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atheneum-of-you · 2 days ago
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This is a repost with added information! The previous post has been deleted in favor of this one. Huge thank you to @theic-manic for reminding me ♡
I recently conducted a poll on what topic people would like an in-depth post/guide on and creating prayers was very largely requested! So today I'll be going step by step on the significance of prayer, how to construct one yourself, how to construct an "offering prayer", and some basic questions surrounding them.
As always, I'm just a single resource, and everything I say comes from my own personal research. Always make sure to do your own when possible!
Buckle up, cause this is a long one!
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The Significance of Prayer to the Gods
When we think of prayer, oftentimes, the first thought is Abrahamic religion (Christianity, Catholicism, etc). We're taught that prayer is done to give thanks to the Lord, and to make our requests known.
While this is true to the gods of the hellenic Pantheon, there are some key differences. The biggest being tone and desire. Unlike what we're taught with the Abrahamic faith, the gods don't particularly favor "prayer." This is because prayer to the hellenic gods are typically crafted as petitions, requests for something, and the gods typically don't care for requests without offerings. This directly opposes the usual Abrahamic prayer, which typically is both request and praise simultaneously at all times. However, with the hellenic gods, prayer is typically just request FOLLOWED by offering. That's not to say a prayer can not become an offering, but the working of it is a bit different, and I'll go into detail about that later.
For now, we'll be separating the two as we learn how to construct our prayers.
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Constructing a Prayer of Petition
Posture
One of the most important starts to a prayer should be establishing how you pray. If praying to Olympian gods, you'll want to pray standing with your hands upright, facing the sky.
If praying to the chthonic, your prayers should be whispered, with your hands and head down.
If praying to the einalic, your arms should be outstretched towards the sea. If you're not near the sea (as many people aren't), cult images of the deity also suffice!
That said, this applies mostly to the ablebodied. While standing for the Olympic gods during orayer is standard, if this isn't possible for you, then sitting and kneeling are just as fine.
Tone
One of the most important things about a prayer is the consistency of our tone. Naturally, we approach with respect, and that respect should be consistent throughout the entire prayer.
That said, your level of formality should be consistent throughout your prayer. If you start informal, the prayer should remain informal all throughout. The same is held for formal prayers.
When we craft our prayers, they require 3 main components. Invocation, our kharis, and our petition.
Invocation
Naturally, fhe first step to creating a prayer would be to invoke our gods. This is how we get that god's attention, and request their attention. This will always start with the god's name, and for our example prayer, I'll use be using Hermes.
However, there's a lot more to a god than just their name. An invocation should be recognition of that god, and tell them that you know who they are and their significance/importance. For this, you can use epithets, their domains, and even their residences and parentage. Epithets have different meanings, so make sure if you're using one, it should pertain to the reasons for your prayer. For example, if I wanted to ask Hermes for a little extra luck, I might invoke using his luck bringer epithet, Eriounês. Or perhaps I wanted to ask him to deliver a message to a passed loved one, then I would invoke Hermes Trikephalos of the crossroads. So an example invocation could go something like:
"O hear me please Hermes Trikephalos of Arcadia, Herald of the crossroads, son of Zeus."
With this, we've invoked Hermes and informed him of who we are and our placement. We can finally move forward with our petition.
Kharis and Justification
The next step in constructing a prayer is to remind the god who you are, and your relationship with them. This can simply be your name, or your title amongst them (if you have one), or even just direct reference to your status with them (servant, follower, worshipper, devotee, etc). That said, this should also follow the tone of the prayer.
If you were to address Hermes as a worshipper, you'd probably say something such as "I, [name], your follower and worshipper, approach humbly and with grace." Once again, this can be completely tailored to you, and you can change things how you deem more appropriate.
Additionally, reminding the deity of things you've done in their name/provided as offering reminds them of the relationship you've established together. Let's say we've set up an altar for Hermes. We can add that to our prayer!
So altogether, our prayer sounds like:
"O hear me please Hermes Trikephalos of Arcadia, Herald of the crossroads, son of Zeus. I, [name], your follower and worshipper, approach humbly and with grace at the altar I've set in your name."
With this, we've invoked Hermes and informed him of who we are and our placement. We can finally move forward with our petition.
Petition
With what we have, we can now give our petition. Our petition is our request to that god. Naturally, this can be asking for assistance with something, but it can also be asking them to accept an offering or simply asking for their presence to chat, say good morning/night, etc.
I can't really give much guidance on how to craft a petition, because each one is unique and personal to the one praying. However, I can give examples!
If I were to stick to the epithet of Diaktoros, my petition would more than likely involve a message to a passed loved one.
"I ask that you deliver this message to [insert loved one's name]. [Message to be delivered]."
This is, of course, just a basic example but you can tailor this to your needs and desires.
Vow
The vow is incredibly important in prayer, and is a promise of offering or sacrifice to that god for listening to your prayers. Vows can be anything pleasing to the god (ensure it's something your god would enjoy receiving), and you'll want to clearly state the intention of providing it if you're not already. Hermes enjoys coins, so we'll use that as our vow. So perhaps we would say something to the affect of:
"I offer a piety of gold and silver coins for your mercy and kidness."
You dont need to immediately follow up a prayer with an offering, however offerings should absolutely follow answered prayers without fail as this is your vow.
Ensure that your vow is POSITIVE. A promise to give. Negative vows such as "if you help me do x I won't do y ever again!" are unfavorable to the gods. They gain nothing from that, and it's not done for the god but rather yourself.
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Prayers as Offerings
As stated before, prayers are not inherently offerings to the gods, moreso, they are requests. But can they be offerings? Well sure! However, our approach to them needs to be different.
Whereas our previous prayers were for requests, prayers for offerings should not contain requests but rather be appealing and aesthetic to the god.
A good example would be dedications of praise to that god. Once again, we'll invoke our god as we did previously. A dedication can start however you want and involve whatever praise you'd like! We'll use Dionysus for this example.
Dedication prayers will require some extra knowledge of your god than simply making requests, as we will be praising achievements of theirs. You can praise several achievements, or focus on a single one! For this example we'll praise several. So our example dedication can go as follows:
"Praise be to Lord Dionysus Eleuthereus, the almighty liberator, twice-born son of Zeus and Seleme!
Praise be to the generous wine giver, traveler of lands far and wide as his almighty vines spread!
Praise be the Bacchus, may we stomp our feet in joy and hail his mighty name! Father of kings!
We praise the mad one, slayer of the fool Damascus who denied our Lord's sacred gift!"
With this dedication, we've done several things. Invoked Dionysus with his epithet and parentage, praised his travels, glorified his lineage/children, praised his slaying of Damascus, and called attention to several iterations of him (the Bacchus and the mad one).
Additionally, this dedication gives the energy of being loud and high energy, things that are appealing to Dionysus. If we were to give praise to Apollo, we might favor a dedication more poetic with a more lyrical scheme. Or for Ares something far more militant and powerful, similar to a battle cry.
These dedications can also be accompanied by other offerings and given to the god during or after. Additionally, these dedications can be as long or short as you please! Just be sure to keep your god in mind while crafting them.
Take time to really learned your god, so thay you can offer dedications and praise to them in earnest!
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Common Questions
Will my gods be angry if I pray informally?
I wouldn't say angry, no. That said, every god has a preference. Certain gods simply prefer more formal prayers, but in the end, it all comes down to your personal relationship with your god. If you have a more formal relationship, they would expect a more formal prayer. The same goes for informal.
Do my prayers NEED to be followed up with an offering?
Nope, although it's good practice. That said, if your prayer is answered, an offering of thanks is essential to maintaining good Kharis with your god.
