft swell of your breast before pulling one nipple into his mouth.

You arch with a soft cry. “Clark—God—”

“Tell me this is real,” he breathes, voice wrecked. “Tell me I’m not dreaming again.”

Your hands cup his face, forcing him to look up at you. “This is real,” you whisper, eyes shining. “And I’ve wanted it just as long.”

He surges up and crashes his mouth into yours again, one hand is braced beside your head. The other trails down—over your ribs, your waist, your hip—and then dips between your legs.

He groans the moment he feels how wet you are for him. “Jesus—”

“You heard me the other night, didn’t you?” you whisper.

His eyes flick up. “Yes.”

You blush, but you don’t stop him when he pushes your legs apart and sinks two thick fingers into you like he already knows exactly how to touch you.

You cry out, back arching, fists in the sheets.

“I nearly came just listening to you,” he says, kissing your stomach, then your hip. “And you said my name—God, sweetheart—I’ve never wanted anything so bad.”

His head drops between your thighs.

And when his mouth meets you there—hot, slow, possessive. You grip his hair and moan his name as he licks you open, slow circles that build and build until you’re shaking. Until your thighs are trembling around his shoulders and you’re biting your fist to keep from screaming.

He looks up, lips glistening. “Let go.”

Your orgasm crashes through you like a supernova—blinding, hot, full-body—and when you come down, he’s already kissing you again, sliding out of his sweats, murmuring something soft and low and aching against your lips.

When he pushes inside you for the first time, it’s everything. His forehead presses to yours. His voice rough in your ear. “You feel like heaven.”

You hold onto him like you’ll fall through the mattress without him. “Then don’t stop. Please, Clark—don’t stop.”

He thrusts once—deep, careful, like he’s testing if you can take him—and the sound you make has his jaw going slack.

“God,” he groans. “You’re so tight. I—I don’t want to hurt you.”

You pull him down by the nape of his neck. “You won’t. I want all of it. All of you.”

His rhythm stutters.

Then he grabs your wrists and pins them gently to the bed above your head, gaze wild with something that looks a lot like desperation. “You’re so beautiful.”

The sound of skin meeting skin is filthy now, echoing through the room like thunder.

You wrap your legs around his waist and pull him impossibly closer. Your body moves with his like you were made for this—like you knew it would be like this.

He shifts—just slightly—and hits that spot that has your vision going white at the edges. You cry out, writhing under him, and his hand immediately slips between your bodies, fingers circling your clit like he needs to feel you come again.

“Come for me,” he begs, voice raw and ragged. “I need to feel you.”

You let go moaning—his name echoing from the walls like a siren. He thrusts once more. Twice. Then he’s groaning your name through gritted teeth, collapsing over you as he spills deep inside, hips jerking once, twice more as your walls flutter around him.

He collapses on top of you, breathing hard, the weight of his body grounding you in a way nothing else ever has. His face buried in your neck. Your fingers tangled in the damp curls at the base of his skull.

You lie there for a long time. Sweating. Shaking. Sated. Eventually, he lifts his head and looks at you—really looks at you.

“Can I stay?” he asks softly, and you know what he means. Not the night.

You press your forehead to his. And nod. “I should’ve asked you to stay years ago,” you whisper. He smiles, slow and boyish, and kisses you again.

a/n: MY MAN MY MANNN

[solivagant-1]

⋆˙⟡ Let the Light In ⟡˙ ⋆

Ch 4: Conflictions

Characters: Rumi x fem!reader

A/N: In this fic everyone’s queer because I say so wlw & mlm solidarity. Didn’t feel the greatest about this chapter initially but I think it turned out okay so I hope y’all enjoy. The next one will be one of my favs so I’m excited to finish writing that :))

The weather was unexpected.

Your once sunny day turned into dreary skies and heavy rain as soon as you stepped outside the office. A day your choice of clothing had not at all predicted, which led you to getting rained on as you raced to the recording studio.

All three Huntr/x members sit in a circle, running through potential lyrics and chords. Rumi’s guitar strumming turns into a distorted melody while Mira & Zoey’s singing shifts into frustrated groaning.

“This song sucks!”

“We only have to write the best diss track ever to crush the Idol Awards, or there’ll be a demon apocalypse.” Mira flops back onto a beanbag. “No pressure at all.” She tosses a dart straight at a poster of Jinu’s face taped to a dartboard. Around it hangs more printouts of the Saja Boys members.

“Yeah! We gotta get up close and insult their stupid faces. Their stupid, smug demon faces.” Zoey flops onto the same beanbag Mira’s laying on, resting her head on Mira’s shoulder and slinging an arm around her waist. A hurried knock sounds from the production room door.

Rumi’s met with the sight of you dripping from head to toe. In your hands was a small plastic bag you had sheltered from the rain. She gasps and brings you inside, immediately reaching for a blanket to dry you off. You’re still shivering as she wraps it around you. You only wore a simple shirt and slacks. Your body needs warmth.

Rumi takes off her hoodie without thinking.

She freezes. Then remembers she picked out a turtleneck because of the weather. Chances are her patterns will stay well hidden. At the moment, it’s you she’s more concerned about as she helps you into her hoodie.

You release a sigh. “Hey guys.”

“Hi Y/N.” They reply at the same time, a little quieter version of how they greet Bobby.

“Mind telling us why you’re soaking wet?”

“I didn’t check the weather—" you sneeze, “the weather. It was sunny when I left, how was I supposed to know it was gonna rain?” You grumble.

Rumi leads you to sit on an unoccupied beanbag. Mira and Zoey get up from theirs and place it next to the one you’re on, encouraging Rumi to sit. Her eyes widened a little at that, but regardless, she took her place next to you, letting you lean against her with her arm around your shoulders. Surprisingly, Rumi’s skin is incredibly warm. Must be from all the layers she always has on you think, not noticing how red and quiet she’s become.

You hold up your hand that holds the plastic bag. “Anyways, I brought you guys mochi donuts.”

Bobby had already told you how they were absolutely buzzing to get to the studio earlier that day. Knowing how much of a workaholic Rumi is, or any of them for that matter, chances are this is probably the most food they’ve been in proximity to since lunch. You grin as each of their eyes light up, all eager to grab one.

“So, how’s the song going?” The three of them groan.

“That bad, huh?”

Mira glares at the posters, hitting one dart after another as Zoey catches you up to speed. Once Mira is out of darts, she began tearing them off the studio wall. “I’m taking these down! Just like how we’re gonna take down these boys!”

A lightbulb goes off in Rumi’s head. “Take down? Takedown! That’s the song! It's a takedown!

Zoey, whose brain is always running a mile a minute, comes up with the beginning lyrics. “So sweet, so easy on the eyes but hideous on the inside!”

Mira nods, “Nice.”

“You like it?”

Mira continues, “Whole life spreading lies, but you can’t hide.”

“Baby, nice try.”

Mira crossed her arms, impressed by Rumi’s addition. “Woah. That’s sounding good.”

“I’m about to switch up these vi–” her voice strains from a rough cough. “Sorry guys.”

“No, no, take it easy.” “Yeah, rest that voice for Idol Awards.

The rest of the day was spent working out the beginnings of the song. Their motivation lasted into the evening until their stomachs took first priority. “I’m beat.” Mira stands, cracking her stiff neck “You comin, Zoey? Rumi?” Zoey nods tiredly. She stretches her body and goes to Mira’s side. “Rumi?”

Rumi doesn’t notice them standing up. Instead, she’s laser focused on the computer in her lap, her headphones plugged as she replays her vocals over and over again, listening for flaws.

Mira swats the back of her head. “Ow,” Rumi exclaims. She looks up at Mira, who was hiding a small smirk as she takes off the headphones. “I asked: Are you coming with us?”

Rumi looks between them and the computer. She chews her lip, “I think I wanna stay. My vocals aren’t right yet. I want to work on them.”

“Rumi,” Zoey sighs, “The song will still be here tomorrow. You need the rest. We don’t want you staying here for the rest of the night.”

“I can stay,” you shrug, looking between the group members. “I don’t have any plans. And I’ll make sure she quits before 12 so she doesn't overwork herself.” Rumi smiles and looks at the group with pleading eyes. They both relent and pick up their things before leaving.

Neither of you notice how fast the hours tick by. Their recording studio became the floor plan for a slumber party. Furniture was pushed around to add to the cozy atmosphere. Throughout the night, you helped Rumi mix beats, experiment with vocals, and even test out new lyrics. Rumi would always ask for your thoughts whenever she made any changes.

The mochi donuts you had ordered were dwindling down to the very last pieces. Rumi saved the last in the box for you.

“So, why’d you really stay?” Rumi finally asks.

“I always have trouble sleeping.” You confess. “Being here with you is ten times better than staring at a wall for hours.” You take a sip of water from your blue tumbler. “It’s actually why I keep giving you tea. I wanted to learn the best types to induce sleep, then ending up doing a whole deep dive on the different types.”

At the mention of sleep, Rumi can feel the exhaustion seeping through her body. She tries to fight it, but starts to nod off on the couch next to you. “Hey, don’t fall asleep on me,” you poke her side. You glance up at the clock on the wall. 11:49, you may have to call it quits before 12. Rumi nods tiredly, shaking the sleepiness out of her. Her eyes strain against the computer screen as she wills herself to be okay with the unfinished product. Just as she’s about to click save, the lights go out. Every machine in the room goes dark. In her head, Rumi’s screaming a thousand curses that would surely send Celine into an early grave.

Thunder cracks outside. You both have the same idea to get up, but the lack of light screws with your coordination. You can feel Rumi brush past you to try the light switch. Nothing. She opens the studio door that leads out into the hallway and finds it's completely pitch black. She shuts it close. “Powers completely out,” she deems.

You had forgotten where you placed your phone. But you needed its flashlight in order to see. You stumble around the room at the same time as Rumi does.

The two of you collide. Rumi loses her footing, sending the two of you to topple onto one of the couches. Your head knocks against something solid. Found it.

Despite there being no light, you can feel how close she is to you. Her breath fans against your cheek. She has one arm around your back—an attempt at breaking your fall—and one above your head to steady herself. Rumi’s never been more grateful for a power outage in her whole life.

Thank god she can’t see my face

You immediately interrupt her silent thank you by accidentally shining a blinding flash right in her eyes. She yelps, moving backwards and holding her hand against the light. “Sorry!” You apologize quickly, shining it in a different direction.

“Hm, the light’s not strong enough,” you muse. It’s not?? Rumi exclaims in her head. “We need something brighter.”

You attempt to mess with your flashlight settings. Though within an instant, the room suddenly lights up in a purple tinted glow. You look over and see Rumi standing awkwardly with her saingeom brandished. She looks between you and the blade, smiling sheepishly. “Light.” She clarifies.

You huff in amusement. Though this is a good opportunity to get a closer look at her weapon of choice. “Can I see it?” You can’t help but ask.

Rumi steps closer. Her expression becomes serious. She takes your hand and raises it, placing the hilt gently in your grasp.

Celine would have a heart attack.

You inspect it closer, waving it around carefully. “It’s very light,” you note. You look good welding her saingeom. The light makes your skin glow. Rumi briefly considers the idea of training you. An assistant manager who knew how to help them in more ways than one? The idea would be beneficial for the group. It’s definitely not the idea of sharing her technique, her craft, her time that makes her dwell on it longer than she needs to.

The lights flicker back on. You hand her back the saingeom, and she throws it off into thin air. The alarm on your phone blares at 12 o’clock exactly.

Rumi walks you out of the building. “Well, I guess this is goodbye.” You smile.

Rumi glances around. “It’s too dangerous for you to go out alone. Your place is further away. It’s late, it’s dark, and it’s still raining. You can stay with me?” She offers. Her building isn’t very far from the recording studio.

Rather than calling her driver, you can’t help but ask if you two can take the metro instead, mumbling something about unsafe drivers and slippery streets. Rumi holds out an umbrella for the both of you, giving you no choice but to squeeze close to her for the short walk to the station. Not that you minded, far from it. Her presence near you is becoming a comfort.

Although there were enough guest rooms to lose track of in the lower floors, Rumi didn’t want you to go down alone. For your safety, obviously for your safety, she leads you to the penthouse floor where the rest of Huntr/x resides.

She leads you to the couch, fetching pillows and blankets from her own room to bring to you. You accept them gratefully as she sits next to you.

“Thank you for staying with me today.” Rumi looks down at her hands. When she doesn’t hear a response, she looks over.

You were already asleep. She tries to move you down, but your head falls against her shoulder instead. Rumi blushes and remains still, not wanting to disturb you. It was so late, and Rumi was just so tired. After giving you a small once over to make sure you’re comfortable, she wants to completely pass out on the couch with you.

But her thoughts keep her awake. It’s no secret Rumi was beyond touch starved. At some point, you had curled up closer to Rumi’s body, and her arm had slipped around your waist. The sight was endearing. And with you asleep, she, for once, didn't mind the stubborn blush that always seemed to appear when you were around. Though the moment is short-lived.

No, she thinks, I can’t be having thoughts like this.

It’s not because you’re a girl. She’s known that about herself at least since her early 20s, when she started meeting other female idols in person. Because just look at them. She hasn’t told Mira or Zoey or even Bobby. Even though she knows they all would accept her, she can’t say the same for the rest of the world.

The other half of her is why. She's still a demon. A mistake, so to speak. You’d never want her. You can never be with her. From a young age, per Celine’s request, Rumi has stayed away from any potential romantic entanglements. Rumi never had a problem with it. She knows deep down no one could ever accept her until she got rid of her patterns. Otherwise she wouldn’t have sworn off love for so long.

She can’t experience love until they’re gone. Even if you know about Hunters and their sacred duties. Even after she spent an entire night realizing all the praise she gave to your appearance still applies after she found out you’re human. If anything, this should give her more motivation to turn the Honmoon gold, but really, she just feels terrible for lying to you. The exact same shame that plagues her when it comes to both Mira and Zoey is beginning to expand to you too.

In the end, Rumi reluctantly falls asleep; and underneath her top, her patterns only grow brighter.

—

It was about 2am when Zoey awoke craving something.

She yawns loudly and stretches in bed before making her way to the kitchen. The pouring rain outside her window sent her right to sleep after a small dinner with Mira. But now, she realizes, it wasn’t enough. She flicks on the light and nearly screams when she sees two dark figures on the couch. But once she sees who it is, Zoey rushes back down the hall and quietly knocks on Mira’s door until she answers.

“Zoey, why the hell—" Zoey drags Mira into the living room by her wrist and points at the two of you. She holds back a squeal, snapping a photo with the flash accidentally on. “Zoey, you’re gonna wake them up.” Mira chides, pushing her glasses back onto her face. Rumi shifts a little in her sleep. “See.”

Not wanting to disturb either of you two, they take their conversation elsewhere, talking in hushed voices. “But they look so cute together!”. Zoey walks back to the kitchen with Mira in tow. “This is proof that I’m winning the bet. I’m getting that $20 from you tomorrow. They’re gonna confess soon, I just know it.” Zoey attempts to reach for a small bag of chips at the top of the fridge.

Mira raises a brow as she leans against the counter. “You get your 20 when they actually admit to it. I know Rumi. She’s going to hold it in for a while. I don’t even think she realizes she even has feelings for her.” Mira reaches for the bag of chips above Zoey’s head with little effort, handing them to her. Zoey looks down at the bag, “Do you think we were like that?”

“Oh yeah.”

Mira tilts Zoey’s chin up with her thumb & index finger and kisses her sweetly. Her glasses fog up just a little. That same hand glides up to cup Zoey’s cheek. “I’m just glad we’re past that phase.”

“We need to tell Rumi eventually.” Zoey tries to say through Mira’s kisses. “Soon, she’s got a lot on her plate.” The two stumble back towards the bedrooms, the bag of chips forgotten on the counter.

—

The following week was spent solely on the song. And killing more demons. A task which never seemed to end as new weak spots opened around the city. In some ways, it proved to be fruitful: saving lives, discovering the beat of the song, and forming new lyrics.

Though as the Saja Boys climbed further into the limelight, their fans fell deeper and deeper under their spell; each passing day became a reminder that no matter how hard the three of them tried, they can’t save everyone. The group wasn’t oblivious to the reports. New missing persons cases were talked of in the media every day, each overshadowed by a new Saja Boys update. Billboards featuring Huntr/x were soon replaced. Weekly awards shows they used to win easily were handed over to them. With every fan they save, they’re met with those demonic faces plastered on every surface in sight.

Rumi became more conflicted. Every new addition to the song began to rub Rumi the wrong way. Her short conversation with Jinu gave her more insight than Celine has ever given her. She hated going behind Mira and Zoey’s backs to meet him, but she still had so many questions. If Jinu was once human, and was condemned because of his mistake, is it the same for the others she’s killed?

Break you into pieces in a world of pain ‘cause you’re all the same.

Her attempts to find out more only did so much.

“Are you a prisoner, too? Is Gwi-Ma making you do this?” She was saved by a concerned Mira before she could get an answer. Regardless of her questions, there was more at stake. If they wanted to win the Idol Awards, she would need his help. Rumi scribbled out a note for Derpy to send. The cover read: Save the date.

Hopefully, this will work.

—

Rumi woke up way too early for her own good the next morning. But she was on a mission. She has her hands in her pockets as she walks, mentally preparing her pitch on the way to her destination. She watches Jinu leaning back casually against the stone walls. An idea comes to mind.

Jinu scoffs. “She wants to meet and she’s late?” he flips the card in his hand. With a smirk, Rumi jumps onto the stone wall next to him without him noticing. When he sees her, he yelps and jumps back, clutching his heart. “You made me come all the way here just to jump scare me?”

“Follow me.”

“Well, I’m glad you’re finally ready to talk. Although, I still don't understand why you called this a date.”

