#try to find all the references i put in here :>

[magnagaruzenmon]

Takedown

Sorry for the late drop Dio has been going through it this week and is operating at 1/10 his normal self, and Dino is still working on his novel so this took a bit longer to make, needless to say we all loved the movie though.

Yes this is unironically a reference.

“Huntrix Girls to World!” The chorus blasted through Theseus’s earbuds just as his flight touched down in South Korea — the final stop of his world tour. He glanced at his two handlers seated beside him.

“I still don’t know about this,” he muttered, dragging a hand down his face.

Megara grinned. “Relax. It’ll be fine.”

Dino clapped him on the shoulder. “Think of it as a vacation. No demons. No rival hunters. Just good vibes, good music, and us.”

The trio stood, throwing on jackets. Theseus pulled up his hood low over his face as they made their way through the bustling airport. Despite the late hour, the place was packed. A plane at the next terminal had just arrived, drawing a massive crowd — the pride of South Korea had returned.

TWICE.

After their record-breaking 4th World Tour, the queens were finally home for some rest. But as fate would have it, both groups converged at the same baggage claim.

Theseus was adjusting his bag strap when he looked up — and locked eyes with her.

Jihyo.

Leader. Idol. National treasure. And, according to the files, high-ranking hunter.

He froze.

Unsure what else to do, he gave a stiff little wave.

Jihyo, effortlessly radiant, smiled and waved back. Then, casually, like they were old friends, she walked straight over to him.

“Hi,” she said, voice warm and confident.

Theseus blinked. “Uh… hi back.”

Jihyo laughed, folding her arms. “Not much of a talker, huh?”

“Not particularly,” he admitted. “But I can try. Hi, Jihyo-noona.”

“Ooh, polite and respectful? You’re not bad for a foreigner,” she teased. “But just call me Jihyo.”

“You’re basically royalty here. Felt like I should at least try to act right.”

She smiled. Then leaned in, her voice suddenly low, sweet, and dangerous.

“Being polite won’t save you, demon. I’m still going to kill you.”

Theseus stiffened, blood turning to ice. He instinctively took a step back. She followed.

“I’ll find you,” she whispered. “And gut you.”

Theseus blinked, trying to keep cool. “Uh… no Inglés?” he muttered before grabbing his bag and sprinting toward the exit.

Jihyo laughed, watching him flee. Moments later, Jeongyeon and Chaeyoung joined her.

“Unnie,” Chaeyoung said, pinching the bridge of her nose, “can you not scare the demons right away? You always spook them before we get a chance.”

Jihyo grinned. “Please. Where can he hide? This is our turf.”

Jeongyeon crossed her arms. “Yeah, but maybe next time don’t warn the prey?”

Just as the three prepared to give chase, a tidal wave of fans swarmed the girls with cameras flashing, squeals rising like sirens. The distraction gave Theseus just enough cover to slip into the crowd — and vanish.

The crowd was still buzzing around them, fans shrieking, camera flashes going off like fireworks. TWICE had barely taken ten steps before security finally formed a protective barrier. The three girls regrouped near a corner by the baggage carousels, just out of reach.

Jeongyeon didn’t wait.

“You let him go,” she said, her voice low and sharp.

Jihyo rolled her eyes. “He ran.”

Chaeyoung jabbed a finger toward her. “Because you told him you were gonna gut him!”

“That’s called psychological warfare.”

“It’s called stupid,” Jeongyeon snapped. “We had a clear shot. No cover, no fans, no bodyguards. He was right there.”

Jihyo put her hands up, smirking. “Okay, okay, maybe I got a little carried away.”

“A little?” Chaeyoung’s hands were on her hips now. “You scared him off like a feral cat. What were you thinking?”

“I was thinking,” Jihyo said slowly, “that it’s more fun when they run.”

That stopped both of them for a moment.

Jeongyeon groaned. “You and your hunter’s ego.”

Jihyo smiled. “What? It’s been boring lately. He looked interesting. Strong aura, too. Definitely not some low-tier demonic intern.”

“Still,” Chaeyoung said, sighing, “we’ve got a job. You can flirt after we neutralize the threat.”

“I wasn’t flirting,” Jihyo said too quickly.

Both of them stared at her.

Jeongyeon raised an eyebrow. “You told him you’d gut him with a smile. That’s your exact flirting face.”

Jihyo folded her arms, letting out a breath. “Fine. Maybe I wanted to see what he’d do under pressure.”

“He ran.”

“Exactly. That tells me a lot.”

Jeongyeon pinched the bridge of her nose. “Unbelievable. You’ve been listening to Sana again, haven’t you?”

“Maybe.”

Chaeyoung crossed her arms. “Well, next time? Just stab first. Banter after. We’re supposed to be discreet, remember?”

“Sure, sure,” Jihyo said, waving them off. “Next time, I’ll be the picture of restraint.”

“You’re never the picture of restraint,” Jeongyeon muttered.

Chaeyoung looked back at the crowd. “Think he’s still in the terminal?”

Jihyo’s smirk returned. “Doesn’t matter. I tagged him.”

They both turned toward her.

“You what?”

“Just a little sigil on his bag. We’ll know where he’s staying within the hour.”

Jeongyeon stared. “So… you planned to let him go?”

“Not exactly,” Jihyo said, already turning toward the exit with that same dangerous gleam in her eyes. “But I figured… let the demon sweat a little. Let him think he got away.”

Chaeyoung shook her head in disbelief. “You’re the worst.”

“I’m the leader.” She grinned. “And he just became my next obsession.”

Theseus arrived at the hotel with Megara and Dino 45 minutes later. Check-in was uneventful — quiet, efficient, almost suspiciously normal.

While Megara handled logistics with a call to the radio station they’d be guesting on tomorrow, Theseus retreated to the bathroom, craving the rinse of hot water and solitude.

Steam rose around him as the shower ran, washing away the stiffness of the flight — but not the ghost of her.

Jihyo.

She lingered in his mind like a perfume. Vanilla — soft and cloying, deceptively sweet. Her voice had slithered into his ear, low and lethal. The glint in her eye. The threat in her smile. The way she moved, like someone who already knew the outcome of every fight.

She was gorgeous. Too gorgeous.

And dangerous.

A slayer like him shouldn’t be entertaining thoughts about a hunter, especially not one as infamous as her. They were natural enemies — or at least, conditioned ones. No alliances. No dalliances. Certainly no distractions.

He’d stay out of her way. Leave the country. Bury the memory.

That was the plan.

After showering and changing into sweats and a fresh tee, he stepped back into the suite—only to stop cold.

The room was dark.

No lights. No noise.

He hadn’t turned them off. Neither had Dino or Megara.

He froze.

Then—vanilla.

His fingers flexed. A flash of cold ether crackled through his palm as he summoned his revolver, the silver weapon forming fully in his grip. He cocked the hammer without hesitation.

“I was starting to think this would be too easy,” came that familiar, honey-slick voice.

His stomach dropped.

A shape moved in the darkness — then the glint of a blade.

Jihyo stepped forward, casual as moonlight.

“You’ve got good instincts… for a demon.”

“I’m not a demon,” Theseus said, voice even.

“They all say that.” She tilted her head. “But you’ve got the aura. The scent. Something ancient clinging to you.”

“And you have a sword pointed at my neck.”

Jihyo grinned. “You noticed.”

He didn’t lower his weapon. She didn’t lower hers.

Then she whispered, delighted, “Do you feel lucky?”

Theseus groaned. “Did you seriously just quote Dirty Harry?”

“Shut up. It’s my turn to say it.” She stepped closer, hips swaying with unnerving confidence. “Answer the question.”

“I don’t. But I’ll still get three shots off before you reach me.”

Jihyo stopped — just a breath out of reach. Her eyes scanned his face, then his weapon.

The revolver gleamed, forged from cold silver, humming with residual rage and something darker.

“That’s quite the demon gun,” she said softly, almost admiringly.

“It is… on a technicality,” he admitted. “I made it from a demon’s heart.”

Her brows lifted. “Really?” she said, stepping even closer.

He could smell her now. Feel her presence like a pressure in the air. Fear and desire clashed in his chest like colliding storms. Every alarm in his body screamed to shoot. To run. To do something.

Instead—he kissed her.

Desperate, hungry, doomed.

He crushed his mouth to hers like it was the last act of a dying man. Maybe it was.

If he was going to die, it might as well be at the hands of someone beautiful.

For half a second, Jihyo froze.

He kissed her.

Not hesitantly. Not sweetly. No — like he thought it would be the last thing he ever did.

And it should have been.

Her blade was at his neck, sharp enough to slip between vertebrae. All it would take was one twitch of her wrist. She’d done it a hundred times before — fast, clean, precise.

But this time… she didn’t move.

Not because she was stunned — but because something deep inside her didn’t want to.

Damn it. This wasn’t supposed to happen.

He was a demon. A wild anomaly with a demon-forged gun and a pulse that practically radiated forbidden magic.

And yet… he kissed like someone who wanted her, not in spite of what she was — but because of it.

Her heart was pounding. Fast. Loud. She could feel the weight of the blade in her hand, still raised, but limp now — forgotten. His revolver was still drawn too, but neither of them were aiming anymore.

They were just close. Too close.

His lips were warm. Desperate. Honest in a way that made her chest ache.

She hated it. She loved it.

She hated that she loved it.

Get it together, Jihyo.

You’re the predator here. You found him. Cornered him. Marked him. You were going to gut him. You were supposed to gut him.

But instead—

She dropped her blade.

It clattered to the ground, the sound sharp, startling — like a gunshot.

A second later, his revolver followed, thudding against the carpet.

Her hands were on his chest before she even realized it. Pushing him — hard — against the hotel wall. His back hit it with a dull thud, but he didn’t resist.

He looked at her, surprised. Open. Like he hadn’t expected to still be alive.

She grabbed his collar.

And kissed him back.

Not soft. Not slow. Hard. Hungry. Furious.

It wasn’t affection. It was defiance. Of the rules. The war. Herself.

His hands found her waist — hesitant, then firm — and for a moment, the room was only breath and heat and the quiet hum of danger unspoken.

She pulled away first, eyes narrowed, breath uneven.

“You kiss like a death wish,” she whispered.

He swallowed. “Maybe it is.”

Jihyo stared at him. Then smirked — not sweetly, but with fire behind it. “If you’re trying to seduce your way out of being hunted…”

He didn’t answer.

She didn’t need him to.

Her voice dropped to a whisper. “…It might be working.”

The kiss didn’t stop. Not after her jacket hit the floor.

Theseus wasn’t sure who was leading anymore. Maybe it didn’t matter. They were tangled in each other, mouths pressed, breaths heavy, his back still against the wall of the hotel suite. Jihyo’s fingers had twisted in his shirt before tugging it up slightly — not with grace, but with intent.

She was all fire and precision, like she was cataloguing the shape of him with every brush of her hands. The edge of her blade might be gone, but she hadn’t lost her sharpness.

Then she pulled back slightly, lips just grazing his, breath mixing with his in the stillness.

“Too many layers,” she muttered, annoyed — at him, at herself, at the rules she was already breaking.

She shrugged off her jacket, revealing the sleeveless black top beneath — tactical, breathable, tight against her frame.

But something else caught his eye.

His breath hitched. There — just above her collarbone, faintly pulsing beneath the skin — was a mark.

Not ink. Not a hunter’s brand. Something older. Etched in a language only those who trafficked in dark blood would recognize.

The glyph was shifting ever so slightly. Alive.

Theseus’s hands paused where they were, resting on her hips, and his eyes widened.

“You…” he whispered. “You’re not fully human.”

Jihyo went still.

Her face didn’t change, not at first — but her heartbeat, fast as it was, skipped a beat.

Theseus brought a hand up slowly, brushing his fingers near the mark without touching it. “This is elder script,” he murmured. “Old blood magic. You’ve got demon lineage. Not low-tier either… something ancient.”

She didn’t deny it.

Instead, she leaned in, forehead almost against his, voice barely above a breath.

“I told you I’d gut you.”

He searched her eyes, half-expecting to see malice. But there was only a strange, weary intensity.

“You’re a hunter,” he said, trying to wrap his mind around it. “How can you be part of the thing you’re trained to kill?”

Jihyo let out a soft laugh — humorless, quiet, dangerous. “Do you think humans run the hunter’s guilds? Do you think they’d let a pure mortal be in charge of keeping demons in check?”

“Elder demon blood,” he repeated. “You’re stronger than you let on.”

She tilted her head, smile razor-thin. “And you’re smarter than you look.”

For a beat, they stood there in the electric silence — the air thick with heat, confusion, and everything unsaid.

Then Theseus broke the silence, voice low, rough.

“So what now?”

Jihyo’s lips hovered just above his.

“We keep making out,” she said. “And you keep pretending I’m not deciding whether to kiss you again or kill you.”

He grinned — crooked, reckless. “I’ll take those odds.”

She kissed him again — harder this time, more desperate, like she was trying to convince herself it didn’t mean anything.

But they both knew better.

As their lips crashed Jihyo’s body kept heating up until she found the demonic fire within her fully manifesting. Jihyo’s eyes changed from a soft brown to a frenzied crimson. Claws stretched at her fingertips as she ripped into Theseus’s clothes tearing them to shreds, before pushing him onto the couch.

“I need you inside me right fucking now!” She growled. Theseus stared into her eyes as flames encircled him as he realized he was in way over his head. So he did what he always did. He adapted.

He slid inside the huntress’s tight hot and wet snatch as she accepted him she moaned. Feeling relieved the flames around Jihyo died down as Jihyo took more of Theseus’s cock inside of her.

“Fuck! Fuck!” She moaned in between methodical and powerful thrust. Theseus watched as her yiddies bounced mesmerically. Jihyo stared at Theseus watching him fall deeper into her charms.

“Grab them she commanded and Theseus did. Jihyo moaned even greater as his hands cupped her chest. He got lost in the suppleness but also the firmness of her breasts as he continued thrusting. Jihyo convulsed as she felt his hands run wild over her breasts. She moaned as he massaged and kneaded them.

“Do you like them?” Jihyo asked.

Theseus moaned as he nodded, “your body is evil!” He yelled. So hot and tempting

Jihyo laughed and challenged, “what are you gonna do about it?”

The marks of her demonic heritage grew all over as the flames began roaring going from crimson and orange to indigo and pink. She moaned before yelping in surprise as Theseus picked her up and continued fucking her.

“Keep going!” Jihyo screamed as his cock tore through her.

Theseus moaned as her pussy clamped down on his cock until he exploded inside of her. Jihyo moaned as he kept going sending her over her peak until she came. She gushed all over his cock leaving him drenched as she twitched and moaned.

The flames died down around Jihyo but she felt something in her shift. As if Theseus had awakened something inside of her.

Theseus sat beside Jihyo on the couch, her head resting lightly on his shoulder. The night was quiet now. No weapons. No threats. Just the steady rhythm of shared breathing and the slow, undeniable warmth that had grown between them.

He glanced down at her, surprised at how peaceful she looked. Jihyo — the storm — finally still.

Before long, sleep claimed them both.

⸻

In his dreams, she was everywhere — darting through his thoughts like a spark he couldn’t catch. He saw flashes of her laugh, the way she fought, the look in her eyes when she almost kissed him for the first time.

Jihyo’s dream was gentler. She saw herself dancing barefoot in a sunlit garden, spinning in circles, arms wide, laughter echoing like windchimes. Theseus was there too — distant at first, then slowly drawing near, hands outstretched.

⸻

The knocking shattered the moment.

Bang bang bang.

Both of them stirred with a jolt. Disoriented, tangled under a blanket that hadn’t been there before.

Jihyo blinked. “What the hell—?”

Theseus groaned. “Please tell me that’s not real.”

Another knock. More impatient this time.

Scrambling, they untangled themselves from the blanket, trying to piece together what happened. His shirt was missing. Her jacket had vanished. In the chaos, Jihyo accidentally yanked Theseus’s oversized hoodie over her head while trying to find her top, and Theseus, flustered and half-awake, shoved her beanie onto his head by mistake.

They froze, glancing at each other.

“…I don’t think this is a good look,” Jihyo mumbled, the hoodie practically swallowing her whole.

“You think?” Theseus muttered, adjusting the beanie that was far too snug.

The knocking came again.

With a sigh, he stumbled toward the door and cracked it open — still wearing her beanie.

Megara and Dino stood outside, holding coffee and paper bags.

Megara took one look at him and blinked. “Why are you wearing a pink beanie?”

Theseus opened his mouth. Closed it. “I… was cold?”

Dino leaned to the side, spotting Jihyo peeking out from the blanket behind him in his hoodie.

“Ah,” Dino grinned, elbowing Megara. “Guess diplomacy’s going well.”

Jihyo groaned from the couch. “Don’t start.”

Megara smirked. “We brought breakfast. But maybe we’ll come back in, say, twenty minutes?”

“Make it thirty,” Jihyo called out, already pulling the hood up over her face.

Theseus didn’t even argue. He just nodded and shut the door.

As they finally got dressed properly, Theseus tugged on his rumpled pants and glanced at Jihyo, who was sprawled across the bed, still lounging in his hoodie.

“You owe me a new outfit,” he muttered, buttoning his shirt halfway.

Jihyo smirked, stretching lazily. “If you keep fucking me like last night, I’ll buy you anything you want.”

He laughed, rolling his eyes. “You are dangerously generous when you’re smug.”

She grinned, then blinked — noticing deep red claw marks trailing across his back. Her smirk faded.

“Huh.”

He turned. “What?”

Jihyo stood and ran a finger lightly along one of the scratches. “Demons don’t scar like humans.” Her voice dropped, thoughtful. “But you do.”

“That’s because I’m not a demon,” Theseus said plainly.

Jihyo’s eyes narrowed. “Okay then. So what are you?”

He exhaled and gave a small shrug. “I’m a Slayer. Born human. Strong enough to kill demons, fast enough to survive them. But I don’t belong to either side.”

Jihyo crossed her arms, skeptical. “You expect me to believe that?”

He raised both hands. “Do I look like I’ve got demon marks?”

She gave him a long, calculating look, taking in his lean form, his scars, his eyes. Then sighed.

“No… you don’t.”

“Exactly,” he said. “But most hunters don’t ask. They just come swinging. So I usually respond with a shot between the eyes or straight through the heart. Saves time.”

She smirked. “What about me?”

“What about you?” he asked, genuinely curious.

“You didn’t go for the kill.”

Theseus chuckled, stepping in to kiss her on the cheek. She let out a small, surprised yelp.

“I kinda did,” he said with a grin. “Just not through the ribcage.”

Jihyo rolled her eyes, but a faint blush crept up her neck. “Okay, Mr. Slayer,” she teased. “But what’s your plan for the other hunters? You can’t seduce all of them.”

He shrugged. “I only really need to avoid you. The rest won’t be expecting me.”

Jihyo raised an eyebrow. “Good answer,” she said, stepping closer, her voice low and possessive. “Because you’re mine now.”

Her aura pulsed — a flicker of demonic energy behind her eyes, like a storm rolling in under calm skies.

Theseus felt the shift, the tension building again — fast and hot. He quickly placed a hand on her shoulder, holding her back.

“Nope. Not happening. I’ve got a radio show to prep for.”

Jihyo blinked. “What radio show?”

He sighed. “The one I’m scheduled to be on for my world tour? You know — the thing I’m currently doing?”

“Oh. You’re an artist?” she asked, blinking in genuine curiosity.

“Yeah,” he replied. “Metal act. Name’s Malevolence. Technically it’s a one-man show, but the name sounds cooler when it sounds like a band.”

She gave him a slow, surprised smile. “Damn. A slayer with stage presence. I really am keeping you.”

He snorted. “I’m flattered. Now get out of my hoodie.”

Jihyo yawned and flopped back onto the bed. “Make me.”

Theseus stared at her for a beat, then turned around before she could tempt him further. “I swear you’re trying to sabotage me.”

“Not sabotage,” she called after him, voice dripping with smugness. “Just claiming what’s mine.”

The sunlight was annoyingly bright when Jihyo stepped outside, hoodie still clinging to her frame like a guilty pleasure. It smelled like him — smoky, musky, warm — and for once, she didn’t mind being marked. She looked at the design on it. It seemed like English but the font was all “fuzzy,” Jihyo thought to herself trying to read it.

She tugged the zipper up halfway, hands buried in the front pocket as she slipped into the bathroom and opened a warp sigil back to her apartment. A sigh left her lips as she stepped inside, the familiar scent of coffee beans, lavender, and faint brimstone greeting her like an old friend.

She leaned against the door for a moment, her head tilted back.

What the hell was that last night?

It had started as a stakeout. A clean kill. Observe, interrogate, execute. And now she was home in his hoodie and bite marks left on his collarbone, memories of growled praise and tangled limbs still replaying like a song stuck on loop.