Can the Orphic/Homeric Hymns be used as prayers?
That really depends, but the short answer is yes. I personally don't consider them prayers as the Hymns are moreso dedications, but its entirely up to how you view them.
Are prayers made by other people less valued than prayers I make myself?
Not at all! Prayers are prayers.
My prayer wasn't answered! Does my god hate me?
Nope! There could be a multitude of reasons why your prayer isn't answered, and truly, it all boils down to the will of that god. We have no way of knowing their will or what they think, so if your prayers go unanswered, try not to take it to heart.
This is my first time praying to a god and we have no kharis yet, can I still pray to them?
Yes! All relationships start somewhere~
I hope this was helpful for you all, and I truly hope it inspires more people to write their own prayers and dedications. Feel free to ask for any clarifications at all, and safe travels, friends ♡
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the-little-squire · 20 days ago
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Heyo!! Welcome to my side account!! I'm Zacharie!! My main blog is @the-little-knight and I post art stuff there, but here is where all my other stuff is stored (so like, dumb videos I edit, art reblogs, ramblings, and maybe me just enjoying puppets)
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I hope you all enjoy this account and all that I have to bring here in the future!!!!!!
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blujaynoodles · 10 months ago
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holy shit y'all
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geodetojoy · 2 hours ago
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LEVIII i’ll cry i swear :((( /pos im always super happy when i see you interact with one of my posts i swear i know we’re not very close but im incredibly thankful for you too <33
@eowynarchives @mysteriouswolf @royallygray FUCKING. *YOU*. YOU GUYS. god words cannot explain how much you all mean to me and how much you’ve helped me through the year i am eternally thankful for you all im so so so so happy you exist and that i have the pleasure of existing at the same time as you and that by some miracle we all met <333 i love you all so so much and im so proud of you all for how far you’ve gotten
there’s so much more i could say but i. just woke up and brain no work rn /silly
@charbeloved CHARRRRR RAHHH
you were the first person to reach out to me and really my first friend i’ve ever made online and i genuinely wouldn’t be where i am if not for you and im just. so grateful for you and im so happy you exist and that we found each other <333 i know we’re haven’t talked as much recently but ilysm and you mean the world to me regardless
@jooberzzz @krisse33 RAHHHH FUCKING. YOU TWO. GAHHH
you guys are in the same vein to me where any time i see your disc pfp or name on tumblr my serotonin levels go through the roof
ily both sososo much you’re both just so incredibly kind and silly and you absolutely enable my silliness in the most /pos way possible im so grateful char was there to introduce us and i’m so grateful for both of you just. existing and being yourselves. never change ilysm <33333
@just-watching-dont-worry AXEL HIHIHI
i know we don’t talk a whole bunch but i love interacting with you and running to your inbox abt the newest genloss news and knowing you’ll be there to answer and i just really love having a fandom buddy in several of my main fandoms that’s not only just as invested as me but is also such a cool, kind, creative, and thoughtful being that i get the honor to know and be moots with <333
@kli-kli @rhondafromhr @paranormaltheatrekid @impulseowlll @yakuti-witch @insomnya777 @milgram and literally all of my other moots i apologize if i didn’t include you brain is eepy and memory is poor but you guys mean so much to me even if we barely interact <33 just knowing you guys are all just. individual people who decided to follow me and occasionally interact with my post makes me so so happy and i’m glad to be at least a tiny part of your wonderful lives <333
i love you guys more than the world (with the possible exception of my cats /silly) and i’m so grateful to know you all and exist at the same time as you <333
i am also thankful for @literallyd34d and @belladonnamoonundead
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loptrcoptr · 10 months ago
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Went on a trail ride with another girl I haven’t ridden with in a while l and said “hey let’s try this trail!” and then I nearly got us stuck in a fucking swamp
I literally said “haha, come on Bertie (my horse) it’s not like it’s quicksand” and then boom! it kind of WAS though and my pony is fat but she is small, so she got stuck up to her knees a few times but oh my god, poor Buster is a normal sized thick ol halter hog quarter horse boy and he almost went down. he sunk in on the left side up to his stifle. that’s like his hip man that’s like. Almost the butt. that was high-as-a-horse’s-hips mud. That was horse-thigh-gap-height mud. Oh my god.
This obviously scared the horse so then he scrambled out as best he could and he took his mom into a bank full of many sharp little trees and she almost came off and then had to get down and back him back into the mud to get him out and around the trees again
Was my horse as affected? No. Was I hit so hard in the face by tree branches that I bit my lip? No, but her horse reenacted the neverending fucking story for a minute there and she got pistol whipped by branches and I felt so bad 😭 in fairness, she never objected to exploring. not in fairness, it was absolutely my dumbass idea
This is why no one wants to ride with us, even when I try to have a chill walk-only lazy little trail ride I still manage to get us into some kind of chaos, because my riding style can only be described as Quaintly Unhinged™️
As pet tax, here’s my pony and her stupid stray dog she adopted, brave survivors of the sticky icky swamp
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spaceyflowerswriting · 2 years ago
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my notifs are starting to scare me i cant believe that many people are looking at and enjoying my stuff
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allseeinggoggles · 3 days ago
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This is a good list, so I thought I could try it myself. Here's my picks:
GUYS
OLIMAR - You've gotta have this guy. He's the main character of the Pikmin series, which has seen a surge of popularity recently. Nintendo it putting Pikmin on the level of Animal Crossing and even Kirby now.
OLIMAR - The Pikmin series is Miyamoto's pet project, they deserve a second rep.
OLIMAR - His name is an anagram of Mario, but with an L, therefore making him more important than Mario.
OLIMAR - Though Olimar himself didn't appear in the Wii to Wii U Data Transfer, his pikmin did. Therefore Olimar serves as a Wii/Wii U rep.
OLIMAR - Olimar does appear in New Play Control! Pikmin and New Play Control! Pikmin 2, both of which were on the Wii.
OLIMAR - I think you could play the New Play Control! games on the Wii U too.
OLIMAR - Gotta get that Alarmo rep in there too.
OLIMAR - He has a family man vibe that I think is sorely lacking in Ultimate's roster. Many will feel represented by this little man.
OLIMAR, OLIMAR, OLIMAR - People who do not feel represented by Olimar will feel represented by his pikmin, which follow him into battle.
OLIMAR, OLIMAR - One minor change, he gets a jetpack from Hey Pikmin.
Barely missed the cut: Mario, Diddy Kong, Luigi, Starfy, Cloud, Sora, Little Mac.
GIRLS
OLIMAR - Didn't you know Olimar is genderfluid? Cause she is.
OLIMAR, OLIMAR, OLIMAR - Bonus fact, Olimar is also bisexual. She loves her wife very much.
OLIMAR - This Olimar is from Pikmin 1 specifically.
OLIMAR - Olimar would be an excellent pick for new players. She has a very simple and easy to understand moveset.
OLIMAR - Olimar loves studying nature, and has the most in-depth Piklopedia entries. It stands to reason she could summon various beasties to fight for her.
OLIMAR - Self explanatory.
OLIMAR - It's weird that she doesn't get rock pikmin in any form in Ultimate. We're changing that, as well as adding Ice, Glow, and Bulbmin.
OLIMAR - One of the most iconic fighters from Melee, it only makes sense to bring her back.
MECHANICA (ARMS) - Gotta get a heavyweight female fighter in there!
OLIMAR, OLIMAR - It might be a little strange doubling up on the Pikmin reps, but it's a pretty big franchise. Some pikmin made it into Super Nintendo World, and I imagine tickets there are very expensive. Thankfully Olimar is loaded thanks to Pikmin 4 selling so much.