“Date? No! Ew! What are you talking about?” He holds up the card dumbly. Save the date. “That doesn’t mean–you’re so old.” Rumi groans. “This is strictly a business meeting.”

“I figured as much, since you’re seeing that other girl.”

“What? No, we’re not–She wouldn’t be into… that’s not the point!”

“Well, are you?” “Am I what?” “Into her?” Rumi knows he’s probably fishing for information to use against her. Regardless, he’s the only person who can understand the full extent of her dilemma.

“I shouldn’t feel that way. I can’t. Not when I’m like this...even if she does know.”

“She knows?” His eyes narrow at her well hidden patterns.

“Yeah I…well, it wasn’t intentional. We saved her.” I saved her. The image of your smiling face flashes in her mind. Rumi looks up at Jinu, “But she can never know the truth about me.” Jinu is quiet.

“I don’t think you know what a business meeting really entails.” he teases.

With a smile, Rumi shakes her head, walking up the stairs of the scenic path. “What if I told you there’s another way to get your freedom?”

Jinu perks up. “Go on?”

“Help us win the idol awards. Because when we win, the Honmoon will be sealed. And that will guarantee your freedom. Gwi-Ma will be permanently cut off, and all the demons will be gone from this world. I will finally be free of these patterns. No more hiding. No more secrets.” She can’t win without his help. Rumi turns to him, “You can be on this side when the Honmoon is sealed. Away from the demon world, away from Gwi-ma. You can be free of those voices forever.”

“What makes you think the Honmoon can save a guy like me?”

“A guy who tried to help his family? You made a mistake, Jinu.”

He scoffs, “It’s not that simple.”

“But I am a mistake. Have been since the moment I was born. So, I have to believe. Because if there’s no hope for you, what hope is there for me?”

As they walk, they come across a vendor setting up shop. On a table is an assortment of different types of jewelry. She startles them when she calls them over. “A bracelet? For the beautiful girlfriend?”

“No! We’re not--!

“Oh, no, she has one already–” Rumi elbows him in the stomach, making him double over in pain. “I can see why you’re single.” Jinu grits out.

The woman only brightens and turns to Rumi. “Then a bracelet for the special woman in your life?” The woman gestures to a horizontal display stand filled to the brim with bracelets lined next to each other.

Rumi has no idea what she should get for you, but she wants it to be meaningful. You remind her of the color blue. She picks out a woven aqua blue one for you. Then, as she continues to skim, she picks out a hot pink one for Mira and a similar navy blue one for Zoey. Finally, she picks out a purple one for herself to match with everyone. Satisfied, she pays the vendor happily, who then turns to Jinu.

“And for you, young man? Anyone special in your life?”

Jinu stares down at the bracelets. He chooses 2 leather ones with small detailed engravings and pockets them after paying. Rumi doesn’t ask who they’re for. As they walk away from the vendor, he doesn’t say much until they’re out of earshot. He stops in his tracks.

“The demon realm isn’t a place for love. Up here, it’s everywhere,” he starts, “The idea is almost hopeless to believe in.

“That’s the funny thing about hope. Nobody else gets to decide how you feel it. That choice belongs to you.”

Jinu looks down at the two brackets. He gives Rumi a faint smile, then turns into mist in the blink of an eye.

—

Later that night, Derpy lays curled up on the floor next to Rumi as she goes over Takedown. Her voice has been steadily improving since the Golden release. Rumi follows through each lyric with her pen as she sings.

“When your patterns start to show it makes the hatred wanna grow out of my…” She sighs, crossing out the last few lines of the bridge.

“When your patterns start to show, I see a pain that lies below.” She starts to play with the bracelet in her hand. Not Rumi’s, but yours. She hasn’t seen you at all today, so she hasn’t yet gotten the chance to give it to you. Fiddling with it has become sort of a comfort for her. Sensing the sentiment, Derpy leans up onto its paws to inspect it. “Calm down. I’m not gonna see her yet.” Rumi scratches his nose.

A knock sounds at her door, followed by someone clearing their throat. “Rumi?” Mira calls out. Her eyes widened, Mira can’t see Derpy here. “Uh–You gotta get out of here. Come on.” she pushes his head away and scrambles to toss all the papers on her bed into a trash bin. Mira knocks once more. “Yeah! Uh, give me a minute.”

Rumi opens the door to see Mira standing with her arms crossed. “Uh…what are you doing?” She asks nonchalantly.

“Uh, nothing. Just uh…did you want to come in?” “I mean yeah, if you want me to come in, I can come in.” She looks around the room, seemingly not noticing Derpy’s paw clawing at the trashcan that fell on its side. Rumi stiffens. Panic floods through her as she tries to hide him.

Luckily, Mira’s facing away from her. “I heard you singing. You sound good.”

“Yeah, who would’ve thought? Those tonics actually work.” Rumi struggles in the background as Mira peers down the box from Dr. Han’s office. She counts out six silently. Meaning Rumi hasn’t taken any since the visit. She can’t help but wonder why Rumi is lying about that of all things. Or more specifically, what exactly is she trying to hide from Mira?

Mira turns back and picks up a sheet of their lyrics that fell on the bed, the bottom stanza crossed out. “So, why are you changing our lyrics?”

“Oh, I just…” Rumi sighs. “Do you really think this is the right song to beat Gwi-Ma? It’s so hateful.”

“Yeah, because we hate him, and we hate demons.”

“No, I know.”

“Okay, what is up with you? I could swear the other day you were talking to a demon.” Mira steps closer to Rumi, making her back up in return.

“I–“ Rumi fumbles for an excuse to explain her recent behavior.

“Look, I’m pretty good at reading people. Actually, I’m kinda an expert at it.” Rumi sits on the bed to hide Derpy’s tail as Mira speaks. “And I just can’t shake the feeling that you’re hiding something from me.”

“...Mira, I’m not keeping anything from you. I promise.” Mira sighs, internally scolding herself for coming on a bit too harsh. “Sorry, I sound nuts.” she sighs, sitting on the bed right next to Rumi. “I guess these demons are just getting to me. I can’t wait until every last one of them is destroyed and sent back to Gwi-Ma to suffer for eternity.” she chuckles to herself.

“Right, Rumi?”

“Yeah. Eternal suffering. Sounds fun…” Rumi’s tone is dry, almost…disappointed, which doesn’t go unnoticed. Mira stands, but before she can get very far Rumi catches her wrist, surprising her. “I got you something…” Rumi scoots back to her headboard and takes one of the bracelets off her nightstand.

“I got this for you, I got one for Zoey too,” she hands it to Mira, “So we can all match.” Mira clutches it in her hand like it’s something precious. She slides it on. It’s a perfect fit. Mira thanks Rumi before leaving the room.

Despite the gift, Mira can’t shake the feeling. Something is definitely wrong with Rumi, she just can’t figure out what.

Minutes later, Zoey barges in, playfully demanding hers. Rumi hands it over without a second thought. Derpy and Sussy already disappeared into the barrier of the Honmoon, so she wasn’t worried about Zoey seeing the giant blue tiger that was curled up on her bed.

Once Rumi’s left alone, she looks down at the lyrics on the page, a conflicted expression on her face. Rumi can’t help but feel that her relationship with the others is beginning to strain. It won’t be long until they find out what she is.

She just has to hold out until the Idol Awards.

Taglist: @blazemaster4014 , @ang3lz-lov3 , @rainbowmess823 , @honney-bonny , @tell-me-whyyyy-am-i-here , @thestarseternal , @tinysoap , @pr0bablyr0se @coraldiplomatvoidhoagie-blog , @solardvst , @mvskedxrtist , @rileigh519 , @buzzinkhaleesi , @drpepperobsessed , @mysticsportsflapfriend , @left-and-right-up-and-down , @loftilydirevoid , @severelyuniquereview @wickedpyro, @fruityg0rl , @rinapomu , @kisekiworker , @nev-valkyriesdottir , @notheroverthinker , @velvetinkbym , @tyresedidjsfart , @beaflyy , @rujinuuuu , @stuxxnioe , @dyziot

[lustlovehart]

Weapons I think the Monster Reversed!Cast would have. This is just for me to keep track + World building. I looove world building, guys! This all started because I was writing something else 😭. Edit: This was just supposed to be a list, Idk why I wrote so much.

Featuring: Riddle, Ace, Deuce, Cater, Trey, Leona, Jack, Ruggie, Azul, Floyd, Jade, Kalim, Jamil, Vil, Epel, Rook, Idia, Malleus, Silver, Sebek, Lilia, Reader, Rollo, Fellow, Skully, Neige, Chenya

CW: Monster!Reader has an interest in [character], hints of possession, slight fluff, violence, weapons, some parts have Reader eating a person/monster, Reader breaks into bedrooms, stitching (Neige), Reader isn't heavily hunted by MH!Cast/Neutral truce?, threats, biting, Reader doesn't speak in full sentences

MH!Riddle - Sword, one adorned with beautiful detailing, made of scarlet iron. It gives off some sort of righteous vibe, and he'd prefer it simply because swords were used by knights to uphold the law before monsters grew in population. You saw him taking out a couple of beasts while eating some poor sap. It was kind of mesmerizing watching him swing the thing with such practiced ease. You had to leave, but the sense of disappointment that you couldn't watch more lingered. You broke into his room and saw the sword by his side. A little obsessive, however, his work is so pretty, you don't mind. "Red hair... Fight... Really pretty..." He opens his eyes and stares at where you once were, his mouth agape, and he processes what you said. The trainings afterwards consist of him asking Jamil and Vil how to use his weapon in both elegance and functionality. Next time you see him fight, he makes sure to put his practice to good use. He also tries purposefully outshining everyone else. By the time anyone else tries talking to you, he's shooing you off before they get the chance, insisting he'll show you more if you ignore everyone else.

MH!Ace - Twin-Blade. I'd like to think that because he's so good with his hand, he can spin that thing like crazy. He most definitely tries flaunting his skills to everyone, even more so when you're around. The moment he senses you somewhere in the dark on a mission, the number of times he spins, swings, and hits the beast increases by three. He's using both sides of the blade with such practiced ease, the others on the hunt are wondering why he didn't join sooner (Deuce knows what he's doing, because he can smell you too.) By the time he's done, he's already looking into the shadows, hoping you'll be smiling with praise...! You're not there. He's deflating with disappointment and is ready to go back to the headquarters before someone screams. Honestly? He's kind of over it, but he readies his blade anyway. He's about to chuck his weapon and go home, before Deuce gasps. That's different. Even more so when he drops his gauntlets and takes a few steps forward, finally earning Ace's curiosity. He turns—You're inches from his face. "... Showoff... But... Fun."... Ace goes back with a pep in his step while everyone else broods. As long as your attention is on him, he doesn't mind at all.

MH!Deuce - Gauntlets. You’ve seen him wreck a couple of monsters real good with them. He swings so fast that a regular person could never predict where his next punch is coming from. People have tried, but they've never succeeded. He's so absorbed in his training that whenever you appear, he always seems to almost hit you. He'll redirect it last minute. The first time you suddenly showed up right in front of him, he couldn't move his fist in time. His mind is racing with panic at the prospect of hitting you. It's what he wished for in the beginning, but... Now? If he sees you in pain, he might as well be punching himself, too. No one or no thing has ever managed to dodge—Oh hey, you caught it!... You caught it?! Other than a slight wince in pain, you don't seem too bothered... Though to be fair, he didn't put his all into that, and you know that. You only feel a slight pain on your palm, yet Deuce is sitting you down and tending to it like you've been wounded. Any time any other hunter comes close, he warns them to stay away. A part of you thinks that's due to more than just your hand...

MH!Cater - A Mace. It's a good contrast. Mostly because monsters don't expect to see Cater with one due to his bubbly exterior. You surely didn't. He combats it with paint, making the handle a little prettier. You're not sure if it really works, considering it's still a spiky pall of metal he swings at beasts. You snuck in while he was sleeping, with a makeshift keychain, and stuck it on the handle. You're not sure if it suits his taste, but it doesn't matter. He's trying to kill you anyway (That's what you think), might as well have a pretty weapon do you in. When he wakes up, his room smells like you, and he knows exactly where that gift came from. The next time you witness him fighting, he's talking about just how adorable his mace is now! Everyone else isn't too surprised about his before... It's just a little unnerving to watch him do it while fighting some giant beast.

MH!Trey - a Shotgun. He wields it in such a way that it makes it seem like he doesn't wish to shoot it. He'll use the back of the gun to hit monsters before using the barrel on them like a guillotine. He only ever uses it when necessary. You're amazed it hasn't broken. But to be fair, that's due to your efforts. He doesn't know (He does. He just plays innocent) that you're the one fixing it up while he sleeps. Though... You're methods aren't exactly the correct way to fix a gun; he still uses it with pride. The only time he's broken the act of feigning slumber is when you tried eating a match to use your mouth as a blowtorch. There was a small crack you believed you could meld together. He was initially worried for your safety... His worry seems to have been misplaced when he sees you actually do it. "Huh... I didn't think that would work..." You blow a small puff of smoke his way, earning a heartfelt smile. He still pretends to sleep, but that's because every time he does, he can feel you blow fire at him. If he imagines hard enough, it's like a kiss to his forehead.

MH!Leona - A Battle Axe. It's not too heavy, but it packs enough damage for him to slice something down real quick. Not too heavy is an understatement, however, as it's not too heavy for him. Most of the other people who try can only lift it for a few seconds before dropping it. Luckily, you're not a part of the most. You were probably taking a bite of some low-ranking troll when he appeared out of nowhere. You throw the piece of meat away while you furrow your eyebrows at him. He's obviously annoyed with something; you can see it in the way he snarls. You can't ask what's wrong, though, because his head is on your lap before you can sound it out. The axe propped on the tree trunk next to you falls down, and he's about to lunge back up before it hits you (He's not ready for you to die), you've already caught it. Your hand bleeds from holding it by the blade. The rest of the day is him secretly admiring you while your hand plays with his hair. He'll never admit that, however.

Monster & MH!Jack - A War Hammer. He'd probably like the challenge of having to build up his muscles to hold and swing it around. When you first saw him wield it (MH), which was after a year of knowing him (He never told you what he wielded before), he felt pride swell at the way your mouth dropped in amazement at him holding such a giant thing. When you see him wield it as a monster, he definitely swung it at you, and only missed because you dodged it like nothing. Ever since you kept in mind not to let that thing hit you, because he cracked the boulder next to you, 6 times your size, with ease. After finally getting to know you, he sees the way your eyes linger on his hammer. He makes sure not to bring it whenever you two are together. In the cases where you appear during a mission, he'll drop the weapon and start fighting with his fists. He doesn't want to send his hammer your way.

MH!Ruggie - Throwing stars. He has a multitude of different kinds, with different shapes and sizes. Sometimes you can see him dip it in different substances. You can see him use a blow dart too sometimes. The sight of a different person's name on it, though, tells you it's not originally his. You confront him about it when he opens his bedroom door to see you hanging upside down from his window. The shock of your appearance has him dropping all the boxes he was previously holding, earning a curse under his breath. He watches you play with both the blow dart and his throwing stars before finally asking why you're here. Ruggie rushes towards the window, watching you drop from above. But you effortlessly land on the ledge, earning a relieved exhale from his lips. He was entirely ready to catch you. "Stolen...?" So that's what this is about. He tells you it's not stolen; he simply gave it a better home. The person who had it before seemed to not care for it much if they just left it there. He can tell you don't believe him by the way your brows furrow. His eyes widen when his own throwing stars rush by him, you being the perpetrator. He's about to ask what that was for, but you're leaning in, catching his words in his throat. "I'll get... Ruggie better one..."

MH!Azul - Trident. But he's fully capable of wielding heavy weapons like Jack and Leona's. He just... Can't hold them for very long. He gets tired too easily. His strength is amazing, you're just shocked at how lacking his stamina is. He's second only to Idia. On solo missions, you tag along, and he does everything in his power to avoid eye contact. Not because he wishes to not look at you, no, that's one of the few things he wishes to do. It's because... He's currently using his weapon as a cane to go up the mountain. He had no idea...! This ruins the atmosphere he wished to have with you on this job...! How is he supposed to play the part of a gentleman when he can barely make it up this mountain while you're walking along as if this isn't torture? He stiffens when he feels a presence next to him, ready to warn you to step away. By the time he looks though, it turns out to be you... His sense is so scrambled he can't make out what's a threat... "Carry... Azul?" He couldn't possibly. He has pride; he refuses. His posture straightens, and he acts as if he's regained all his energy. You don't believe him, but you watch him remove that trident from the floor and carry it like the true hunter he is. You can't help but tease him for the sudden shift. "... Azul is... Strong... Maybe... Can carry me too?"... He carries you bridal style all the way up the mountain, all of his fatigue seemingly gone. You have no idea how he did it...

MH!Floyd - A kusarigama. He might be one of the few hunters who actually scare you with the way he handles his weapon. Of course, they all have that smug look on their face when they take down a monster. Watching him swing the chain around and use the blade is entertaining, yes, but... he's just way too good at it. Sometimes he looks bored when he swings the chain around a beast's neck to pull them in and end the job; in fact, you prefer it that way. He gets scarier when he's in a giggling fit and takes down multiple at once. He'll come up to you afterward and ask if he can catch you like that. Before you know it, the chain is wrapped around you, and he's pulling you in as he whispers. You're about to bite him out of panic, only stopping when he shouts 'just kidding!' and hugs you closer. He laughs when you don't break out of the chains despite their weak grasp on you. His laughter dies down when your hands "reluctantly" wrap around him.