Jihyo groaned and shoved her face into her hands. “you’re an idiot.”

She finally peeled the hoodie off and tossed it over a chair before dragging herself into the bathroom. Her reflection stared back at her — wild hair, a few new bruises, lips that still looked a little too swollen.

She smirked. Her eyes flashed violet for a minute as she felt the demonic fire within rage inside of her.

Yeah, okay. She wasn’t mad about it.

She decided to shower before meeting with Chaeyoung and Jeongyeon As the water from the shower warmed up, she texted the group chat:

Jihyo: Home. On the way in 30. Don’t start without me.

Jeongyeon: We’re at the spa already. You’re late.

Chaeyoung: Bring snacks or suffer <3

She rolled her eyes but smiled. The spa day had been planned weeks ago — a post-mission/ tour treat for surviving another near-disaster involving a possessed subway and a rogue succubus cult. Honestly, Jihyo was just glad she wasn’t limping from that mission.

She grabbed her favorite black leggings, a flowy crop top, and tossed her damp hair into a half-messy bun. Her gaze lingered on the hoodie for a moment — Theseus’s scent still clinging to it like a memory that hadn’t fully left.

She debated taking it.

“Nope,” she muttered. “They’d smell the testosterone a mile away.”

She opted for a clean jacket, something neutral and unassuming, and added just enough concealer to hide the love bite peeking above her collarbone. Just because she wasn’t ashamed didn’t mean she was ready for the third-degree.

Still, as she packed her bag and slid into her shoes, she couldn’t help the small smile tugging at her lips.

They were absolutely going to find out.

And she absolutely deserved this moment.

Jihyo tapped her fingers on the steering wheel, a slight smirk tugging at her lips as she tuned into the radio station Theseus had mentioned. The static faded just in time for her to catch the tail end of the host’s intro.

“As promised, we’ve got the mosh pit king himself, the mind behind Malevolence — Theseus!”

Applause and background cheers filled the car’s speakers, and Jihyo couldn’t help but laugh softly at how composed he sounded, compared to the absolute menace he’d been last night.

Then one of the hosts let out a sudden gasp. “Wait—are you wearing a TWICE shirt?! Are you a ONCE?!”

There was a pause, then his voice, smooth and low as ever: “Yeah, been one since, like, 2019. Actually, that’s how I met my manager, Megara. We were both fans first. After my first song blew up, she helped me keep my life from crashing into hellfire.”

Jihyo raised a brow. That tracked. Megara had the cool-headed ruthlessness of someone who probably used spreadsheets to schedule destruction.

“Oh, so you’ve been with the same team since the beginning?” another host asked.

“Pretty much. Ride or die.”

The hosts drifted into English banter after that — some quips about tour antics and mosh pit etiquette that Jihyo only caught in fragments — but before she could piece it together, she was pulling into the spa parking lot.

Hand on the ignition, she was just about to shut off the engine when one final question caught her attention.

“So, would you ever invite TWICE to one of your shows?”

There was a beat. She imagined his lopsided grin as he answered, “They’re always welcome.”

Jihyo bit her lip, warmth creeping up her neck.

But then came the kicker.

“Okay, last TWICE question — who’s your bias?”

Her heart skipped. She leaned in.

There was a teasing pause. Then: “It was Jihyo… but due to some recent developments, I think it’s Momo now.”

Jihyo blinked. Her jaw dropped.

What.

“Oh, hell no,” she muttered aloud as she shut the car off. “He’s getting punished.”

Still fuming — though secretly flattered — she adjusted her jacket and strutted toward the spa, already plotting exactly how she’d “correct” his bias in the very near future.

Steam curled lazily in the cedar-scented air as Jihyo stepped through the glass doors of the private bathhouse. The faint hum of conversation, mixed with the soft bubbling of hot water, wrapped around her like a warm towel. She spotted Chaeyoung and Jeongyeon already soaking in the water, drinks on the nearby ledge, their hair tied up in matching towels like tiny crowns of mischief.

“Hey!” Jeongyeon called, waving her hand as she leaned back. “Look who decided to grace us with her presence.”

Chaeyoung smirked, her cheeks already pink from the heat. “You’re late. Don’t think we didn’t notice.”

Jihyo chuckled and slid out of her robe, stepping into the bath with a contented sigh. “I got caught in traffic.”

“That’s what you’re calling it now?” Jeongyeon teased. “Traffic?”

Before Jihyo could shoot back a retort, a familiar voice drifted from the Bluetooth speaker resting on the edge of the tub.

“…and our guest today is none other than Theseus of Malevolence, currently on tour and somehow still managing to look like he crawled out of the underworld in style.”

Jihyo stiffened slightly, but kept her expression cool. Chaeyoung caught the shift instantly.

“Oh yeah, I forgot to mention—we’ve been listening to the interview while we waited,” Chaeyoung said, grinning. “I can turn it off if you want,”

Jihyo shook her head and said, “No he sounds nice and his voice is surprisingly soothing,”

Chaeyoung turned to her leader surprised and said, “didn’t even know you listened to this guy until now.”

Jihyo rolled her eyes and said, “no his voice is just calming.

Jeongyeon leaned in, her tone teasing but curious. “You do know he’s kind of a big deal, right? Like… underground god of metal and chaos? Total demon hunter fantasy fuel?”

Jihyo scoffed. “Okay and?.”

“Please,” Chaeyoung said with a knowing smirk. “ you expect us to believe that you aren’t into the whole bad boy from America thing?”

Jihyo rolled her eyes but kept her poker face. “You’re both ridiculous.”

“Mmhmm,” Jeongyeon hummed. “So how did that demon hunt go, anyway? You ran off so suddenly.”

Jihyo reached for her tea, taking a slow sip to buy herself time.

“It got messy,” she said, finally. “Turned out to be stronger than intel suggested. I had to call in backup.”

Chaeyoung raised a brow. “Oh?”

“Yeah,” Jihyo continued smoothly. “Got help from this American hunter. Real heavy-hitter type. Kind of a lone wolf but good in a fight.”

Jeongyeon narrowed her eyes. “Name?”

Jihyo pretended to think. “I think he just goes by ‘Dio.’” She forced herself not to smile at her own audacity. “Real quiet, didn’t talk much, but he knew how to handle himself.”

Chaeyoung blinked. Then blinked again. “Wait… Dio? Like Jojo’s?”

Jihyo shrugged, giving them the perfect blend of mystery and misdirection. “I doubt it. Common enough name, right?”

Before they could press further, the interview picked up again.

“Okay, last TWICE question,” said the host on the speaker. “Who’s your bias?”

Jihyo braced.

“It was Jihyo,” Theseus’s voice drawled, “but due to some recent developments… I think it’s Momo now.”

Chaeyoung snorted. “Wow. Ruthless.”

Jihyo’s expression didn’t flinch, but the heat in her cheeks had nothing to do with the bathwater. “He’s got jokes,” she said coolly. “Probably just trying to bait clicks.”

Jeongyeon gave her a sideways look. “You okay?”

“Perfectly fine,” Jihyo said with a sweet, dangerous smile. “I’ll just have to return the favor next time I see him.”

Chaeyoung laughed. “Damn. Remind me not to cross you.”

Jihyo leaned back, letting her head rest against the tiled edge, her eyes closing for a brief moment as steam kissed her face.

So far so good, she thought. But if they find that hoodie in my laundry, I’m screwed.

A gentle splash echoed through the bathhouse as Chaeyoung stretched out her arms with a groan of bliss. “Ugh, this is heaven. My shoulders feel like they’ve finally forgiven me.”

“I swear,” Jeongyeon added, adjusting the cold towel on her forehead, “every time we do this, I realize how desperately I need it. And how much I hate cardio.”

“You hate everything that isn’t bubble tea and sleep,” Chaeyoung quipped.

“Fair.”

Jihyo let their voices drift around her like steam. Her fingers idly trailed the water’s surface, her expression contemplative behind the relaxed posture.

“So,” Jeongyeon began again, cocking a brow toward Jihyo, “what’s your mysterious American hunter look like, anyway? Asking for, y’know… purely professional curiosity.”

Jihyo’s lips twitched. “Tall. Sharp jaw. Tattooed. Quiet type with that whole ‘don’t ask what I’ve seen’ look.”

Chaeyoung’s eyes lit up. “Oh my god, like your exact type.”

Jeongyeon sipped her infused water with dramatic judgment. “And let me guess… muscles like sin and eyes like regret?”

“Something like that,” Jihyo said with maddening calm.

“Mmhmm.” Chaeyoung gave her a long look. “You know if you weren’t already the most dangerous one here, I’d be scared of you.”

“Still scared,” Jeongyeon muttered under her breath.

Jihyo tilted her head back against the tiles, her voice light. “You two really want to know what happened?”

Their eyes lit up in unison.

She opened one eye, smirked, and said, “Let’s just say… he owes me an outfit.”

The silence broke into chaotic splashing as Chaeyoung shrieked, “Jihyo!” and Jeongyeon practically choked on her drink.

“No! No way—you didn’t!”

“I’m not saying what happened,” Jihyo said innocently, “just that clothes were lost and now I’m owed one.”

Chaeyoung was blushing so hard she might have boiled the water around her. “You are so not allowed to keep that to yourself.”

Jeongyeon groaned, laughing despite herself. “This better not end up in a tabloid. Or worse, the demon registry.”

Jihyo shrugged, eyes gleaming. “It won’t he’s still human after all . Technically.”

“Technically sounds like trouble,” Chaeyoung warned.

“Yeah he is and Trouble owes me a jacket,” Jihyo replied.

Then, as the interview on the speaker wound down, her mind drifted back to Theseus’s voice — that teasing lilt, the way he said Momo with a smirk she could hear.

Her lips curved into something between a smirk and a promise. “Anyway, I’ve got plans for him.”

“Oh no,” Jeongyeon murmured, half-laughing, half-concerned. “What kind of plans?”

Jihyo stood, water cascading down her skin like silver. “The kind that makes you regret teasing the leader of Twice.”

Chaeyoung put a hand to her chest dramatically. “Please don’t kill him.”

Jihyo grabbed her towel and smiled sweetly. “Of course not. I’m just going to remind him who his real bias is.”

Later that evening, after the laughter, the warmth, and the scent of eucalyptus faded from her skin, Jihyo found herself standing in front of her vanity mirror, bathed in the soft amber glow of her apartment’s bathroom light.

Her fingers moved mechanically—dabbing cream under her eyes, brushing through the ends of her damp hair—but her mind wasn’t in the room. It was still spinning from everything.

From him.

Theseus.

From the weight of the night before.

From the heat that hadn’t fully left her body.

She leaned forward, inspecting her reflection, but froze.

For the briefest moment—less than a blink—her eyes weren’t brown.

They were violet.

Deep, unearthly. Crackling faintly with inner fire. Like twin smoldering coals in a perfect face.

Jihyo’s breath caught. “…No.”

She blinked rapidly. Brown again.

She held her breath and waited—there. The violet shimmer returned at the edges of her irises, creeping in like ink dropped in water. Unnatural. Hungry.

As she stared, the air around her seemed to ripple. The steam in the mirror thickened and distorted. Somewhere in the corners of the room, a low crackle of heat murmured—and then with a sudden fwoom—a small arc of violet flame licked up from the edge of the candle she hadn’t lit.

She turned sharply.

Another wisp of fire bloomed at the corner of the room, tiny, dancing, and then vanished as if embarrassed to be caught.

Jihyo backed away from the mirror, heart racing, but her blood wasn’t chilled—it was boiling. Her skin felt too tight, like there was something just under it, trying to claw its way to the surface.

“What the hell…” she whispered, her voice slightly layered now—like someone had added a second, softer version of herself underneath.

She gripped the sink, her nails biting into the porcelain. Her mind tried to rationalize it, but something primal in her spine already knew.

It wasn’t a one-time flare-up. It wasn’t going away.

Theseus had triggered something. Not just desire. Not just power.

Recognition.

A part of her—buried deep—had stirred.

And now it wanted out.

She looked back into the mirror. This time, her reflection didn’t copy her. Not right away.

It smirked first.

Violet eyes blazing, lips curling in wicked delight.

Then, only then, did it match her expression of dread.

Jihyo stepped back and hissed under her breath, “No. Not yet. I’m still in control.”

But the fire, even if only in flickers, said otherwise.

Despite her body practically screaming for her to go see Theseus, Jihyo made a different choice. She stayed with Momo.

A small, smug smile crept onto her face at the thought—spending time with his bias while he’s busy? A little petty, maybe. But satisfying.

As always, food was involved. Momo had suggested a quiet Korean BBQ spot just outside the city. The place was cozy, slightly worn, and always smelled like sizzling meat and garlic. Just how they liked it.

They were elbow-deep in lettuce wraps and perfectly charred bulgogi when Momo leaned forward, chewing thoughtfully.

“So,” she mumbled through a bite, “how’d that last hunt go?”

Jihyo swallowed, dabbing her lips with a napkin. “Tough one. But I had help—American hunter, kind of a weirdo.”

Momo snorted. “Let me guess. Asked for a lock of your hair or tried to lick your boots like that one creepy lady in Louisiana?”

Jihyo’s eyes widened and she waved her hands, laughing. “No, no! Nothing like that. He was actually… pretty normal. Just awkward. Kind of shy.”

“Oh good,” Momo said, exhaling with relief. “I didn’t want to have to fight him.”

Jihyo grinned slyly. “Please. He’s more likely to run from a fight than start one.”

Momo paused mid-bite, raising an eyebrow. “Wait, really?”

“Yeah. He took the demon out with his revolver, all efficient and no drama. Clean shot to the head. Then he just kind of… nodded and left.”

Momo blinked. “Huh. That’s actually kind of impressive.”

“Right?” Jihyo said with a shrug, feigning casualness while hiding the memory of violet eyes and the lingering heat in her skin.

Momo popped another bite into her mouth and said around it, “Still sounds like a nerd.”

Jihyo laughed, but her gaze drifted to the glowing grill between them. As the meat hissed and popped, she thought—not for the first time—about just how not normal that American hunter really was.

But for now, she’d let it lie.

Let the fire rest. It didn’t last long though.

The moment Jihyo stepped through her apartment door, she slammed it shut behind her and pressed her back to it. Her heart was thundering. Her skin—glowing. Not literally. Not yet.

But it was close.

Heat pooled in her chest, curling through her veins like molten metal. Her breath came shallow. Her fingers trembled as she pulled off her boots, barely making it down the hall before yanking off her jacket and tossing it to the floor.

She passed a mirror and caught sight of herself.

Her eyes were flickering again—deep violet flames pulsing in and out like they were syncing with her heartbeat. Her cheeks were flushed, lips parted, strands of hair clinging to her temples from a light sweat.

She looked… wild.

She felt feral.

Something inside her was howling.

The meal with Momo hadn’t helped. It had only reminded her of the growing ache—this need—coiling tighter every time she thought of him.

Theseus.

The way he touched her. The way he kissed her like she was something dangerous—and holy—and his.

And gods, the way her demon side responded to him.

No one had ever brought it out of her like that. Not even close.

She stormed into her bedroom and collapsed onto the edge of the bed, fingers already pulling out her phone. She opened Instagram—she didn’t even hesitate—tapping through to Theseus’s page.

The most recent photo was from earlier that day: a shot of him at the radio show, innocent and happy, face half-turned to the camera, flexing without meaning to. She almost growled.

Jihyo didn’t comment.

She hit Message.

And then she typed, her fingers fast, sharp.

[jihyo] Get over here. Now. I don’t care what you’re doing. If I don’t feel your mouth on me in 20 minutes I’m burning this building down.

She stared at the message for half a second.

Then she hit Send.

The instant she did, she felt the heat spike—like her body approved of the choice.

Her room dimmed as the air shimmered with low, supernatural heat. The violet in her eyes returned, brighter now. Hungry.

She stood up, pacing, hands running through her hair, teeth biting down on her bottom lip hard enough to draw blood.

Her phone buzzed.

She looked down.

[Theseus] …You okay?

She rolled her eyes, scowling.

[jihyo] No. I’m on fire. And you’re the only one who knows how to put it out.

Three dots blinked. Then stopped.

Then blinked again.

Finally:

[Theseus] On my way. Don’t combust without me.

She exhaled slowly, dropping the phone to the bed.

The flames around her body dimmed. Not gone. Not cooled. Just… waiting.

Waiting for him.

Fifteen minutes after she’d summoned him, Theseus stood at Jihyo’s door—sweat already beading on his brow.

The moment he stepped inside, it hit him: heat. Dense. Radiant. Almost alive. The air shimmered with it, thick and charged, like a furnace wrapped in silk. His breath caught in his throat. It wasn’t just hot—it was otherworldly.

The closer he got to her bedroom, the stronger it grew. His steps slowed. He felt it in his bones—something ancient and wild pulsing behind that door.

He pushed it open.

And froze.

Jihyo was waiting, perched at the edge of her bed like a queen on a pyre. Indigo and rose-gold flames crackled in a perfect circle around the mattress, casting dancing shadows across her bare shoulders and glowing skin. Her demon marks shimmered across her body in slow, hypnotic patterns—alive and moving. Her irises were pure violet, radiant and alien. Her pupils blown wide, devouring him.

She smiled like sin wrapped in silk.

“My slayer arrives… right on time,” she purred.

Theseus felt his pulse spike. Lust. Awe. A very real sense of danger. This wasn’t the Jihyo from the spa, or even the one from last night. This was her unbound.

She rose with slow, deliberate grace. Her hips swayed. Her feet left trails of flame on the floor—blazing pink and violet fire that burned nothing, only sizzled with promise. The air warped behind her.

He barely noticed her hand on his chest until she stopped, eyes narrowing.

“I didn’t appreciate your little joke today,” she said, voice low and teasing—but with a warning edge.

Theseus blinked. “Joke?”

She pouted slightly, then said, “I am your bias. Not Momo.”

Ah.

He sighed, finally catching up. “It was just a tease—”

“Hmm,” Jihyo hummed, tilting her head. “You still need to be punished.”

Before he could speak, she grabbed him by the collar and pulled him into a deep, greedy kiss. Her lips crashed against his like a storm. Her fingers raked down his sides, tugging him closer. Flames flared around them, rising with every second.

Then, without warning, she pushed him backward onto the bed.

The fire-ring parted just enough to let him fall.

She climbed over him, eyes gleaming with hunger and heat, hair cascading around her shoulders like shadow and wildfire.

“You’re mine tonight,” she growled, her voice layered—human and demonic in harmony—as the flames pulsed around them, sealing them in.

And the bed didn’t burn.

But everything else would.

Jihyo’s lips crashed into Theseus’s again, deeper this time, hungrier. Her weight pressed into him as her hands explored, not with hesitation, but with ownership. Each kiss melted into the next, and with every second, the air grew thicker—not just from heat, but from something ancient uncoiling inside her. She rapaciously undressed herself while demanding Theseus remove his clothes.

The flames circling the bed flared outward in rhythm with her breath—no longer sharp and wild, but warm and worshipful, like they now danced for her.

Theseus barely noticed the shift at first—he was too wrapped in her mouth, in her scent, in the way her body moved against his like music only they could hear. But then he felt it.

The pulse.

A power blooming beneath her skin.

Her back arched above him, and her body trembled—not with fear, but with liberation. As if something she’d locked away her whole life had finally been set loose. Her moans carried a new harmony—layered, resonant, almost songlike. Her marks blazed to life in full, curling across her shoulders, ribs, thighs in glowing violet calligraphy. Her eyes shone brighter, not just violet now, but flecked with molten gold. She stared down at him before mounting him. Her body claiming what was rightfully hers.

With possessive violet eyes Jihyo stared at Theseus. Her gaze was both vulnerable and sultry

“Jihyo,” Theseus whispered, breathless, hands on her waist. “You’re…”

“Free,” she said, her voice a soft echo, like it came from both her and some great fire behind her. She leaned down, forehead against his. “With you… I don’t have to hide. I don’t have to hold it back.”

The flames that had roared earlier now kissed the air gently, like firelight at a temple. They caressed Theseus’s skin, not to scorch—but to bless. No pain. Just heat. Desire. Intimacy.

She kissed him again—slower this time. Her tongue traced his lip, her fingers tangling in his hair. When she pulled back, her irises were burning stars.

“I’ve spent so long pretending I was normal,” she said, voice trembling with truth. “Even with Chaeyoung. Even with Jeongyeon. But this part of me… it’s always been waiting. And now—now I don’t want to hide.”

“You don’t have to,” Theseus murmured, his voice low but firm. “Not from me.”

A breath caught in her throat.

Then she kissed him again, and this time it was all of her—woman and demon, softness and fire, fury and tenderness. She rode him with reverence and hunger, not as a demon out of control—but as a goddess claiming her offering.