OLIMAR - Admittedly this one is a me pick.
Barely missed the cut: Ashley (WarioWare), Ashley Graham, Ashley (Until Dawn), Ashley Banks, Luigi
CREATURES AND CHARACTERS, TYPICALLY PLAYER, OF EITHER CARDINAL GENDER (like Pikachu or the Animal Crossing Villager)
OLIMAR - Olimar is in fact a player character, like Animal Crossing Villager.
OLIMAR - I could have placed them in the guys section but my hand slipped.
OLIMAR/LOUIE - They switch out like Pyra/Mythra, only from a game I've played. And less gross.
OLIMAR/LOUIE - They're actually just as gross as Pyra/Mythra, but not for fanservice reasons.
OLIMAR, OLIMAR, OLIMAR - Pokemon is one of the most famous franchises on Earth. Here's three Olimars.
OLIMAR - Remember to hydrate.
OLIMAR - There's tons of moveset potential from Bingo Battle in Pikmin 3. You could even pull some tech from Dandori Missions!
OLIMAR/LOUIE - They fight together like the Ice Climbers, only Louie doesn't attack or move at all.
OLIMAR - It's crazy how we have five (technically six!) Smash Bros games and still don't have Olimar in there at all! Let's fix that.
OLIMAR - For his Final Smash, he brings out Moss.
OLIMAR - This is the most controversial pick in the list. To better represent the unique gameplay of the Pikmin series, I want Olimar to play exactly like from his games, which includes a Z axis, linear health bar, not being thrown when hit, up to 100 pikmin on the field at once, and the jetpack from Hey Pikmin.
Barely missed the cut: No one. There were no other options in all of gaming.
As you can tell, my list is perfect and therefore needs no notes. THank you
A SEMI-REASONABLE 40 CHARACTER SMASH ROSTER
An exercise in indulgence and egoism, and posted as the same.
THE RULES:
1. Characters shall be semi-reasonable! Beatoriche I love you but this needs to be a roster composed of characters who could conceivably actually make it into Smash. They should be from video games, and ideally ones people care about.
2. Characters shall be gender balanced! I separated my picks into four categories: GUYS, GIRLS, and CREATURES AND CHARACTERS, TYPICALLY PLAYER, OF EITHER CARDINAL GENDER (like Pikachu or the Animal Crossing Villager). the number of GUYS shall be EQUAL TO OR LESSER THAN the number of GIRLS. I set this restriction on myself and so should you.
3. Characters shall be 40 of them! but you could tell that from the title.
GUYS
MARIO - You have to have this guy. also like it's been like 20+ years since Sunshine can we not give him something other than FLUDD?
DONKEY KONG, LUIGI, NESS, BOWSER, FOX, WARIO - You also have to have these guys. I cut Captain Falcon, as we already had Fox as a Smash original character.
LINK - Someday we will be able to put Link in the CHARACTERS OF EITHER CARDINAL GENDER list, but not yet.
KING DEDEDE - Sakurai made this so his faves get a little extra attention. I claim that same right.
SNAKE - Updated for MGSV, naturally.
SONIC (Palette Swap: SHADOW) - I really really don't care about these guys. I kind of actively hate them actually. but they deserve to be here, even if all their moves are the same (turning into a ball and the ball flies at you).
CLOUD - The iconic Final Fantasy pretty boy. Would I prefer Lightning? yeah. but this is the semi-realistic roster.
PHOENIX WRIGHT - I know, preaching to the crowd here. This guy is a tumblr darling behind only his boyfriend Miles Edgeworth. But they've put him in fighting games before! And he totally has a moveset, right? Presenting his badge as a jab, shooting OBJECTION and TAKE THAT! (HOLD IT! is a grab!), submitting paperwork and random items hoping and praying that they'll be accepted as evidence...
Barely missed the cut: Sans Undertale, Sekiro, Shulk, Solaire, Paper Mario, Sora.
GIRLS
SAMUS - You have to have this girl.
PEACH/DAISY - Ideally Daisy would get Luigified (this is the very technical term for when a Smash character starts out as a clone and then gets differentiated) as the Mario Sports Game Representation. But that probably wouldn't happen. Peach is fine. kind of
ZELDA (Breath of the Wild/Tears Of The Kingdom) - The opposite of the Smash Ultimate dynamic. Smash Lscholar Link is old-school Link; Zelda is newer Zelda. Like in Hyrule Warriors she fights using runes on her magic ipad/wii u pad/nintendo switch game console. Bombs, Ice Block, Ultrahand - and the ability to Recall all of them, sending them flying backwards along their trajectories when the attack is reinput. An evil zoner but let's be honest: she already is. Maybe she has a "take a picture" that can stun?
ISABELLE, ROSALINA - both need reworks. Isabelle in particular has the potential to be a Kirby for new players - but hitting with her is so hard that most try her for a round and play Toon Link instead.
BAYONETTA - No notes.
HORNET (Hollow Knight: Silksong) - Clear moveset, fan favorite, zero questions.
D.VA (Overwatch and, fine, Overwatch 2) - The single most popular Overwatch character by far, and a much needed female heavyweight character. Would translate pretty well to Smash as a pushy zippy tank-type.
EDELGARD VON HRESVELG (Fire Emblem: Three Houses/Three Hopes) - big smashy axe, avowed militant atheist, Vriska, Fire Emblem rep. Smash Lsclr's Ike. Slow but dangerous, with surprising range, much like Byleth; unlike Byleth she is an actual character. also her axe twirl has to be a taunt. Also she's canonically bisexual. which would make her the second bisexual smash character after Snake, and the third in my heart after Cloud Strife (Byleth isn't real).
REIMU HAKUREI (Touhou) - Iconic rep from possibly the single most important indie game series.
CHUN LI (STREET FIGHTER) - Honestly surprised they put Ryu in Smash. I feel like if you asked anybody to name a Street Fighter character Chun Li would be first?
UNDYNE (Undertale) - Fine. Susie (Deltarune) is also acceptable.
VI or JINX or SOME LEAGUE OF LEGENDS GIRL (LoL) - as with Sonic I don't care for these but they have undeniably earned their places. Arcane was better than it should have been and I really hope Mel Medarda survives into s2.
SABER (Fate/Stay Night) - It's Saber! I know this seems like a meme pick but I really do think she deserves to be here.
Barely missed the cut: Karlach or Shadowheart, The Silent, Arle Nadja, Vriska
CREATURES AND CHARACTERS, TYPICALLY PLAYER, OF EITHER CARDINAL GENDER (like Pikachu or the Animal Crossing Villager)
PIKACHU - You have to have this thing. Brand recognition on par with Santa Claus or Jesus. A creature for sure, even if its tail indicates biological gender.
KIRBY - This is technically a Guy but in practice this is a creature. also I have one less Guy than Girl so I could put him there, but I chose not to.
YOSHI/BIRDO - Put a trans woman in Smash. She's just a Yoshi reskin and that's fine.
MARTH/LUCINA - The other Fire Emblem rep. Why does Awakening get like three characters? may have to make Marth a bit less floaty to make this work but they really should consolidate these two.
POKEMON TRAINER (Charizard, Ivysaur, Squirtle) - good on nintendo for making it possible to play pokemon trainer as a guy or girl.
POKEMON TRAINER 2 (Gengar, Gardevoir, Lucario) - We have so many pokemon and here's three more. swap out one of your choice for Jigglypuff or Mewtwo or Mimikyu or Greninja or whatever, as long as your substitution isn't from Kanto. This pokemon trainer is a bit more of a tryhard, and wears darker clothing. also their pokemon are category balanced: one is a guy, one is a girl, and one is a creature.