MH!Jade - Two Kukri Machetes. He almost looks more like a monster than you do when he wields them. There's a certain glint in his eyes when he successfully dispatches monsters. It's somehow even scarier than Floyd's. Whenever you attempt to hang out with him, he's always sharpening his blades with the most courteous of smiles. It's frightening, but that might be due to your nature as a monster. You're sitting in a forest, letting Jade feed you all the mystery forages from the wilderness. You think he might be testing which ones are poisonous on you. You won't die and you get free food, so it's a win o you. Though if you show any signs of distress or change, he'll gently open your mouth and have you spit it out. Not without a double-edged remark, however. "What a strong stomach. Perhaps I should let you eat it. I might find your weakness." He never does go through with his claim. You were too preoccupied with him to even notice you were being stalked, not seeing that he's thrown one of his Machetes at a monster, it's only when he says "Oh my, well that's no good..." and chucks his second one without even looking, do you notice. An extremely rare occurrence for you. Just how focused on eating did Jade have you? "Hm? Why, they were looking at you like a feast. It seems they had no idea who you were... Pity. Though it's no matter." You watch his hand reach for yours, placing a flower in your palm. "I wish to be the only one who truly knows you."

MH!Kalim - Bo Staff. It doesn't do harsh damage, but the speed he spins it at is dangerous, paired with fluidity similar to Jamil’s. Not enough to kill, but enough to incapacitate. Truth be told, Kalim’s never actually killed a monster. You’ve seen him knock them out, he's just... never gone for a finishing blow. It makes you wonder if he doesn’t know they’re not dead… There have been a couple of instances where he walks away, unassuming of the monstrosity that lunges at him. They only stop because you step between them, your eyes looking down on it. The amount of times you’ve had to step in and finish the job for him is too much, especially for someone meant to be killing monsters. Even Jamil steps in for him when you can’t. It should be a hint for him, yet he’ll simply hug you tight, joyous that you’re there. You wonder if it’s on purpose or not.

MH!Jamil - Chakrams. While several hunters have mesmerized you with the way they fight, you think Jamil has you watching him the most. He incorporates such a fluid movement when he throws his weapon, and even when he simply uses it in hand-to-hand combat, that you’ve sat for hours in the shadows watching him train. Weirdly enough, you want him to use them on you. You’re curious about being on the receiving end of such deadly blows. If you bring it up, he'll consider it simply because you want it. But his aim is so scarily accurate, he fears he might truly hit you if he tries. So instead, he teaches you how to use them. Which, he definitely shouldn't do, considering his occupation. He just can't help the way you seem to perk up with the monstrous charm when you actually do it. At this point, he might as well use his weapon for hypnotization so you'll never disappear for days on end again. He thinks he likes the way your eyes light up with genuine enjoyment when he's around, however, so he'd rather not.

MH!Vil - A Spear. It defeats some practicality, but he always makes sure to polish its barrel while adorning it in beauty. Yes, once it breaks, he'll get a new one; despite it, he'll always pay careful attention to it. You must say, he definitely has the prettiest weapon(s) among everyone in the foundation. He probably caught you staring at it one time when he returned to his room, the curtains shut, while you sat on his bed. Typically, he prefers for nobody to dirty his sheets, and he thinks you know that. He assumes so, considering his shower seems to be freshly used. Your nail taps the blade once, before moving to the engraving on its handle. Transparent fabrics wrap everything together neatly. You don't seem to notice him at all. A sure sign that you don't truly see him as a threat. "Haven't you been taught not to touch others property?" You perk up at the sound of his voice. A little too late, however, as once you turn, he's gone. You feel the spear being taken from your hand, and by the time you look, Vil is inches from your face. He turns the blade to point at you, and if you didn't know any better, he would plunge it into your chest at this moment. He uses the other end to open the curtains, allowing the moon to hit your features. "I shouldn't be very surprised, though." You remain silent when he places his hand next to where you sit. "You are a monster after all."

MH!Epel - He wanted to use gauntlets originally. After joining Vil... He was made to use a weaponized Shield. He's actually so disappointed in it. He could have at least gotten a cool blade, like literally everybody else. Why is he the only one without some offensive weapon!? You listen to him complain to himself about it as you sit in the dark. You don't think he realizes that he quite basically is using the shield as offense... He's charging full force into full brutes, knocking them back. By the time they're back up and ready to lunge at him, he's already turned it over and dropped the thing full force on their head. A brutal sight, yet he's still complaining how lame it is... He jumps when you appear by his side, your eyes looking him up and down. "You can't see..." Your clawed finger taps his bicep, "Strong now... Good at shield."... He learns to be more appreciative of it.

MH!Rook - Bow and Arrow (Are we surprised?). You've actually purposefully broken at least five of his bows to see if he has to buy a new one. He pulled one from under his pillow, and you have no idea why it was there. Easily the best marksman in the business. He's shot arrows near you multiple times, and each instance, you believe he's finally decided to really hunt you down, only to look at the multiple poems stuck on the shaft and see that wasn't his intent. You've taken your revenge by outlining his sleeping body with these same arrows. He woke up in the middle of the night, pleasantly surprised by your gift, serenading you about your generosity... The next day was spent trying to eat in peace while a poetic hunter lavishes you with admiration. You don't put up much resistance when he rests his head on your shoulder and leaves his hat on top of you.

MH!Idia - Scythe. Though not as proficient with it as Reaper!Idia, still decently skilled. You were there when he first chose the weapon, actually. Way before you had personally met any of the monster hunters. You were hanging from a tree while he was in his room, flipping through his choices. He chose the scythe because it looked the coolest and reminded him of a character from a story he liked. He had his doubts with how flashy a weapon it is. After you finally met, you asked him about it, and he turned pink at how embarrassing that was. You... You saw him fanboy over how cool a weapon is... You let him ramble about all the confidence points he lost with you as you pat his back. If you insist, the scythe is interesting, he'll go back to crazing over it. If you go even further and compliment him? He either goes into full-fledged self-assurance or a ball of fluster. You have to pat him on the back either way, though. When you're out of sight, he begins cursing out everyone else, because the idea of you doing that to anybody other than him...? Everyone awakens to an ominous letter detailing all of their suspicious purchases the next day.

MH!Malleus - The only one fully capable of fighting with his bare fists. Though if need be, he'll fight with weapons, which is most of the time, as he seems to cause more damage without them. He never has a set one, always changing. He's still proficient with all of them, however. His pure strength alone is a testament to his formidability to others. Some workers don't even wish to be in his proximity, fearing he might touch them; Except for you. Despite the bounty on your head and him supposedly being on the hunt for you, you let him touch you as much as he wishes. You should fear that one day he'll turn on you and claim his reward, yet here you are, allowing him to curiously touch every monstrous feature of yours without struggle. You've seen his deadly ability; it's just the tender feeling of his hands moving through your features that overpowers it. Fortunately for you, you're the only monster he'll ever touch like that, and he hopes he's the only hunter to touch you like this too.

MH!Silver - A Lance. A weapon that should typically be wielded on a horse, which he does do, yet he also handles it on the ground perfectly fine. It's even much larger on his person, only furthering the impressiveness. Despite the giant weapon, he still takes down monsters with a certain kindness, gently putting them down when they fall. When you ask him why, he glanced once at his weapon before softly telling you, "They didn't ask to be monsters." You're silent at his answer, glancing down when his hand takes yours, and once more in that sweet tone, "You didn't, right?" The silence in your reply fails to answer his question, leaving ambiguity in the truth of your existence. He doesn't voice any form of disappointment, however, instead, he hands you his large weapon, allowing your clawed fingers to grip its hilt. Anyone else would fear a monster to attack them when unarmed, yet he isn't, not at all. With the softest of smiles, he comforts you. "I think... You're the nicest of all."

MH!Sebek - A Rapier. He insists it shows off his skills better. It's not big and boorish like others; he could quite easily carry that, but neither is it small and evasive, though he could easily dispatch those as well. His specific sword makes each strike of his look like a sting. You think he enjoys how fast it makes him look. You probably grew curious about whether it was him or just the sword that made him look fast, though, and took hold of its hilt. He's quick to bust in and tell you not to dirty his weapon with your heinous touch. "You definitely ate something with those hands!"... And he's not necessarily wrong... But you don't give it back, you insist on examining it further, earning more of his temper. He's about to start yelling when he sees your claw scratch his blade. "How Dare—! Oh...?" When you give it back to him, his name is engraved on the steel, a (human) heart drawn next to it. "This is quite nice...! Why... is there a heart next to it....?!" His determination to not let anyone else touch his sword increases after that

MH!Lilia - Two Kama's. He uses them to tend a garden in Diasmonia's quarters. Yet, they also double as his signature weapon. You're sure that he's probably cut wheat right after a mission, earning the ire of other hunters at their crops being sullied with monster... It doesn't matter, though, as no one eats the food he makes with such ingredients. His cooking is bad, yes, but you think it only worsens in the eye of a human because he skillfully used those same tools to successfully dispatch twenty different beasts... But... You're the only one who can stomach his cooking. It's not the best thing you've ever eaten, yet it's also not the worst. Except, you actually do like his cooking. That alone has earned you the entire foundation, as well as regular civilians you're close with, to repeatedly ask you if you're okay and perform regular medical checkups on you to see if you're fine. When you say you are, they don't really believe you... Yet the way you return to the kitchen to dutifully help him cook his horrendous dishes has them second-guess... They all go on a mission to cook better (worse) than him.

MH!Reader - Dagger(s. They've got like 16 strapped on them, all with different designs and uses). It's what I usually picture them with, BUT I do think they would have experience with things such as swords and bows. But you can imagine them with anything, really.

Modern!Reader - Pepper spray and a Taser. Both are mostly ineffective against monsters 💀. In times of desperation, they flash their camera and start screaming really loudly.

Monster!Rollo - A Dagger. He's actually more efficient with any type of weapon, mostly the bow. If anything, it actually hinders him more, but he insists on it because he wants to use the same weapon as you, so he knows what to do if you need help with your daggers. He practices extra so you'll always come to him when you need help with training. As long as no one else teaches you, it'll be okay.

MH!Rollo - A Bow, as he no longer has a reason to practice with daggers. He's still proficient with all types, though. He has a penchant for dipping the tips of his arrows in holy water. He double dips when he knows he's going to see you. He triple dips when he sees you in person. And he sighs when he misses all his shots (Whether that's because you're too fast or if he unconsciously misses, however, is a mystery.)

Human Fellow - His Debt. The first time he met you, out of fear, he started throwing his bills and taxes at you. It worked. Not because you were hurt, but because you were asking why he was giving you his bills. "I... Can't... Pay..." ... He was genuinely amazed you focused on that and not him throwing papers at you.

Human Skully - His photos of you, or more specifically, his photo book. He's actually spiritually hurt whenever he does that to the pictures, apologizing as if they were actually you. Yet, he keeps doing it because in his mind, it means you'll always be there for him and vice versa. Imagine his shock when he's about to hit a monster he came across by chance with his photo book, only for you to take a bite out of it. You really are lovely, aren't you?

Human Neige - A Medkit. Not very proficient, and quite ironic that he uses something meant to heal as a weapon. Sometimes, monsters come through, and the real hunters miss them. You probably had a limb get cut off, and while it would probably come back, he was diligently stitching it back on you. You're about to have a snack of the measly goblin that walks over, but you don't even have the chance before he's closing his kit and smacking it over the head. You pronounce him dead on the scene, and he smiles at you as if he didn't do anything at all...

Human Chenya - His Jacket. He never wears it, save for wrapping it around his hips. So imagine your surprise when you're trying to sleep and you wake up to five other monsters lying on the ground five feet away, with Chenya resting his head on your lap.

Jamil's weapon had me going down a rabbit hole; it's so cool (..＞◡＜..) also, I love the thought of Monster!Reader breaking into bedrooms/watching the MH!Cast and not doing a single thing. Is it stalkerish? Yes. But it also reminds the cast you’re completely capable of taking them when they’re unprepared. You’ve had multiple chances to kill them, yet you haven’t. Really shows both Readers' threat, and their urge to know why you are the way you are.

Surprise, surprise, Jade's was the longest. I hate him so much, oh my goshhhhh (￢_￢)

[theambitiouswoman]

Why you should date someone you admire

Everyone knows you’re the sum of the people you surround yourself with, but somehow that logic goes out the window when it comes to love. We carefully choose friends, mentors, networks that inspire and challenge us, yet when dating, many people default to what feels safe, which tends to be partners they feel superior to, unchallenged by, or comfortable around (this ripples down to unhealed wounds but thats going to have to be a separate post)

But let’s be real here, dating someone you feel “above” might feel safe or even boost your ego temporarily, but in the long run it leads to resentment, boredom and a lack of genuine connection. If you want to grow, evolve and thrive not just in love, but in life you need to date someone you admire

When you date someone who’s ambitious, self aware and evolving (as a few examples), you’re naturally pushed to rise with them. They introduce you to new perspectives, habits, opportunities. You think bigger, dream harder, look better and become more than you were before. The right relationship isn’t just about loving each other, it’s about inspiring each other to grow

Feeling comfortable in a relationship is great, but comfort that keeps you stagnant is complacency in disguise. If everything feels too easy, predictable and safe, you might be avoiding the necessary discomfort that fuels personal evolution. Growth always requires a bit of stretch

Choosing someone you feel superior to is driven by insecurity, not confidence. It’s easier to be with someone who won’t challenge you or outgrow you. But what feels like control or safety now will eventually feel like suffocation, both for you and them

When you’re constantly teaching, leading, or fixing, the relationship stops being a partnership and starts feeling like mentorship or worse, parenting. Nothing kills passion faster than feeling like the responsible one while your partner plays catch up

It’s hard to fully respect someone you secretly see as beneath you. And without respect, real attraction fades. Mutual admiration is what keeps relationships exciting and deepening with time

You wouldn’t surround yourself with lazy, negative, or stagnant friends so why date someone who doesn’t inspire you? The person you choose as a partner has the greatest influence on your mindset, habits and trajectory. I have seen very successful people lose their wealth. Confident people lose their self esteem. Smart people become really dumb, all from choosing a partner they were superior to, just to feel in control, stroke their ego or because they wanted what they wanted and feared rejection. People really do not realize how much their subconscious affects their decisions. And if they aren't doing the work, they most likely end up in these positions

Date someone who inspires you want to evolve not because you’re not enough, but because they remind you of how much more there is for you. Inspire, not force being keyword here. Because you shouldn't try to make someone be better. That is parenting and control and I see people do this a lot and end up regressing in life. Helping someone you care about is not the same as trying to turn someone into who they are not. Especially when it isn't done instinctively by the other person

Healthy love is such a cheat code to life. Seriously if you want to thrive, get into a healthy relationship

If you wouldn’t settle in your career, friendships, or personal goals, why would you settle in love? The thing that has the biggest influence in your life. Date up. And I don't even mean financially or socially but emotionally, intellectually and spiritually ( before anyone makes excuses for these 3, I wrote this whole thing in a gender neutral tone for a reason)

[jburneko]

I have a lot of respect for the people behind Eureka RPG. They have their heads screwed on right about how play operates. (There's one or two places where I think perhaps they're overcompensating for some problems with wider RPG culture, but whatever, those are minor).

If you were to ask me why I play RPGs I'm actually going to talk a lot about story and characters. I'm in it "for the story" but I realized that I don't think I mean the same thing as other people who say the same thing.

Here's my hottest take: I think mass media has really fucked up our ability think about, enjoy and even create stories. Mass media has one purpose: keep you hooked for the next thing.

How much of television fandom is all about speculating about the future? The next episode? The season arc? Predicting "the twists". Identifying "the big bad". Like when was the last time a television fan just went on about one great scene or moment in the episode they just watched. Franchise movies are exactly the same now. The exist primarily to setup the next one, or the spin off. They've imported serial media fandom into the cinema. Novels aren't much better. Go read Big Fiction by Dan Sinykin if you want to understand the homogenization and commodification of literature.

The point is, we've adopted and overly structuralist idea about storytelling. "Acts", "Genre" "Tropes" "Beats" "Reveals" these are all structural assumptions that we assume "must be" arranged in a particular way or it isn't really a story.

We've trained ourselves to look for story everywhere but the present moment. We look forward, "Where is this going?" We look backward, "What is the lore?" We look at the container, "What genre is this?" We conform to expectations instilled by our consumerist culture. Our minds are never on what we are doing.

You don't need to "architect" or "manage" a story if (a) what is happening right now is compelling in an identifiably authentic human terms and (b) the next moment is constructed from the consequences of the current moment.

A scene/encounter/obstacle/whatever-you-want-to-call it can be incredibly dynamic but it's all just sound and fury if the next scene/encounter/obstacle/whatever-you-want-to-call it is fixed in content. If we're just moving from fixed-encounter-to-fixed encounter (even if there's some branching in there) it doesn't matter how dynamic the individual encounters are, they're just performative.

The game must exist and be played in "the now" and the future must be contingent on the outcome of "the now". If each "now" is compelling and follows from the previous "now" the result is a story. That's why rules can never "get in the way of the story". Rules simply constrain the textural dynamics of play.

When the situation is compelling, all possible outcomes of that situation are also compelling. And if that's not the case then here's my hotter take: I suspect that you're dealing with shallow trope-y content that derives most of its value from its conformity to anticipations and expectations. If the rules undermine those expectations then the content is "ruined".

I don't care if our story is a structural mess from a consumer product perspective. We're folk artists, not a corporate mass media writers room.

everyone has somehow got it in their head that the purpose of a TTRPG is to produce a conventionally satisfying novel-like narrative instead of being a game

[miwiheroes]

My Full Thoughts on the S5 Teaser (Part One)

Hi!! This post has taken me a while to make because I've had to kind of wait until my first impressions died down to actually have my predictions make sense. When I first watched it, I was in public and it was super hard for me to post about any of my feelings it was kind of inSANE so I've finally gotten round to talking about it :) Also I am very proud of the fact that all my predictions that I made for the teaser were correct, except for the length of it which was.... WAY longer than I thought. Take my predictions with a grain of salt obviously, but also...consider i was right HEHE

Anyway, so I'm going to take a bunch of shots from the teaser and talk about all of them. There are still some things that I have no clue on, and I usually prefer to wait until a show is out to pass judgement or get angry or super duper excited about things.