And all the while, the flames curled around them like a veil.

A sanctuary.

Where no one else existed but the two of them, and the truth they no longer needed to deny. After an hour the heat within melted her desire into pure lust. She got on all fours and presented her swollen sopping pussy to Theseus.

“Fucking take it. Fuck me like you mean it!”

Theseus relaxed then plunged deep inside of her pussy. Jihyo moaned as he pulled out about halfway before thrusting back into her hard and deep.

“Fuck!” Jihyo groaned as Theseus continued his assault on her body. He put his left hand on her left hip and his right on her right shoulder to steady himself before sending another deep powerful thrust. Jihyo clawed at the sheets as Theseus railed her. Her flames rising and falling with each thrust until she came. Her peak was fierce and fiery as you’d imagine.

Her pussy locked around Theseus cock with an almost death like grip. Jihyo moaned and said, “fucking cum! Cum right now! I need it,” she yelled/growled.

Theseus ever the people pleaser complied. He painted her womb white as he spilled inside of her Jihyo purred as her flames died down. She was satiated for now.

The couple passed out shortly after exhausted by the endeavor.

Sunlight filtered through the curtains of Jihyo’s bedroom, casting a soft golden hue over the room. The flames were gone now, replaced by the smell of warm skin and the weight of silence between breaths.

Theseus lay back on the bed, one arm tucked beneath his head, the other gently resting on Jihyo’s bare back as she drew idle shapes on his chest with her fingers. The heat between them had cooled into something gentler—an intimacy no less intense, but now quieter.

“You sleep okay?” he asked, voice still rough with sleep.

Jihyo nodded but didn’t lift her head. “Better than I have in weeks.”

A pause.

Then, softer, “Can I ask you something?”

Theseus shifted slightly. “Course.”

Jihyo inhaled. “Do you ever… feel like the weight of everything caught up to you too fast? Like we started hunting so early, and now everyone looks at us like we’re these untouchable veterans, but I don’t know. Sometimes I see my friends—Chaeyoung, Nayeon, even Mina—catching up and doing amazing, and I just… wonder if I got here too early. If I missed something.”

Her voice broke a little at the end, and she turned her face slightly, ashamed.

Theseus didn’t speak immediately. He lifted his hand and brushed her hair away from her cheek, then tilted her chin up so their eyes met.

“Maybe they’re great now,” he said gently, “because of you. Maybe your leadership gave them the space to grow without burning out.”

Jihyo’s eyes shimmered.

And before she could stop herself, she threw her arms around his torso and buried her face in his neck. “You jerk,” she mumbled, voice thick with tears. “That’s—too sweet…”

He held her, rubbing small circles into her back. “You’re allowed to feel it, Jihyo. You don’t have to carry all of it alone anymore.”

They stayed like that for a while, her clinging to him, his arms wrapped securely around her, until she sniffled and leaned back with a small smile.

“When did you start hunting?” she asked, wiping her eyes.

He smirked. “Started training when I was ten.”

Her eyes widened. “Ten? That’s when I started too. Wait—how old are you?”

“Twenty-seven,” he said casually.

Jihyo blinked.

She smacked his chest with mock offense. “Ya! That makes me your noona! I started a year before you!”

He chuckled. “Guess I’m at your mercy then.”

“You already were,” she teased, but her smile turned a little shy, a little soft. “You’re seriously amazing though… and I’m glad I’m not the only one who started young.”

Theseus tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “We’re all a little scarred, Jihyo. But you? You turned yours into strength. Don’t ever doubt that.”

Jihyo leaned in and kissed him—not passionately this time, but deeply, tenderly.

“I won’t,” she said. “Not with you around.”

After that, Jihyo smiled and got up, practically prancing across the room with a light bounce in her step. She was radiant, humming to herself as she picked up a hair tie and tossed her hair into a loose ponytail.

Theseus followed a few seconds later, still groggy and dragging his feet like someone who hadn’t fully returned to the waking world. He squinted at the sunlight streaming in from the window.

“So,” Jihyo called over her shoulder, “when’s your show again?”

“Tomorrow night,” he mumbled, rubbing his eyes.

“Perfect,” she replied breezily. “I’m bringing Momo with me.”

“Of course you are,” he chuckled.

She nodded to herself, then added more casually, “When do you leave Korea?”

“The day after the show.”

“Good.” Jihyo turned, grinning from ear to ear. “Then we’ve got plenty of time to talk about you moving in with me!”

Theseus blinked. “What makes you think I want to move in with you?”

Jihyo smirked and gave him a slow, teasing look. “Because you’re mine now. And besides, I’ve still got things to finish here. But after that, we can live wherever we want.”

“Anywhere but Australia,” Theseus muttered.

Jihyo raised an eyebrow. “Why not?”

“I’ve seen the animals there. Giant spiders. 2 out of the three deadliest Snakes. Kangaroos that box. No thanks.”

Jihyo burst out laughing. “Mr. Slayer is scared of Aussie wildlife? Wow. Okay then—no Australia, you big baby.”

“Cool,” Theseus said, smirking. But his expression softened a little as he added, “Are you sure you want me though? I’m a relentless playboy. A flirt. Kind of a menace, honestly.”

Jihyo laughed—a full, delighted sound that filled the room. “I’ve seen your interviews. You’re a sweetheart. All that music, all the demon-slaying, and you’re still basically a textbook teddy bear boyfriend.”

Theseus squinted at her, defensive. “Just because I believe girls I like should be treated right doesn’t mean I’m a teddy bear.”

“Oh, it definitely does,” she teased, stepping in and wrapping her arms around him in a warm, tight hug. “And don’t worry—I like my plushy, soft, protective teddy bear boyfriend.”

Theseus let out a groan, but he melted into the hug anyway, arms sliding around her waist.

“Fine,” he muttered against her shoulder. “But I draw the line at matching pajamas.”

Jihyo grinned. “We’ll see.”

They lounged together for a while, basking in the morning calm before Theseus—despite his protests—got up to cook.

Jihyo watched from the counter, chin in hand, grinning like a cat who got the cream. “You really gonna cook for me right now? Just leaning into the teddy bear boyfriend role, huh?”

“Do you want to eat or not?” Theseus grumbled, cracking eggs with practiced ease.

“I mean, I’ll eat,” she said sweetly, “but I reserve the right to tease you relentlessly while you do it.”

And she did—commenting on everything from the way he sliced fruit to how he concentrated when flipping the pastries. But the moment she took the first bite, everything changed.

Jihyo let out a muffled squeal as she chewed, eyes going wide in delight. “Mmmf—wait. This is really good.”

Theseus raised an eyebrow. “Did you just make a sound that wasn’t a laugh or a command?”

She swallowed, eyes sparkling. “Wow. I didn’t know your face could do anything besides scowl when food’s involved.”

“Keep talking and I’ll make your eggs disappear.”

Jihyo laughed. “No no no—praise first. The pastry’s a little sweet, but the rest? Perfect.”

Theseus smirked as he poured himself some tea. “Glad I could impress Her Highness.”

Before she could reply, a sudden knock echoed through the apartment. Theseus looked toward the door, frowning.

“Expecting someone?” he asked.

“Nope,” Jihyo said, still chewing.

Theseus walked over cautiously, peered through the peephole—then blinked.

He turned back to her, deadpan. “Uh, Yo-yo? Not to alarm you or anything, but there’s a giant blue tiger at your door.”

Jihyo’s brow lifted. “Big orange eyes? Slightly crossed? Looks like it’s trying to intimidate the door frame?”

“Yeah, that’s the one.”

Jihyo smiled brightly. “Oh, that’s Rumi. And her boys. You can let them in, Teddy.”

Theseus narrowed his eyes. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me.”

He sighed, scowling as he opened the door.

Standing there was the massive blue tiger, staring at him with mild confusion—and behind it, a tall woman with dark red hair and a relaxed but unmistakably commanding presence.

Rumi, the leader of Huntrix, gave him a once-over and smiled coolly. “Morning. Smells good in here.”

She stepped in like she owned the place.

Theseus shut the door behind her, muttering, “Why does everyone in this country just waltz in like they pay rent…”

Jihyo, already halfway through her breakfast, grinned. “Because they’re family, Teddy.”

Rumi strode in with feline grace, her boots making almost no sound despite the weight of her presence. The blue tiger—twice the size of a lion and still somehow not threatening but endearing—slunk in behind her and promptly curled up by the window like it owned the place. a small bird perched above it's head with a tiny hat.

Jihyo didn’t flinch. She just took another bite of her breakfast and raised her brows. “To what do I owe the royal visit?”

Rumi smirked. “Heard some interesting things through the grapevine. Something about Twice's leader summoning a male slayer through Instagram like a thirsty demon in heat.”

Theseus, halfway through pouring himself more tea, choked.

Jihyo gave Rumi a withering glare. “Please tell me you didn’t get that from Chaeyoung.”

“Jeongyeon, actually,” Rumi said, sinking gracefully onto the arm of the couch. “Chaeyoung just screamed into a pillow when she found out.”

“I told them I had backup from an American hunter,” Jihyo muttered, stabbing a slice of fruit with her fork.

Rumi’s eyes flicked over to Theseus, who stood off to the side with quiet wariness—shirt half-untucked, hair still sleep-mussed. She studied him the way a queen studies a knight who might one day marry her general. Or try to kill her.

“So you’re the Slayer,” she said casually, swirling the words like wine in her mouth. “Not bad looking. Taller than I thought.”

Theseus blinked. “Thanks… I think ?”

Jihyo leaned toward Rumi. “Please don’t interrogate him.”

“I would never,” Rumi said with a grin. Then to Theseus, “But if I were going to, I’d probably ask what your intentions are with our dear Jihyo. Seeing as she’s glowing and floating around her apartment like she’s been possessed.”

Jihyo groaned, burying her face in her hands. “Unnie, please.”

Theseus, to his credit, didn’t flinch. He met Rumi’s gaze head-on. “I don’t have an agenda. But I respect her strength. She is a bit…more than I expected.”

Rumi gave a thoughtful nod, clearly enjoying herself. “That’s fair. And you’re not too much of a coward—considering you opened the door for a tiger with crossed eyes.”

“I was told to,” Theseus said dryly, shooting Jihyo a glance.

“She does have that effect,” Rumi mused.

Jihyo finally sat up straighter and cleared her throat. “Okay. You’ve sized him up, you’ve teased me, you’ve let your giant cat take over the sunniest part of my apartment. Is there anything important you came here for?”

Rumi shrugged. “Just wanted to see you with my own eyes. You’ve been different lately.”

Jihyo raised an eyebrow. “Different how?”

Rumi gave a small, real smile. “Happier. more fiery, but also sweeter, i don't know. Softer I guess. Like you finally put the armor down.”

Jihyo blinked. That hit harder than she expected.

Rumi stood and ruffled Jihyo’s hair as she walked by. “I like it. Don’t lose your edge—but don’t be afraid to let someone hold your blade for a while either.”

Theseus laughed before saying, "Funny thing is I don't really do swords. I more of a mace/ club guy."

Rumi couldn't have rolled her eyes harder.

She paused at the door, then glanced back at Theseus. “You hurt her, I won’t send the tiger. I’ll come myself.”

“Fair,” Theseus said without hesitation.

Rumi gave a wink. “Smart boy.”

She snapped her fingers once, and the tiger heaved itself up, stretched luxuriously, and padded after her with a lazy swish of its tail. It approached Theseus with a cautious gaze before butting itself into his body. Smiling and purring as Theseus pet him before the giant cat left with Rumi by phasing through the door

As the door closed behind them, Theseus exhaled slowly. “Is it always like that with her?”

Jihyo smirked. “She’s actually being nice today.”

Theseus blinked. “That was nice?”

Jihyo chuckled, got up from her chair, and draped her arms around his shoulders. “Relax, Teddy. You passed.”

He glanced at the door, then at her. “Barely.”

“But you did,” she said, planting a kiss on his cheek. “And that’s all that matters.”

[d-lanx]

Ok here's a little thing i thought would fun for any artists to show off their progress at learning art (plus I'm nosey🤭).

Show off the oldest drawings you did (or the oldest that you can still find), the first things you were confident enough to upload online, and your most recent drawings and talk about them and show off how much you've progressed :)

Probably gonna end up missing some people, but I'm tagging a bunch of cool artists I follow/am mutuals with and am nosey to see how they started out, but no pressure :)

@fantasticalleigh, @thlayli-ra, @heelhausen, @stupidmarkzone, @2ndcitynightmare, @punk-o-ween, @normallypassingby, @tvheit, @seasonal-depression-of-punk

And if you wanna have a look at my old stuff, I've got it below =)

Oldest Drawings I Can Find

Of course, the first is an OC. Never did anything with her tho. Notice the lack of forehead and elbows, the arms that barely reach the hips, how indishtinguishable each part of the body is from one another. They're a perfectly smooth pole. and of course those wings. This is the first thing in my first proper sketchbook when I decided I was gonna start taking art more seriously. This would have been when i started secondary in 2014 at 11 years old. And I can't find anything from before that, since I never kept anything in a proper book/folder.

Second image is another of the first drawings in the book. It was my first closeup of a face, and also my first time drawing anime. I know I'm not the only artist who was desperate to learn to draw an anime-style as a kid. I remember doing this while on holiday, trying to follow an online tutorial, taking about 4 hours to get the outcome I did, and getting so frustrated that I couldn't get it to look right, that I was almost brought to tears. I'm pretty sure this was one of those "I'm never drawing again! >:(" moments, lol. Looking back, it was a pretty good first attempt. But I guess I was always a bit of a perfectionist, lol. Funnily enough, while I carried the anime eyes forward in my art style for years, to this day, I still can't draw a proper full anime style character.

First Drawings I Uploaded Online

I put these on insta to show my mates from school. The first picture was an attempt at a close up face with the new brush markers i'd got for christmas. This was 2017 just before i turned 14. Pretty sure I copied the design from an art tutorial book, that was supposed to be hyper-realistic (another christmas present). But I just couldn't bring that to life so just did what I could. Also, first time I used a signature. My signature's very different nowadays cos it's based on my tumblr username and not me actual name. But yeah. I was tryna get more professional I guess.

Second pic is the first full body piece I uploaded a few days later. Again, used the drawing books trying to learn how to draw flowy clothes. Think it was a book about drawing anime clothes that I used for this (another christmas present). By this point, each body part could move seperately and had joints. Also note the anime eyes, cos my simpler-but-still-anime-inspired eyes were something I stuck with a long ass time. This was the style I drew most often, and could usually do without having references (but obviously for this drawing specifically, I had the reference for the clothes). Had a lot of trouble with perspective, so all my characters faced forward, and later they would always face a 3/4 angle. And they could never lean or reach forwards cos I just couldn't get that to look right.

Most Recent Pieces

The most most recent is on the left, being my most recent closeup of a face. Still has a cartoonish edge with the lineart but much more realistic. And I'm fucking with this semi-realistic look atm. Tbh I dunno if i'd have the patience for the tiny details in hyperrealism. Also, fun story, in 2021 when I was doing my a-levels, I did an art piece that we were free to do in any style we wanted, and my teacher saw mine and was like “I wish you’d done it as realism instead of a cartoon style :(“ but it was actually my best attempt at realism and she hadn’t even realised. So I dunno, maybe I’m not cut out for realism 😂😂 I like my style rn tho so who cares

Then I got my most recent drawing of a (almost) full body. I got joints and decent hands and proportions and more body details.

Also this last year is the first time I've really got into digital. I always used to just do pen and paper. I even got a cheap drawing tablet, but couldn't get used to drawing on one surface and the image being up on a seperate screen. So I could never get the lines right. I did draw on my old ipad for a while which was easier, but the stylus was one of those with the thick rubber ball on the end, rather than a fine nib. Again, I had trouble cos I couldn't tell where it would register the contact with the screen and draw the line, which made it hard to do details. I got a new ipad a little while back that supports apple pencil, so I got one for it. And it's so much easier now that I've got a fine nib and can see where I'm drawing. I'm in love with drawing digital atm.

But yeah. That's how i've drawn over the years. Mental to see how much my style has changed and improved :) makes me feel better when I get frustrated with a drawnig and think I'm shit. Cos I know I'm getting better with each new drawing, even if it's only baby steps.

First: Now:

[lullabyalikpoptarot]

enhypen sexual energy and how they view sex in general? like if they really like it or its more a task? or something they have to do for opportunities and all..

Oh, it has been a minute since I checks their sexual energy, so let's see if anything shifted and where they are at.

Heesung (King of Wands) This is very powerful sexual energy here. He is someone who can control his urges, but I can see him being in the energy for sex with this energy. He seems bold, confident and ambitious at the moment. But this isn't playboy energy or someone who just hooks up with anyone. It would be for a specific person. But he radiates sexual charm.

Jay (5 of Swords) Yeah, his energy is not that great. Sex can create conflicts for him. There seems to be a lack of compromise when it comes to sex or just disagreements. He could be smug, and not willing to take advice from the other party. He isn't really open for effective dialogue and communication, or he becomes at odds with others which makes it hard for him to get laid or have sex.

Jake (Knight of Wands) I love Jake, because he doesn't hold back and tells me exactly what I expected. He is horny and willing to fu** anyone or anything. He is not keeping it in his pants, sorry, you will not convince this dude isn't sleeping around. And whatever he is a young handsome dude, if women or men are willing to give in it, that is on them. I say do you Jake. I am not judging, just find him funny that he doesn't hold back when I read for him. He is like yeah, I am horny and what lol

Sunghoon (The Fool) So, he should be careful with this energy, because they can make foolish mistakes, so put a condom on dude. I say this man is open to try new things, so I can see him sexually wanting to explore things he hasn't tried before and take chances on trying new things. He kind of has this carefree energy, a bit foolish, so that is why I say be careful dude. I can just see him making careless mistakes when it comes to sex, but yeah, he seems open to sexual opportunities here, but he wants something new.

Sunoo (2 of Cups) I say with Sunoo sex with someone needs to be intimate and he needs to be in a strong connection and bond. He needs to trust that person, so this man will not have sex just to have it. There needs to be a strong bond there. A strong emotional/spiritual connection first.

Jungwon (King of Pentacles) He would see sex as a chore or task. I don't think he is really active sexually. I see him focus on his money and goals. Sex is not on this man's mind, or he isn't really interested in sex right now. He's got other priorities. So, nothing for him on this end.

Riki (King of Pentacles) Similar to Jungwon, I wanted another card, because I wanted something different. He got the Empress, so this is creative, mother energy. He may long for someone to have sex with, someone creative and abundant, but not sure he has found that person yet, so he does have that sexual energy latent in him, but he seems to be cautious with who he sleeps with and will do it when the right person comes along. He may refer someone older as well, with more experience.

Okay, that was fun, and of course, always some interesting tea here with this group.

[m0r1bund]

I know most artists are probably annoyed to hell and back with art advice questions…

No idea on your stance so I’ll ask

How do you do format your backgrounds?? Like the perspective, the empty space versus detail, what shape to make the canvas, all that stuff, idk.

I can imagine detailed stuff in my head but in practice I flounder to even begin to put it to paper so is there some sort of method to the madness?

Lastly, do you think it’s a good idea to start by drawing over real life images as a way to learn?

That’s all, thank you

Hi, sorry this took a while. No worries about asking, I’ve been there and I think we sometimes underestimate how much people like to feel helpful and to talk about their process. I have an awful memory, so it’s hard for me to retrace my steps sometimes, but I’ll try!

I remember being in a similar place where my mind’s eye was far ahead of my technical skill. This still happens, I don’t think it ever really goes away, I just remember it feeling especially pronounced and frustrating when I was younger.

context: I used to be really frustrated with my inability to finish or even start large, meticulously detailed pieces, especially landscapes and environmental pieces. This changed as my technical skill started to catch up with my mind’s eye, and I could execute things faster and faster, before my brain would arbitrarily decide a piece was “done.” I’ve had this lifelong tension between trying to become a faster artist so that I can strike while the iron is hot, while also accepting that my brain is wired a certain way, I don’t have to make myself suffer by working against my own brain, and it’s OK to make slow art. for all the grief it gives me, the ADHD hyperfocus / state of flow is part of the process and I do genuinely love it.

So with that in mind, here’s some pointers that I’ve personally found useful.

done > perfect, started > not started, always and forever. Lower the bar as much as you need to. I think this can be rough for those who are less motivated by the process and more by communicating something as it exists in their head. Unfortunately I am learning this lesson over and over, that a piece simply will not happen unless I make it feasible for myself. Can it be done faster and shittier? Can you settle for getting one or two things “right” and letting the rest turn out how it may?  