INKLING - Kind of a creature and definitely not of either cardinal gender. these kids squids are nonbinary. A good addition to smash; may they goop and bloop for many games to come.
Wii FIT TRAINER - Mix in Wii Sports and Ring Fit and whatever else.
ANIMAL CROSSING VILLAGER/MINECRAFT STEVE AND ALEX/PACMAN AND MS PACMAN - CHARACTERS OF EITHER CARDINAL GENDER
NOAH AND MIO XENOBLADE (XENOBLADE 3) - Like Pyra and Mythra but less gross. Mio has faster short range chakram attacks and mobility; Noah has slower harder-hitting moves.
THE ASSASSIN (Assassin's Creed) - Snake represents Solid, Naked, and Venom; why can't The Assassin be Altair, Ezio, and whoever else?
Barely missed the cut: Duck Hunt, Toad/Toadette.
if you got mad at me about removing your favorite character reply and I'll tell you why I took them out. probably because I didn't care about them.
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whimsiwitchy · 3 months ago
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Controversially Young Girlfriend 
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Hugh Jackman x popstar!reader 
series masterlist & main masterlist
summary: y/n is a globally beloved pop star. She is known for her talent and dedication towards her craft. Recently, she has also been known for her preference for older men. After a breakup with her former older boyfriend, she had a run in with the hottest dilf right now, Hugh Jackman. Y/n tried to warn him, but what can she say, she has an effect on hot, older men. 
warnings: age gap (23/55), cursing, y/n used, implied shorter reader, afab reader, she/her pronouns. 
warnings will change as the story progresses! all descriptions of real people in this story are FAKE. i do not know these people and this is purely fiction. Please let me know if I missed anything! <33
authors note: this is an idea I had that I really needed to write. I’d love to make this a series if you guys want more, just let me know! This is only my second time writing fanfiction and my first time writing for Hugh, please be nice lol. Thank you for reading! <3
Part one: breakup and new beginnings 
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Being a young girl living in the middle of bumfuck nowhere made it seem impossible to live your dreams of becoming a singer. You grew up in a tiny little town in Louisiana called Minden. With a population of less than 15,000 people, the closest ‘big’ city being Shreveport, growing up was pretty boring. You had big dreams of making it big and making it the fuck out of the country. Minden wasn’t always so bad. It was a nice community that had fun things here and there, but you craved more. 
Once you graduated highschool back in 2020, you focused on working and saving as much money as you could, only buying essentials and equipment to help make music. You took a few online classes on producing and tried your best to make whatever song was bouncing around in your head come to life. It took a year for you to feel confident enough to release your first few songs out into the world. So in July of 2021, you teased a song on TikTok to your small following. You started to gain a few more followers here and there, it was exciting. At the end of August, you released your first song titled ‘to the point’ and it blew up on the clock app. You gained a hefty following after that, on the brink of hitting one million. 
By the end of 2022, deciding on Los Angeles, you had finally saved enough money to move, so you were packing your bags and heading out. Your agent was ecstatic about the move because it meant more opportunities for your career. After releasing a few more songs over the past year, you hired Stacy to help you manage everything. 
Fastwording to 2024, your dreams have come true and you have been an established and respected artist for almost two years. You started to build a reputation as someone who was dedicated and passionate about their craft- always being involved in any creative process. It was bliss. Lately though, you’ve gained another reputation, the controversial young girlfriend, a whore, a gold digger. Since you’ve been in the spotlight, you’ve had your fair share of dating history and if they all happened to be older men, so what? It wasn’t something you had planned on but older men were just built differently. They were so much sexier and put together than the guys your age. They knew what they were doing and how to treat a woman right. You were so tired of being asked out through instagram direct messages, you wanted someone who wasn’t afraid to talk to you in person, and that seemed to only come from men twice your age. You weren’t complaining though, you enjoyed it. 
Your last ‘scandalous’ relationship ended up being far more public than you intended it to be. In the beginning, the men you were seen with were never anything serious, just dates or one night stands. Though with Pedro it was different. You dated him for six months before it all came crashing down and you felt heartbroken. He was the sweetest man you’d ever been with and it all ended because the hate from fans on our age gap was too much for him. It was an ugly breakup and you were positive that he wouldn’t want to be associated with you anymore, even as friends. 
-
“I should have picked a different song.” You huff in frustration. Today you were going to be performing on BBC’s Radio 1 Live Lounge and as requested, you'd be performing your own song and a cover of your choosing. When Stacy first presented this opportunity to you, it had only been a month after your recent breakup and naturally you chose to cover ‘THE GREATEST’ by Billie Eilish. Now that you were mostly over Pedro, the song seemed silly to sing and you weren’t feeling as vocally confident now that you were here. 
“Babe, you’re gonna kill it! Just let your emotions flow, give the fans what they want.” Stacy is sitting across the room as she comforts you. She’s fidgeting with your vocal humidifier, attempting to put it together before you start warming up. Her advice isn’t terrible, she’s right. You’d been pretty silent on the subject matter, steering clear of social media so you wouldn’t say anything stupid. Rumors of your breakup had been all over the headlines but there hasn’t been confirmation from either of you. Singing this song today would definitely stir the pot again and make everyone realize that it is done between you two. 
“You’re right.” 
“As always. Here, start warming up the money maker.” She laughs while handing you the humidifier. 
“I really hope he doesn’t watch it. I’d literally smash my head into a brick wall out of embarrassment…” 
Placing the humidifier over your mouth and nose, you sit there letting your mind wander. Having your personal life exposed to everyone really sucked and hiding your boyfriends wasn’t something you wanted to do, but you knew that in the future it was something that would have to happen. 
“I think I’m taking a break from men.” You let out proudly, glancing over at Stacy. 
“Whatever you say girl.” You could hear the doubt lingering in her tone and the roll of her eyes. 
“Ugh… You don’t believe me do you? I can totally break off from men and be my own person for once.” 
“I’m not trying to doubt you babe. It’s just…You tend to attract men like a magnet and you have some severe daddy issues.” She's typing away on her laptop as if she didn’t just completely disrespect you. 
“I don’t have daddy issues.” You say flatly. “I happen to have a very loving father who was always present in my life, so the whole dating older men thing does NOT stem from daddy issues. Thank you very much.” You say matter of factly. 
“Hm..Well I give it a week.” 
-
After a few sound checks for your mic and band, you perform your first song. You chose a more upbeat song off your debut album to start, given that you were about to lay your heart out of the line. It was honestly kind of awkward performing in this setting. There was a booth in front of you that had the sound board and all of the other electronic stuff that you didn’t understand. Then right to the left of that, the cameras were positioned with a group of crew members sitting behind them. It always felt awkward performing to smaller audiences. 
The first song went by smoothly, earning a few cheers from the people in the room. As the band prepared for the next song, you could see the door in the booth open and two figures walk in. You weren’t wearing your glasses or contacts since it was supposed to be a short day, so you really couldn’t make out who had just walked in. You assumed more workers came in and brushed it off. 
“All ready?” A man behind the camera asks and you give a thumbs up. 
You somehow managed to get through the song without having any vocal mess ups. It was a challenging song and you'd definitely have to text Billie later to give her some credit. A few tears slipped here and there, feeling the emotions that you thought were gone slowly be released. You pulled yourself together and you felt really proud of the performance as a whole, showing the world the potential your voice had. 