Also this is split into two (or three) parts because the photo limit on tumblr hates me!!!!!!! Click here for part two

First of all, I think the aim with ST teasers over the years have inherently been to drum up excitement for the new season using multiple methods:

1) Reminding the general audience (aka viewers they have lost during the 3 year period) why they liked the show 3 years ago.

2) Using any clips, even if they are misleading, to elicit a sense of nostalgia in the viewers who loved the show since 2016.

3) Making sure the clips "barely scratch the surface " (Ross's words) so the show can't be seen as underwhelming due to the trailer being too exciting.

4) Having clips from the season seem like one thing on the surface, when in reality it goes far deeper, making the show itself seem deeper and more exciting.

And with that here we go with my thoughts:

Teaser opens on a clip of Steve doing something - not surprised here, because Steve is, as we all know, a fan fave. This accomplishes the first aim, which is reminding the audience why they liked the show. The majority of the audience love Steve, so seeing him first of all will get them going OOOOOBOY um yeah

As for what's happening in this scene, I think you need the context of the next clips which include Mike's voiceover of the "burn commencing". And the clip straight after, which is of Mike and Lucas biking away from the base. I think this scene with Steve is him cranking the signal antennae thing (idek what its called sue me) to gain better signal so they can talk to the others back at base.

This clips keeps popping up over and over throughout the trailer to build up some tension (count downs and stuff like that always build tension), but as we can see throughout the trailer, the clip is of the same radio decibel recorder, meaning it's just a few clips from the same scene of Steve at the beginning cranking the volume of the radio output. The teaser kind of misleads you into thinking that the decibel meter has something to do with the fire, but in reality I think it's going to be a continuous shot of Steve increasing the volume of output from the radio.

Okay so clearly, these three photos are linked together. The van which Steve was just in is shown driving away from the base, and Lucas and Mike are following behind. This is them going on a mission to burn something, and the van is to keep in contact with the others. I'll talk more about how all the clips kind of link back to this in a sec - also I want to say now that I think this occurs in the first episode. Yep. We already know that the first episode goes straight into action, so I wouldn't be surprised if my theory is correct. If not, well, I still think this happens very early on, for sure in Vol. 1. Ross or Matt i dont remember who, said that most of the clips in the teaser are from Vol 1 and since most of the clips in the trailer are from these scenes - well.

Also in the second photo above we can see El watching the three of them leaving - she's not going with them to fight whatever this is, meaning it can't be part of a climax story if that makes sense lol

Okay then we have the next few clips where Mike's voiceover is being played. I do believe that the voiceover is accurate to the first couple of clips being presented, and that they are trying to burn something or watching someone else burn something (probably the tunnels, more on that in a sec). The others are left behind to wait.

In this photo above, there is a projector.

In this clip from the 2024 BTS video, we can see that Will and Joyce are giving some kind of presentation to everyone involved in this initial mission. We can see here there is Nancy, Jonathan, Dustin, Steve, Lucas and Mike listening to them. My prediction is that Will and Joyce are showing pictures of a map of tunnels beneath Hawkins and showing them where they need to burn. The projector is seen here as well, and it is still lit up in the other picture, meaning its still being used to look at the map. The map is pictured here as well in a later clip in the same scene - showing that this is what Will was talking about to the others.

Another thing I wanted to talk about is the fact that Jonathan and Dustin are seen in this part but not in the van with Steve or on bikes following Steve earlier. This is because I think they're in the van, maybe at the front, driving it while Steve is in the back. Idk could be what happens with them.

Then we have multiple shots of the characters feeling worried for their friends. They're all looking at each other here, and it lines up with the previous picture, but. But - I think some of these clips are out of order than they are in the show, I just have a feeling, seeing as they have different levels of concern and are too quick to be in line with the count down.

Will and El look tense, anticipating something, especially Will - the light's on him, suggesting something is going to happen to him as a result of this mission.

Also this shows why I think this happens in episode 1 - Will is totally fine with everything being burnt, so far, he doesn't know about the true power of his connection to the UD. He doesn't look like a superhero with superpowers yet yknow? Idk how to explain it, but they're also all in their episode 1 clothes so.

In this short clip, Lucas is counting down from 5 to four with his fingers, so it's in time. We can also see from his sleeves that he's wearing the same outfit as he was earlier, indicating that his outfit is being worn over the red one - this is in episode 1 or early in volume 1. (He's also chewing something and its like--why? okay)

I don't really have a clue where they are, my best guess is the hospital or the lab (but the lab is rediscovered again by the group of Jonathan, Dustin, Steve and Nancy later so idk)

These short clips are giving full apocalypse mode love it. I first thought the woman was Robin when I first watched which was..... embarrassing but whatever UMM

As you can see, these are bunkers, military bunkers, used for kids and their families to take shelter due to the earthquakes or the danger that occurs later with Vecna reappearing and the UD leaking further into Hawkins. These clips are meant to deceive the viewer into thinking that they can hear Mike speaking for some reason and that this is occurring during the countdown - nope, not to me.

To me, this is happening after the countdown when something bad happens as result of the burn. Which we will see next.

The lights are flickering a lot here, meaning this happens way after the countdown. Not all this stuff could have happened during the countdown.

Um so as many people have pointed out, Will looks like he is being possessed or some shit here - I don't think this is a clear enough image to actually see what's going on, but he's trembling in the video. What I really want to know is why the others and Joyce can't see it or don't seem to notice. I think - when he faints - that is when the others notice what's happened. A lot of leaks and stuff report that Will is hiding how he feels from everyone and hiding the true nature of his trauma and connection (kinda like the start of S3??) - what if the thing he is hiding is that he is more connected to Vecna than the others believe? And he can't hide it anymore because of the burn?

Super cool slo mo shot - again this feels to me like it happens early on in episode 1. He's been feeling this ever since the end of Season 4, but, connecting to what I said earlier, he's trying to hide it from people, including Mike.

This clip is also clearly to hype people up, because it's a callback to a very clear sign of danger from the previous seasons.

As for where he is - it could very well be high school judging by the age of the people walking past. Again, he goes to high school in the first episode, so this happens as a kind of inciting incident, most likely.

This here happens very early in episode 1 to me. This is either on the way home from school or on the way to school. Judging by the lighting - this is early in the morning.

I think that this happens in the kind of establishing clips that each season always has.

One question though, WHERE THE FUCK R THEY???? Like I've never seen this part of Hawkins with the big ass field, but obviously this is the military base. Why are they going here on the way to school? Or are they even going to school? Idk

As for the group, Mike Will Holly, this proves to me that at least some of the Byers are staying over at Mike's house. If Will lived somewhere else like Hopper's cabin or his old house, then it wouldn't make sense for them to bike together to school or somewhere else. Them biking together also suggests how close they get, and from some leaks that we received earlier this year, they are going to form some subset dnd party including characters Will the Wise, Mike the Brave, and Holly the Heroic. Holly has her own dnd character that she dresses up as and has a necklace for - and since dnd is basically a symbol for Mike and Will's dynamic, it makes sense that Will and Mike would both teach Holly about dnd.

This trio excites me SO MUCH. It implies that Will and Mike growing much closer to Holly that previous seasons means that they will try and find her together, because they were all in a group together so - hey :)

I don't know if this is what Mike, Will and Holly were biking towards, hm. They put this clip straight after the one with the trio, but I think this is deceiving/ just meant to be a shot to show what Hawkins looks like now.

So yes, can see here that this is central Hawkins, judging by the Library and the shops. They are all on lockdown, to protect the residents, and this is the area I believe we find Joyce, Mike, Will and the other kids facing danger later on in the teaser.

This is likely part of those establishing clips that they have at the beginning of each season to update the audience as well.

THIS GATE IS MASSIVE???? Also the gate is coming from the library, judging by the clock tower that can kind of be seen at the edge of the photo. The library is of big significance this season then - and it should be noted that the library is where Will is found at the end of Season 1. I've always wondered - why the library? Why is the library where they find him and not another location that's already been visited many times in the series? Maybe we will finally get the answer.

This is just rude

Scene with Dustin where he goes to visit Eddie's grave maybe before school or after. In my opinion this is after school, because of the lighting and because of another thing with the bullies I'll talk about in a moment.

The Burn in Hell thing is a callback to Season 4's theme of moral panic and scapegoating and how this is present in the conformist town of Hawkins - so that narrative is still present even a year and a half later. Some of them probably blame him for starting the apocalypse. Read my essay in my bio if u want to hear more about my opinions on how Hawkins is like, the metaphor for 80s smalltown American ideas.

What happens in this scene - I think we see Dustin simply going to Eddie's grave to visit him, but in some leaks and BTS, there have been sightings of the basketball jocks going to the same set and visiting Dustin the graveyard. This is probably how he gets bruises later on, as you can see from this photo in the BTS footage. It's not very clear, but I think you can see something red in his nose. :(((

This scene concerns me - I think this happens earlier on in the volume maybe after school or before school. It feels like this could be just before the scene where Lucas goes to the radio station to see the plans that he will enact with Mike.

This scene looks very emotional because of the lighting - at first I thought the lighting could mean hope, but I think it just gives off a sense of peace. Lucas crying and holding her hand seem far too poignant for this to just be him visiting her for no narrative importance other than an emotional scene.

There are two options for why he's crying - either he already knows he's going to do something dangerous (like burning the tunnels n stuff) and he wants her reassurance that she or he is going to be fine. OR it's after a nurse or doctor tells him that they might have to give up on her or that she won't wake up - after all, it's been a year and a half. I think the former is more likely, but doesn't explain why he's clutching her hand making it look like he's willing her to wake up sooner. But the second option doesn't explain why Lucas is holding Max in his arms later on, seemingly alive while not on life support.

These are the people doing the burn? Not sure if this is supposed to mislead the viewer into thinking that the burn that Mike was counting down to is this - either this is a different thing entirely or Lucas and Mike are watching this happen and counting it down to the others.

JOPPERNATIONRISE anyway this looks like a reassurance scene on Hopper's end. He's reassuring her, judging by her facial expression. I do believe this happens in the cabin and probably earlier on in the volume maybe in the first episode, because of Hopper's outfit being so casual compared to later.

Them finding the lab is going to go INSANEE WOO um I really love this group :))) This looks to happen after the groups have split to go their separate ways, meaning this is later on in volume one or maybe even in volume two.

All of them are wearing different outfits than they were earlier, further implying that this is later on in the season. Nancy's outfit especially is the one she wears after she scrubs blood off her hands, meaning it is NOT JONATHANS BLOOD OR STEVES BLOOD stop saying that it is!!! This outfit is one she wears after the pink sweater. They put that blood scene after this one in the teaser to misdirect you probably, or just for some excitement.

OKAY I will be splitting this into two (or three) parts then because I have hit the photo limit :((( The next part will probably be longer as well. The next part will probably come later today or tomorrow idk don't @ me babe <3

Let me know what you think!

[trippinsorrows]

beneath my wings

authors note: as with last time, if you not tryna cry or be upset with me, just go on and skip this. this is technically what happened right before grief.

no tags at all, cause i ain't tryna traumatize anyone again.

words: 1k

warnings: angst

“Hi, mi amor.”

Extended effort is required but oh-so-worth it. Solana’s hand, small and dainty with faint lines from age, reaches across to feel the blue granite, dusting away minimal dirt and other byproducts of nature. It’s well kept, as expected given she knows her oldest three make sure the groundskeeper visits at least twice a week to tidy up.

Even so, it never stops her from doing her own sort of cleaning.

Her fingers moving carefully and slowly, tracing the lettering.

ROMAN TAMASA REIGNS

“THE TRIBAL CHIEF”

BELOVED BROTHER, FATHER, HUSBAND, AND GRANDFATHER

And a set of dates that are far too limiting for the life her husband lived.

There exists not enough space on the stone to adequately and appropriately cover all of that.

Pleased with her brief cleaning, Solana sighs as she moves to sit in the seat placed in front of his grave, allowing her bag, the same one she’s brought every week in the year since he’s passed, to fall to the grassy ground. The bag of essentials.

“I would have been out here a little sooner, but I wanted to make sure everyone got their time.” Solana would never deprive her family of something as special as this. Her smile dips just a bit, filled and weighed down with emotion. “Plus, I think I’ll sit with you a little longer than they did, hmm?”

She always does.

Her visits to see her late husband have always leaned on the lengthier side, one of her children usually calling to check on her—sometimes even driving down to the cemetery to make sure she’s alright.

As alright as one can be in her situation.

Solana clears her throat, blowing out a breath as she reaches down for her bag. Naturally, with age, comes limitations with mobility. In her mid seventies, she still gets around relatively well compared to some of her peers, but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t still have her days.

“Now….” Trailing off, she pulls out her sketchbook and pencil. “Where did we last leave off?” Making a sound, she taps the pencil against the book. “I know. I was telling you about Roro, and I was right.” And somehow, the smile deepens. “Our baby is having another baby.” A pure wave of joy comes over the mother and grandmother, recalling the way her second youngest held onto her as they embraced following the news. “She says this is the last one, but we both know how that goes for our family.”

More often than not, “the last” always ends up being anything but that, with the exception of Lina and her two children. And with her eldest being in her mid forties, Solana doesn’t see that changing any time soon.

“Something tells me Aubrey will be next.” It still baffles her sometimes just how much growth their youngest has had over the past few years. Once the wild party girl that she and Roman expressed concern over countless nights while on the sofa or in bed, Aubrey truly has blossomed into a wonderful young woman, amazing mother, and dutiful wife.

A beautiful transformation, to say the least.

However, it’s a thought connected to something else that replaces Solana’s smile and reflection on the enjoyment of family with something else. Something else still connected to family, though the part she’s always disliked the most.

“You were right, my love.” Solana’s grip on the pencil in hand tightens, page still untouched. “Both RJ and Tavita have officially made known their intent to challenge for the ula fala.”

Even saying it aloud returns that heaviness to her chest, Solana sinking back into the chair. Roman had predicted as much in his last years, and even prior to that, when the boys were barely out of high school.

He saw it from the very beginning, something Solana tried to deny but cannot anymore. No matter how much it pains her.

Brothers. Those two have always been like brothers, so to know that dynamic could possibly change nearly breaks her heart.

Not to mention the strife it will cause between Lina’s children as well, who will, naturally, invoke their birthright to be first in line as heirs to the Bloodline and Cosa Nostra thrones.

Messy.

It will all be so messy, and Solana hates every bit of it.

Especially because she knows exactly what it’s all leading up to.

“You know….” The quietest shift from soft to solemn. “You know how hard it was for me seeing Lina and Tama in Tribal Combat.” To this day, decades later, she can still recall the way her hand, safely gripped in Roman’s, tightened at every kick, every punch, every vicious, brutal blow between the two children she watched grow up playing and fighting with each other. But, never like that.

She’d never seen them in anything like that.

“But, I—I got through it.” The quivering of her bottom lip as she sniffles. “I got through it because I had you with me.” Solana gasps, wiping at her eyes. “And now, I don’t.”

It’s been a gradual realization over the year since Roman’s death. Solana realizing just how heavy and deep his loss has been for her. For their entire family, but selfishly, sometimes she feels like hers is deeper and harder than her children and grandchildren. They have their life partners and boyfriends and girlfriends to lean on. That hole doesn’t exist within them like it does within her.

Solana held Roman’s hand the night he passed, kissed it and told him that it was okay, that he didn’t have to hold on for her anymore, that she would be okay, that she wouldn’t be alone.

And, she’s not.

But, God does she feel it some days.

The emptiness of the bed that doesn’t creak under his weight.

The walks by herself with only security escorting her, because he doesn’t accompany her anymore.

The occasional calls to the pharmacy to call in his medicine that are now limited to only when she needs to call in her own medicine. Not his. Not theirs.

Because there is no more theirs.

It’s just her.

It’s just…..her.

[angels-hideaway]

𝐼𝓉’𝓈 𝒩𝑜 𝑀𝓎𝓈𝓉𝑒𝓇𝓎 II

detective Caitlyn x fem! Intern! Reader

part one

summary: The serial killer case is closed, so Caitlyn insists on celebrating with you. To satisfy your own curiosity, you try to get a grasp on how your brooding mentor really feels about you.

3.3kI think

a/n: releases after this are some of the last requests, bloodlust V, some silly oneshots (some smutty) and yeah. I’m sort of flopping rn though, but it okay 😋

You were sitting in Caitlyn’s office chair, playing with one of her more expensive cigars when she entered her office. “Good morning.” She seemed quite chipper today. “Did something good happen?” You leaned over her desk, watching your mentor smile to herself as she loosened her tie. “You remember that suspect Detective Lanes and I interrogated?”

You stood up as she came to sit in her chair, swiping her cigar from you. “Yes?” Caitlyn Swung her legs up and onto her desk. “I’m one hundred percent sure that’s him. Another one for the books.” With a prideful expression, she lit her cigar. “I deserve something nice, don’t you think?”

“Yes, that’s amazing!” This is the best mood you’ve ever seen her in. “Hm, I think we should celebrate. Join me for a drink this evening?” You held your breath. “Here?”

“No silly, a bar. A club.” She smiled at you lazily. You could float from happiness. “Yes of course!” Caitlyn raised an eyebrow at your enthusiastic response, but shook her head and chuckled. “You’re too predictable. As your mentor, I recommend learning how to do a pokerface.”