Taking up photography, studying photographers, and yes, tracing / photobashing / painting over photos (with appropriate permission.) Sometimes it’s more intuitive to find the composition than it is to make it from scratch. I’m lucky to live in the place that I draw, so it takes less guess-work to translate it to my art, but I also just think it’s fun to cultivate an eye for composition using the world around you.   I think creating your own references also teaches you things that studying curated art will not. You interacted with the space in-person, so you have valuable insight into how the space feels and the relationship between objects that you can’t glean just from a picture. It’s also got the beauty of the amateur’s eye. Contrast won’t be perfectly balanced, you’ll get to work with weird color combos under weirder lighting, things won’t be massed very intentionally, etc. What’s interesting to you about the subject is ultimately unique to you, and you get to bring that out.   Video game photography is another fun way of studying someone else’s work. Virtual landscapes are intentionally composed, down to the massing/lighting/visual clutter, so in a competently-designed environment it’s easier to find picturesque vistas or neat places to stage your subject. More fun, maybe less frustrating than exploring an environment that isn’t similar to one you want to depict.   I like sandbox games for DIY scene-setting too. Staging stuff in blender, making rough clay models, whatever you need to do to feel out the space.  

Ditto the above for studying other mediums that you enjoy. I feel like it’s glaringly obvious when I want something to be a 10-part animated series or, like, a tapestry, because that’s just where I go to when I’m pulling from my mental library.   Maybe part of why I gravitated to film and animation is because you can see changes in composition, focus, perspective, etc. happening in real time, so it’s easier to notice them, and to reflect on how they change the meaning of the scene.  

Leveraging your limits. Limited palette, limited time, limited scope, whatever. Easier to play with values when you’re working in black and white than when you add color to the mix. And hey, what can you uniquely do when you’re working under certain limits that you can’t do if you had free reign of a blank canvas? Pixel art, polychrome pottery, noir… The limits of a form make it memorable, or however that saying goes.  

Massing detail and polish around the focal point of the piece. I don’t think I’m very intentional about this with my finished work, I usually play with contrast or negative space to bring attention to things. but I often do this with my quick-and-dirty art like Basedt and Threadbare. I polish the bare minimum to communicate what I need to, and then leave the rest to imagination.   like anything else it’s just another tool in your toolbox, not as useful to those with very detailed work that choose to guide the eye in other ways.  

Thinking of the environment as its own character(s). Some of us get into art because we’re having fun drawing our favorite characters or our OCs, so backgrounds are just that--- backgrounds, scene-setting, all secondary to the main event, not as interesting or exciting to draw. I am personally trying to get rid of the mental boundary between subject and environment, because that’s more in line with how I feel about worldbuilding and life in general. They’re inseparable, they feed into one another, and it does me better to think about them holistically.   Corollary to that: Environments can be fun! A lot of people think of them as drudgery, but I don’t think you have to self-flagellate doing a hundred still-life master studies if that’s not the most efficient way for you to learn. We can and should do difficult things, but I don’t know, I think you can trick yourself into getting excited about drawing cars or buildings or rocks. For me, it’s exciting to explore my headworlds through the eyes of the fake people who live in my head. I guess having that touchstone of something that’s familiar alongside something that’s unfamiliar makes it more fun. When the switch finally flipped, it was really rewarding to realize I was scribbling landscapes as the “main event,” and the inclusion of a character was a last-minute thing if it happened at all. It can be fun! It doesn’t have to suck! But it takes time.  

OK, I think that’s all I got right now. As usual, glean what’s useful to you and forget the rest. There are others who can speak more competently about technical stuff than I can, and I’m sure I’m overlooking something obvious. this is just what sticks with me, personally.

[papiermacheforever]

back at it again at krispy creme

[sundial-bee-scribbles]

"my education is my highest priority" everything returns to vocaloid

[th3-real-sonic]

01001000 01100101 01101100 01101100 01101111 00111111

⟩⟩ I am the real Sonic.

Hey hey!! I'm Trey, this is a metal sonic RP blog! I've never done something like this before, but I saw someone else do an rp blog and it seemed pretty fun so here we are (⁠◍⁠•⁠ᴗ⁠•⁠◍⁠)

Reblogs are appreciated! Plis...

main blog : @treymeow

Rules :

★ No NSFW!!

★ Shipping!!

I only have like two ships for metal - metamy and metal sonadow - and those are like the only ships ill interact with if any at all, my focus on this blog will definitely not be shipping but maybe ill sprinkle some of the two mentioned in from time to time

★ Make sure to specify whether you'd like ME or METAL to answer your ask, I can see myself being confused as to who's being asked what lol (it doesn't have to be much, a simple "Trey" or "Metal" in the question should be enough; eg. "Metal, who do you like most?", etc. If this is not specified the default will be Metal answering, unless i dont want to; or I just ignore it cuz idk)

★ Not so much a rule, but - this RP blog takes place BEFORE Metal Sonic realises he's not the real Sonic.

★ Uhhh i'll add more if i think of more i guess?? I'm out of ideas for rules thats pretty much it icl

Tags :

★ #ask

Replies to asks from u guys!!

★ #ooc or #ic

These will specify whether its me or metal answering the question ("out of character" or "in character")

★ #a/n

This is added if some of the post is in character but I have left a small note at the end, middle, or start; and authors note, if you will... lol

★ #tagged

for when one you you guys tag me in something! I will try to respond with the best of my abilities in character whenever it does happen, unless you specify that I myself are to respond :3

★ #text post

Text posts from me (ic or ooc) that are unrelated to any ask in particular unless stated otherwise

★ #art post/#picture post

a post from me (ic or ooc) that contains a drawing /picture that can be related to an ask but doesn't need to be

Blog created January 12th 2025

[honey-tongued-devil]

[Arcane preference]reacting to their s/o calling them husband/wife for the first time

I’ve finished the first chapter of the long fic about Universe 7 (Anytime it rains). As soon as my second beta reader gives me the okay, I’ll post it. While I wait, I’ve written the first headcanon (out of three I’m definitely planning to write and post in the next few days) and picked up the drawing of Steb I’d left unfinished. I’m slow, as usual, but English isn’t my first language, and I’m juggling a lot of things at once. Enjoy!

socials: | INPRNT | | Tip Jar | | X | | BlueSky | | Ao3 | poster: | Jayce poster | | Silco poster | |Silco +self insert poster 1| | Steb poster | if you want to read the fluff longfic with vander and his happy family + Silco x reader you can find it here! ↠ Masterlist

Jayce:

-This man is planning to put a ring on your finger as soon as possible, okay? -Between the academy, public appearances, and both theoretical and practical studies, there isn’t a single moment when he’s really in the right mindset to bring up the topic -The worst part is that, deep down, he’s terrified of putting pressure on you -That’s why, the first time he hears you refer to him as “my husband” during a gala with noble families, he almost chokes -He has to gather all his strength not to grab the interlocutor by the shoulders and ask if they also heard you say that word -He’ll try to keep his composure, maybe responding to your remark with, “Yes, exactly. Her husband really did say/do/design that.”

Viktor:

-It’s not a thought he’s ever really entertained; it never crossed his mind -Part of it is that science is his priority, and part of it is that marriage doesn’t seem like something meant for people like him, -The first time you call him “your husband”, that thought suddenly becomes real in his head, and he can’t help but lean against a wall and wait for the other person to leave -“So, I’m your husband now, huh? Mmm… I don’t mind, a bit pretentious, though…” he jokes, making you roll your eyes -Now, more than ever, he has no idea what to do. He’ll give you a bronze ring from a machine he’s building -“Until I can get one worthy of you.”

Ekko:

-Yes -That’s it -The end -Okay, seriously. The idea of being certain that something will last forever is probably his greatest wish -The first time you call him your husband, he doesn’t see it coming -“Wait, you’re married?” -“I was talking about you, Ekko.” -The moment you say it, he points to his chest, you see his lip tremble slightly, and his eyes grow shinier -He won’t stop talking about it for a week, and at least once a day, he’ll ask if you still want to marry him, if you’re sure, if you love him -No rings before S2; the promise is made by drawing something for each other on your masks and clothes -After S2, he still can’t afford a ring, but now that life is more stable, he can start thinking about a more traditional gift, like a piece of jewelry

Vander:

-This man is ravenous for any family role you might offer him—fiancé, father, husband. Anything goes -The first time you call him “husband”, he plays it cool but will seize the first opportunity to return the favor by telling a customer you’re married -As soon as he can, he’ll squeeze your hand, even under the counter -The idea of being married and having a complete family is everything he’s ever wanted -He won’t stop calling you “my beautiful wife/husband” from that moment on.

-You said it first; you can’t take it back. Now you have to get married

Silco (old man):

-This man’s only sin is loving too much, but I’ll save that reflection for another post -Having no ties other than his illegitimate daughter doesn’t make him someone who’s particularly keen on formalities -The first time you call him “your husband” is in front of Sevika, and he slowly turns to look at you, while she slowly turns to look at him -“Did I... miss something?” Sevika asks, but he doesn’t reply, still perplexed, before glancing at her and saying, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” -He’s relieved but doesn’t show it. He can’t afford to just yet -As soon as he confirms you were serious, your name will be flamboyantly forgotten—he’ll constantly refer to you as “my wife/husband”

Silco (young):

-The man who survives on love -The first time you call him your husband is in front of Vander, and while Vander bursts out laughing, Silco chokes on his drink -“Are you serious?” He’s so happy that his pale iris are completely swallowed by his dilated pupils -He grabs a pen and draws a ring around your finger -To his credit, he works in a mine, so it’s hard to do better than that, but it becomes the goal that keeps him going -Completely focused on family, the future, and anything that sees the two of you together and happy

Steb:

-The first time you call him your husband is at a dinner among enforcer families, and being mute doesn’t stop him from stealing the spotlight -He whips around, blinking slowly with only his third eyelid in a gesture of confusion -When he’s 100% sure he understood what you said, his eyes widen, the small membranes under his eyes flutter madly, and even the barely visible gills near his jaw gasp for a moment -Someone says, “I didn’t know you were married,” and he immediately nods enthusiastically, not giving you time to take it back -Within 48 hours, he’ll have the ring ready

Jinx:

-The first time you call her “your wife”, she freezes -“What did you just call me?” -She’s used to being a little sister, a big sister, a daughter—she’d never thought she could be a wife. Family ties aren’t chosen, but the idea that someone would want her in their life so much they’d marry her feels incredible -“You want to marry me? Really? Why?” -She bursts into tears, and it’ll take at least 24 hours of cuddling in bed to calm her down -After that, she’ll run to her father to announce that she’s now a married woman

Vi:

-She might not be Silco and/or Vander’s blood daughter, but she’s inherited their deep desire for family -From her family’s tragic fate to Vander’s, she’s always seen family as the ultimate aspiration -When you call her “your wife” for the first time, she doesn’t notice right away, but a full minute later, she whirls around to look at you, as if to ask for confirmation -“Say it again.” -“...You need to buy bread?” -“No, all of it.” -“My wife needs to go buy bread.” -“Again.”

-"My... wife?"

-"Again"

Caitlyn:

-Has she thought about it? Yes -Was she planning to act on it? Not exactly -Caitlyn struggles with emotions and feelings, which is why she hesitates and takes her time -But when you first call her “your wife”, her brain completely shuts off—she just stares at you, unable to hear a single word being said -If you or someone else asks her a question, she’ll snap out of it and respond, -“My wife/husband said everything.” Even if it makes no sense as an answer, making you laugh and leaving the other person baffled

Mel:

-Not a single flicker of surprise—the first time you call her “your wife”, she remains completely composed -“So, I’m your wife?” she asks as soon as you’re in private, approaching you like a feline. You can almost hear the purr in her voice -She’s amused but also intrigued by whatever game you’re playing -The idea of marriage is complicated for her—on one hand, it feels like it would limit her freedom to act, while on the other, unresolved family issues seem to devour her at the mere thought of starting a new cycle -She’ll tell you to go ahead, to get married, but she’ll also ask for time -In the meantime, though, she’ll start using the term “husband/wife” with you—she likes the way it rolls off her tongue

Sevika:

-Between the work she does, the environment she lives in, and all the interesting circumstances of her life, marriage has never been on her radar -Not to mention that in Zaun, it’s not exactly a common practice—people just move in together and build families when they can, without much fuss over formalities or bureaucracy -The first time it happens, she’s playing cards with the other goons, and you casually ask if “your wife is winning” -Her first reaction isn’t even hers—it’s the others’. Dustin, the blond goon with the lazy eye, almost starts crying, embarrassing her -Don’t worry, she’ll make you pay for it at home -She won’t ask to formalize anything, but in true Zaunite fashion, she’ll consider you married, plain and simple

[gay-dorito-dust]

How’d they react to you calling them bro or dude whilst in a pre-established relationship…(platonic/romantic)

Dick: he’s insulted.

Gutted.

He will try to give you the silent treatment for such a shameful thing but ultimately fails as he ends up being the one pawing at you for attention.

‘Do you still like me? Or did you just run out of cute nicknames to call me?’ He’d say one night as your both cuddling in bed together. ‘If it’s the later then I can help you find something, just please spare me and don’t call me dude or bro anymore.’

He’d rather you call him Richard-wait, no he hates that even more because to him you’re not meant to use his fully name, only cutesy nicknames that’d make a grown man sick to his stomach. Nothing else would suffice other than Dickie bird, handsome, babe, hunk, honeybun or anything that wasn’t his name.

He’s go mad or would act delusional and say that everything was fine when everyone could tell that it wasn’t. People who know him have personally came to you and begged you to stop calling him dude/bro because he kept talking their ears off about how his beloved partner is torturing him, which ends up torturing them even more upon hearing about his relationship issues.

Dick would even consult Hayley on what he did wrong, only for Hayley to look at him with those big, big eyes of hers. This was not her level of expertise unfortunately. (Head empty, no thoughts. She can’t do her abc’s guys it’s a real tragedy.)

Jason: ‘I just had my tongue down your throat just now and you had to go and ruin the mood by calling me bro. What the fuck.’ - Jason at some point.

It’s a whole mood killer for him to be honest.

He’s calling you things like chipmunk or sweetheart but here you were calling him dude and bro. He knows for a fact that he’s well and truly out of the friend zone because the shit you’ve done together isn’t platonic in any sort of way.

Thinks Roy had set you up to call him dude or bro behind his back. (He hasn’t)

Jason is petty and will get his own back by referring you as ‘just a really good friend’, ‘buddy o’ mine’ or even worse than both of those; ‘chum.’ 💀

When you go low, Jason was more then willing to go to the depths of fucking hell to the point it had become a game to see who’d call out just how stupid this all was, and at the both of you for ever thinking that this was an excellent idea in the first place.

You’ll probs get punished…I’m just going to leave it there and let your minds guess what that ‘punishment’ was exactly.

Damian:

As much as Damian hates it when you call him Dami, he hates it when you call him dude or bro even more, if that’s even possible.

Damian hates it when you call him dude or bro. He’s not your dude or bro, he’s your partner and he expects no less then darling, my heart or my beloved.

So you calling him dude or bro is more than enough reason for him to give you the silent treatment.

‘Until you learn that I am your partner, I won’t want to be anywhere near you if you’re going to keep calling me your bro or dude. It is a disservice to who I actually am to you.’ He says with a huff and beckons Titus to follow, only for the Great Dane to be left confused as to why his human parents were at a disagreement over something silly.

Also Titus, Ace, Jerry, Alfred the cat, Goliath and BatCow are children of divorce because I said so.

So it’s bests that you apologise while you still can because Damian can hold a grudge unlike any other. Even if you didn’t, you’d still crack first before Damian and quickly put an end to calling him dude/bro.

He just thinks being called a dude/bro when in a pre-established relationship is an insult.

He can take a joke but not when it’s aimed at his relationship. He’s well and truly devoted to his relationship -if we’re to completely ignore the whole being Robin thing- that it might as well be an insult towards him too at this point.

[erinwantstowrite]

Halloween AU!!!

hey so. i put SOOOOO much effort into this au and for what? at least it ended up looking cool? anyways Halloween is my favorite holiday and i just HAD to make something for them!

i had a LOT of ideas for what everyone would be, but i really wanted to stick to a certain theme cause it's based around Halloween. i knew i had to have a vampire, werewolf, and a witch. cause like... obviously. iconic Halloween stuff!! but i took some liberties with everyone else and i think they turned out pretty cool!!

Jason was originally a fox shifter (which i still love and might draw art for some day) but i went with a bear in the end. is that because i thought about tiny bear cub Jaybin and wanted to cry? yeah. yeah it is. i KNEW Steph was going to be my werewolf though i started doubting myself when i went to draw her. turned out to be my favorite drawing on here which makes sense cause she is my light my love my daughter my will to live and all that jazz

Tim was actually gonna be a harpy but thank god i didn't go for that in the end. Duke was the one that was a bitch and a half trying to figure out BUT!! comments on the post asking what y'all thought led me towards Psychic so THANK YOUUUU everybody that commented!! (specifically those who thought of ghost!! Duke and Tim ended up being a perfect duo in this au)

Babs was pretty easy to figure out what I wanted for her. I read somewhere that they are seen as protectors of forests/ are considered spiritual authority figures and also.... she looks cool as fuck. Did not expect how easy it was to find a ref for a deer in a wheelchair though? I can never find the right hand or face angle reference but that was super easy???

For Bruce there was literally no question he HAD to be human. it's literally so funny that everyone who knows Batman thinks he's a spooky vampire but he's human. his first son, however?????? THAT'S the vampire. I knew Dick had to be a vampire too. A little nod towards that one comic run but in my au nothing bad happens ever 🥰 Damian also being a bat shifter is very on purpose because how funny is it that he's a bat man. Literally not a single person in the League thinks that Bruce is telling the truth about being human. Bruce you are NOT beating the secretly a vampire allegations.

adding in Jay's hilarious joke it's so fucking funny:

Alfred is actually a demon. I CAN NOT remember who made this post so if someone can help me find it, it would be appreciated!! because this was inspired by them!!! but somewhere i saw someone talk about Alfred being a demon that Thomas and Martha made a deal with (i think it was for an au idea?) and I just HAD to put it here. Alfred looks so human and everyone expects it, but he's definitely not. I put the ??? because it's so fucking funny. see if you can spot the 1 hint i put on his drawing that something is amiss!!

Peter is from an alternate dimension still, but it is not a world of creatures like him, it's just the same as LoF canon except Peter grew some extra limbs and eyes. He finds that it's actually pretty easy to fit in with the Waynes. Hard to feel like a freak when a guy can turn into a fucking bear, or your dad is a vampire, and the teenagers in the family are trying to summon ghosts or make potions.

additional doodles for this au:

i am still debating whether i am going to draw something for this au or write a oneshot, but i DO want to do something with these for Halloween

[amazinglyashy]

Too heavy for me? Never

LADS men reaction to you only somewhat joking about being too heavy for them

Sylus -

He'll raise an eyebrow at you, staring down at you as you realize the joke fell flat. You try to back peddle, not wanting to cause any confrontation that never helps you feel better about your body anyway, but he simply holds up a hand to stop you with a shake of his head.

"I don't want to hear it, sweetie. I already know the nonsense you're going to say. How about you just come with me right now to the gym instead?"

You don't know how to tell him that saying that truly shattered your heart into a million pieces, so you just follow him in silence instead. You didn't think he would insult you so casually, and you were now trying to brace yourself for the inadequate feelings and self-loathing you were about to experience by having to train at the gym with him.

But... he didn't ask you to do a workout. He didn't tell you to get on a piece of equipment or to lie down on a mat for a physical exercise.

He told you to sit on a small bench against the wall while he went to the free weights close by.

Wordlessly, he loads weights- two- no, three times your weight onto the bar, before moving to lift it. Once. Twice. Again, and again and again-

His eyes flicker over to you at some point, and instead of making any remark or reference to the emotions clear across your face, he flashes you a slight smirk, just like he always does.

"Have I made myself clear, sweetie?"

Zayne -

Zayne will definitely think you're just pretending to be stupid at first.

He will look down at you with his brows furrowed and a small smile creeping on his lips, thinking it's all a joke.

"I lift myself during my workouts fairly easily, and I am capable of lifting a lot more. Quite funny, though I wouldn't make this form of humor a habit. It isn't particularly good for your mental health."

Then he realizes you're actually being serious in what you're saying.

He's upset, to put it lightly, but hes trying not to let it show. Favoring a small frown across his usually firm expression as he studies your face. Your heart will jolt just a little bit when you process just how sad his eyes look though... obviously he's hurt that you would even think something like that about yourself, much less come to believe it as true.

"Allowing a part of your brain to lie to you is not healthy if you don't push back with the truth. And the truth here, is that you are nowhere near too heavy for me to lift or carrying, even for prolonged periods of time. To demonstrate-"

And like it's nothing, he's picking you up and carrying you. His destination is not important, and the protests spewing from your lips fall on deaf ears as you try to gentle squirm out of his grasp. He'll continue to explain why your viewpoint is flawed, methodically and with logic, and in a way that you find yourself unable to argue back.