A few soft claps are dying out as everyone starts cleaning up the room. You’re reaching down to grab your water bottle when you feel someone rushing up towards you. 
“Ahhh you did great babe but um two hot dudes will be walking through that door any second!” Stacy is whispering and all you could do was give her a confused look before the door opens. You squint trying to make out the two figures. 
“God you’re talented!” You hear the voice before you see the face. 
“Oh um, thank you so much.” You let out not really sure who you were speaking to. Once the two men get into view, your jaw drops slightly. 
“HOLY SHIT!” You yell a little too loudly. Slapping your hand over your mouth, you hear a very rich man laugh coming from a very good looking man. For some reason, whoever is in charge of the fate of the universe has blessed you with the presence of Ryan Reynalds and Hugh Jackaman. 
“Oh my god i’m so sorry, that’s literally so embarrassing. I just couldn’t see who you were at first.” 
“It’s okay sweetheart.” They both wear big smiles on their faces. 
“I’m y/n, it’s so nice to meet y’all, i’m a big fan!” You gush out, trying your best to refrain from fangirling. 
“We’re big fans as well. We were next door interviewing for the radio show, when we heard you were recording over here. We ran over here to try to catch you.” Ryan lets out. 
“No shit! That’s so cool. I really appreciate it.” Before the conversation could continue, Ryan is being called over by someone, leaving Hugh and yourself alone. 
“Hows Pedro, haven't seen him in awhile.” Hugh asks genuinely, giving you a small smile. It caught you off guard completely. You racked your brain trying to think of a time in your six month relationship that Pedro mentioned Hugh at all but nothing came up. 
“Oh I uh- I wouldn’t know. We aren’t together anymore.” Your voice is soft, trying not to make this any more awkward. 
“Shit. I’m so sorry, with the way he spoke about you, I thought you’d be together longer…” He trails off. 
“Yea me too.. he couldn’t handle the heat I guess.” You shrug. 
“Well, his loss yea?” He smiles trying to cheer you up. 
“Yea..” You say softly, your voice matching your smile. You take a moment to really look at him and he’s beyond handsome. He’s aged but in a way that makes you wish you were able to see the years go by with him. He was tall, almost towering over you, and his muscles were practically popping out of his shirt. 
The same guy that was walking to Ryan, gathers the three of you for a picture for the BBC socials. You stand in the middle, both men placing their arms behind either side of you. Hugh’s hand was placed on the small of your back. You looked up at him quickly, his face already smiling at the camera. You hear the camera go off a few times, causing you to look that way as well. Once the cameraman was satisfied, everyone gave their goodbyes and the room cleared out. 
-
Later that night you were scrolling through your phone when a text popped up from Stacy. 
Stacypoo <33: I told you. You couldn’t even go a week. ;) 
The text is accompanied by a screenshot of a notification stating that “‘thehughjackman’ started following you!”. You rushed to open instagram and went to your followers to search from his name. You stared at his page for a few minutes before following him back. 
While you had control over your own social media, someone handled all of your business related content. You went on your page to see that the picture that was taken at BBC earlier today was already posted with one comment standing out beyond the rest. 
Thehughjackman: Great meeting you sweetheart! :)
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Thank you for reading <3
part two
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i-like-media · 6 months ago
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I was wondering when they were going to play with the fact the Doctor is black now. 13 being faced with how people think of women was one of my favourite things in her era, so I was curious how they were going to treat his skin colour this season, if at all.
And honestly, Dot And Bubble exceeded all my expectations on the matter!
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What a lot of episodes about racism and bigotry do is coddle the viewer. They make clear early on "this is an episode about RACISM and why it's WRONG!" As if you've never heard of the concept before and don't know it's bad. The episode will often portray racism in an extreme sense and show the viewer the main characters are above that.
What Dot And Bubble did, for the entire episode, was letting the viewer figure it out on their own. There was no coddling, only racism as it silently existed. A perfectly pastel and white community with not a single person of colour and the only visible outlier being a goth white kid. And in this world, the first thing the character we follow did, was to block a black guy with a face of disgust.
The title screen rolls and you're left to rationalise it. Surely it was because he was not in her contact list/saying all kinds of mind blowing stuff... Right? Except when Ruby enters her feed and talks about it, she actually replies back... With an eye roll, but she replies... and keeps talking... and listening.
The episode continues, still not a single POC besides the Doctor. They reveal this is an exclusive place for rich people, and eventually the character in question even admits she thought the Doctor was a different person because "I thought you looked the same".
What this episode also does well, is portraying a character we wish to see change and find a better life behind that change. We see Lindy struggle to navigate the world without her bubble, calling herself stupid, and we genuinely hope she DOES learn to be better, even as you slowly pick up on what's been going on sofar. You are left to hope she'll thank him and realise the error of her ways, and maybe find a new drive to think for herself.
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And then she doesn't.
She stays in her bubble, doubling down on how she feels about the Doctor, how they're excited to be like their settler ancestors, and finally CLEARLY revealing to the viewers what's been off this whole time... and the scene asks: did YOU notice the signs? Did you see what went wrong along the way, or did you only notice just now when it's explicitly shown to you? And why do you think that is?
It challenges the perspective of the viewer and tells you to reflect on why you didn't see it coming, and that is so so powerful.
The Doctor's reaction to this scene..... 👌👌👌👌
His mouth is ajar, stunned beyond belief that after all he's done and all he can offer, the offer to literally save their lives, he is reduced to someone who's nothing more than the hue of his skin. He yells at them, telling them he doesn't care what they think of him because he's still the same doctor he's always been, and to still get rejected with a dirty look... Which hits extra hard when you remember how much the Doctor loves being himself. He LOVES being the Doctor again! And he walks with such a pep in his step, celebrating his existence and sharing it with all he meets... and then he tries to save some rich white kids from certain death.
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His performance in that moment was literally phenomenal. It's a narrative that's so powerful and so creative in its execution, my jaw was still on the floor throughout the credits.
This episode is definitely up there as one of my favourites sofar
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gloomwitchwrites · 4 months ago
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secret baby trope with tf141? 😌😌
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Anon! OH. MY. GOOOOOD. I love this. I love this. I love this. Secret baby? Yes, please. I adore this trope. I bow down to you for requesting this. I don't know who you are but I wish that I did. I can absolutely get behind a secret baby trope. I actually read a book recently that was a bit like that and I enjoyed it so so much.
I had an absolute blast putting this one together. Seriously. You totally indulged me here. Thank you!!
For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE
Task Force 141 x Female Reader
Content & Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): swearing, suggestive themes, stalking, possessive behavior, second chances, pregnancy / unplanned pregnancy, parenthood, reunions, light angst
Word Count: 2.3k
ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist
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Kyle "Gaz" Garrick
Kyle relaxes further into the couch. The air around him is slightly smoky.
He brings his vape to his lips and takes a hit. The action is calming, and that’s exactly what he wants. Kyle is rotting, and it feels fucking good.
Between missions, Kyle is always somewhere, but right not there is no reason for him to do anything. He can relax. He can watch reality television, eat himself to sickness, and wank off until his wrist hurts.
It’s bloody fucking brilliant.
Kyle isn’t attached. He has no kids. The only responsibility required of him is the one he has to himself. Which is why he’s splayed out on the couch in nothing but grey sweatpants and his vape. The television is on, and the volume is low. It’s mostly for background noise. Kyle isn’t really paying attention to it.
With a vape in one hand and his phone in the other, Kyle scrolls through his contacts. There are all the usual people there, but there are also a slew of general acquaintances and a long list of people he’s had it off with but never took anything further.
He pauses at one name, and old memories resurface.