You were practically buzzing the rest of the day. A night out with Detective Kiramman after she solved another case. She seemed a lot more easygoing now. That killer must have been weighing her down. You excitedly finished the last of the paperwork Caitlyn gave you, and headed back to her office. The sun was down, and Caitlyn and you were some of the last people at the office. “Are you ready to go?” Caitlyn asked, smiling at your excited demeanor. “Yes ma’am. I got everything that you asked for done.” Caitlyn pulled on her coat and passed you your own. “Good girl. Now, let’s go enjoy ourselves.” She caught a taxi for the two of you, and even picked the bar herself. “This one’s good.”  

“If you say so. I don’t know which places are best around here.” Caitlyn smiled. “It’ll be my treat then.”

You and Caitlyn arrived at the bar, and she was quick to recommend you her favorite drinks. “Oh- and this one too. It’s a little strong, but you can handle it.” A few drinks in, you were laughing at everything she said. Caitlyn loosened up too, and seemed to be enjoying your attention. Especially those eyes you kept staring at her with.

 “Really? What happened next?” You leaned in closer as Caitlyn told you a story of an operation she took place in. “Well, that’s when I busted in there with my finger on the trigger. Stopped the robbery before it could even happen.” Your wide eyed stare made Caitlyn’s chest tighten. “Wow! You’re so cool Ms. Caitlyn.” Your mentor was blushing now. Whether it was from your constant flattery or her drink was a mystery to you. “Enough about me… what about you?” Caitlyn asked, sipping her drink while keeping her eyes on yours. 

“Me? Well, I’m a student, I’ve always loved reading about crime and detective work…the articles about you are my favorite.” Caitlyn chucked, put her drink down to cover your hand with hers, and squeezed a little. She looked tipsy. “What else? You’re a pretty girl. Do you have a boyfriend?” Your heart stopped. She was looking at you with sultry, confident eyes that made you nervous. “No…I’m not in any relationship right now.” Caitlyn squeezed your hand tighter, and sipped her drink with her other hand. “That’s for the best is what I think. I’d hate if my intern was distracted with someone else…” You couldn’t believe this was happening to you. Was she flirting with you? Could this all just be because of the alcohol? You hoped not. “Ahaha…yeah, I can’t get distracted.” 

“You said you were unmarried, but do you have a boyfriend?” It was your turn to ask. “No. I’m completely and utterly single.” Caitlyn winked. “I should stop before I’m too drunk. I have to get you home after all.” She moved her hand to ask for the bill with a wave. “I wouldn’t want to trouble you Ms. Caitlyn. My apartment complex is a little far from this place, and it’s already late. I’m sure I’d be fine on my own!” You tried to assure her, but Caitlyn simply shrugged her shoulders. “Stay with me then.” 

Huh?

“W-what?”

“Stay at my place. I have room, and you’re right, it’s late. Far too late for a young lady to go home alone.” Caitlyn stood up and put her jacket on after paying. “Well? Don’t make me leave you behind.” You followed after her, and got into another cab. “Where do you live?” You asked, trying to break the silence. “Just down this street. My complex is right there.” Caitlyn pointed to a tall building in the distance. It was a nice looking building, definitely more expensive than your shabby place. The cab stopped at the entrance, and Caitlyn tipped the driver handsomely.

The waiting room alone told you what kind of place it was. The shiny marble flooring clicked against your shoes, and the faint sound of music came from a fancy restaurant that was in house.

Once you arrived in Caitlyn’s apartment, you were in awe. It was a cozy, yet sophisticated space. Caitlyn took off her coat and hung it on the coat rack. You flinched when you felt her hands on your shoulders, but you relaxed when you realized she was just taking off your jacket. “So, where would you like me to stay?” You tried to start a normal conversation, but your heart was beating incredibly fast. You were standing in your idols apartment, and you were staying the night. Anything could happen.

 Caitlyn hummed in thought. “Hmm, it depends on what you’re comfortable with. I wouldn’t mind you in my bed. I have the space. The couch is also an option if that makes you uncomfortable.” You thought for a minute. “Can I sleep in your bed?” Your drunk mentor smiled coyly, her cheeks a soft pink. “Yes that’s fine. I’ll get you something to sleep in.” You followed Caitlyn into her bedroom, and accepted the old button down shirt she gave you.

You changed in Caitlyn’s bathroom, and when you came out, she was already in her bed. Her hair was down, and the loose, silk tank top she wore left little to your raging imagination. You slid onto the bed next to her, but kept some distance between you two. You were too excited to try and sleep when Caitlyn turned the lights out. Caitlyn turned around to face you. “You’re excited. It’s too easy to read you. I know I’m like a celebrity to you.” Her voice was slurred and accent thicker. She wore a crooked grin. “Uhm…” was all you could say to her putting you on the spot. Answering yes would be weird. Caitlyn came closer, and adjusted the duvet so it covered the both of you. “If you get cold, I’d be happy to warm you up.” She poked your nose playfully, and laughed. Drunk Caitlyn was really something.

You almost had a heart attack when you felt her hands slowly crawl around your waist, and pull you against her. “S’been so long since somebody’s warmed my bed…excuse how unprofessional I’m being. You’re just too adorable not to cuddle…” she spoke in your ear. The scent of alcohol was on her breath. Would she remember any of this in the morning? “Intern?…I think I’m drunk…” Something you already knew. Caitlyn continued.

 “Wanted to show off to you and drank too much…”

“You wanted to show off?” Why would she want to do that? “Hmm, wanted to impress you… live up to that image of me you have in your head. Where I’m mature and cool. It’s silly, I know.”

“No…that’s okay. You already live up to that.” Caitlyn’s cheeks were flushed. “Really?” You nodded. “You’re so sweet… so soft…” she pulled you even closer. She was so close. “You look so nervous…Do I make you nervous?” She giggled softly. “I meant what I said about you back there. You’re a pretty young lady.” One of her hands maneuvered down to rest on your thigh. You were screaming on the inside. “Thank you.” You managed to say. Caitlyn yawned, and rubbed your bare thigh. She was asleep almost instantly after that. You were a mess of nerves and heat. After calming yourself by aligning your breaths with Caitlyn’s, you went to sleep.

Your eyes opened slowly, getting used to the sunlight. When you looked to your right, Caitlyn’s face was right in front of you. Startled, you sat up. She was still asleep, and the sun was rising. You took the time to admire her. You really shared a bed with Detective Kiramman. You’re actually sitting in her massive apartment right now. 

You leaned in over her face, which looked so peaceful as she slept. Her lips were slightly parted, and her hair was sprawled like a halo around her head. You were a mere inches from her face when her eyes fluttered open. “Good morning…” She said, causing you to jump back. “Sorry! I don’t know what I was doing…” It was your turn to ramble as Caitlyn sat up, stretching her arms. “Just admiring me as usual I see.” Caitlyn shook her head, smiling at your behavior. Her hair fell naturally over her shoulders and face, and you were stunned. She was really beautiful. 

“What?…” Caitlyn tilted her head. “Don’t tell me I said something strange to you last night. When I’m drunk I ramble my ass off…”  Oh she said some things to you, but you weren’t about to tell.

“No, I just got distracted…” You stood up, and stretched your arms up yourself.

“You’re not hungover? You are a little drunk last night.” Caitlyn shook her head. “No. I don’t get them often unless I’m completely wasted. I can hold my alcohol well.” 

“I see.” You fiddled with the buttons of her shirt that you wore. “I didn’t…do anything strange, did I? I don’t get hungover, but I do tend to forget things.” Caitlyn looked a little worried. “Nothing physical?” 

“No! Everything was fine! I mean, you were a little cuddly, but that’s no issue.” Caitlyn’s face slowly grew red. “I- sorry…” her bashful side was cute. “Thank you for letting me stay the night with you, Ms. Caitlyn.”

“Call me Caitlyn.” She said suddenly. “Huh?”

“Miss sounds too formal. Don’t you think so? We’ve grown closer.” Caitlyn smiled at you. This is the most casual she’s ever been with you. “Uhm, alright Caitlyn…” 

“No time to waste. Get dressed and we’ll head to work together.” You tried to hide your grin. You felt like you were a married couple, but that was your delusion talking. Your delusions didn’t go unnoticed by your mentor. “Please stop staring off into space with that little smile of yours…” She went back to her usual stern demeanor to scold you. “Sorry!” You said, focusing on getting dressed.

In the office, the day went on as usual. Collecting Caitlyn’s mail, and making her coffee. Today, she was just filling out more paperwork regarding the case she solved. There was definitely something between you two. Her confessions last night had to mean something. She thought you were pretty, and even asked if you had a boyfriend. Surely, it wasn’t just the alcohol, but monotone mood of the following day made you feel a little hopeless on the chances.

When you got home that evening, you made a plan. If you wanted to really catch her eye, you had to act like it. See if that night was really only the alcohol talking, or if she really meant it. You went to your closet, and took out your outfit for the next day. A white, form fitting button down, a pencil skirt that ended more than a couple inches above your knees, and some sheer, black pantyhose. You found some heels to match too. “Well, here goes nothing.” 

The next morning, you teased your hair a little more than usual, and put on some bolder makeup. You took a glance at yourself in your mirror, and left for the day. 

Entering the office that morning was a little embarrassing. You wanted Caitlyn’s eyes on you, but you didn’t account for the fact that others would also see you putting in a lot more effort than normal. The occasional glance from another detective or even other interns made your face feel hot. You couldn’t sweat though. Not after all of this work. You stopped in the mail room to get Caitlyn’s mail, made her coffee black as usual, and headed to her office. 

“Caitlyn? I’m here.” You knocked on the door. When she came to answer, you could see her expression change upon taking you in. After an awkward second or two of her trying not to stare, she stepped aside to let you in. “Good morning…” is all she said. “So, how’s your morning been?” You followed your pacing mentor around the office. Her face was a little flushed. “It’s been fine.” She answered, and turned around to face you. Her eyes floated downward to your chest, glancing at the few buttons you left open. She cleared her throat, and averted her gaze. “Can you pick something up for me at the front desk?”

“Oh, sure.” You were about to leave when she pulled you back by your shoulder. “Wait a moment.” She turned you around, and buttoned up your shirt all the way. “There. You may go.” You delayed for a moment from the surprise, but went to fetch her papers.

When you were making your way back to Caitlyn’s office, another intern stopped you. A young man. “Hey, you’re interning under Kiramman right? I’m-”

“Intern.” Caitlyn’s voice interrupted the young man trying to introduce himself to you. Maybe you took to long? “My office, now please.” With a quick apology to the young man, you followed Caitlyn into her office.

The door clicked shut, and Caitlyn rounded back to stand in front of you, trapping you between her desk and herself. “All dressed up today I see… were you hoping to catch somebody’s eye? I’d say that young man was enticed.” She noticed. There was a small twinge of something in her voice. Jealousy maybe? You squeezed your pantyhose clad thighs together. “No?” The nervousness in your voice betrayed you. Caitlyn leaned in closer, resting one hand on her desk. “You don’t seem so sure.” Her hand slowly moved to stroke one of your legs. “You’re certain this wasn’t for anyone’s…enjoyment?”

Your lips felt like they were glued shut. She just kept rubbing up and down your leg so tantalizingly. “Yes.” Your response was barely above a whisper. She hummed. Her eyes took in your new attire, but she seemed particularly interested in your pantyhose.

“For a moment, I thought this was for me. I hope you don’t mind that I’m enjoying it.” She backed up, crossed her arms. You knew she didn’t believe your excuses. Caitlyn knew that you were trying to get her attention. “You should wear pantyhose more often. I like them.” That’s the last thing she said before leaving the room.

 So she liked pantyhose. 

It would be some time before she got back. Another meeting. You spent that time cleaning her office again. You were sifting through some papers on her desk when one of them caught your eye. A case file for a mysterious death. While you waited for Caitlyn to come back, you read through it and did some theorizing of your own.

“I’m back…” Caitlyn came through the door looking exhausted. “I hate meetings… there’s a reason I don’t take you to shadow me.” She makes her way over to you, who was still intently going through the case file. “Helping yourself I see… that’s my new case. A mysterious death. Murder or suicide?” She wanted to know what you came up with.

“Sorry. I got curious. After looking through it though, some things are quite obvious. It’s definitely a murder. The victims hands are scratched, and there are signs of a struggle everywhere. Bits of carpet in her nails, and shallower wounds around the fatal one…”

Caitlyn hummed in approval. “Good girl…” She pat your shoulder. “Now get up. This is my chair.”

“Sorry!” You stood and moved out of the way. Caitlyn sat down and stretched before patting her thigh. “Well? You want to keep going through it don’t you?” When you realized what she was implying, your palms grew sweaty. “Oh- alright.” You sat down on her lap, and leaned over her desk. “So, when I went through the files myself last night, I discovered…” You were not paying attention to anything she was saying. The feeling of her thigh beneath you had your mind spinning. Caitlyn was acting as if she did nothing strange, and kept going on about possible suspects, and the weapon that was found. Maybe she didn’t see this as suggestive at all.

Caitlyn’s arm suddenly moved around your waist to rest on your thigh. That pulled you back into reality with a jolt. “Are you paying attention?” Caitlyn asked. “You seem skittish. Would you like some water?” She was grinning. This was definitely on purpose. You took a deep breath to steady yourself. “No, I’m uhm, I’m alright.”

“If you say so.” Caitlyn shrugged and continued her miniature lecture. She was playing with you like how a cat would a mouse.

“Oh, apologies. I lost track of the time.” Caitlyn said. Hey voice was breathy with tiredness. “We best head home now. I’ll take the cab with you.” You got off of her lap. “Okay. Thank you.” She smiled. “It’s no issue at all. After all, I have to take care of you.” Caitlyn rested her hand on your head and gave it a few pats. 

You both walked down the street, searching for a cab when Caitlyn started to speak again. “So, will you dress up for me again tomorrow? I have to say, it was quite the pick-me-up.” There was no use in trying to hide it now. “If you really liked it…” your voice trailed off suggestively. Caitlyn stopped a cab and opened the door for you. “Don't take it the wrong way, you’re pretty without the lipstick and pantyhose.” Caitlyn corrected. You felt your cheeks heat up from her complement. “Thank you.” You said with a bashful laugh. 

Once you got to your apartment, you stepped out of the cab and were surprised to see Caitlyn get out too. “I’ll walk you.” She said. The ride up the elevator was silent. Your hands were clutched together, and Caitlyn was smoking a cigarette. Your complex wasn’t the kind to have rules against it. The doors chimed and opened, and you and Caitlyn stepped out. You dug around your purse for your keys, which Caitlyn watched with a small smile. Once you got the door unlocked, you stepped inside.

“Well, goodnight Caitlyn. Thank you for walking me home.” She took a slow drag into the night. “It’s no problem…” she lingered, and you stayed at the door. Something made you not want to close it. Something made her not want to leave. “Wait.” Caitlyn suddenly leaned in. The scent of smoke and cologne filled your nose. Caitlyn looked like she was considering saying something, but she didn’t. “Never mind. Sleep well.” She turned around, and left. 

How odd.

She was hiding something from you. That much was obvious. It was getting late, so you closed the door and got ready for bed. There wasn’t much time left on your internship, and classes would start again soon. What may happen between then and now was a mystery to you. 

Taglist: @starryeyes-7 @caitlynsbathwater @halle5s @riotstemple29 @mxchi-mxxn @thinkviolets @commanderraccoon @madalinee @gwscloq @seisei18 @paigeilicous @cottagegirlworld-blog @cenizajskp @kittymrtnezz69 @jiryelle @vivienneswhispers @all-things-lilac @marve1stranger @trulysapphic @b7ue8erry @poeticrenaissance @whatthefuckisthisapppppp @girlsatourbest @st0nerlesb0 @butchpuppyy @yearningandstillnotlearning @eyehatesex @sunsetzzzzzzz @kaylovesmatcha @venuswarmlight @mellowdreamlandpost-blog @ggutpunch @detergentclog @sillypuppy77 @abbyandcaitlover @sevikas-whore @rainfalls77 @dvrkhcld @missaerys @goiabadaisa @ispendwaytolongonhere

[loceiswhereyouleastexpectit]

Soon enough - Chapter 7

Word count 1.3K

a/n: I was so happy about asw that i totally forgot to write anything. Here's a little something to sooth you over. Next chapter is gonna be Party P so be ready. Let me know your thoughts and any words of encouragement are greatly appreciated. :)

Chapter 7 

Paige POV

Stepping foot outside of Azzi’s room felt like one of the hardest things Paige had to do all week. The picture of Azzi’s black dress was imprinted into her mind. Paige knew that everyone would we watching her but she knew she would be watching her best friend the entire night.

I have to look good. 

Paige looked at her phone and decided to FaceTime Brittany, her stylist. She picked up on the first ring. 

“Hey my favorite client, what’s up, shouldn’t you be getting ready Paige?” 

“Yes, yes I should but I need a new outfit, don’t kill me please.”

“Paigeeee your so predictable, I packed about 12 other outfits just in case. They should be in your closet.”

“Thank you thank you thank you” Paige walked over to her closet and took a look inside. There were some pieces she had never even seen but knew would work well with Azzi’s outfit. “OK wait, which one do you think would go well with black” she said facing the camera to the closet 

“Well black on black is always a good choice. One of the black suits have some sparkles on it. I think that one would look good for the actual draft, but for the orange carpet, I think maybe the copper one.”

Paige looked at both and knew her stylists knew what she was talking about. “Thank you so much.”

“Paige,” Brittany said after a beat “Whose wearing black?”

“Azzi,” she said shyly. 

“Rightttt, well maybe since you guys are coordinating outfits, you should just date?” Brittany joked, not really joking though. She had seen Paige fall in love with Azzi, waiting for the day where she would be styling Paige for there wedding. 