He doesn't want you to.

He knows you're wrong, and he will stop at nothing to prove it.

Xavier -

He's more surprised at the statement than anything. At first, he thinks you're making a jab at his strength, and wonders if he slipped up in front of one too many Wanderers and now needs to prove himself just to get you to stop teasing him for being 'weak'.

Once he (quickly) realizes that you're talking about yourself, jabbing at your own body and state, rather than at him, it's like a spark igniting in him.

"What? What would ever make you think that? No- that's not right. That's not right at all."

He's immediately going to try and grab you to lift you up, he doesn't care where you both are or what you're doing. Even if you've just woken up in bed and are still relaxing, he's trying to pick you up right then and there.

He stumbles trying to lift you, falling backward onto the pile of blankets and plushies that has taken over his bed. He feels awful, worried that you'll take his misstep as him falling over from your weight, immediately apologizing and trying to sit up and pick you up again before falling forward from the plush surface he's trying to rise on giving out too much beneath him.

You're both a giggling mess by then, and it's obvious to you that he's going to keep trying to prove it to you, just... a bit clumsily so. Several more attempts will be made as the evening goes on, and pretty soon he's showing you just how easily it is for him to lift you up- especially if he keeps doing it over and over and over again.

And he will continue to do it over and over and over again, even after today. As many times as it takes.

Rafayel -

You definitely made a mistake saying anything self-depreciating around him. Especially with how much he likes to prove you wrong in playful situations, this is something similar, but a lot more serious to him.

He'll make fun of you for anything, as long as you know he's just being lighthearted even if he's grumpy or upset when he fires a quip off at you.

But the second you agree with him, or say something bad about yourself- whether jokingly or dead serious- the gloves are off. He won't accept that from you, and he's already on it to figure out how to turn the opinion you've formed of yourself on it's head and into a more positive outlook.

Lifts you up bridal carry while spinning- quite literally sweeping you off your feet while he whisks you away. You would think you were a princess with how he spins around his studio with you in his arms, with no regard to the paintings or projects around him as he dances with you in his arms. And no matter how hard you protest, he doesn't stop until he feels for himself that he's done enough, giggling the entire time.

"Are you really going to doubt a sea god's strength? Geez, I didn't realize you were such a rude human."

He'll hold you up enough to press his forehead against yours, nuzzling against you with a smile, the slightest sadness playing across his expression.

"Man, I must be pretty lousy that you would ever think something like that about yourself. That must mean I don't think to pick you up enough like you deserve. Don't worry, I'll make it up to you by whisking you away every chance I see you from now on."

[notjustjavierpena]

Sundays

Main Masterpost | Support a disabled creator

A/N: Season 2 of The Last of Us ruined my life, so here is my attempt at fixing my eternal wounds. Lord knows that everyone deserves better. I spent four weeks trying to perfect this. It might be the best thing I’ve ever done. Please be kind and patient with me ❤️

Summary: Joel’s Sundays are for early morning patrol and making babies with you.

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader/you (no y/n)

Tags: Domestic fluff, soft but haunted Joel, banter, teasing, Star Wars reference, kissing, praise kink, dirty talk, pussy eating, fingering, breeding kink, one use of daddy, emotional and filthy sex, creampie, aftercare, cuddling 

Word count: 5.7k

Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/65911807

Sundays

On Sundays, Joel does the morning patrols while the rest of the town sleeps. When someone asks why he has volunteered to do them, he lies and grumbles something about nobody else wanting to get out of bed during the weekend so he has to. Yet he always wakes up at the crack of dawn without complaint, showers in the miracle of hot water, fixes himself a cup of coffee, and reads his book - they have recently emptied a library on an extensive supply run and they found The Shining on dry shelves - with his glasses perched on his nose. He likes it; the quiet time for himself while feeling your presence in the house as you sleep under warm blankets upstairs. His morning routine always ends with taking off his glasses to put them on their designated spot on his nightstand and kissing your beautiful hair, watching your body curl up contentedly underneath the covers or if he is really lucky, you turning onto your back and sleepily muttering a demand for a proper kiss. 

He goes back down, ties his well-worn leather boots on a dining chair, holsters his handgun, throws his rifle over his shoulder, and then leaves with a quiet click of the door. 

The Spring air bites slightly in the morning but he doesn’t mind, appreciates the way it wakes him up a bit more and sharpens his focus. He misses you the second he steps out the door, thinks about your warm and soft skin while he checks the front of Ellie’s house, and then walks towards the stables, the gravel crunching underneath his boots. He listens for anything out of the ordinary - can’t be too careful - and even checks the fences surrounding the horses, the weak spots he keeps meaning to patch up himself because he doesn’t trust anyone else to do it right.

Patrol is as usual. He doesn’t expect any danger and thankfully doesn’t find any either, but he is a man of habits and old habits die hard. His free hand rests near the strap of his rifle in case of anything out of the ordinary, but the only time he needs to be on his guard is when Callus, his horse, gets frightened by a rabbit in the bushes along the trail. He calms the animal with a broad, soothing hand and kind words. He thinks about Sarah, about how she would have loved the nature here, and rarely anymore about how her blood felt on his skin.

He is gone for a few hours, three maybe but no more than four. He does all of his usual inner checklists and rides past each checkpoint, all the while thinking about your hair still messy from sleep, your bare foot sticking out from under the blanket.

On his way back, his thoughts continue circling around you. It’s almost dangerous how much he lets his mind drift; how easy it is to get lost in wondering what you’re up to on his way home. He pictures you in the sun coming in through the windows of the house he built for you with hands that have killed but now get to cradle your face too. He loves you most bathed in morning light that makes your skin glow. With a half-laugh, you said you’d be doing housework today, dragging your fingers through his hair last night whilst tangled up in his body. 

He wonders if you’re humming to yourself while mopping the floors or fighting extra stubborn dust bunnies underneath the couch. What are you wearing? What are you thinking about? Is it him? Are your souls really so entwined that your thoughts are full of him whenever his are so full of you? Joel doesn’t even know if he believes in that sort of thing - hearts beating in sync like that - but you don’t give him a choice sometimes, a feeling that not even Ellie has ever teased out of him.

When he arrives home, he smiles with his eyes closed at the twinkling sound of the wind chimes hanging on the porch ceiling. There is dust on his boots and his bad knee has started to ache from the slow change in temperature over the last few hours but he feels content. He removes the rifle from his shoulder to leave it by the door and then toes the boots off carefully. 

He inhales the smell of home deeply in through his nose before holding his breath to listen for any sound of you. His brown jacket comes off right after he has noticed the quiet movements upstairs that make the house creak just a little. However, it’s not the noisy floorboards but your soft curse that makes him climb the staircase.

A younger version of him - a version that was newer to you - would have first thought that you were up to something sinful and private but Joel now knows that the near-silent swear is one of quiet frustration. You don’t hear him at first, too busy muttering to yourself about the fitted sheet that keeps slipping from your fingers as you try to tug it down over the corner of your shared bed. 

“Shit,” you curse again quietly, bent across the bed in a kneeling position with one knee on the mattress and the other stretched out behind you. 

He knows he should announce his presence like the gentleman he is but he is too busy trying to catch his hitching breath from the sight of your gorgeous body. The swell of your hips and the dip of your back have his old ticker beating in his chest like a kick drum but it is, more specifically, the choice of your underwear that has him feeling downright lightheaded. Hugging your hips are a pair of lace panties and they’re see-through and barely there but most importantly cute. You probably picked them up from the trading center without much ceremony, drawn by their aesthetic rather than their practicality, and then forgot they existed until laundry day arrived. He can understand why; they are so impractical that they almost piss him off but it doesn’t outweigh the near-laughable way he is already hardening in his jeans.

“Hey baby,” he finally says from the doorway, his hands shaking slightly with how hard it is to not just walk up and grab at your hips as a greeting. 

“Joel,” you jump a little in your spot and look at him over your shoulder, the sheet still hanging between your fingers in a secure grip, “You scared the shit outta me!”

“What are you wearing?” He asks simply instead of apologizing, trying to act nonchalant as he walks to the side of the bed but you pick up on the strain in his voice. 

You glance down at yourself with a sigh but it just makes your ass jiggle, “Oh, these? They’re my last clean pair right now since I’m doing an epic pile of laundry today. Sun’s coming out. Perfect day for hanging it outside.” 

“They’re–” he replies, gaze fixed on your ass. His voice continues in the same strained tone but he doesn’t know how to finish his sentence. 

“They’re awful,” you help him and start struggling with the corner of the sheet again, “Feels like my ass is being flossed by lace.”

Joel snorts at that, “Should take ‘em off then.”

“You’d like that wouldn’t you?” You snort yourself, finally managing to pull the sheet over the edge. You flatten it with your palm, caressing it almost as if you’re apologizing for the roughness you’ve caused it and so it looks like it hasn’t been a battle to secure. Then you flop onto your back, stretching your arms out behind you to hold yourself up. The grin on your face is mischievous and sexy yet subtle, the position you’ve put your body in pushing your chest out so he can see your breasts through the thin fabric of your t-shirt. He thought he wanted you badly during his patrol but looking at you now, he thinks he might lose it if he doesn’t touch you soon. 

“You’ve got me. Take them off,” he murmurs with a smirk but when you playfully don’t follow orders, he starts leaning down over you slowly with his sore knee dipping into the mattress. You try to crawl back, squealing but he has taken on bigger things than you.

“Joel,“ you stop him by planting your bare foot on his chest but the way your leg bends at the knee just exposes that soft, intimate skin between your legs. He wants to dive into you but he’ll humor you for a moment.

He grabs your ankle to make you laugh but his mind betrays him by reminding him of how fragile his existence here with you is. Jackson remaining completely untouched by reality is a fantasy. He doesn’t tell you, never would tell you how easily it could all go wrong again, because you deserve the fantasy more than he does.

“Joel,” you repeat his name and he comes back to you if only briefly, watching your loving grin with a deep ache in his chest. He hasn’t felt this kind of ache since Sarah’s mother, a tell-tale sign that you are the real thing for him, that he built this house so you can fill it up with love and life. 

Life. It seems almost bordering on insanity to be thinking about children at his age in a world so broken but your eyes sparkle in the town square where mothers carry their babies in wraps while trading cartons of strawberries. You deserve to nurture someone other than him because your soul has so much to give. 

“If you’re not going to do anything but overthink,” you hum teasingly when time has passed and Joel feels embarrassed for having been lost to his own inner world. His thumb presses into the curve of your Achilles heel, tugging your body closer to himself by wrapping your leg around his waist instead.

“You’re the only person who talks to me like that,” he chuckles softly while his cheeks are slightly crimson. 

“It’s good for you,” you shoot back him and it is the truth.

“Was just thinking ‘bout how you do so much that I don’t deserve,” he says with his eyes roaming over your face and chest for a place to kiss. He chooses the column of your throat, “Cooking, cleaning… Lovin’ a man like me.”

“It’s not about deserving,” you muse and sigh at his stubble on your skin, “Do you want me?”

What kind of question is that? He wants you so much that it sometimes feels like it would be easier to live in your veins, to replace his tired and aching bones with yours if it meant never being without you. He sounds psychotic, sounds like something that he read in the string of horror novels he has gathered by now because they feel oddly comforting when there’s something worse on the other side of the gates. 

“Forever,” he replies simply. He would rather die than not have you.

“Not too much to ask for if you ask me,” you reach to cup his face, thumbs stroking along his cheekbones until he closes his eyes at the feel, and then pull him to your lips. You kiss him gently for a moment but with how much Joel wants you, he quickly lets it drift into something else, something more. He kisses you with all that want in his body, needs it to stop prickling underneath his skin. 

“Have you had breakfast?” He murmurs against your mouth, checking in, the question heavy with care for you. 

“No,” you whisper back into another kiss, fingers threading through the hair at the back of his neck, “I was waiting for you.”

“What if, after this, I take you down to the market?” Joel starts descending his lips on your body. He mouths over the mound of your breast, nipping at your sensitive nipple as it strains against the fabric of your top in its arousal, “Could get you fresh strawberries. Or blueberries we could throw in pancakes.”

You let out a soft moan that’s mixed with a breathy laugh, “I’m ovulating.”

“What?” Joel’s voice has gone scratchy. He stills his touch, moving to look up at your face to see what emotion is playing on your features. He didn’t even know you were keeping track. At first, he doesn’t understand your point but you’re quick to let him in.

“There’ll be babies all over the town square,” you grin down at him, cheeks warm with playfulness as you glow, “Just saying.”

“Maybe one of ours one day?” Joel tests the waters.

“Yeah?” Your grin turns into one of unabashed glee.

“Yeah. I wouldn’t mind it if we made a baby,” he answers quietly and moves his palm up under your top to lay it flat against your belly, “We could try. I mean, we’ve been dancing around it for months now, haven’t we?”

“Then don’t pull out,” the way you say those words, like honey dripping from your tongue, makes Joel swear under his breath and his cock jump. He watches the dizzying sight of you shimmying out of the lace underwear before spreading your legs to give room for him. Looking between your legs is like he’s been offered something holy by the devil himself, your slit already glistening and ready for him.

“Wasn’t gonna,” he smooths his hand down your belly to grab the hem of your top again, easing it up your body. You lift your arms over your head to help him get it off, the movement of your body making your tits shake. He moves backward on the bed, kissing his way down your sternum while squeezing your right breast. You arch slightly into the touch, taking it with a soft release of your breath.

Joel revels in you, revels in the fact that you have allowed him something that he hasn’t thought about in decades because the world did not allow it. He wonders if he’ll be a good father again after all these years of never letting himself think of being something to someone so tiny and fragile, dependent. Ellie had already been a mouthy teenager when he got her, and while she had relied on him, she had had one hell of a survival instinct and hadn’t needed any cradling. A newborn will be different; they will need parts of his being that he hasn’t touched since Sarah was handed to him in the hospital. He doesn’t know if he can trust himself to cradle his newborn with hands that now only know how to pull a trigger. He doesn’t know if it is like riding a bike, that it will happen naturally the second he sees them, but he knows that he wants it. God, he wants it. 

“What are you doing?” You question when he is suddenly between your legs, his feet out over the edge of the bed, and it makes him stop dead. Maybe he should stop having these thoughts when he makes love to you. 

“What do you mean?” He asks as he is halfway down on the floor to get in position. He furrows his brows in confusion. 

“You do realize that this is not how babies are made, right?” You giggle in response, sweetly enough to make his cock twitch. Oh, that’s what you’re playing at.

“Ain’t it?” He smirks.

“No!” You snicker. 

“Then I guess I’m just doing this for fun,” he replies and swings your legs onto his shoulders. He yanks at your hips to pull you towards his mouth, “C’mere, you.”

You squeak with giggles and Joel’s heart dances to the sound. However, your laughter switches to a moan the second his mouth touches you and covers nearly the whole of you. He doesn’t need to think about it anymore, has learned what you like by now from the countless times he has eaten your pussy like it was his last meal on this godforsaken earth. 

“Shit,” you gasp towards the ceiling and cross your ankles on the broadness of his back. He swears that he can hear it in your voice how your eyes roll back when his tongue caresses you in soft strokes. You taste so good that he moans into you, lapping up every drop of sticky sweetness with his tongue. 

“I know, baby. I got you,” he pauses briefly to suck on two of his fingers to wet them, following it up by turning his hand toward the ceiling and then sinking the digits inside of you. He expertly presses them upward, curling them into the spot that immediately has your hips jolting. 

“There,” you tell him with a whine, twisting your hands in the freshly-made bed sheets with a curse that he doesn’t know if is directed at him or the stupid fitted sheets slipping from the corners again, “Joel— ah, don’t stop!”

You gasp as he rubs into that spot over and over again, pairing it with his mouth circling in on the place you need it the most. Your clit is hard and sensitive, perfect for wrapping his mouth around and sucking until his cheeks hollow. 

“Oh God… Oh God,” your pitch rises as he works you open on his hand. At some point, you lose yourself enough in it to start tightening your legs around his back and shoulders. It makes your pelvis lift off the mattress until your back is beautifully arched, makes your cunt press firmly into his mouth for any friction. He grabs your thigh with his free hand for leverage and groans softly into you, taking the reward of sinful pleasure shooting straight to his cock from the way you fuck yourself on his fingers and mouth. 

Outside, the heat can’t compete with the warmth coming off of your body. He can hear another gust of wind blowing through the wind chimes around the porch, mixing with the sound of the city waking up and coming to life. He could die right here, he thinks, between your beautiful thighs with skin that smells just faintly of your homemade lavender oil but right now mostly of sex. It wouldn’t be bad, hell, the whole town would say that he died doing what he loved. 

A hand tangles in his hair now. You have relented on the sheets in case you’ll rip them, and Joel takes each painful sting of his follicles with pride as you balance on the edge. He sinks his fingers deeper, works his mouth faster to get you to tip the scales and come so hard that the world fades away from the both of you. 

It happens a moment later. You hold your breath for just a few seconds, completely quiet as you concentrate while the anticipation within your body crackles like electricity he swears, he can feel. 

Then you cry out in relief, throwing your head back and squeezing your thighs around his head so the sound in his good ear blurs as well. He can feel your muscles clamp down on his fingers, near-arrogant pride swelling in his chest from how skilled he is in making you feel good. 

He keeps his mouth on you as long as you allow him, the tip of his tongue flicking over your sensitive and goddamn pretty clit until you protest with a whimper. When he draws back, he keeps fucking you through the aftershocks with his fingers and dares look up at you, heart beating out of his chest and his dick hard enough that it is aching. His fingers are wet with your come, making your cunt squelch in the otherwise quiet room. 

“Attagirl,” he breaks the silence with a praise in his easy southern drawl, letting his fingers slip out finally, “You liked that, huh?”

You hum approvingly in your afterglow and he can’t get close to you fast enough. He crawls up from the floor, grunting at the way his knees remind him of his age, and moves up on the bed. He slots between your legs again like he was made to fit there, kneeling between your thighs. You look soft and dazed, chest still heaving from your high. 

“I love you. Every damn inch of you,” he murmurs softly. He looks at your face, how you smile with your eyes closed and your nose is slightly scrunched up as the sun dances over your features through the window. You’re glowing. Simple as that, no other word for it, like you will when carrying his kid, and he should tell you that you’re the only peace he has ever found. He should say it to you but he cowers each time. It feels more weighted than telling you that he loves you. 

“I know,” you whisper back eventually, eyes blinking open and your hands reaching for his belt. The metal clinks as you undo the buckle, a smug little grin on your face. 

“Alright, Han Solo,” he rolls his eyes for show and then moves over you, the devil in his eyes. He wipes his slick chin and lips on your face, making you laugh in the way that is enhanced by dopamine. He bumps his nose into yours, “Think you’re funny, huh?”

“Little bit,” you smile and get the fly open. You reach inside and wrap your fist around him, the playful air in the room settling immediately when you stroke him lazily, “But I’m just trying to get you to take your clothes off.”

“Fuck, baby,” he groans while you run your thumb over the slit of his dick, “You’re killing me. Gimme a sec of this.”

You give in and let him have this for a moment, stroking him with practiced flicks of your wrist until his hips start to rut so he can fuck your hand. He moans as he stares down between you, the muscles of his neck and shoulders wound so tight from trying not to come that it is a miracle his old bones haven’t snapped in half.

When you feel him near the edge, you squeeze around the base to halt his orgasm. You’ve started to breathe hard alongside him, clearly worked up by the sounds he is making for you. 

“Fuck me,” you beg him, your voice stutters as you frantically try using your free hand to yank his jeans down over his hips, “Please, Joel, I need you inside me.”

He thinks about how worked up you must be between your legs after holding out for so long. Knowing how wet you get from touching him like this, you must be soaked for him and ready to be taken care of like you deserve. It means that Joel doesn’t need to be told twice, already tugging his jeans and underwear just far down enough for what matters. 

However, despite the rush of getting undressed, he still takes the time to reach for one of the newly-fluffed pillows resting against the bed’s headboard. 

“Up,” he says without further explanation but you know what he wants to do, would probably trust him with your life even if he just gave you a look. When you lift your pelvis in the air without question, he slides the pillow underneath you so your hips are tilted just right for him to reach deep. 

Your legs are spread, your cunt practically served on a platter for him with how it is raised slightly in the air, squeezing around nothing as if begging for him. He looks down at your face as he runs the head of his cock through your folds, coating the very tip in a mix of precome and your shiny slick. 

You aren’t watching him though, too busy chewing on your bottom lip with your eyes glued to how the head of his cock sinks into your wet heat. When he starts stretching you with his thick girth, your mouth falls open in a soft moan. 