They just happen upon him. Kyle doesn’t drag them up from the depths. They linger there, and Kyle remembers all the fun he had with you.
You were just a small fling. A few lengthy but deliciously good fucks that tops most of the sex he’s ever had in his life. There have been times since he last saw you—over a year now—that Kyle has thought about what could have been.
You were sweet. A potential partner. But Kyle didn’t follow through. He would regret it, but things can’t be taken back. There is no turning back the clock to change what has already occurred.
Kyle’s thumb hovers above the screen.
He shouldn’t. He really fucking shouldn’t.
But he does. Because why not?
Switching over apps, Kyle starts scrolling social media. He doesn’t usually give a shit about what’s happening in people’s lives, but he is curious about you. What are you up to? What are you doing? If you’re not attached, maybe he could call you up, rekindle what was once there.
You don’t have him blocked on anything—thank fuck—and Kyle delves into your socials, exploring your life. At first, the small infant in your arms is nothing to him, but then the tiny human keeps reappearing, and Kyle pauses.
Kyle scrolls a bit more. And stops.
Just three—no—four months ago, there are a slew of friends and family congratulating you on the birth of your son.
Your…son.
Kyle thinks back. Does the math in his head.
“Fuck,” he mutters, sitting up, gaze glued on the screen.
He scrolls back, studying every photo where your son is featured. Kyle’s heart slams in his chest. The features Kyle sees are features he sees every time he looks in the mirror.
“Fucking hell,” groans Kyle, the phone nearly slipping from his hands as he slumps back against the couch.
Why didn’t you say anything? Why didn’t you contact him?
The very thought of you not reaching out doesn’t sit well with him. It sits heavy in his stomach.
“Fuck,” says Kyle, switching over to his contacts.
He finds Simon’s number and taps the call button.
It rings on the other end, and Kyle doesn’t think that he’ll answer. But he does.
“Kyle,” comes Simon’s gruff voice.
Kyle sighs. “I need you to track someone down for me.”
John Price
John doesn’t like cutting off contact with people.
He likes to keep in touch, even if it’s just an acquaintance. But things happen, like a fucked phone with no way to retrieve contacts, and the only people he’s able to retrieve are those he sees on a regular basis.
Your number is gone. And John has no way to get it back.
Legally that is. He could try and find you in the system. What information he has is minimal, but then again, the two of you only had a one-night stand. He’s prone to it since he’s never in one place. Always moving around.
John would like to settle down one day, but his work is his life, and it just doesn’t seem possible to have a family and be consistent with them when he’s constantly called away.
He chews it over while sitting in his office. It’s late, and there isn’t anyone else here but him. Late nights like this are calming to him—a time to process away from the events of the day. John has your first name, where you might live, and a general idea of what your number is. But he isn’t certain, and it’s hardly enough to go on.
Sighing, deciding he’d rather find you than not, John turns on his computer. It takes a while to get the classified systems he has access to. No one tracks what he does on here, and no one will think twice if they do happen to look. John runs lots of names and faces through this system.
John waits. Ponders. Enters in different spellings and every possible clue to try and seek you out. With every new search, John begins to lose hope. He might be completely fucked. Completely at a loss.
If this doesn’t work, he might not ever see you again. And for some goddamn reason, that bothers him.
He tries one last time, expecting nothing, only for his heart to drop into his stomach,
“There you are,” he murmurs, leaning forward, gaze sweeping over your passport photo.
Grabbing a piece of paper, John jots down your phone number and current address. He also notes your top place of employment. You might not be there anymore, but that isn’t an issue. He has enough.
John shuts off his computer and grabs his coat. He’ll try to reach out first by phone and go from there.
“You have the wrong number, bud.”
The man’s southern drawl irks John. “You sure?”
“Yeah I’m fucking sure. Quit calling.”
John frowns as the line goes dead. The number on file isn’t recent.
“Fuck,” mutters John, running his hand through his hair.
This is getting him nowhere. The only other option is showing up at your home or place of employment, but he can’t do that unless he’s on scheduled leave. That’s months away.
And each month is fucking agony.
When John finally makes it to your front door, nervousness sets in. This is completely fucking weird. Who the fuck shows up at someone’s door months after a one-night stand? Him apparently.
But fuck it. He’s here.
Either he does this and things go great, or things go to shit and he doesn’t need to worry about it anymore.
John takes a deep breath, and then pounds on the door. He takes a step back, hands in his pockets as he waits. There is a stretch of silence, and then he hears it—the turn of a deadbolt.
The door swings open, and there you are, just as beautiful from when he first saw you. At first, your brow scrunches in confusion, and then your eyes widen.
“John,” you breathe.
He smiles, and then his gaze drops as your hand moves away from the doorknob to land on your stomach. Your belly is round. Protruding. You’re—oh shit.
“Is that—”
“Yours?”
Fuck.
John glances up into your eyes and swallows.
You shift on your feet, one hand resting against the doorframe.
“It is,” you confirm.
Simon "Ghost" Riley
Simon shouldn’t. Really—it’s fucked up. Wrong.
But he does it anyway because there is no fucking way he’s letting you go even if he has to watch from afar.
He’s done a lot of things he isn’t proud of, and losing you is near the top of the list. Not that he blames you for breaking it off. You had every right. Simon is always gone. Always away. And he rarely thought of you when he came home.
Communication can be a difficult thing for him. He knows this, and yet he couldn’t make an effort to do better with you. It wounds him. It does. Like a sharp blade to the gut.
But that is secondary now. Simon has dismissed it.
Sure, you’re not truly his now, but you’ll come back to him. He’ll make sure of it.
In the dark, Simon watches. Before him is a slew of screens and all of them show different angles of your home. Simon also has your phone tapped, and in another window, he can lurk through your messages and emails.
It’s where he first learned you were pregnant.
You know, and haven’t told him. Haven’t reached out in the slightest. Simon has to see all the results and tests come back via your email. He has to log into your medical portal to access specific things which is goddamn frustrating but he needs to know.
You are fucking pregnant. With his child.
It’s growing in your belly.
Even through the camera feed, Simon can see the swell of your stomach. He wants to be there, to stand beside you, and rest his hand against it. He wants to feel his son kick. Because you are carrying his son in your belly. Simon saw the results.
It’s fucking painful watching you like this.
He’s stayed away for a bit. Not engaging.
But you’ve broken it off before, and came back eventually.
Simon just needs an in again. All he has to do is figure it out, and then he can put away these fucking screens and surveillance. He can be by your side and be there when you give birth.
Leaning back in his chair, Simon observes every screen, his palm rubbing against his thigh as he considered his options.
He has to play this right.
He has to.
John "Soap" MacTavish
“Do you think you’ll ever find your woman again?”
Johnny grins behind his pint glass. “If she’s here,” he replies.
The beer is perfectly cold and goes down easily. It’s refreshing since it’s so bloody hot outside.
Johnny didn’t think he’d ever come back to the little seaside town. He came between missions—a way to relax and get away for a bit. With only a few hundred residents, it seemed like the perfect place. What he didn’t expect was to meet a woman that upended his fatigue and made him glow a little brighter.
He learned your name while exploring a local pub. You were a pretty thing. Caught Johnny’s eye immediately. With several beers fueling him, Johnny struck up a conversation, and you were receptive to his charm—melting like butter over fresh toast.
That evening, the two of you jumped from pub to pub, having a bloody good time. It was fucking magical. Afterward, the two of you ventured back to Johnny’s hotel room. But the two of you didn’t have sex. It wasn’t until the next morning that Johnny actually fucked you.