“Stop, she’s my best friend.” Paige protested with not much effort.

“Right, ‘best friend”, anyway Paige I have to go but have fun tonight, you deserve it. Go wings!” And with that she hung up. 

————————————————————————————————

Paige was able to get ready just in time before all the rookies were supposed to leave. She felt like herself in her fit and made a mental note to send Brittany something after the draft for always making her feel like herself. 

Before she got into the mini van, Azzi texted her asking to see her before she leaves to take some pictures. Paige was nervous to say the least. What if Azzi thought I looked bad? I can’t be seen with her if I dont look good. 

Azzi decided that she would meet her at her room, knowing that all the media was already there to take all the photos they liked. Azzi walked into her room with all the confidence in the world, looking as beautiful as ever. Her hair was glossy and straight, something she had only done on special occasions. This day was special for her, Paige thought. 

Paige got up from where she was sitting and made her way to Azzi. Before she had time to compliment Azzi’s final look Azzi already took the words right out of her mouth. “Wow, you look amazing.” A light blush appeared on Paige’s face. She cleared her throat, trying not to give away her clear nerves. 

“Thank you, you look- wow, I mean gorgeous.” Paige stammered, trying to not look a fool in front of everyone. 

“OK Paige and Azzi, we want to do some standing and sitting ones but we have to be quick. Paige you leave in 5” someone from the media stated. 

Five more minutes before her whole word changes. 

The girls took there photos, liking how they turned out. Paige specifically saw one where she was checking out Azzi, hoping that that one never gets out to anyone. She just prayed Azzi didn’t notice either. 

Paige turned to the younger girl, taking in all of her beauty. She would love to just spend the day with her but she knew that her life changed today. Tonight, she would have a different team, coach, fans, city. None of which where attached to Azzi. This time next month, she would be in the WNBA playing her first game. Without Azzi. 

“Hey,” Azzi said bringing her hands to Paiges face, “What wrong, you spaced out on me.”

“Nerves.” 

“Paige, Ms. nonchalant final boss, you have nothing to be nervous about. Im so proud of you.” Azzi said, but there were tears in her eyes. One slowly fell. Paige noticed immediately. She whipped the tear away, knowing Azzi didn’t want to ruin her make up. 

“Hey, its ok. What’s wrong Azzi?” Paige knew that Azzi didn’t cry very much. She always kept her emotions in check. 

“I just, miss you”.

At that Paige laughed, knowing that Azzi wouldn’t miss her nearly as much as she would. “Im right here, im not gone yet. Promise, nothing that happens today changes this, us.”

Both had there foreheads connected to one another. But the moment was quickly over. 

“OK bueckers, time to go. Everyone is waiting on you,” her agent said impatiently. 

Both girls took a second to back away from one another, heart beating out of Paige’s chest. 

“Ill see you there,” Paige said quietly. “You look great. She took one more glance at the girl, soaking her in. “Bye” she said with a smirk. 

“Bye.” Azzi said with a soft smile. 

———————————————————————————————

All the rookies had finally made it to the orange carpet. Doing press, interviews, and taking pictures, everyone was so occupied. But in between all the chaos, Paige was able to sneak in a few glances and pictures with Azzi. 

Azzi POV

This has to be the most stressful night of my life. 

Azzi was trying to keep in a cool, but she just kept thinking about Paige. First, she had to try not to stare at her too much or she might faint. And, she needed to keep her emotions in check, trying not to make the night about Paige leaving, all while wearing heels. 

Paige was taking pictures on the orange carpet again, this time with family and friends. All Azzi would of was stare. To Azzi, Paige was the picture of perfection. Her long blonde hair, curled perfectly, with the suit that enhanced all her best features, mainly her arms. It was hard to keep her eyes away from blonde, but to Azzi’s defense, she tried, really hard.

KK walked up to Azzi with her noticing, “HEY.” KK yelled in Azzi’s ear, scaring the girl. 

Azzi quickly turned towards KK, not even knowing she was next to her. “Shit you scared me, hey.”

“Girlypop I called your name like ten times, but someone was too busy looking at a certain blonde” KK said wiggling her eyebrows. 

“Stopppp,” Azzi said with a little shove. “She looks good, can’t I just look”.

“I mean yes you can but you don’t have to 24/7.” Kk said laughing. 

“Hey guys come take a picture” Paige said inturputing there conversation. 

“You first princess” KK said shoving her towards Paige. Azzi turned around narrowing her eyes a KK, knowing what she way doing. She walked up towards Paige, trying to look as calm as ever. But the sparkle in the Paige’s blue eyes took her breath away. She didn’t even know what to say, so she just smiled towards the camera. 

“You ok, your tense.” Paige said through her teeth. 

“Im good.” Azzi said, already taking her hand off of Paige’s back, trying to make some distance between her and the blonde. 

“All good?” she asked the cameramen. They all nodded and she turned to Paige really quick, “I have more interviews to do, but ill see you at the table.” She said already walking away from the blonde, not waiting for a response. There was a sad look in Paiges eyes, but Azzi didn’t have the time to dissect what that meant. She needed to leave, get some time away from those beautiful blue eyes before she does something stupid. 

[alloftheimagines]

abby anderson | positive

masterlist

words: 2.8k warnings: 18+, pregnant!reader, hurt/comfort, discussions surrounding reproductive care including abortion, angst, supportive abby (she's gonna be a dad!), peeing i guess request: Hiiiii!!! I’ve never requested something before so idk how to do this but I was thinking of WLF Abby x pregnant reader. Where readers old partner was just the worst and still picks on reader even though they aren’t together and she avoids him at all costs. But Abby sees and starts to look out for her and just falls in love then boom baby comes and Abby and reader have their little happy family.

i'll make this multiple parts if you guys would like to see more!

Abby feels like she hasn’t seen you in weeks. Really, she saw you on patrol that morning, but you were hyperfocused on the task at hand, not up for your usual small talk. And then she saw you arguing with that asshole ex of yours, Dean, in the canteen, but by the time she was on her way over, you’d stormed off. You’ve been MIA since, and your relationship isn’t her business, but she's your best friend: she won't be able to sleep until she knows you're okay.

So, just after midnight, she searches the arena for you, food in hand because she’s worried you might not have eaten. You’ve haven’t had much of an appetite recently, and she wonders if maybe there’s something else wrong. Something she wants to fix if you’ll just let her. 

You aren’t anywhere. She checks the kennels, night watch, asks around all over. And then she thinks of that place you showed her a few weeks ago. A building a few blocks down whose missing walls allowed a beautiful view of the city, especially at sunset. You’d taken Abby there on the anniversary of her dad’s death, a place where the two of you could sit without your usual duties burdening you. And despite Abby’s grief, it had been one of the most beautiful evenings Abby had experienced in a long time, mostly because she'd never noticed how bright your eyes could shine in the sunlight, or how soft your voice got when you were tired and without your usual armour.

As predicted, there is where she finds you. You sit a little too close to the edge of the exposed building for her comfort, legs dangling over the side and silhouette lit by the waning moon. 

She breathes a sigh of relief, then whispers a “knock knock” to make herself known. She doesn't want to invade the place that is yours. Just wants to know why you're hiding.

You twist, and she sees tears gleaming on your cheeks. They break her heart. 

“Y’okay?” she asks gently. 

“Yeah, fine.” You wipe them away quickly, turning back to the view of the starlit city. Abby doesn’t dare sit so close to the edge, so she presses her back against the wall adjacent, getting a better view of you. You don’t say anything. For a while, neither does she. 

“Aren’t you scared of toppling to your death so close to the edge?” she finally asks, if only to get you talking. She risks a glimpse of the ground below, too far away from here, and hugs her knees closer to her chest. You must be four stories up, if not five, the office building tilting precariously in on itself. Vines eat at the walls and every so often, plaster cracks somewhere above, lightly dusting the two of you. 

You smile softly, but it doesn’t meet your eyes. Usually, you would tease her — Isaac’s biggest baddest wolf, afraid of heights? Last time, you’d held her hand after saying it, as though afraid she’d take it personally otherwise. Or maybe you’d just wanted to help her feel safe. It had worked. 

“Honestly, that doesn’t sound like the worst thing in the world right now,” you reply now. 

Abby’s brows furrow despite the attempted lightness in your tone. “What did he say to you? I’ll set Alice on him. Or, better yet, I’ll kill him my fucking self.”

More tears. Yeah, she’s definitely going to do it herself. And she’s going to make it slow and painful, too. 

Honestly, she doesn’t know what you ever saw in Dean. Whenever asked, you always said it wasn’t serious, just an accident that kept happening, adrenaline-fuelled and convenient. You could have anybody at the base to blow off steam with after a fight, though. You choose him. 

When she is right there. 

When you don’t reply, just press your trembling lips together, she leans forward to take your hand despite the fear that the wind whipping through the ruined walls brings. When it comes to you, she’s already falling. Maybe it’s that she should be scared of. 

“Hey," she soothes. "Talk to me. What’s going on?”

“Abby…” you whisper. 

“I’m here. What is it?”

“I think I’m pregnant.” 

She freezes, her eyes big and round and glued to your face. Those were the last words she expected to hear. Something inside of her sinks — maybe that last shred of hope that you might finally notice her as something other than a friend. 

“He told me… I thought we were being safe. He told me we were. He fucking lied.”

“Shit. That’s why you’ve been sick recently." She should have noticed. Encouraged you to get checked out. "How late are you?”

“Honestly, I don’t know.” Your face crumples. “We’ve been so busy with the Scar shit recently that I haven’t been paying attention. It’s been… months since we were last together, though, which means I’m… I might already be…" You whimper. "Abby, I can’t do this.”

“Hey,” she soothes, shuffling closer, heights be damned. Her leg brackets your back as she cups your face, though really, she has no idea how to make this better. “I’ve got you, okay? You’re alright.”

“I don’t know what to do.” Your sob cracks her heart open. “He’s already made it clear that I’m in this alone.”

“No, sweetheart, you’re not alone. I’m here. I’ll be here, whatever you want to do.”

You clutch onto the arm she throws around you like it’s a life jacket and you’re sinking, the crook of her elbow catching your tears as you dip your head. She smooths down your hair, pulls you closer, closer, closer. You’re shuddering so hard against her that she thinks maybe you’ll be the one to send the building to the ground. 

“We can talk to Nora, right? See what our options are?”

“I don’t know if I’m ready to… to even…” 

“I know. I can’t even imagine what you must be feeling. We don't need to decide right now.”

“I’m such a fucking idiot, Abby.” Finally, you turn to her. “I never should have trusted him. I never should have gone anywhere near him.”

“No. Don’t do that. This isn’t your fault.” Her other hand traces the knots of your back. She’s never felt this helpless before, like there’s absolutely nothing in the world she can do to make it right. It’s not likely that the medic tents have some family planning clinic going on. When people get pregnant in the WLF, they have a baby or lose a baby, but she’s never seen or heard of other options. 

Still, what she does know is that pregnancy tests still exist. Mel recovered a bunch from an old pharmacy on their last run together.

“How about we take this one step at a time?” Abby urges delicately. “We need to know for sure before we figure out the rest.”

“I’m not ready to go to Nora. I can’t.”

“You don’t need to. I know where we can get tests.”

Finally, you look at her, some hope returning to your gaze. It makes the fact that she’s shaking like a leaf above the city half-worth it.

Abby schools her expression to the calmest one she can muster, knuckle dipping over your brow to brush a strand of hair from your face. “Whenever you’re ready to know, we’ll do it together, okay?”

And for a moment, the fear wavers, moulds into something else. She thinks maybe she’s done something right, and thank fuck, because seeing you hurting so badly is killing her. She drags her touch over your cheekbone, down to your jaw, thumb resting gently on your lower lip. 

You lock eyes with her in the moonlight and decide, “I need to know now.”

She is more than happy to peel you away from the edge of the building, even if you are heading straight for another precipice. One she might not be able to follow you over — but she’ll sure as hell try.

***

Abby turns her back and leans against the sink as you pee. When you’ve lived together this long, modesty is no longer a thing, and that connection is maybe why she’s managed to get you home without breaking. When you’re done, you set the test down on the water tank and wash your hands, your hip knocking against hers. You look at her in the grimy mirror and see all the concern she has for you, enough to floor you. Of course, you knew you could rely on her. That she cared. 

You just didn’t know it could be this much. 

She doesn’t have to take this on, you think. It’s your mistake. Your problem to deal with. But she takes the pregnancy test and then your hand, leading you into the living area where you can sit on the sinking couch comfortably. The test is placed on the coffee table. You have no idea where she got it: likely stole it from medical supplies downstairs. 

“Do you ever think about having kids?” you’re brave enough to ask, if only to pass a few excruciating seconds otherwise spent in silence. “You’re weirdly good at this whole emotional support thing.”

Her freckled nose scrunches. “Not exactly on my list of priorities, but thanks, I guess.”

You can imagine it, though. A mini Abby running around base, inheriting all of her beauty and brute strength. Not now, not when she’s so young, but one day. You always think she’ll make a good leader, and she’s proven tonight she can be tender, too. Nurturing. She’d make a much better mom than you.

Abby clasps her hands together over her knees, eyeing the test. “I had a scare with Owen once.”

“Yeah?” You didn’t know that. She’d never told you. The two of you have been friends since the Fireflies, but closer in the last year or two. Being soldiers seemed to have the opposite effect than intended: it has buffed you down into something gentle, at least around each other. When there is a threat, you match each other’s fierceness, but at the end of the day comes gentle whispers of whether you want to shower first, or would you like the light left on or off, or did you eat yet? Cleaning blood from one another’s skin. Sometimes crowding into one bed because the things you see, whether Infected or Scars or the deeper tragedies of your past, can haunt. 

She toys with a hangnail as she continues: “I wasn’t ready, but I think it made me realise that one day I might be. It got me thinking a lot about how lucky I was to have been raised by my dad. He was so good to me. So kind, y’know? I’d like to be able to give a kid that same care.” 

You forget, for a moment, that your future is about to be decided by a thirty-year-old pregnancy test that might not even work, a soft smile curving on your lips. “They'd be a really lucky kid, Abs.”

She looks over her shoulder at you, face all soft edges. You’re one of the only people who gets to see her this way, not just the intimidating fighter Isaac favours. “I wouldn’t mind if it was yours I got to take care of instead. If you are pregnant, and you go through with this, I’ll help you. Through all of it. As much as you want me to.”

“I couldn’t ask that of you.”

“You wouldn’t need to. You’re my best friend, and getting to love a tiny version of you… well, it doesn’t sound so bad.”

“You say that now, but what about when it’s screaming and pooping. And then…” You gulp. “What about when we have to keep it safe? Through war and the infected?” Your everyday involves watching families get torn apart, or stumbling across memories of people who no longer exist in ruins that used to be homes. You can barely handle the fear that comes with watching Abby throw herself on the frontlines everyday, never mind the one that might exist if you were to have a baby. 

But you know already there is no if. You don’t need the pregnancy test. You feel it. Bloated stomach, sickness every day, sensitivity to smells, body not yours anymore. The test is just the thing you need to accept it. 

Something that feels just a tad easier than before when Abby leans back to take your hand. “I can’t think of anybody who would protect their kid more ferociously than you. Jesus, you’ve done it for me more times than I count. When someone you care about is in danger, you know exactly how to save them.”

A warmth floods your chest. You love her and have never been more certain of it. In fact, you only started sleeping with Dean at all to get her out of your head, which didn’t work. It felt like you were betraying your friendship when you first started seeing Abby in that way, taking note of her toned body and husky morning voice. So you ran the only way you could, with a guy who was more than willing to put out. 

Maybe this is karma. 

“I don’t know if I deserve you,” you say. 

“Shut up,” she jests in a way only a best friend could. And yet you’re planning your future like you are suddenly more than that. Like her fate rests on that pregnancy test, too.

You look back at it. Suddenly it is not the most intimidating thing in your world. Suddenly, it is something that offers a flicker of hope in you. “Do you think it’s been long enough?”

“Yeah.”

You take a deep breath. She squeezes your hand. “Want me to do it?”

You nod. 

She picks it up, chest puffing out as she holds the test between you. You don’t dare look. Her lips part, eyes turning glossy. “Two lines. Positive.”

“Shit,” you choke out, and the tears begin again. You’re pregnant, and it isn’t just a guess anymore. It’s real. Everything you are is about to change. 

“Shit,” Abby agrees, showing you the test. The lines are clear as day. No denying them, just as there’s no denying all the ways you haven’t felt normal recently.

“God, I don’t know how I’ll do this.”

“You don’t have to,” she reminded. “You deserve to have a choice, so we’ll figure one out, okay? Even if I have to raid a thousand pharmacies.”

You’re not sure you want that. Your hand falls over your belly, just slightly rounder than it was a few months ago, trouser buttons stretched tighter. It’s going to take time to figure it out, but there’s warmth that wasn’t there before. You’re not alone in this the way you thought you were a few hours ago, and yeah, it’s going to be tough as shit, but…

But you look at Abby and see something that might be worth it.

She must sense it, because she tugs you close and presses a gentle kiss to your forehead. “It’s too late to make decisions tonight. You wanna try to get some sleep?”

You don’t think sleep is a thing you’re capable of with your heart racing like this, but you nod. She helps you out of your jacket and slips off her pants to slide under the duvet before tugging you to do the same. Bare legs intertwine, the closest you’ve ever been, and your face sinks into her hard chest, counting her breaths to keep from spiralling. 

“He’ll want me to get rid of it,” you say. “He already told me that.”

“He doesn’t get a say. He’s a piece of fucking shit, and it’s your body.”

“If it was your choice… would you want this?” Your voice is small, perhaps hopeful. “Do you really want that tiny version of me?”