He places a hand just above your mound, holds you there while he bottoms out with a growl. Then he rocks his hips once then twice, setting up a pace that gives the both of you time to indulge in each other. You are snug around his dick as he fucks you, slick heat that makes his skin tingle and his breath stutter. The remnants of a southern gentleman in him know that he shouldn’t compare, but no other woman has ever made him unravel so much during sex, has ever made him feel so powerful and powerless in bed. 

“Tell me who this pussy belongs to,” he demands to regain some form of control, staring down at your face contorted with pleasure. 

“You,” you gasp feebly, “It’s yours.”

When he fucks you like this, you are his. He doesn’t need to second guess this fact, knows it just from the way your bodies are connected like they know it too. 

He reaches for your thighs, his knuckles going white as he lifts them onto his hips. You lock around him by instinct and force him forward, so he has to brace himself with a hand beside your head. The angle makes him go deeper, the thick head of his cock kissing at your cervix and your greedy cunt flutters like it wants to do the impossible and pull him further in. 

“Look at me,” he says in a voice that reveals just how good you feel to him, watches the way your tits bounce with each thrust, “Say it like you mean it.”

You stare up into his eyes, your brows furrowed as the tip of his cock drags along the front of your walls. He is in there deep, focused on coming just where it matters. Meanwhile, you have to concentrate on forming words, needing to start over several times with how close you are to babbling.

“It’s– ah, fuck. It’s your pussy, Joel. I’m yours,” you cry for him, your pitch close to, but not quite, the one of a wounded animal. The difference is the lack of hesitation; you are both so sure of each other that it makes him ache all over and ignore the sweaty strain on his old back. 

Your hands scramble to touch him but you make a noise of complaint when his chest is covered by his shirt, the barrier a nuisance when you want all of him. He shed the flannel earlier along with his jacket, but right now, it is the soft fabric of his t-shirt that you’re pulling at to get to his skin. 

He dips down to let you pull it over his head, it slipping down his arm unceremoniously until he can grab it with his fist and toss it over his back. Your trembling hands find his skin immediately and it makes you sigh with relief. Your nails drag through the hairs on his chest, leaving red streaks in their wake until you grab the flesh of his sides. 

He sees how your eyes roam over his torso, where scars tell stories of a life much more complicated than this. You have loved each one of them so many times that he doesn’t feel insecure about them anymore, have traced them with your fingers and kissed them enough to get him to believe that he is more than the events that brought them. 

“You’re so beautiful,” you say softly and settle a hand at the back of his neck, drawing him into your arms. He braces himself on his forearms, kisses you like he isn’t inside of you, and has missed you for a weeklong patrol, still taken aback when you say things like that. 

“Sweet girl,” he whispers against your lips and you whimper as his cock pulses inside of your body. You look at him with fiery love and lust, the stare so intense he knows that this will be over soon because he can’t hold back anymore. 

His next thrusts are slower but rougher, harder and insistent in touching the parts inside you that make you barrel towards the edge. He can feel the difference between all the other times he’s been buried in your cunt to the hilt and this time. While the air is still thick with labored breaths and whispered cries for a higher power he doesn’t know if he believes, this is not just sex; this is about taking the very best parts of you and mixing them with the leftover parts of him that he has found aren’t fatally broken because of you. 

The sound of his name pulls him back to you. His pelvis has aligned with yours with each rock of his hips, the spot just above the base of his cock grinding into your twitching clit. 

“I’m gonna— fuck, I’m gonna come,“ you choke on air, “Please, Joel. Don’t stop, baby.”

“I know, honey,” he moans at the way you flutter around his length, voice cracking at how you feel better than a Texan summer. You’re so wet it sounds filthy when he fucks you, barely pulling out anymore and letting you soak his dick while he switches to simply grinding. For a moment, he is even scared that it’ll set him off before you’ve had your second fill, “Jesus, yeah, I can feel it.” 

Your orgasm hits like a runaway train. The hand resting on the back of his neck slides down to squeeze his shoulder, fingers denting his skin as you seek something to cling onto in your state of ecstasy. You come so hard that air is knocked out of him from how tightly your cunt grips him, his whole body shuddering like he’s the one losing it.

He presses a lingering kiss to your gorgeous neck while your head is thrown back, feeling the rapid beats of your heart under his lips. Your free hand cradles him like you’re meant to be a mother already, making it irresistible for him not to inhale your scent of lavender from the spot where your neck meets your shoulder.  

“You feel too good, baby, ’m not gonna last,” he grits out against your sweat-slicked skin, his cock throbbing in time with his heartbeat. 

“Don’t want you to last, want you to put a baby in me. Gimme a baby, Joel,” you beg him and bury your nose in his temple. You squeeze him tighter in your arms, whining from oversensitivity as his thrusts start to intensify toward the end, “Wanna make you a daddy, baby, please, I’m ready.”

Daddy. The word coming from your mouth makes Joel snap. He pushes his hips against yours and comes with a groan, the head of his cock flush against the very back of your cunt. In his life, he has witnessed wildfires and his climax spreads through his lower belly just as fast. His breath is stuck in his lungs as he fills you to the brim, his tongue wanting to say filth but only your name comes out. It’s good enough to make a grown man tremble without remorse in the embrace of his woman. 

After a beat, his body sags from exhaustion. When you let go of his shoulder to run your hand over your hair, your nails have created little crescent marks on his body. He grunts as he rolls off of you in fear of crushing you underneath his weight. You whimper at the loss, a few heavy drops of his seed landing on the pillow still beneath your hips. 

“C’mere,” he murmurs as a haze settles over the both of you, the sweat on his skin turning slightly chilly. He holds his arm out to invite you into the space that always holds you perfectly and you oblige without a word. He’d lay here forever with you if he had to, would embrace being trapped here with you until they had to send out a search party. 

He is still breathing hard when you lay your head on his chest, draping your arm across his body whose stamina isn’t what it used to be. You don’t comment on it though, simply hold him while the sheets get dirty again from the mess between your thighs. While the world fades away around you, Joel decides that he’ll help you do the extra load of laundry. 

Without thinking, his fingers absentmindedly start tracing up and down your forearm in a soothing motion. You swing a tired leg over his body in response, attempting to get impossibly closer despite already practically melting together with him in the post-orgasmic heat you share. 

Outside, a young child shrieks with excited laughter and Joel nearly tears up from how new the sound seems even though it is a daily occurrence in the little town. He must know if you feel the same. 

“What’s on your mind?” He asks and breaks the quiet, still caressing your arm gently. 

“Just thinking,” you reply and splay your hand on his chest, brushing your thumb over his nipple without thinking. You kiss him where you can reach. 

“About?” He pushes, looking down at the top of your head as if he can read your emotions like that. You probably could with him. 

You crane your neck to stare at him with a little tired smile, “Babies. You. How much I love you. I love you.”

“I know,” he answers smugly, arching an eyebrow with a smile. He thinks another confession of his devotion might set his chest alight and right now, you don’t deserve to have his guilt winning.

“You asshole,” you dissolve into a burst of laughter while his smile turns wolfish, your body curling in on itself on top of his chest. He loves your laugh, the way you nearly snort and feel embarrassed by it. It makes him settle a hand on the base of your skull and drag you into the sort of kiss from a person who’s learning to trust joy again.

.

.

If you would like to follow my writing then go follow @notjustjavierpena-fics and turn on notifications 💖❤️

[pacofprunes]

wishful thinking

thanos/su-bong x pregnant! reader (fluff, comfort)

warnings — thanos and reader have matching tattoos, crying, mentions of sex, cursing, mentions of pissing on a door, pregnant reader, switching of referring to thanos and subong so hope you don’t get too confused, use of bitch (not towards reader), lowercase, typical squid game shit so mentions of blood and death,

you joined these games because although you thought it was too good to be true, it was all you could do. your shitty ex su-bong making you invest all your money into some dumbass crypto scam and blowing all of your guys money on drugs, childish bets, and gambling. after he blew both your guys money out, you left him, blocked him on everything, ignored your doorbell when he’d attempt to see you in person, everything. but two months after you broke up, it all came crashing down. you found out you were pregnant. and he was the only one you let see that part of you, it was his. but you were sure he moved on and even if he hadn’t, you couldn’t take him back. if he was this much of an incompetent person, he’d definitely be a terrible father. you didn’t want him in your life or your child’s.

besides some guy you assumed to have dementia or be on drugs, the game was going pretty smooth. until it wasn’t and it turns out the guy wasn’t crazy and people all around you were dying. blood splatting on your face left and right. you finally find a method and stay behind other people and everything was going smoothly again besides the intense stress and pressure. your heart and stomach feeling heavy. but the next time that doll turns around you hear a bunch of screams and you look to the right and see that su-bong was here too, and he had just pushed all of those people. he looked crazed. you just ignore it and try not to think about it, finally passing that finish line and being done with the first game, waiting for a full explanation.

you all move back into the main rooms that contained all your beds and people start screaming and yelling for answers. crying to go home, begging for their lives. you too wanted to go home, but you had so much on your mind. so much that you don’t notice your ex is nearing right behind you.

“señorita! oh my god baby is that you?”

he grabs your shoulder and turns you around to face him and you look up at him, frowning your eyebrows. he starts grabbing your face in his hands, touching all over you, not being able to comprehend it was you.

“oh god, it is you, babe, are you okay? where have you been i’ve missed you—”

“subong, stop. we’re not together, and we never will be ever again.”

you push his hands off your face and step back to put some distance between you two, still giving him a major glare. he reaches his arms out towards you again as if he was slowly trying to pick up a scared puppy.

“cmon— you can’t still be mad. baby, i’ll make it up to you, especially now.”

you look behind him and see a few people waiting on him, clearly eavesdropping. he turns around and looks at you again, a puppy dog look on his face but you shake it off.

“it’s not going to work subong. the debt im in now is insane because of you!”

he holds his right hand out before grabbing your right hand.

“baby please — we got these tattoos together,”

you look down at your hands and see the matching line placements decorating both of your hands. it was a stupid idea. you’d been dating for a little over a year, you shouldn’t had done it, you knew that. but you could barely pay for your bills, you definitely couldn’t pay to remove a tattoo. but deep in your heart you wished he was different, wished you could forgive him because deep down you still loved him. that tattoo was a sick reminder of that everyday. you realize you’d been staring at the two of your hands for a while before pulling away quickly. he looks at you with a smile and hope in his eyes. he places both of his hands on your shoulders again.

“see, we’re meant to be. it was a mistake, i know, i did it out of the goodness of my heart! for us, for you, you know that.”

you scoff at him.

“no. no i don’t know that. we’re not getting back together choi su-bong, that’s final.”

his hands go limp on your shoulders before you speak up, saying your next few choice of words slightly quieter as his fans or friends or whoever was still behind you two, stop eavesdropping.

“and just so you know, i’m pregnant. it’s yours. i’m keeping it. i don’t need you to help me. i’ll find a way to make money and i’ll raise my child.”

he stares at you stunned before you push away and move through the crowd. you hear him yell for you, yelling that cringy señorita pet name your way, but you ignore him, trying to hide in the crowd, listening to what the guards say as he drowns in the sea of people.

the guard mentions voting and how you guys were gonna vote whether to stay or leave. part of you wanted to stay still, but if you died, so did your baby. and you were scared out of your mind, nothing able to comfort you. so you knew you were going to choose to leave. you weren’t in insane debts but you still had a lot. the money they were offering after the first game was nowhere near close enough to pay it all off. you would have to play one more game, maybe even two to pay it off, but you couldn’t take any risks. they start calling from highest to lowest numbers and once they call ‘player 230’, your shitty ex makes his way down the line, skipping to smack that blue button, choosing to stay. it only made you wanna choose the other side even more. your turn comes and you choose to leave, sticking the red ‘x’ on your chest. you could see him staring at you through the corner of your eye, but you just chose to ignore it. creepy bastard.

after arguments and close physical alterations, the voting was over. you had lost, you’d be staying for another game. you wanted to go but at least you’d have an opportunity to make a little more money, you guess…

“excuse me, young lady, would you like to join us?”

you look over to a short older woman holding onto your arm, pointing over to a small group of people who were sitting on their beds. you give her a small smile and nod, letting her take you over there. she signals where you can sit and you move slowly while holding your stomach, letting out a deep breath once you finally get down all the way. you look around and there’s an older man, a younger girl, and another woman with some very strong features. the older woman speaks.

“i mean, i can’t believe they chose to stay! no offense hyun-ju, but come on!”

the older woman smacks her hand down on the bed and you give her a sympathetic and understanding look. she looks up at you before she gets a surprised look on her face and quickly flails herself around to get her composure.

“right! ma’am, this is my son yong-sik, this is young-mi, and this is hyun-ju.”

she pauses looking at you and sits up quickly again.

“oh, and you can call me mrs jang.”

she gives you a teethy smile. realizing she’s waiting for you to introduce yourself you let out an oh and tell her who you are and she grabs your hands into hers and rubs circles into them.

“oh that name is so pretty. a pretty name for such a pretty girl.”

her son yong-sik slaps her shoulder and then they start arguing. you just sit there happy to have the company before you look to your right and see subong on the other side staring at you. you quickly look away and look down at your legs, biting your lip.

“yo, who’s that girl? you were arguing with her earlier. she’s smoking.”

he keeps staring before snapping his head back at nam-gyu.

“you are right, she is smoking hot.”

he pauses.

“well you see nam-su—”

“nam-gyu…”

“right right, nam-gyu, anyways, that’s my girl over there, okay? she just playin’ hard to get right now is all’,”

nam-gyu raises his eyebrows, getting an idea.

“soo, you gonna let me have a turn with that, right?”

thanos slaps his arm.

“nah bro, i normally share but that, ive had dibs on her for at least two years.”

he slaps nam-gyus arm again and then grabs it, causing nam-gyu to let out an ‘ow bro’,

“don’t worry bro! i’m sure we can find ya a bitch in here though! keep your mind busy and dick wet and we’re sure to win this whole thing.”

he slaps his arm one last time before nam-gyu slaps him back, thanos just laughing before slowly going back to watching you. trying to figure out how he should go about this. deciding that he’d just wait until everyone was asleep to talk to you again.

night time comes around and you had to piss. this fucking sucked. you had none of your pain killers, and you were about to crawl into a ball and start ripping your skin off from the pain you were in. but right now just focus on pissing. just focus on pissing you thought. you get up slowly, clutching your stomach before walking up to the door to the bathroom, knocking on it, waiting for someone to answer. finally the window slides open and you’re met with a triangle looking at you, or at least you think he, it? is looking at you.

“uhm, excuse me, i need to use the washroom.”

“players may not leave this room past your given curfew.”

the window to the door shuts. you take a deep breath, not willing to cause a scene and just about walk away before a guy walks up behind you and starts making a scene for you. that guy being su-bong.

“hey, me and my girl are tryna fuck, if you want we can do it right in the middle of this fucking room!”

it doesn’t work and the door doesn’t open.

“im not a girl! i have a penis and i know how to fucking aim. the next time you open this door it’s gonna be fucking yellow instead of pink i promise you that! i gotta heavy ass piss stream i been holdin’ and i can let out all over this door!”

you slap him, asking him what he was doing and that he was being crazy. but if you were being honest you were trying to stiffle a laugh. he always was funny, and in your relationship he always knew how to make you laugh. you’re pulled out of your thoughts when somehow what he said actually worked and they opened the door for you both. you make your way to the bathrooms and it’s silent the whole time. he was thinking of what to say to you. a million things running through his mind. you make it to the two bathrooms and you go and open the women’s bathroom door before it feels ten time lighter and you see subong holding the door open for you. giving you a cheeky grin. you just look at him before making your way into the bathroom and the door closing behind you. you hadn’t even noticed that you were holding your breath before you breathe out and realized your lungs were burning.

“i really have missed you, you know?”

you snap your head around and see that he had followed you into the bathroom and you call him a perv, yelling at him to get out.

“hey! i’m not here to fuck alright. i mean, unless you’re down then babe, let’s get it fucking going.”

he claps his hands together and you give him a disgusted look before going into one of the bathroom stalls and slamming the door shut so you could finally piss. but when you were done actually doing your business, you just sat there with your face in your hands. he was stressing you out, this baby was stressing you out, and this place was stressing you out and you were on the verge of a breakdown.

“i’m not coming out until you’re gone.”

you see his feet right under the bathroom stall door you were in and groan. hearing the door creak a little, assuming he was leaning against it, which he was.

“baby, please. i just want us again. i’ve missed you so much, you’ve been the only thing on my mind since you left.”

you started to tune him out and started rubbing your face in your hands even more, feeling your eyes start to water, your breath getting caught in your throat, your sniffing starting to become louder before one of your sobs slips and he hears it. asking if you were okay and you just ignore him, covering your mouth with your hand, continuing to cry.

“please let me in.”

you take a deep breath and slightly get up to unlock the door before sitting back down on the toilet seat, face still in your hands. he crouches down to you and cups your face in his hands before he pulls you in for a hug and starts rubbing circles into your back. your sobs getting louder as you burry your face into his bloody jacket, but you really weren’t thinking about that. god thinking of when you two were like this made you start to regret the past, yearn for a future with you two, and hate the present situation you were in. still crying into his jacket as he continues to try to soothe you with his touch. he pulls away after awhile and pushes your tears away with his thumb. his heart crumbling as he sees your teary orbs looking him in the eyes. you’d cried to him before when you were together, and he had comforted you many times before, but never had he seen you this distraught. he hooks his arm under your shoulder and lifts you to standing and he moves you out of the bathroom stall. you wipe your tears away, mumbling a sorry, avoiding all eye contact with him, looking at the ground.

“baby, look at me.”

your eyes look around at the ground before you slowly move your head up to look at him, a small pout on your lips. biting them from the nerves. it was a bad habit you’d never gotten rid of, you’ve had it since he’s met you. he looks at you, almost looking through your eyes. he places one hand on your arm, and grabs your right hand in his right hand, the matching tattoos clashing together.

“please, give me another chance. we’ll figure out the money, work, all of it.”

he pauses and looks down at your stomach. moving the hand that was on your arm to hold your stomach. looking up at you for confirmation that he could and you give him a small nod before he rubs the side of your tummy.

“i just can’t believe it. you should’ve told me!”

he raises his voice and you look away. still about to completely knaw off your lip.

“i didn’t think you’d want to stay. can you blame me?”

he pauses his rubs on your stomach, other hand still in yours and moves the hand that was on your stomach to your face, making you look at him. putting his thumb on your lips, getting you to stop biting them.

“i promise i want to be there for you and for our baby.”

you take a deep breath and he rubs his thumb on your tattoos.

“i won’t leave you, i’ll be better for us, i promise baby.”

you whisper under your breath. can’t believing you were about to say what was about to come out of your mouth.

“you promise…?”

his eyes light up.

“i promise baby.”

he pulls you into a tight hug and he hears you groan, forgetting that he might’ve been putting too much pressure on your belly. he gives you an awkward smile and he takes your hand into his and holds both your guys hands up to your face, as if showing you that he was never gonna let go of you again, and you two couldn’t be separated. you give him a light smile before letting go of his hand and he gives you a look of confusion.

“what? you never gave me the chance to wash my hands.”

[littlegrapejuice]

Grid Mum 6 | MV1

Pairing: Max Verstappen x Reader

Summary: The European triple header - or: a poor attempt at flirting, a jealous boyfriend, mother's day, a Cars screening at home, and some cuddles.

Author's Note: obvious enough from the summary, but here is the imola/monaco/barcelona chap! I really enjoyed writing this one so i hope you'll enjoy reading it🫶🏻

F1 MASTERLIST🏎 | Previous Part | Next Part

Franco had been given one rule when he had hung out with the other rookies ahead of the Imola Grand Prix.

“Please, don’t flirt with Max’s girlfriend.” Ollie’s tone was stern, indicating that it was a serious matter.

“Why?” Franco hadn’t met you when he had replaced Logan last year, and he wasn’t even sure of what you looked like. So why were you important now?

“Because she’s nice to us,” Kimi explained.

“Literally the nicest”, Liam added with a nod.

“Yeah, and she takes care of us during race weekends. Even Max hangs out with us, and it’s so fun to spend time with them. So if you flirt with her, then Max will be mad. And we don’t want to be blamed for your fuck-up because we’re all part of the same group,” Gabriel concluded.

“Wow… okay, mate. I won’t do anything so we’re good, don’t worry. I’ll behave”, Franco assured.

After this conversation, the rest of the rookies really thought that Franco had gotten the message.

One rule. Just one tiny little rule.

And Franco broke it on Friday, barely a day later.