Johnny had presented himself, you slid right into his arms. The hotel bed was well-used. There wasn’t a moment after that Johnny didn’t have his dick inside you. He kept you full and screaming his name for an entire fucking week.
But when that week was up, the two of you parted ways. You gave Johnny your number, and for a couple months, you were consistent in your texts and phone calls. Then it all changed, and you began to contact him less frequently.
Eventually, you didn’t talk to Johnny at all.
He was hurt at first. He tried to reach out. But Johnny didn’t hear a thing—and he left you to it. Maybe someone else arrived into your life. Johnny can respect that even if he doesn’t exactly like it.
It sucked then. And it still pains him a bit now. Johnny liked you when you left—and if he’s being entirely honest with himself—he still fucking likes you.
Maybe you’ll be here. Maybe you won’t.
Kyle is with him this time. A guy’s trip. Price isn’t one for vacations, and Simon has his own shit going on.
“We could try that pub again,” suggests Kyle. “See if she’s there.”
Johnny shrugs. “Maybe.”
“Did she live here?” asks Kyle.
Johnny nods. “Aye. Sure did.”
Kyle bobs his head. “We’ll find her.”
The two of them sit outside a small pub. The air is laced with salt from the ocean, and the sun is out, shining bright. It’s hot, but it’s a beautiful fucking day.
Johnny hums in agreement, bringing his pint glass back to his lips. For a moment, Johnny glances away from Kyle, looking out across the road where people walk along the pavement. He frowns.
Is that?
No. Can’t be.
His focus becomes a tunnel, and all he can see is the woman across the road. It’s you. There is no doubt. He knows that body, that hair and smile. You haven’t changed all that much. Not really.
There is another woman with you—a friend that Johnny met briefly before you and him went off on your own.
But that isn’t what has Johnny’s attention.
You’ve turned, and Johnny can see a swell to your stomach. Your hand cradles it affectionately.
“What is it?” asks Kyle, but his voice is distant.
“That’s her,” murmurs Johnny, his pint glass lowering back to the table.
You don’t see him. You’re chatting with your friend, features animated. The curve in your stomach is fairly large, and a deep twisting in his stomach arises, moving toward his throat.
“Oh fuck,” says Johnny as Kyle shifts to look in the direction Johnny is staring.
“Is that?”
“It fucking is.”
“She’s fucking pregnant.”
Johnny swallows. “Aye.”
He doesn’t want to admit it, but it’s likely the fucking truth. The baby is probably his. No wonder you stopped talking to him. Maybe you thought it best to cut off contact when you found out.
But that doesn’t sit right with him either. If you had told him, Johnny could have been there for you sooner—not finding out like this.
You throw your head back and laugh, playfully hitting your friend’s arm as she says something funny. When you wipe at your face, clearing tears, your gaze shifts, and all the humor leaves your face.
You’re staring right at Johnny.
And he’s staring back.
taglist:
@km-ffluv @glitterypirateduck @tiredmetalenthusiast @miaraei @cherryofdeath
@enarien @saoirse06 @ferns-fics @unhinged-reader-36 @miss-mistinguett
@ravenpoe67 @tulipsun-flower @sageyxbabey @mudisgranapat @ninman82
@lulurubberduckie @leed-bbg @yawning-grave81 @azkza @nishim
@haven-1307 @voids-universe @itsberrydreemurstuff @spicyspicyliving @keiva1000
@littlemisscriesherselftosleep @greeniegreengreen @umno-yeah @blackhawkfanatic @talooolaaloolla
@sadlonelybagel @kadeeesworld @iloveslasher @sammysinger04 @dakotakazansky
@suhmie @jaggersinclair @jackrabbitem @lxblm @beebeechaos
@no-oneelsebutnsu @kidd3ath @certainlygay @thewulf @lovely-ateez
@whisperwispxx @gingergirl06 @eternallyvenus @smileykiddie08 @arrozyfrijoles23
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bweirdart · 1 year ago
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EVENT OVER! THANKS EVERYONE WHO JOINED IN U ALL DID AN AMAZING JOB <3 SEE YOU AGAIN NEXT YEAR IN MARCH FOR #mARTch OR NEXT OCTOBER (2024) FOR A NEW SET OF PROMPTS!!!!!
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OC-TOBER 2023 PROMPTS!!
general tag: #oc-tober / my prompts: #bweirdOCtober
F.A.Q:
Do I have to draw EVERY DAY?
NO! I highly encourage skipping as many days as you need to avoid burnout! There are 10 main days in the event (marked with a ⭐ star) that you can focus on if you don't feel up to doing every day, or you can choose your own adventure and just do the prompts you personally like!
Do I have to DRAW?
NO! You can also write fanfiction snippets, repost older art that fits the theme, tweet headcanons/backstory, roleplay in-character as your oc ... genuinely anything that fits the theme is OK!!
Can I start early?
YES! I understand some people work at a slower pace and might need a head start! So long as you wait until October to post it, you can start working as early as you need!
I missed the start of the event .. do I have to catch up?
NO! Please don't stress about days you missed, you're allowed to just skip to the current prompt!
RULES:
1. MAKE FRIENDS! The community is the best part of this event .. please try to follow new people, ask questions about ocs you like, compliment people's styles, ask friends to create with you, etc!
2. TAKE IT EASY! Skip a day if you're tired, busy or just not interested in the prompt. You don't have to catch up on it later. This is supposed to be fun, not work!
3. BE KIND! Please think about the people around you - don't give people unwarranted harsh criticism, content warn for themes/imagery in your work that could trigger someone, don't create anything hateful, etc
MORE:
text version / tips and ideas on bweird.art or below ↓
star = main prompts | no star = optional
INTRO WEEK
1: FAVE OC ⭐
-Which of your characters is your favourite right now?
2: NEW OC
-Who is your newest OC?
-Design a new OC right now
3: OLD OC ⭐
-Do you remember the first OC you ever made?
-Is there an OC you haven't drawn in a long time?
4: RE-DESIGN
-An OC who has changed a lot over the years
-Take an old OC and update their design right now
 
BACKSTORY WEEK
5: RELATIONSHIPS ⭐
-Who is important to your OC?
-Do they have a partner?
-Do they have a best friend?
-Are they close to their family?
6: SYMBOL
-What imagery do you associate with your oc?
-Are there any colours, flowers, animals or concepts that symbolize them?
7: PERSONALITY ⭐
-How does your OC behave?
-What are their positive traits?
-What are their negative traits?
-Are they extroverted or introverted?
8: PAST
-What was your OC like as a child?
-Where did they grow up?
-Are there any significant moments from their past that shaped who they are?
9: FUTURE ⭐
-Does your OC have a goal they're working towards?
-What will your OC look like when they get older
-Do you have a planned ending for their story?
PALETTE WEEK
10: pumpkin patch palette
#251604 #1E3807 #5B5E1A #A2A657 #EBA00F #F3ECCC
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11: hot cocoa palette
#520B13 #BB382E #E27E6D #88392C #AF5D40 #E1AFA4
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12: midnight zone palette
#000007 #000049 #183885 #004D4F #0E8788 #FFF1C0
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13: peachy palette
#DE6450 #DB9171 #FFC1AE #FEE1AD #FFF2E0 #D9D8D8
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14: haunted house palette
#552506 #6E25AA #ED690B #F925A0 #8F8BA7 #A6C1AA
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FUN + GAMES WEEK
15: MEME ⭐
-Post memes that remind you of your OC
-Draw your OC as a meme
-Fill out a character meme (classic deviantart style)
16: FOOD
-What is your OC's favourite food?
-What is their least favourite?
-Can they cook?