“I want you to be happy. It’s all I’ve ever wanted. If this could make you happy, in any world, then yeah, I’d want it. But it isn’t about me, sweetheart.”

“I think it is,” you admit, chewing on your lip. “I think the minute you told me I’m not alone in this, it stopped feeling like a complete nightmare.”

“You really needed me to tell you?” she murmurs against your forehead.

“It’s a baby, Abby. And you’re my best friend, not my…”

You wish she was, so much that you can’t even finish the sentence. 

She does it for you, voice flat. “Not your girlfriend.”

You hum. 

“Maybe not, but you’re… You’re all that matters to me,” she says. “I’d do anything for you.”

You bite your lower lip. “Thank you, Abby. I'm not sure I could handle this without you.”

“Always. Y’don’t ever have to thank me.”

But you do, and it will never feel like enough. By the time you fall asleep, morning light is already bleeding through the window — but Abby stays with you, making you believe that maybe you could find your way through this, even if you’ll be stumbling in the dark.

She’ll be your light.  

[seventeendeer]

something I think is super neat about the Sonic cast is just how many of the major supporting characters serve as narrative foils to Sonic himself, and how each of them plays with the series' central theme of "freedom" in different ways. in the past, a common criticism of the franchise has been that Sonic's character doesn't have much depth, or "lore", but when paired with more complex foil characters, I actually think keeping it simple works excellently for our main boy.

at the core of his character, Sonic is just a chill, friendly little dude who takes each day as it comes. he believes in everyone's fundamental right to choose for themselves how they want to live their lives, and he's ready to fight anyone who infringes on that right. this stands in contrast to ...

... Metal Sonic (introduced in Sonic CD, 1993), a robotic replica of Sonic designed by Doctor Eggman to match his speed and combat prowess. Sonic and Metal's relationship circles the franchise's core conflict of nature VS industrialization. Sonic, a flesh-and-blood animal, protects the natural world from a machine puppeteered by a human, with the goal of preventing said human from gaining control over natural resources.

throughout the series, there are many signs that although he is a machine doing exactly what he was designed to do, Metal Sonic is a deeply troubled character. he struggles with his identity as a hollow imitation of someone else - just as physically capable as Sonic, if not more so, but empty inside beyond what Eggman has programmed him for. this calls back to the origins of robots in fiction and their thematic association with slavery; the word "robot" can be traced back to "labor" (as in "work") in multiple Slavic languages. Metal Sonic exemplifies what Eggman wants the world to become: a perfectly predictable, orderly machine serving only him and under his complete control ... but even this small-scale execution of his vision is unsustainable. Metal's emotional troubles cause him to rebel and act on his own on multiple occasions, and no matter how often Eggman tries to patch out the "bugs" in "its" code, Metal will always long to be more than just a tool to be used by someone else. that need for emotional fulfillment and self-actualization cannot be destroyed, even in an allegedly "perfect worker."

though Sonic and Metal Sonic are superficially similar, one of them is trapped in a system built on labor exploitation. because he either will not or cannot leave his assigned role (depending on how you interpret a robotic character's "programming"), he cannot be satisfied with his lot in life the way his counterpart is. to be a cog in a capitalist machine is to be denied your freedom, and no matter how you excel within this system, there is no fulfillment for anyone except for the guy sitting at the top. you can really tell Metal is a 90's character, because these themes were everywhere in children's media during this decade.

... Shadow the Hedgehog (introduced in Sonic Adventure 2, 2001), an artificial super soldier who may or may not have been created in Sonic's image somehow (this is never fully explained). like Sonic, Shadow is a heroic figure who fights evil to protect the weak. however, while Sonic lives in the now, Shadow is defined by his tragic, complicated past. unlike Metal Sonic, who is actively being exploited for someone else's gain, Shadow's barriers to freedom are mental. his creator, the military that funded his creation, and his biological father all had different motives for bringing him into the world; his character arc revolves around making sense of his origins and which choices they now leave him with going forward.

in Sonic Adventure 2, Shadow has to navigate false memories implanted by his creator, who wanted to weaponize him as part of a revenge plot against humanity. Shadow ultimately rejects his false memories in favor of a real memory where he promised to protect the Earth and everyone who lives on it instead. in both Shadow the Hedgehog and Shadow Generations, Shadow's biological father returns, asserting that he is entitled to use Shadow for his own plans because he made a deal with his creator before Shadow was even alive. instead, Shadow kills him, recommitting to the promise he made to protect the world in the process. in Sonic '06, a time traveling villain from the future claims humanity will one day scapegoat Shadow for something he didn't do because they're afraid of him. empowered by his new friends - friends who are still alive, who care about him because of who he is, not because of what he is - Shadow says if this future comes to pass, he is ready to abandon his current path and fight for his own life if he has to.

at this point in time, though Sonic and Shadow fundamentally have the same values, Shadow's past consistently hampers his ability to forge his own path. for him, the key to achieving freedom involves working through his baggage, making peace with what he lost, forging new connections and taking a stance against those who try to use his origins against him. his story arc associates "freedom" with "living in the present", and not letting your past define you.

... Silver the Hedgehog (introduced in Sonic the Hedgehog, 2006, AKA Sonic '06). although less of an explicit parallel to Sonic compared to others on this list, he is nonetheless placed into a trifecta with Sonic and Shadow in his debut game, where they work together to protect the past, present and future. Silver is a time traveler with destructive psychokinetic powers, who is willing to do whatever it takes to avert the post-apocalyptic future from which he originates. while Shadow, depressive and cynical, ruminates on the past, Silver, anxious and naive, frets obsessively over the future. aside from reinforcing the connection between spiritual freedom and living in the present, Silver's character also interacts with the freedom-theme through his and Sonic's contrasting perspectives on how to deal with their enemies.

notably, Silver is one of the few sincerely altruistic characters in the series who is consistently willing to kill even defenseless foes if he's sufficiently convinced it's for some greater good. in his first appearance, one villain takes advantage of his desperation to save the world and almost successfully manipulates him into killing an innocent person, which would have caused the apocalypse he was trying to prevent in the first place. in a later game, he leaves a villain who's begging for his life to a painful death simply because he's sick of dealing with him, he has no reason to believe he's going to learn anything from their most recent encounter, and the only person around to see it happen agrees with his decision. in the IDW comic series, he helps a friend hunt down her arch enemy to prevent him from terrorizing her further. while the first incident is portrayed as a mistake on Silver's end, the latter two deaths are played as unambiguously justified.

Sonic himself has a strict no-kill policy, which he sticks to to the very best of his ability. murder is depicted as the ultimate violation of a person's autonomy, so it's at odds with his personal values. at times, this attitude is shown in a positive light: something like half the cast are former enemies he made friends with, who now help others in turn. other times, letting his enemies live comes back to bite him, and questions are raised around how much responsibility he carries for the problems they go on to cause. Silver serves as the inversion of this theme - his willingness to violate this sacred right to life does, at times, cause more good than harm, but leaving this decision to the flawed judgment of a single person is also portrayed as morally gray and extremely dangerous.

the fact that his main power is literally "mind over matter" - which he often uses to seize, lift, crush, throw, and otherwise physically manipulate living bodies - seems to reference this theme as well, as does all the collatoral damage he causes whenever he uses his powers in battle.

... Blaze the Cat (introduced in Sonic Rush, 2005), a pseudo-counterpart to Sonic from another dimension, who draws on the power of her own world's magical gemstones to fight evil in a direct parallel to Sonic's ability to harness the Chaos Emeralds. Blaze is in the inverse position that Metal Sonic is in - instead of suffering under someone else's rule, Blaze was born into a position of authority, and she overworks herself trying to do right by the people she holds power over.

interestingly, while the series' core themes revolve around freedom and most authoritarian factions are portrayed as morally gray at best, an exception is frequently made for monarchies. monarchies almost exclusively appear as fancy set dressing to prop up princess characters, which ties into the series' history with misogyny. princesshood is used as a narrative device to inflate the perceived "importance" of female characters, which Blaze is an example of. as is common for the fantasy genre, well-intentioned characters born into royalty are depicted as uniquely burdened by the responsibility they feel toward their people; they are hard-working and selfless, and they are kept awake at night by the very real possibility that their own shortcomings may end up ruining countless lives. in Blaze's case, these problems are compounded by her duties as the guardian of multiple magical artifacts - and she may or may not have the powers of a dead god sealed away within her soul as well, which would destroy the world if unleashed, just for good measure.

while Sonic is nothing out of the ordinary beyond his super speed and his willingness to stand up to injustice, Blaze was born into circumstances that have been detrimental to her ability to live for herself, similar to Shadow. however, unlike Shadow, Blaze accepting her destiny is portrayed as a noble, righteous sacrifice, as there are still-living people actively relying on her who need her to fill the role she's been assigned. at the end of the day, although her position is portrayed as a heavy burden to bear, Blaze is proud of the work she does to ensure her people can live their lives in peace, even if it means she herself cannot do the same.

in accordance with this characterization, it's also worth noting the elemental symbolism surrounding her powers. Sonic is commonly associated with the element of wind, both literally (he can create mini-tornadoes in combat) and metaphorically (as in "free as the wind"); meanwhile, Blaze mainly fights using pyrokinesis, and her association with fire is variously used to emphasize her social estrangement, her unapproachable nature, her temper, her ability to dispel evil, and eventually her ability to nourish those around her. and I think it may also be significant that - unlike the wind - a fire cannot be truly free without causing devastation. by virtue of what she is, there is a limit to how much Blaze can allow herself to cut loose without causing harm to other people. instead, she chooses to forgo a certain level of personal freedom in order to, in metaphorical terms, keep others warm.

... Surge the Tenrec (introduced in Imposter Syndrome, 2021), a normal girl who was experimented on by an evil scientist to turn her into a fake "hero" to replace Sonic as part of his plan for world domination. like Sonic, Surge is a rebel at heart, and she craves freedom more than anything else - but only for herself.

while in the scientist's custody, Surge was brainwashed and manipulated into following his agenda, and even after breaking free and setting out on her own, she remains terrified of falling under someone else's control again. her emancipation is subtextually played as a child escaping an abusive home environment, complete with a tragic vulnerability to re-victimization. her trauma causes her to push away those who genuinely want to help her, suspicious of their intentions, but it also makes her unable to identify genuinely dangerous situations, likely because they simply "remind her of home." as a result, she repeatedly finds herself manipulated by those around her, and she only grows more desperate to assert control over her own life as time goes on.

because Surge's wish to be free is born from traumatic experiences rather than personal values, she couldn't care less about protecting anyone else's right to autonomy. this is best illustrated in her relationship with her younger brother figure, Kitsunami, who was brainwashed into following her lead in all matters, in a twisted interpretation of Sonic's friendship with Tails. despite her hatred for the people who have taken advantage of her in the past, Surge has no qualms about upholding the power imbalance between herself and Kit in turn. it seems she likes the idea of both of them being "rebels" in theory, but in practice, she has no other friends or systems of support, so his willingness to give up his own personhood to protect hers is simply too valuable of a resource for her to jeopardize. she needs him, and the easiest way to keep him around is to make sure he continues to believe that he needs her too.

similar to Blaze, the contrast between Sonic and Surge is accentuated through elemental symbolism. in reference to the feuding god-brothers Fūjin and Raijin from Japanese mythology, Sonic's element of wind (tenacious, evasive, impossible to catch) is contrasted against Surge's element of electricity (bold, destructive, self-erasing). Sonic is free as the wind, but Surge is free as a freak lightning storm: out of control, doomed to destroy herself over and over, and willing to take everyone around her down with her.

the way I see it, Metal Sonic, Shadow, Silver, Blaze and Surge are Sonic's most notable narrative foils, though others do exist. Jet the Hawk is another parallel character to Sonic, but only in the context of a series of spinoff racing games; the character contrast here revolves around Sonic and Jet's opposing attitudes toward sportsmanship rather than the main series' themes of autonomy. I actually think you could also make the argument that Amy Rose is sometimes played as a narrative foil to Sonic, though this is inconsistent. similar to Sonic, Amy is heroic, determined and extremely tenacious, but her juvenile attempts to trap Sonic into a romantic relationship with her are at odds with his dislike of being tied to any one person. Amy's role as a kind-of-semi-foil-character is more noticeable when she appears alongside Cream, as their relationship (especially in their early appearances) can be described as "Sonic and Tails, if Sonic was a lot more headstrong and Tails was too meek to meaningfully balance him out." in a roundabout way, Amy and Cream occasionally read as a much more lighthearted, purely-humorous precursor to Surge and Kit's dynamic.

other foil characters have shown up in alternate continuities, but this post is already long, so I'll leave it here. I love Sonic and all his weird buddies, their relationships are such a fun way to play around with the series' themes. the interplay between a protagonist who is simple and thematically to-the-point + various more complicated takes on the same theme creates such a fun little web, I think!! it'll be fun to see if more characters like this show up in the future <3

[goodolddumbbanana]

Monty doesn't take Moon side and actually sticks up to Sun? This is new. This is beautiful.

We are so miss Monty and Sun duo. Surely they rarely talk to each other much but clearly Monty has grown respect towards Sun day by day to the point of carefully thinking of what Sun feels and Sun also trusts Monty to take care of his sister.

I pretty much predicted Moon would use the Sun would overreact and condemn it as it's not a big deal when talking to Sun, but I don't actually think it would go that bad.

Like, what girl, do you have any idea what comes out of your mouth???

Not only do you say sorry with a sarcastic tone, like you want Sun to move this topic on immediately, but also you had a gut to tell Sun, he is the emotional one????

Are you sure it is not you who yelled and hit Sun because you want to prove you are worse than Eclipse, that instead of comfort your brother in distress, it is Sun who comforts you back??

Is it not you who insulted Sun everyday back then just because you are upset?

Is it not you who literally rather talking to Funtime Chika and Foxy than talking to your brother, who clearly is not in the right mind because whatever you screamed before? And then is it not you who instead of comfort and making sure Sun is okay, mf accused Sun to be cold hearted for killing Bloodmoon and proceed to die because you don't want to deal with more of your consequences?

And when Sun killed Nexus, what did you do? Comfort Sun like a good brother? Noooooo... You think so much about yourself and your 'not good with emotions craps' when in fact you just hate Nexus and don't want to do anything related to him. And who is the one comfort who in the end may I ask?

It's Sun, the one who literally killed his brother, comfort and said that yes Moon, you are good enough.

But in this new dimension and this new life, probably Moon would still stay better, right?

Nah, dude did crime right the second day, and have a gut to tell back to Sun, saying he did all this because of the family, especially Dazzle. Definitely doesn't smell manipulation here, am I right.

And then what? Babygirl decided things over Sun like Sun just a child, like Sun just a puppet for him to puppeting.

Boy clearly forgets about all his promises right after he feels comfortable enough.

"I'm totally not mad that Monty told you about the thing"

Yes you do!! If not, you wouldn't try to keep lying your way when Sun asks you firsthand!! Who predicted he would be indirect aggression towards Monty for a week before he cooled off??

And what? Using Dazzle as an excuse of how Moon is treating Sun again????

Bro, are you sure it is because you actually care about Sun's feeling and totally not because you feel ashamed that you got caught and want your image to be forever perfect in Sun's eyes?

Surely it is not your ego shatter and you need Sun to smother it right?

And what was that?

"I will call you if I need you. "

Girl... You clearly just don't want to tell Sun anything. I bet it will be the last faith Sun left for you Moon. Because from now on, Sun definitely will not take Moon words with as much care like he used before.

I mean, why would he when clearly, Moon doesn't respect any of his? His boundaries? His promises?

Sun is right to get out and take a chill pill. Because if it was me, I totally would punch that face hard and walk it off.

[orellazalonia]

Hello lovely! For the 1k Followers Event Reverse Prompt, may I request Yelena Belova x female reader with prompt #11 Love triangle where the two love interests get together instead. Maybe they both think they like Bucky or something, only to find out they’re gay? 💅

If not that’s totally okay, have a great day ☕️🍪

Hello there! Absolutely love this idea, so I hope you enjoy it as well! Thank you for reading and participating. You have a lovely day and Happy reading!!!

Wrong Target, Right Shot

Summary: You and Yelena both thought you were into Bucky, constantly orbiting his presence and each other, convinced it was competition. But after a series of shared moments, quiet realizations, and misdirected longing, you finally figured out the only spark worth chasing was between the two of you. (Yelena Belova x reader)

Word Count: 2.4k+

Main Masterlist

You didn’t mean to start coordinating your entire schedule around Bucky Barnes. It wasn’t conscious. At least, not at first. He just… happened to be where you were or you happened to be where he was. Morning runs, gym sessions, or cafeteria lines. It was a big compound, but apparently not big enough to hide your crush.

He was the safe kind of attractive: distant, emotionally unavailable, annd always brooding. Classic case of “you like him because you don’t really think he’ll like you back.” Predictable and contained.

What wasn’t predictable was Yelena Belova.

Every time you thought you’d get a moment alone with Bucky, she appeared.

You were mid-spar with him in the gym, awkward, sweaty, and definitely flailing a little; and in walked Yelena. She leaned against the wall, arms crossed, and expression unreadable.

“Need a third?” She asked casually.

You hesitated. “Just doing light drills.”

“Light’s good,” She replied, already pulling her hair back. “I’ll go easy on you.”

You assumed she was trying to impress Bucky too. Obviously. Who wouldn’t?

You were totally not offended by that. Totally not watching the way her shoulder muscles flexed as she tied her hair. Not jealous of how good she looked without trying. Not distracted by the slight smirk curling at the edge of her lips when she saw you staring.

Nope. You were here for Bucky.

Definitely.

But during lunch, you’d barely set your plate down next to Bucky when Yelena dropped into the seat across from you. Again.

She gave a curt nod to Bucky, then looked at you. “Nice shirt.”