In his defence, it wasn’t his fault. Why? Because no one had actually shown him a picture of you, and Franco hadn’t thought of looking you up. So he still didn’t know that it was you he was talking to when he walked up to you with a charming smile on his face.

“Hey,” he simply said. “Red Bull fan?” He pointed to his head in reference to the cap you were wearing.

This was courtesy of Max, who hadn’t wanted you to wear a Mercedes one. Kimi had offered you one of the signed caps that had been amongst those he had given to his classmates, hoping that you would support him at his home race. With a scoff, Max had quickly removed the cap from your head when you had come back to his garage and he had then exchanged it for the one he had been wearing.

“Yeah”, you confirmed with a nod as you readjusted your cap. You were about to introduce yourself to Franco due you two having never met, but you didn’t have time.

“Any chance I could turn you into an Alpine fan?” Franco raised an eyebrow at you, his tone teasing. “I could even give you a tour of my garage if you want.”

It took you a few seconds to process Franco’s words, as well as his attitude, before you realised that he was trying to flirt with you. You kind of wanted to laugh, finding the situation quite funny. You hadn’t imagined that Franco out of all people would try and flirt with you, but then you realised he might actually be completely clueless about who you were.

“Oh, that’s sweet of you but I already know what an F1 garage looks like.” You gave him your best friendly-but-rejecting smile, and hoped he would get the message. “I practically live in them at this point.”

“Even if I’d be your personal tour guide?”

“This isn’t a really convincing argument”, you told him. “Jack put the bar high enough, if I’m being honest.”

“Shit, you’re friends with Jack?” Franco was now unsure on how to keep the conversation going, thinking that you would be one of those blaming him for what happened to the Aussie driver.

“I’d say more than friends, but yeah that tracks.” Sensing Franco’s nervousness, you tried to reassure him. “I’m not mad at you by the way. If anything, it’s Alpine that I want to burn to the ground.”

“Cool… yeah, that’s cool… So he wouldn’t be mad if I tried to ask his friend out?”

“Jack probably won’t be, but my boyfriend might not like that.” The innocent smile on your face felt more like a warning than anything else, due to the sharper tone in your voice.

“My bad, I didn’t know. Sorry about that, then.” Franco was being genuine. He was a charmer through and through, but he wasn’t about to keep trying to pursue you now that he knew you were taken. “He’s a lucky guy, that’s for sure.”

“Who’s a lucky guy?”

Turning to where the voice had come, Franco and you saw that Max had come to stand beside you.

“Her boyfriend”, Franco honestly explained. “It seems like I was unfortunately–” His voice kind of died down when he noticed that Max’s arm had made its way around your waist. Clearing his throat, Franco was now more nervous than ever. “I was unfortunately flirting with a woman who’s got a boyfriend, which is you I guess…”

“You’re guessing well”, Max confirmed as his grip on your waist slightly tightened. “No need to introduce you to my girlfriend anymore, then?”

“Nope, all good. I– I need to go to my garage so… see you later, yeah.” And with that, Franco awkwardly left the conversation. He knew he had fucked up the only thing that his fellow rookies had asked of him, and he really hoped they wouldn’t hear about it.

“More like ‘see you never’”, Max mumbled under his breath once Franco was out of earshot.

“You scared the poor guy, Max.”

“Shouldn’t have flirted with my girl,” Max replied as if it was obvious.

“He didn’t even know who I was!” You tried to advocate for Franco, but in vain.

“Well, now he knows!” Max argued.

You let out a sigh at Max’s jealous attitude, although there was a smile on your face showing that you had a hard time actually being annoyed by your boyfriend.

“Go drive your little car and stop terrorising kids, Max.”

“He will not become our kid, by the way. He’ll stay a regular kid, we already have enough.”

“Just because of him flirting?”

“Trying to flirt,” Max clarified. “Clearly, he was never succeeding.”

“You’re being so mean, he was actually sweet and respectful.”

“He can be sweet and respectful, but far from you. Like… the opposite side of the paddock from where you are.”

“You’re pushing it.” But despite your complaints, you had to admit that jealous and possessive Max was cute. He was never this dramatic when you interacted with other men, so this was actually kind of funny to witness. “I’ll stay very very far away from him if you want, is that alright?” You wouldn’t actually go out of your way to avoid Franco, but what Max didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him.

“Yeah, perfect.” Max had a proud grin on his face. “I’ll see you after FP1?”

“Might have lunch with the rookies while we watch the F3 and F2 qualis”, you notified Max. “I’ll keep you updated.”

“No problem, sounds good.” He then kissed you goodbye, before making his way to his garage while you made yours to hospitality.

…..

Following FP1, you met with Gabriel. He had crashed at the end of the session, bringing out a red flag, but was thankfully alright.

“You were doing great out there”, you told the rookie. “P9 in FP1 is promising.”

“It’s practice,” Gabriel pointed out. “Only the first of the weekend so…”

“But that means you’re starting the weekend well!” You wanted to encourage him, genuinely believing that he was improving with every grand prix. “I’m sure you’ll keep this up.”

“Thanks for the support. But now I’m starving, so please let’s get something to eat.”

“Lead the way.”

While you and Gabriel were eating, you watched the F3 qualifying session and discussed upcoming talents. Gabriel teased you about soon becoming the grid mum of every young driver, due to you already noticing them from the lower categories.

When the session was over, there was a small break before the F2 qualifying would start so you and Gabriel just stayed together. It was only the two of you for another half hour, until Gabriel noticed a fellow rookie walking by and called out for him.

“Franco, mate!” Gabriel waved at the Argentinian, hoping to introduce the two of you.

“Hey.” Franco hesitantly approached, giving you a small nod as a sign of greeting.

“This is Max’s girlfriend,” Gabriel said. He held Franco’s gaze for a bit, as a warning for him to remember what the rookies had told him the day before.

“Oh, we actually met earlier!” Unaware of what you would be causing, you thought it would be fine to share the information. “I got offered a private tour of Alpine, can you believe how lucky I am?” Chuckling at the memory, you had no idea that Franco was now wanting to escape the conversation due to Gabriel threateningly looking at him.

“That’s so nice of Franco, yeah”. Gabriel’s tone was far from nice, his eyes now throwing daggers at his fellow rookie. “I hope he didn’t bother you, did he?” Gabriel needed to make sure that what he was thinking – Franco having broken the only rule he had been given – was unfortunately true.

“No worries about him,” you reassured him. “Max actually used the ‘scary boyfriend’ persona on him – sorry about that, Franco.”

“Oh… hmm, it’s fine. No worries,” he told you with a nervous smile. “I think I’ll let you two enjoy your time together. I gotta meet with my team to discuss… stuff, yeah… just stuff.”

“Sure, okay! We’ll probably see each other later in the triple header anyways.”

“Yeah, the triple header. That’s great, super great.” Franco waved as he slowly began to walk away from you and Gabriel, now knowing that he wouldn’t hear the end of it once all the rookies would be aware of the situation from earlier.

“See you later, Franco. Enjoy the weekend, while you can.” Gabriel had an innocent smile on his face, but his eyes were definitely not matching it. He was ready to share the story to his friends as soon as he would have the opportunity, ready to gang up on Franco for his mistake.

Completely oblivious to the tension between the two drivers, you then brought back the topic that you and Gabriel were talking about before Franco had been there. Until it was time for FP2, you stayed with Gabriel as you watched the F2 qualifying session together. You wished the rookie luck, hoping that Italy would be good to him.

And despite only getting P16 in the other two practice sessions, it seems like you had been right to encourage Gabriel as he managed to reach his first Q2 of the season on Saturday – which was unfortunately at the expense of Ollie not getting further than P19, due to a red flag caused as the Brit was crossing the line.

Thankfully, there was no bad blood between the two of them and they honestly both knew that neither of them would be fighting for points on the next day.

You would still be rooting for them to have a nice and safe race, but your focus would mainly be on Max. He would start P2, next to Oscar’s McLaren on the front row, and you were certain that he was ready to do anything in order to secure a fourth win in a row here.

…..

You could only stop breathing as you watched the drivers reaching the first corner. Oscar was forced to brake early in order to keep George behind him, which gave Max the opportunity to overtake him. It was a clean and precise move, which made you sigh of relief when your boyfriend had successfully taken the lead of the race.

And that was all he had needed to do in order to claim a win here in Imola, for Red Bull’s four hundredth grand prix.

Max found you as soon as he got out of the car and removed his helmet, running to where you were standing with his team in parc fermé. As usual, he hugged you first. You couldn’t quite catch what he was saying due to the cheers around you, but you managed to understand a few words:

“This one’s for my girlfriend”, he bragged before hugging you tighter.

You could literally hear his smirk, which you then felt when he kissed you.

“Congrats, champ. That was beautiful”, you told him before he removed his arms from around you to go interact with his team.

You watch him hug his team principal, his engineers, his mechanics. They were responsible for most of it, but Max was the real star today. A star that you could only admire as your eyes never left him, even when he gave his interview as one of the top three finishers.

Max then disappeared for the cooldown room, before your eyes found him again when he went to stand on the podium. Victory always looked good on him, especially when he was so deserving of it.

It was in those moments that the world had to remember that Max Verstappen was a four-times world champion. Maybe the two McLaren drivers next to him on the podium were leading both drivers’ and constructors' championships, but Max wasn’t far behind and he was definitely not going out without a fight for a fifth consecutive title.

_________________________________________________

Although Monaco wasn’t your favourite race of the year, you loved being able to spend a week at home. And you knew Max was glad for that too. You didn’t have to come back to a hotel room every night, and you could wake up with the familiarity of your routine.

Except that there was a new variable in your routine this year, thanks to some rookies whom you had adopted along the way.

When you arrived at the paddock on race day, you hadn’t been surprised to see your six grid kids waiting near the entrance. They seemed to be discussing something important, hushed voices overlapping each other.

Ollie was the first one to notice you, and he nudged the other rookies to notify them of your approaching. And that was when you thought things were a bit weird.

“Hi boys, everything alright?”

They all seemed to suddenly be nervous at your presence, straightening up and looking at each other with unsure glances. You noticed that a couple of them were hiding something, which you would very soon discover what it was.

“It’s… hmm, not much… but…” Kimi had decided to be the spokesperson of the group, but he had somehow forgotten his lines. He thought about winging it, and went straight to the point. “Happy Mother's day!”

And that was the cue for Isack to reveal a beautiful bouquet filled with your favourite flowers – they had to thank Max for the information – while Jack was holding a box of chocolates with a card on top of it in your direction.

“Oh!” Was the only word you could manage to get out before you choked up. You wanted to cry. You wanted to sob here and there – not caring about the people that might be watching. The gesture was so pure and kind, you didn’t feel like you deserved it. And with the way that their smiles brightened in anticipation of your reaction, showing how proud they were of themselves for doing that? Yeah, you were done for. “I– sorry, I’m just emotional…”

Noticing that some tears were rolling down your cheeks, the rookies were suddenly panicking and they thought you didn’t like their surprise.

“Sorry, was it wrong to do that?” Liam asked, worry evident in his voice.

“It was supposed to make you happy,” Gabriel stated.

“Yeah! Not sad,” Ollie added.

“We didn’t want to make you uncomfortable”, Kimi said.

Seeing how their mood shifted was enough to make you now properly react to their change in attitude, especially when you saw that their smiles were starting to drop.

“Oh my God, no! Please don’t apologise!” You got closer to them, hoping to be able to show them your gratitude by taking their gifts into your hands. “This is just… like super really nice of you. And I wasn’t expecting that at all, so it took me by surprise. But that is truly so sweet of you. Thank you all so much for this, I don’t deserve it.”

“Of course you do!” Isack claimed.

“Yeah!” The other rookies agreed with a nod.

Chuckling at their enthusiasm, you now wanted to hug them to thank them for the gifts. You barely had time to put down the bouquet and chocolates before the rookies were the ones engulfing you in a hug first. It was certainly not practical to hug six people at the same time, but you tried to make it work until you decided to hug them all individually.

“Are you still crying? Jack wondered, when he heard you sniff in his arms.

“It’s happy tears, shut up. I’m blaming you for that,” you told him before tightening your grip around him.

It meant a lot to you that Jack had been involved with this. Despite him not really being part of the current rookies on the grid, he was still one when Max and you had adopted the group. So it had made sense for the other drivers to include him – they didn’t even think about not including him, it was just obvious to do so.

One by one, you hugged the six of them with a smile so wide that your cheeks were starting to hurt. You thanked them once again, telling them how grateful you were to have them.

“We’re the lucky ones there”, Ollie said. “We don’t care that you’re not like our real mum or shit like that.”

“We did honour our mums, by the way. We’re not bad sons”, Liam assured.

“True. But yeah, we needed to thank you for being there for us during race weekends. Because even if our parents are also there most of the time, it’s super cool to hang out with you because you’re real fun to be around. You’re more than a grid mum,” Isack affirmed. “You’ve become a friend as well.”

“Okay, shit. You’re gonna make me cry again and I don’t have any spare makeup with me”, you joked as you tried to keep your tears in.

They laughed with you as you kept thanking them – it seemed like the only thing you could do. In this moment, you really felt loved and cherished. You wouldn’t trade those kids for anything else in the world; and if someone were to ask them, they would definitely say the same.

…..

You hadn’t expected a journalist to approach you after the race, given that you were usually invisible in the paddock. Not that you were fully transparent either, but you were never the WAG that people focused on.

“Isn’t it weird that you’re getting so much attention from the rookies? Especially on a day like today.”

You had certainly not expected that question, and were definitely confused regarding the point the journalist was trying to make. The man had not even said ‘hello’ nor introduced himself, and that was probably all you needed to know about him to assess his personality.

“Sorry, I didn’t quite catch the full question. Could you repeat it, please?” You did your best to stay polite, even though you could already feel like the man was about to deal with something that you wouldn’t like.

“Well, we’ve seen you interact a lot with the rookies in the past few weeks – which most people could overlook. However, today is Mother’s Day and it seems like they have been acting as if you were deserving of as much attention as their real mothers earlier today. Anything to say about wanting to replace them?”

To say you were surprised by the man’s claim would be an understatement. Was he accusing you of stealing the rookies from their mothers? When have you ever tried to do that?

“I’m not sure where you found that information.” You tried to be diplomatic, not wanting to cause a scene, and plastered your face with your best fake smile. “I can assure you that I have done nothing to ever make it seem like I wanted to replace – as you’ve said – the kids’ mothers. And–”

“But you have been strangely close to them, right?” He interrupted you. He then did not even leave you time to answer before he kept going with his more-than-false ‘facts’. “Some people even claim that you have invited them to your home, can you confirm or deny? Are you doing all of this because Max does not want to have an actual family with you? Is there any trouble between the two of you?”

Now overwhelmed, you were having a really hard time listening to everything the journalist was saying. People hadn’t seemed to care about the exchange – probably due to the fact that the man wasn’t a well-known reporter and you were just a WAG. Still, the pressure you were currently feeling from his accusations was making you more nervous than ever and you were afraid that you would soon need to excuse yourself – which might make things worse if the man thought you were escaping because his assumptions were right.

Thankfully, someone decided to come save you.

“Is everything okay here?” Liam asked, his tone suspicious, as he came to stand beside you. He had heard the last couple of questions that the man asked you, and he immediately knew to intervene.

“Yeah, we’re fine. She’s just refusing to answer my questions,” the journalist explained. “Is she always this rude?”

“Well, maybe she’s not answering because you’re just spitting bullshit and assuming wrong stuff about her.” Liam shifted closer to you and glared at the man in front of him. “I don’t know who made up all this, but they’re dumb as hell. And if it’s you, then it’s no surprise I’ve never seen you before because your work is probably too mediocre to be read by actual drivers.”

“I will not allow you to speak to me like that!” The journalist was now fuming, overlooking the fact that he was talking to F1 driver Liam Lawson and focusing on how a ‘kid’ was insulting his work.

“Or what?” Liam snickered at the man’s anger.

“I’ll write about you, and I’ll have lots of things to say about how rude you both are to journalists who just wanna do their job. It’s no wonder Red Bull sacked you with an attitude like that,” he said with venom in his voice.

“How the hell are you talking to them?” Ollie, having heard the journalist’ voice get louder from afar, had come to see what the commotion was about. He hadn’t expected to see you and Liam, now wondering what was happening. The only thing he was sure of for now, was that the journalist had no right to yell at you nor Liam.

Now that two drivers were around you, people were starting to notice the little gathering and some of them stopped for a second to see what was going on.

“I talk to them however I want. I am appalled at how rude the youth is nowadays! I am simply trying to write my article, but everyone is really disrespectful around here.”

“If you weren’t the one asking dumb shit to her, then I would be way nicer to you.” Liam crossed his arms, fed up with the man’s attitude.

“My questions are far from dumb! You cannot tell me that it’s not bizarre and creepy from her to spend so much time around the younger drivers. I’m just wanting to know the truth here”, the man claimed.

“Listen, man.” Gabriel was the third driver to join the conversation, and he was definitely not glad with what he had heard so far. The noise had caught his attention, and he hadn’t hesitated in getting closer as the journalist kept getting angrier. “I don’t know who the fuck you think you are – and I probably don’t care – but you’re gonna have to tone it down, please. This is a public space, and your very loud irritating voice is bothering the people who actually work here.”

“And if you wanna talk about us hanging out with her, then I’ll give you something to write about.” Ollie, without a care in the world, took the journalist’s notebook and pen before he scribbled down some words. “Reason number one: she’s genuine, kind, and polite – definitely the opposite from you. Reason number two: we share the same passion that’s racing – and maybe you would be a better person if you had it too. Reason number three–”

“That’s enough!” The journalist interrupted as he violently grabbed his notebook back from Ollie’s hands. “I will not let myself be ridiculed by arrogant drivers like you for one more second.” And with that, he angrily stormed away from the conversation.

What you felt was an awkward silence settled between the drivers and you, as you were now embarrassed to have indirectly dragged them in this situation. However, it seemed like they didn’t care about it and were more worried about your well-being.

“Are you alright?” Ollie eventually asked, a soothing hand rubbing your shoulder.

“Did he do anything else to you before I arrived?” Liam wondered, not having been there from the beginning.

“I’m fine, guys. Don’t worry about me,” you reassured them. “Thank you for coming to my rescue, he was…”

“Being a bitch?” Gabriel suggested.

“An absolute arsehole?” Ollie added.

“Fucking pathetic that’s for sure,” Liam stated.

“I wanted to say a bit rude, but yeah those work as well.” You chuckled a bit at your own downplay of the situation. “He was kinda right, though… I don’t know, am I spending too much time with my boyfriend’s colleagues?”

“Please don’t think that man was right.”

“Yeah, Gabi’s right. And we’re not just your boyfriend’s colleagues,” Ollie claimed. “We’re literally your kids, thought we established that this morning”

“Grid mum? Grid kids?” Liam reminded you with a smile. “Ringing a bell?”

You nodded, grateful for the reassurance the rookies were providing you. You thought that you truly didn’t deserve them, and that maybe they were the ones actually taking more care of you than you did of them. But it felt normal to them: you were usually the one mothering. And if for once they could help you by being your knights in shining armour, then they were glad to do so.

Still, it would later seem that they wouldn’t stop needing to count on you when it mattered. And you knew as much as they did that you wouldn’t say no to them, no matter the situation.

…..

Are you asleep?

The text had come from Isack. Looking at the time, you noticed that it was quite late and you wondered if he needed anything. You told him that no, you were still awake and asked him there was something wrong. You didn’t know what you were expecting, but it was definitely not this reply:

I’m in front of your building, can i come up?

I understand if you’ll say no

Now kind of worried, you wasted no time ringing Isack in. It only took a couple minutes before he was at the door, an unreadable expression on his face.

“Sorry to bother you”, he shyly apologised.

“You’re not bothering me at all,” you reassured him. “Is everything alright? Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I am. I just– I was out with some friends et… j’sais pas… kinda tried to go clubbing but it wasn’t really my scene anymore at one point and I left.” Isack ran his fingers through his hair, his frustration obvious. “Next thing I know, I’m walking to yours et me voilà.” He nervously chuckled, still unsure of how you’d react.

“Okay,” you simply replied with a nod. “Well, for starters I’m glad you’re alright. Can I get you anything to drink or eat?”

“Hmm, yes please.” Isack finally entered your home before you closed the door behind him. “Just some water is fine, thanks.”

“No problem. Just go sit and I’ll be back.” You walked to the kitchen, getting a glass for Isack, before going to the living-room where Isack had made his way already. “There you go,” you said as you handed him the glass.

A silence then settled between the two of you, as Isack almost gulped down the drink while you debated asking him more questions about his evening.

“Can I spend some time here? Just for a bit, I won’t stay long and bother you much.”

“You can stay as long as you want, Isack.” You offered him a gentle smile, reassuring him. “Wanna do anything? We got video games, lots of films…” You thought of other ideas as you kept listing things. “We can just chill in silence if you want some peace and quiet. Hmm, we can bake? I have some paint somewhere, or I can teach you how to knit. Choices are endless here.”

“A film sounds nice,” Isack decided.

“Something in mind?”

“Maybe one we might have both watched,” Isack suggested.

“Wait a second”, you told Isack before standing up and going to look at your DVD shelf. Your eyes caught a familiar box, and you smiled knowing that the driver wouldn’t refuse to watch it. “Cars?”

As you had guessed, Isack’s face lit up at the offer and he immediately nodded with a grin.

“Knew you would like that”, you teased as you turned the TV on and put the DVD in the player. You then went back to sit next to Isack on the couch, ready to start watching his favourite film.

You hadn’t thought about how fun it would be to watch Cars with a big fan like Isack, but it was probably the most you had ever laughed while watching a film with someone other than Max. Isack knew every line. He gave you some fun facts about characters, and told you all his favourite things about them.

It was definitely a moment you would cherish forever.

Isack didn’t even notice when Max joined the two of you for the second half of the film, too focused on continuing to show you his knowledge. Meanwhile, Max was softly smiling at the scene. Your eyes met his after a bit, and he raised an eyebrow at you as if to ask if you were having fun. Quickly glancing at Isack, you then looked back at Max and gave him a nod along with a bright smile before going back to listen to the rookie next to you.

Safe to say, you definitely wouldn’t mind watching the rest of the trilogy with Isack one day if it meant that you could relive a similar moment as tonight.

_________________________________________________

By Barcelona, Max was over it. From his team putting him on hard tyres for the last laps of the race to the incident with George, Max was just done and he didn’t hesitate showing it to everyone watching.

He didn’t care anymore. He didn’t care that everyone would be looking for him, whether it was his team or interviewers. He just wanted some peace and quiet. So as soon as he came back to his garage, his only goal was to find you. And when he did, he simply took your hand to drag you to his driver’s room.

When he locked the door, you almost thought that he wanted to let out his frustration with some less-than-family-friendly actions and you were ready to indulge him. But he actually just sat on the couch with a sigh, before he motioned for you to come closer. And you realised that Max just needed emotional rather than physical intimacy.

Max waited for you to sit down next to him before he laid back on the couch, his arms going around your waist to pull you closer until you were both lying on your side. Your hand went to take one of Max’s, acting as a sign of comfort. His grip tightened around you, while he hid his face in the crook of your neck.

No words were needed between you. It was easy to understand what Max was going through. You obviously couldn’t fully relate to it, but you understood.

Throughout the years, you had witnessed Max’s highs and lows. You could read him like no one else, and you knew right now how he was feeling. It wasn’t the same kind of disappointment that Max felt after a DNF. This one didn’t hit as hard; it was just an accumulation of small mistakes that had piled up until now before eventually being too much.

And right now, you knew that the only thing you could do for Max was this: just being there for him. Your presence was more than enough for him, and simply holding you close to him was enough for Max to stay grounded.

Slowly lifting his head from where it has been resting on your shoulder, Max gave you a loving kiss on your forehead. A silent ‘thank you for being there for me’. An acknowledgement of your limitless and eternal support, which he wouldn’t trade for anything else.

Max had you, and you had him. The two of you having each other in this world was the only thing that you would both ever need.

…..

Max eventually apologised the next day, on his Instagram account, and you also knew that he had sent a text to George as well.

If someone were to ask you, it was almost like those two brought the worst in each other. But at the end of the day, it was a racing incident that did not deserve to impact whatever relation they had off track – were they even friends? Colleagues harbouring some weird unresolved tension? Sometimes even you didn’t know the exact way Max considered some of his fellow drivers, but there was for sure no pure hatred for any of them and it wouldn’t change.

Everything that had happened on track was fortunately not affecting them off track. You got proof of that when you and Max randomly met George at the Nice airport. The Brit was on his way to Paris to watch the Roland-Garros final – which you were extremely jealous of – and it was like nothing had ever happened between the two drivers as the atmosphere between them was nothing but respectful.

“So, you’re back to being besties again now?” You teased Max once George had left.

“Let’s not push it”, Max replied with a sigh. “You’re just saying that because you want us to join him in Paris.”

“What?” You tried to act innocent as you dragged out the syllable. “Me, wanting to go see what will probably be the most iconic final of this generation? No way,” you tried to deny in vain.

“Sorry, I’ll take you next year.”

“Yeah you better, Verstappen.” You nudged him with your shoulder, showing that you weren’t mad.

“You know, one day you won’t be able to call me by my last name if we both have it.”

“What?”

“What?” He repeated with a smirk. “Didn’t say anything.”

“I–” You were dumbfounded. You watched as Max began walking again, leaving you to stand in the middle of the airport by yourself. Were you crazy? Did you mishear him? No way, you thought. But still, you had to eventually accept that maybe you had misunderstood him because it would be impossible to make Max repeat himself if you had indeed heard him right.

While you were internally debating the conversation that had happened, Max was smiling at himself. His little plan was far from perfect for now, but it was nicely taking shape. He would eventually need some help – perhaps from some rookies that would do anything for their grid mum’s happiness, but right now it was just fun for him to make you go a bit crazy with his cryptic comments. After all, he had to make sure you wouldn’t say no once the moment would happen

..........

Taglist: @umm-i-love-u @callsign-mirage @freyathehuntress @elieanana @suns3treading @fastandcurious16 @l3thal-l0lita @urmomsgirlfriend1 @guacala

Ok so i fr thought i would never be done w this chap lol😭 i loved the ideas i had for it but idk it took me so long to acc write them

Hope y'all are still enjoying the fic!! I'm always looking forward to knowing your thoughts🫶🏻

I've begun writing the canada chap but I'll probs wait till next week to post it bc i wanna see what happens during the lil break in case there's anything worth mentioning (and if not, I'll let my brain imagine smth)

See you soon, take care of yourselves, love y'all xx

[kozachenko]

Shortly after that Zanmu drawing, I went on an art spree and made small little drawings of a majority of the current playable characters in Touhou (I've been procrastinating on drawing Aya and Ran) and finally gave myself refernce points for how to draw all these characters going forward! Also, don't mind the change in background colour, that's just me changing the background so the values are actually visible lol.

Artist's Notes;

So the first one I started with was Reimu, and the inspiration for her pose came from this pose reference on Pinterest of a girl doing ribbon dancing, and I thought "Damn, that's very Reimu-coded" and did a quick little Reimu drawing from that.

This was also the drawing where I finally learned what makes a Reimu drawing feel like Reimu. It's the shirt, it's literally just the shirt. I decided to try making Reimu's shirt have a stronger square shape and oh my god it's like I discovered some kind of secret sauce because it just feels so much more like Reimu. I also gave Reimu a tabard and loose pants because I felt like that also fit her very well and also tied in some element's of Yukari's design into hers. I also made her bow look more like a very geometric butterfly as a bit of a tie in to "Diochromatic Lotus Butterfly" and also because I think butterfly symbolism fits her a lot. I also left the hands unfinished because they are not the focus of this piece, Reimu is, I don't wanna cry over how I can't get the hands right and then never get to the actually fun parts of the drawing. Previously, I did some design experimentation with Reimu where I added a little ornament on her obi that was inspired by Yuna's design from Final Fantasy 10 (I can't remember if I ever posted that one lol, also FFX is so good you guys I love it so much) and I like it, I think it adds some fun assymetry to her design that I think makes it look neat. I also gave her some more traditional Japanese shoes (I don't know the name of them so please correct me if you know) since I've seen other artists doing it and I love that look so I added that to this drawing as well.

I also really like how Marisa turned out, I experimented a bit with her body type and outfit, though I didn't really go too off-model with her compared to Reimu. I liked the longer sleeves on her and I gave her a big bow on the back of her apron since I thought it looked cute. I couldn't find a spot for the bow on her hat that looked good so sadly that isn't present in this version of her :( I do like how her face turned out though, since I've also been experimenting with how differently stylized I can make faces in my art. I will always love mangas like Hunter X Hunter that can put two extremely differently stylized characters on the same panel and make it look cohesive, it's why I love the style so much.

I think the crulest irony is not being able to draw your favourite character well while you're hyperfixating on them, but then only being able to draw them how you picture them once they're no longer your favourite, and that happened with Sakuya here. I was initially gonna give her the flashiest eyeshadow known to man but when I removed the layer wih the eyeshadow rendering on it I ended up liking it more without it, so now she's just got some nice bottom lashes. I tried giving her more of an hourglass shape for her body type, mainly to differentiate her more from Reimu and Marisa, and I focused on making as many points in her drawing as sharp as I can. I also gave her some white gloves because I like the idea of Sakuya having fancy gloves, it fits her. To me, Sakuya has always been the most high femme of the main Touhou characters. Maybe this is just because she was my gay awakening, maybe it's just influence from the fandom, but it just kind of makes sense to me. Much like Marisa, I also emphasized the bow ribbons for extra oomph with the silhouette and when I added the red bows and looked at the overall design, I fixed the lack of red anywhere else by just... covering her in blood... I mean she does work for two vampires and she's exactly the sanest person in Gensokyo so please pardon my indulgence in edginess it couldn't be helped.

Youmu was really fun to do but also kinda challenging. In my mind I wanted to make her feel different compared to everyone else I've drawn so far, short enough to be somewhat accurate to canon, but not too childish looking since she never really acts all that childish in cannon and it wouldn't make sense for her to look like a child. I also had to make her look fast and speedy without her looking like Sakuya and potentially avoiding same body syndrome with Aya, who's whole gimmick is speed. In the end, I think her drawing is my favourite, mainly because of the shapes and silhouette. I also really like how I golden-ratioed myon. I also took a few liberties with her outfit and decided to give it some layers to add visual interest. I also like how the cuts in the clothing add more triangles, which adds to the shape language. For her face, I was wondering what to do with her eyes until I decided to just go for the simple, glowing, circular eyes she has in the final product. I was also listening to a bunch of Gorrilaz albums while drawing these (Demon Days is my favourite album btw, idk how basic of a take that is though) and my brain 100% was subconsciously influenced by some elements of the art style (it's so good omg). I also like the shade of green I gave her, though I am a certified green lover so I am 100% biased.

Reisen is where I let myself get a little weird with it, because as you can see, I turned her into an anthropomorphic bunny because she is a weird moon rabbit god dammit, why should she look normal? I was more excited about drawing her IN design than her modern design so that's why she's dressed like that, but I do have a sketch of her in my sketchbook of her modern design. I also had fun rendering her velvet suit jacket. This also helped me tie in some of the reds in her eye and ear, which is also a nice bonus. I also gave her pure white fur to create more visual contrast. Overall, I'm pretty happy with how she turned out, though I wish I didn't shade the legs too much because it's kinda blending with the skirt colour....welp, ya win some ya lose some I guess.

Sanae is also relatively on-model compared to everyone else here, though I did try to make some changes to her outfit to make her feel different from Reimu. First of all, I made her big sleeves (IDK the proper Japanese term for them, if there is one, so again if you know please correct me on this) more open than Reimu's, as well as making them more pointy to give her a different silhouette. I also tried out a new rendering style on her eyes that I also applied to Cirno (we'll get to her in a moment) to also make her face feel different from Reimu's. I'll be honest, I didn't really know what to do with her body type so she just kinda got the "basic slim girl" look in her drawing. I'm not too big a fan of the frills I added to her skirt though, I don't really think she needs them. I'm glad I gave Reimu pants and a tabard instead of a normal skirt because that does help to make the two of them feel different. I also kept her little frog hair clip the same shade of blue as her dress, mainly to economize my colour usage and limit the palette into something a little more tight-nit. I do like how her little hair snake looks though, it's cute lol.

And finally, we have Cirno. I have been a firm believer of "long sleeve Cirno is best Cirno" ever since I saw the art of her in PMiSS because she's an ice fairy, I think it would make sense for her to want to keep herself warm, same reason she has little socks too. Now that I look at it more, her colours are pretty similar to her design in Great Fairy Wars, and honestly I like that, I think keeping her colour palette simple is a good idea so I'm happy about that. I mainly wanted to focus on rendering her wings though, mainly because rendering ice and crystals is fun even though I have done zero studies of them! I also wanted to experiment with rendering her eyes in a similar way to Sanae's, and I like how they turned out! I don't know if I'll continue with this style in the future but it will probably stick around because to me, any stylistically different way of doing eyes is another facial feature I can use to bend the rules of same face syndrome.

While I'm on the topic, I want to mention that the reason Hunter X Hunter's art works so well is because everything is kinda rendered the same. It showed me that if you do everything else consistently in your style (i.e. rendering, lineart, shading), stylizing each character's faces differently will be a lot easier, at least that's how I see it. IDK if I'm ever gonna do drawings of Aya and Ran in this style since I gotta think about them more as well as stop procrastinating lol.

[ms-demeanor]

I've seen you say a few times that it's a good idea to have a password manager; could you explain why? I always feel like I'm missing something when it's mentioned because it's phrased as if there's an obvious danger that password managers protect you from, but I'm honestly not sure how they help keep passwords secure.

The obvious danger is human nature. Humans are bad at creating passwords; your passwords are almost certainly easy to guess, repeated across different accounts, or both, because that is just how the vast VAST majority of people create passwords, because humans are bad at creating passwords. Everybody knows "the rules" for creating passwords (don't use the same password on multiple websites, don't include personal details in your passwords, don't use very common words or letter or number sequences in your passwords, don't tell other people your password) and people break all of those rules anyway.

A standalone (not in-browser like firefox or chrome password manager, though those are better than nothing) password manager stores your passwords, generates complex passwords for you, and can also be used for things like storing notes on passwords (like "did I put my MFA on my email or my cellphone or an app for this password?" or "here are the made-up answers to the security questions I used for this website because I definitely didn't use real answers or answers I'd used on previous websites" or "these are the bills associated with this credit card").

With the way the current security landscape works, there are two things that are extremely important when you are creating a password:

Uniqueness

Complexity

The overwhelmingly prevalent way that people get "hacked" these days is through credential stuffing.

Let's say that your private data was revealed in the Experian breach a decade ago. It revealed your name, email address, and phone number. Now let's also say that your private data was revealed in one of the many breaches from social media sites; that one revealed your name, email address, phone number, password, and security questions.

If someone wants to try to gain access to one of your accounts - let's say your bank account - if they have your name and phone number (usually extremely easy to find online), they can cross-reference that information with data that has been revealed in previous breaches - now they've got your name and your email address (which you probably used to sign up for your online banking and have ABSOLUTELY used as your login for accounts all over the place) and at least one password that you've used somewhere.

But the thing is, they don't have one password. They have every password associated with that email address that has ever been revealed in a breach. If you go to the site haveibeenpwned.com you can enter your email and see how many times your email address has appeared in a breach. You can compare that with the number of passwords that were revealed in those breaches and you can ask yourself "what did those passwords have in common?"

Because I can tell you, my Tumblr password from 2013, my Kickstarter password from 2014, and my Disqus password from 2017 (all revealed in various breaches) probably had a lot in common.

So, now the hacker has: your name, your email (which is probably your username), and various passwords they can try to use to log in. Did you use the same password for Facebook and Twitter eight years ago? Did you use parts of that password for creating your bank password? If you heard that twitter passwords were exposed in a breach you probably changed that password, but did you change the bank password that you built on the same structure? Probably not.

So what people will do is gather up all of this information and guess. They'll try your 2017 Disqus password to see if it will get access to your bank account. They'll try your 2020 Gravatar password. They'll try your 2024 Internet Archive Password.

And the reason they do this is because it works.

And the reason that it works is because we are all fucking garbage at remembering unique, complex passwords so instead of creating actually unique, complex passwords most people pick one memorable word or phrase, one memorable number, one unusual character, and *MAYBE* one feature of the site they're creating the login for and they use that template forever (1988Tumblrmacabre!, 1988Facebookmacabre!, 1988Ticketmastermacabre!) OR they create one password that they think is complex enough and use it across multiple sites with minor tweaks ($n0h0mi$hRu13z, sn0h0mishRul13z!, $n0h0mi$hWA) as needed for the sites' password requirements.

So most of what password managers do that is a drastic security improvement over people creating and memorizing passwords is that they create passwords that are functionally impossible to guess and functionally impossible to memorize. The problem with memorizing passwords (which is what you're doing if you're creating a bunch of passwords that you type in all the time) is that you can't actually remember all that many passwords so you'll repeat those passwords. The problem with creating passwords on your own is that passwords that humans create are pretty guessable. Even if you're doing a passphrase that's a long string of words you're probably working with common words ("correct horse battery staple" as opposed to "truculent zygote onomatopoeia frangible") and your password is more guessable than you'd really want it to be. Password managers don't do that, they generate gibberish.

Perhaps you are that rare person who gets out a set of dice and a notepad and rolls up every character for your password and memorizes it and never repeats, and if that's you, you could still benefit from a password manager because a password manager makes it easier to change that unique complex password when it is inevitably revealed in a breach.

So, okay, let's check in with where we're at:

Password managers mean that you don't have to memorize your password, which means that you don't need a password that is easy to memorize, which means that they can create passwords that are extremely complex and are therefore very difficult to guess. This protects you from crackers who will try to brute force your password.

Password managers mean that you don't have to remember extremely complex passwords for every account, which means that you are less likely to repeat your password in whole or in part across multiple accounts. This protects you from credential stuffers, who will try to use your password from one account that was revealed in a breach to open other accounts that were not.

Because password managers can generate and store complex passwords essentially instantly, you can replace passwords nearly effortlessly when there is a breach (no need to 'come up with' a new password, no issues with learning or memorizing it).

There are, however, advantages beyond that.

One major, MAJOR advantage of a properly-used standalone password manager is that it makes you safer from various kinds of phishing attempts and link hijacking. When you are setting up a password in your password manager (PWM from here on), you should be on the website that you want to log in to. The PWM will give you the option to save the domain that you're logging in to. That means the PWM will remember the correct URL for your Tumblr login so when you go to the tumblr login screen in the future, it will offer to fill those fields. What it will NOT do is offer to fill those fields if someone sends you an email that spoofs tumblr support and wants you to log in at "tumblr.co" or "tumblr-support.com." Knowing this, and knowing that you should be putting your credentials in through the PWM fill option rather than copy/paste, is a GREAT way to protect against phishing that is often overlooked and definitely under-discussed.

Another advantage is that a standalone PWM will let you store secure notes with your passwords so that you can do things like keep track of recovery codes for the website, or generate gibberish answers to security questions. Security questions and answers are often revealed in breaches, can't be reset by the user as easily as a password, are repeated across websites MUCH more than passwords, and can be used to take over an account and reset the password. You shouldn't be giving real security answers, or even fake-but-repeated security answers; you should treat each of those like a password that needs to be complex and unique, which means that they need to be stored someplace (like a password manager).

I also personally use my password manager to store my car insurance information, my driver's license info, and payment details for easy entry, making it convenient for a lot of thing beyond password storage. (Bitwarden. My password manager is bitwarden. I recommend Bitwarden. go to ms-demeanor.com and search "bitwarden" to learn more.)

As to how they keep your passwords safe, aside from ensuring that you don't enter your credentials into a skimming site, a good password manager is well encrypted. Your password safe should be functionally impossible to crack and what people tend to not realize is that a proper password manager (like bitwarden) doesn't keep all your passwords in one encrypted safe, each one of your passwords is in its own encrypted safe. If someone hacks Bitwarden it's not like using a huge amount of effort breaking into a bank vault and finding a big pile of money, it's like using a huge amount of effort breaking into a bank vault and finding a big pile of bank vaults. Each password within your vault requires decryption that is functionally impossible to crack (at least with a good password manager, like bitwarden, the password manager I recommend and think that people should use).

Additionally, just as, like, a side note: password managers never accidentally leave caps lock on or forget which characters are capital or lower case and don't require the use of two hands and focused attention on the keyboard. You're never going to mistype your password if the password manager is filling it, and you would not believe the number of people we support at work who require password resets because they are typing their password wrong and don't realize it.

TL;DR:

Password managers make better passwords than you can and they make it possible to instantly create, store, and enter complex passwords, which prevents password cracking and makes people less likely to reuse passwords. They are heavily encrypted and should be functionally impossible to access, and each individual password within the manager should also be encrypted if you use a good password manager. Password managers also prevent people from entering their credentials on scam sites by only filling on matched domains. Standalone password managers (not browser password managers) also allow users to create and store unique security questions and account details to prevent bad actors from gaining access with stolen security answers. The password manager I recommend is Bitwarden.

If people used password managers to create, store, and use unique and complex passwords, and if they did regular backups of their system I think that probably about half of the InfoSec field would be out of a job.

Please use a password manager!