You blinked. “It’s just a hoodie.”

“I know,” She said, sipping her iced coffee, “But I like how it looks on you.”

You short-circuited for a full two seconds before deciding she was probably just being competitive. You glanced at Bucky, hoping for some kind of reaction, but he was scrolling through his phone like he hadn’t heard a word. Either he was incredibly oblivious or deeply uninterested. Or both.

Yelena, on the other hand, was clearly trying to get under your skin. You assumed it was some subtle Cold War spy intimidation thing. She wanted you to back off so she could make her move on Bucky.

And if you found yourself staring at her more than him? Well. That was probably intimidation, too.

Right?

You were the first to arrive this time. Determined, focused, and ready.

Bucky had agreed to a one-on-one training session, and you were going to finally talk to him. Maybe even flirt. Lightly, casually, if your voice didn’t betray you and your limbs cooperated.

Then came the door creaking open.

“Of course,” You muttered.

Yelena stepped in, ponytail bouncing, and expression neutral. She looked at Bucky, then at you.

“What’s going on?” She asked. “Date night?”

Your face burned. “Just training.”

She shrugged. “Cool. I’ll join.”

Bucky looked between you, clearly tired of whatever this weird standoff was. “You two work it out. I’m just here to hit things.”

Yelena grinned. “So are we.”

You assumed she was teasing him. She assumed you were trying to steal her man. Neither of you realized the real tension had absolutely nothing to do with Bucky.

Later that night, you were standing at the counter, fiddling with a mug of tea, and trying to breathe through the fog of confusion. You weren’t sure if Yelena hated you, was flirting with you, or trying to fight you. You weren’t even sure you liked Bucky anymore. He was quiet and nice and… background noise.

You took a sip of your tea when the fridge door swung open behind you.

Yelena.

Of course.

She moved like she always did, quiet and confident, like she owned the space without needing to prove it. You glanced over as she rummaged through the fridge, finally grabbing a container of blueberries and popping one into her mouth.

Then, without looking up, she asked, “Why do you keep trying to hang out with Bucky?”

You blinked. “What?”

She turned, leaning against the counter, arms crossed. “You follow him around like a little shadow. You were literally camped out in the gym this morning.”

Your brows knit. “Okay first of all, I signed up for that slot.”

“And the last three lunches?”

“I was hungry,” You deadpanned. “Besides, aren’t you always wherever he is?”

She rolled her eyes. “That’s only because you keep showing up. Obviously you like him.”

You let out a dry laugh. “If you think that, then why don’t you ever try to spend time with him alone?”

Yelena opened her mouth. Then stopped. The silence that followed was strange. Not defensive. Not sarcastic. Just… still.

You watched her face closely as something subtle shifted behind her eyes. She looked down at the blueberries in her hand, then slowly popped another one into her mouth.

“I don’t know,” She said quietly, almost like the question had genuinely never occurred to her before. “I guess I just… didn’t think about it.”

You tilted your head. “You spend all this time joining training sessions, tagging along to lunches, crashing movie nights, and only when I’m there.”

She hesitated. “Maybe I don’t want to be alone with him.”

You raised a brow. “But you think you like him?”

She didn’t respond.

Instead, she looked at you and something unreadable flickered across her face. Then, like she was trying to push the thought away before it got too big, she shrugged and looked back at the counter.

“Whatever. It’s not that deep,” She muttered.

A few days later, you dragged yourself into the gym again, pretending it wasn’t mostly out of habit at this point.

Bucky was already there lifting, focused, sweat-slick, and silent. You watched him for a second, waiting for the flutter in your chest that was supposed to be there. The kind that used to show up when he looked over at you and nodded. Or when he offered you a water bottle after a spar.

But it never came. Not today. Not lately.

You still went through the motions, though. A warm-up stretch, a couple of reps. You moved through the space like someone reenacting their own crush from memory, hoping it would stick again.

It didn’t.

“Need a spot?” He asked casually, glancing over.

You looked at him, genuinely tried to feel something. Anything.

“Sure,” You said.

He came over, adjusted your grip, and corrected your form. Close proximity, firm hands, objectively attractive; all the ingredients were there.

And still, nothing. You could almost feel your frustration vibrating under your skin.

What’s wrong with me?

Then the door creaked open. As if on cue, Yelena entered with a blank tank top, fingerless gloves, and a messy ponytail. She was all sharp angles and steady eyes, marching into the space like it owed her money.

You caught yourself standing up straighter before you could stop.

“Don’t mind me,” She said, making a beeline for the treadmill. “Just doing cardio.”

You looked at Bucky. He just shrugged, giving you a small, polite smile, then went back to his workout. That was it. It was more than you’d gotten before yet still there was no tension, no chemistry, no spark.

But when you looked at Yelena, even from across the gym, and saw the slight curve of her mouth as she pushed her pace just a little faster?

Spark.

Your stomach dropped.

You tried to look at Bucky instead. To think about how you were supposed to want him. About how this was the whole point of everything! training near him, eating with him, and working alongside him.

And after your workout session, you ran into him by the vending machines. Alone. Golden opportunity.

He gave you that faint, half-lidded smile again. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”

You shrugged. “Was gonna get a quick snack then go on a walk. Clear my head.”

He nodded. “Want company?”

Your brain said yes or tried to, but your mouth paused too long.

“I–maybe later,” You answered.

Something softened in his face. Not disappointment, exactly. Maybe… understanding.

He reached into the machine, pulled out a protein bar, and handed it to you. “You don’t have to try so hard.”

You blinked. “What?”

“You’re great,” He said, voice low. “But I’m not the one you’re really looking at when we’re in the room together.”

Your face went warm. “That obvious?”

He gave you a little shrug and smiled again. “Maybe not to everyone.”

Then he nodded toward the hallway. “She’s still in the gym, by the way.”

Your stomach turned inside out. “What?”

“Yelena,” He said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “She’s been doing extra drills. Think she’s trying to distract herself.”

And just like that, he walked off.

You hesitated before walking toward the gym, and found Yelena hitting the heavy bag like she had a personal grudge against it. Her hair was sticking to her forehead, fists wrapped, and breathing hard. She didn’t look up when you stepped in.

You waited and waited.

Then she asked suddenly: “What happened to training with Bucky Barnes?”

You crossed your arms. “Didn’t feel like it.”

“Right,” She muttered, throwing another punch.

“Yelena.”

She stopped mid-strike.

You stepped closer, slowly. “Why do you keep showing up whenever I do?”

She turned her head slightly. “Because you were going to flirt with him.”

“You could’ve flirted, too.”

“I didn’t want to.”

The moment stretched thin.

You took a slow breath. “Then why were you really there?”

She turned fully this time. Her eyes were unreadable but softer somehow. “I thought I liked him.”

“Did you?”

“No,” She said quietly. “I just liked… being around someone who made me feel something.”

Your heart thudded. “Someone like me?”

Her jaw flexed.

You moved in closer, slow and careful, until there was barely a foot of space left between you. Her breathing was still uneven from training or maybe not just from training. She swallowed, eyes searching yours like she was trying to solve a puzzle she didn’t realize she’d been holding upside down.

“I guess I kept thinking,” She began slowly, “If I could just get to him first, if I could make you back off, I could figure out what I wanted.”

“And did you?” You asked, your voice almost a whisper now.

Her brows knit together. “No. It just got worse.”

That made you smile, but not in a teasing way. Soft, sad, and relieved.

“Yeah,” You murmured. “Same.”

She looked at you like she’d just now started seeing you clearly. The fight drained from her posture, the snark peeled away. What was left was raw and unsure.

“Why are you here?” She asked, not with suspicion, but like she was scared to hope.

You hesitated only a moment. “Because I think maybe… it was never about him. Not for me.”

She opened her mouth like she might argue but then stopped. Something in her eyes cracked a little, softened.

“Yelena?” You asked gently.

“Yeah?”

“Do you… wanna maybe stop pretending this is about him?”

For the first time, she looked a little afraid but she nodded.

And when you leaned in tentatively, nervously, she met you halfway.

Ever since that day in the training room, things between you and Yelena changed in a way that didn’t need to be spoken aloud. You stopped circling Bucky like planets trying to align and started orbiting Yelena instead. Both of you did, deliberately, carefully, and like neither of you wanted to acknowledge it too soon and break whatever was forming.

It started small. She began showing up at your door before missions, claiming she had "extra intel" to go over, even when there wasn’t any. You let her in anyway. Sometimes she stayed after the mission too, sitting cross-legged on your couch with her combat boots still on, ranting about poor tactical leadership while you handed her tea she never actually asked for. You got used to the way she curled up at the corner of your bed, or how she’d poke at your lunch in the cafeteria before pulling the tray over and eating half of it herself.

You stopped trying to interpret those moments, stopped comparing them to anything you’d ever felt for Bucky.

It was different and real.

She asked you one day, completely unprompted, if you’d ever been to a carnival. You told her no, and she rolled her eyes like that was the greatest injustice she’d ever heard. Two days later, she dragged you out in a hoodie and dark glasses, and you both spent the entire day pretending you were normal people who weren’t trained to kill. She bought you cotton candy and didn’t eat any of it. You bought her chili fries, and she stole your sunglasses by the end of the night.

Neither of you called it a date, but the silence between you on the train ride home was heavy and warm, pulsing with everything unspoken.

You started spending more time in her room, too. Watching bad action movies or arguing about which snack brand was better. Her legs always ended up stretched across your lap, or her shoulder pressed against yours like it had nowhere else to go.

Sometimes, you’d catch her looking at you during moments of quiet like a mid-laugh, mid-yawn, or mid-nothing; and the way she softened was unlike anything else. It scared you in the best possible way.

It was after one of those quiet nights, both of you half-asleep on her bed, that you finally spoke.

“I don’t think I ever liked Bucky,” You whispered.

Yelena didn’t open her eyes. “Yeah. I figured that out after the second training session.”

You smiled to yourself. “Took me longer.”

There was a pause, then her voice, muffled against your shoulder. “I didn’t like him either.”

You turned your head to look at her, and she finally opened her eyes. “I just wanted to be wherever you were.”

That truth sat between you, simple and unarmored. She didn’t try to take it back. You didn’t try to laugh it off.

Your heart beat unevenly in your chest as you reached up, fingertips brushing the edge of her jaw. Her hand came up, resting over yours.

“Can I kiss you?” You asked.

She answered by leaning in first. Slow, careful, and a little clumsy. Her lips were soft and warm, and when you kissed her back, it felt like finally putting something important back where it belonged.

There was no spark with Bucky. There never was. Because the flame was here, between you and Yelena, waiting patiently for the two of you to stop pretending it was about someone else.

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[moonlit-imagines]

Headcanons for being a psychic superhero and dating Jimmy Olsen

Jimmy Olsen x reader

warnings:

a/n: s/h/n=superhero name. i added telepathy and telekinesis to reader also teehee. and also sorry this is so short !! hope they give us a jimmy show bc i would go crazy over his new dcu lore

prompt: anonymous: “headcanons for being a psychic superhero and dating jimmy olsen please? happy writing!”

jimmy was keeping a huge secret from his coworkers

his s/o was a superhero

"you guys see that picture i took of s/h/n? pretty cool right? good angle" -jimmy

"yeah, jimmy, it was great" -lois, flatly

by then he'd taken so many pictures of you everyone made the connection that you were s/h/n

not a great practice (*cough* clark *cough*)

they all let him think he was being slick about it

and you knew they all knew

when you visited you laughed at their thoughts

"you reading my mind, y/n?" -lois

"yes and i'm absolutely playing along" -you

you quickly found out clark was superman also

which he was gonna tell you anyway, you saw him telling you in the future

you'd get mad at jimmy before things happened to mess with him

"oh, you're gonna flirt with eve, huh?" -you, out of the blue

"wh—what?! why would i—i wouldn't. i'd never! are you messing with me?" -jimmy

"wouldn't you like to know, camera boy" -you

jimmy worshipped u lowkey

nonchalant my ass you were his #1

when you responded to emergencies, everyone felt a bit more at ease

you could predict people's next moves and ensure people's safety

like when the kaiju struck

"he's gonna step on that dog!" -you

"on it!" -superman

you tried your best not to like, spoil people's futures but it was hard not to

"you're gonna tell her you love her already? isn't it kind of soon?" -you, unprompted

"y/n, no more future readings" -clark

"sorry, just trying to help" -you

"...is she gonna react okay?" -clark

"you said no more future reading, not telling" -you

"what the heck?!" -clark

jimmy loved hearing the hot gossip

"okay, so when do i get promoted?" -jimmy

"i'll tell you at the price of one kiss" -you

"i'll give you a million" -jimmy

"mm, how about two?" -you

"okay, now for answers" -jimmy, after kissing you

"i don't know, i can't see everything" -you

"i want a refund" -jimmy

"no refunds!" -you

lois got her interview with you "courtesy of jimmy"

"jimmy's really proud of you, you know" -lois

"i'm surprised he kept the secret this long" -you

"you should just tell him everyone knows" -lois

"eh, where's the fun in that?" -you

jimmy was the hype man

not only did he take your photo in a journalism standpoint, he took your photo for fun

date night pics were the best

"ooh, get is sexy!" -jimmy taking a million pics on his phone "posting these for sure"

when you were at restaurants, you could predict things like:

"oh, we gotta go, we're gonna get food poisoning" -you

"you are so awesome, let's go" -jimmy

also: waiter spitting in food, battle that will interrupt date night, running into one of jimmy's exes, etc

justice gang asked you to join once and jimmy was like sooooo sad you said no

"i could be like your superhero arm candy! why would you take that away from me?" -jimmy

"uh, cuz they're kind of lame. have you seen green lantern's haircut?" -you

"i'm gonna cut my hair like that" -jimmy

"no you're not" -you, using your powers to call bullshit

"damn, it! i forgot i can't bluff with you" -jimmy

you were definitely so supportive of jimmy too

like if his pictures made the front page he'd try to not make it a big deal but you'd tell him how awesome and amazing he was and he'd blush

you framed his first front-pager and hung it up in your apartment

"y/n it's embarrassing" -jimmy, lying

"no it's not, it's great!" -you

sometimes you'd really have to bite your tongue when you'd see upsetting, distressing, uncomfortable things in the future bc it really just wasn't your place

like you wanted to live normally and jimmy could respect that

but it bummed him out if there was bad news you knew about and didn't tell him—like if he got chewed out at work or something

you also did your best to try not to spoil surprises

"oh my god, i'm so surprised! thank you, jimmy" -you, very unconvincingly

"you knew, didn't you" -jimmy

"yes, but it was an involuntary read it just flashed in my head i swear i didnt mean to ruin it" -you

you weren't omnipotent by any means lol you just had good or bad luck depending on the day. and some preonitions/sights/thoughts/whatever were more prominent than others and sooo much harder to ignore

like lex luthor invested in a way to block his and his employee's brain waves so you wouldn't be able to foil his plans

and to basically distress you so you couldn't "see" either

which (plot armor) is why you didn't know about the fortress infiltration or ultraman or baravia politics and didn't end up being much help besides trying to get people to safety in times of trouble

jimmy finally found out that the daily planet crew knew you were s/h/n when they were in mr. terrific's ship

"y/n can handle themself, even being blind to premonitions they can still move things with their mind, i just saw them hold a falling building up while moving people out from underneath" -lois

"y/n? wait—did you guys know?" -jimmy

"of course we did, kid. you weren't all that inconspicuous about it. you turned in ten pictures of s/h/n a week. wasn't that hard to connect the dots, we didn't even need a pinboard" -perry, pointing to the lex luthor board

"are you serious?! i could have been talking about this the whole time?! does y/n know you know?" -jimmy

"how could they not? they're s/h/n" -lois

betrayal

once the city was saved, jimmy pulled out his phone and started showing everyone "secret" pictures of him next to his badass s/o bc he "could finally show everyone how cool he was"

"don't show those to your admirers, jimmy" -you

"of course not, baby! wouldn't wanna make them jealous" -jimmy

taglist: @summersimmerus // @the-did-i-ask // @elmolovesw33d // @redhoodedtoad //

[ghouljams]

ghoul how do i convince my mother that ai is bad for us and it’s not actually “the future” like she says

(imagine a rat doing the shinji pose )

Here is an anon ask that you can start with:

Apparently one of the OpenAI investors is going into psychosis on Twitter because he was trying to crack the deep state and ended up getting SCP articles from the chatgpt he was using.

People are getting psychoses from ai, mostly religious delusion, because they believe that ai has some sort of understanding that they don't. People claim that ai has shown them pictures of heaven, has told them that god/angels are real, has confirmed government black sites, aliens, any conspiracy you can think of. Of course you and I know that this is not true and not possible because ai is fundamentally incapable of actually processing any information, only supplying answers it thinks you will like.

People have started using ai for therapy, which has led to at least one documented suicide (because ai is a language prediction model and tells you what you want to hear. Which... I don't think I have to give all the reasons why that could be incredibly dangerous for people.

You could also point out the post that I reblogged earlier about Meta's new ai data center using over 500,000 gallons of water a day, absolutely draining the water usage of actual real life humans around it. You could point out that the power usage in these data centers is draining the power grid, and that ai blockheads want to make water and power rights optional for humans by prioritizing ai data centers.

You might point out to your mom that ai frequently makes up numbers, statistics, "facts", that it creates fake sources and studies, and that it often "hallucinates" data and conversations. That even just basic googling will tells you an ai "source" is incorrect or doesn't exist.

You might also bring up that "Artificial Intelligence" is a misnomer and that the program isn't actually intelligent, it is simply a language prediction model, filling in words in an order that seems semi-intelligent to a person who isn't looking at it too hard.

But you could also put some parental controls on all the ai sites, just block them before they even pop up. Might be quicker.