17: EYES-CLOSED ⭐
-Draw your OC with your eyes closed! No cheating!
-Write a scene without looking at the keyboard! Keep the typos in!
18: SWAP
-Swap the style or aesthetic of two of your OCs
-Species or gender swap AU
-Invert an OC's colour scheme
19: INSPIRATION ⭐
-Is your OC inspired by any pre-existing characters?
-Are there any particular songs/lyrics that inspired something about one of your OCs
-Do you have a dedicated pinterest moodboard for your character?
20: INVENTORY
-What does your OC carry around with them on a daily basis?
-Are there any objects that have sentimental value for them?
-Loot drop for your DnD OC
 
FRIENDS WEEK
21-25:
There's no specific daily prompts for this week, but here are some ideas you can try ...
-Art trades with friends who are doing the event with you
-Your OC interacting with a friend's OC
-Gift art for someone whose OCs you like
-Work together and collaborate on something with a friend
-Roleplay an OC scene together with someone
 
HALLOWEEN WEEK
26: FEAR ⭐
-What is your OC scared of?
-Draw one of your OCs trying to scare the others
27: MONSTER
-Do you have any monster OCs? (eg: vampires, werewolves, creatures, ghosts...)
-Draw a human OC as a monster
-Design a new monster
28: TRICK
-Play a trick on an OC
-Do you have an OC who would play tricks on people?
29: TREAT
-What is your OC's favourite halloween candy?
-Give an OC a special treat to make up for yesterday's trick
30: MAGIC
-Do any of your characters have magical powers?
-Give an OC a magical or cursed artifact
-Create a magic-using OC like a witch or wizard
27: COSTUME ⭐
-What is your OC dressing as for halloween?
6K notes · View notes
hamilando · 3 months ago
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ੈ✩ onlysainz (smau) ੈ✩
pairing :carlos sainz x fem reader ( piastri best friend )
summary : the admin chooses red
fc: Thylane Léna-Rose Loubry Blondeau
a/n : This is the series end, I know it was a short one , I might make a prologue though ! it was requested anonymously, thank you for requesting it 🫶🏻
·:。・゚゚・ ✩ ・゚ ・゚·:。・゚゚・ ・゚·:。・゚゚・ ✩ ・゚ ・゚·:。・゚゚・・゚·:。・゚゚・ ✩ ・゚ ・゚·:。・゚゚
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liked by norizz, ospastry, chillijr and 137 others
mcynburger why are all men in my life clean shaved ?
view comments
ospastry what now
mcynburger NO, YOU LOOK NICE, YOU DONT GROW ONE
mcynburger Wait, I forgot, YOU CANT EVEN GROW ONE 🫶🏻
norizz 👀
mcynburger PLEASE BET THE GOATEE BACK
norizz oh come on
mcynburger I will set you up with max
norizz done, threw out my razor
max1 excuse me what !?
max1 I AM LOYAL
mcynburger just like you are to red bull 💪🏻
georgey if toto begged me to join like that -
max1 you don’t have 3 wdc now, do you ?
hamsandwich you say that in front of me ?
chillijr hermosa? you like my beard ?
mcynburger LIKE!? LOVE 🧡
mcynburger ask oscar how much love it on you
lordperceval or me
alexmieux I know the sexual fantasies as well
mcynburger ALEXANDRA SAINT MIEUX
mcynburger Well, I won’t say no THE CARLOS SAINZ
albono don’t let love distract you from your target
lilyhye 💀
mcynburger Mate, go have some pad-thai
chillijr wait, if I ask you out you won’t say no?
mcynburger I would be mad if I do
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liked by chillijr, ospastry, alexmieux, max1 and 167 others
mcynburger onlyfans ❌ onlysainz ✅
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ospastry WHY IS THERE SO MUCH NAKEDNESS
ospastry y'all so nasty
mcynburger it was hot 🔥
norizz I think I just stumbled on pornhub-
mcynburger THIS IS A CHILD FRIENDLY ACCOUNT
norizz SAYS THE LADY POSTING NAKED SELFIES
lordperceval this is literally my daily view
lordperceval I pray I become Carlos’ boyfriend in next lifetime
alexmieux stay at his house only then
alexmieux also, did you do the dishes ?
lordperceval I could eat off you …?
norizz Oh Lord, this is not your OF
chillijr I look good 👍🏻
mcynburger you always do 🥺
max1 and I thought it was not obvious they love each other
lordperceval you both fucked on first date
mcynburger not the first time 🤭
alexmieux COME TO GC LIKE RIGHT NOW !?
alexmieux YOU GET THAT SMALL ASS RIGHT HERE
chillijr it's not small -
lilyhye if you want the girl gc to approve, stay shut carlos
chillijr it’s not like you guys are going tell y/n to break up
carmenvroom where tf is she !?
chillijr in my bed, sleeping 😴
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liked by user1, user2, user3 and 2,754,389 others
mclaren a well deserved podium for the constructors 🧡💪🏻 congratulations @ scuderiaferrari
view comments
user1 PAPAYA FAMILY
user2 why do I feel admin sneaked someone ?
user3 admin fangirling over Ferrari?
user4 admin, Spanish or French 🗿
mclaren Spanish any day 😗
user5 admin is simping over a certain someone
mclaren ssh 🤫 we don't let it go out.
user6 I think the admin has gained another bother 🙂‍↕️
mclaren * blocked *
user7 CHAT, ADMIN IS LETTING PERSONAL FEELINGS SHOW
user8 admin forgetting this is the main account
user9 I swear I only follow mclaren for the admin content
user10 admin right tho, who would not simp over Carlos !?
landonorris me
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liked by chillijr, alexmieux, lordperceval and 160 others
mcynburger one red mcfreak please 🔥🎸
view comments
ospastry I see dead people..
ospastry YOU BETRAYED ME
ospastry WHERE IS THE TROPHY !? SHE GOES RUNNING TO HIM
ospastry SOMEBODY THAT I USED TO KNOW
ospastry You were my sun, you were my earth
norizz you just googled that -
norizz the font
ospastry oh-
hamsandwich did soemthing happen between you and lily ?
ospastry NO, I WOULD HAVE DIED IF IT DID
ospastry my best friend, my diaper mate, my classmate, the girl who introduced me to the love of my life just abandoned for some red suit guy
mcynburger and then Lily left me for a idiot like you ?
ospastry I AM YOUR BESTFRIEND !
chillijr mi amor ❤️
mcynburger 🥺
ospastry not the Spanish nicknames 🥴
norizz we are telling zac, you traitor
mclaren We do not have any problem with our staff having their respective personal lives - Zak
norizz WAIT- ALL THIS TIME, THE OFFICIAL ACCOUNT FOLLOWS YOU ?
mcynburger duh, it’s my account technically
norizz they heard me bitch?
mcynburger duh, why do you think your salary reduced
norizz I LOVE MCLAREN 🧡
mcynburger @ ospastry dw, I will steal Ferrari strategies and give to you
ospastry Ferrari strategies? Then I can as very much retire with just one win
lordperceval it’s @ alonsomango we need to look out for
strollinginpark or my rich dad issues ?
max1 rich dad perks having to steal Adrian
max1 my car has become Mercedes 2.0
georgey meet you in the track you dutchman
lilyhye can you stop discussing cars while appreciating Carlos and y/n?
liked by mcynburger
alexmieux WE ARE FERRARI WAGSSS
alexmieux LESSGO
alexmieux WE LOOK SO GOOD IN THE MIDDLE PIC
mcynburger Y/n x Alex = best 🫶🏻
taglist : @sainzzreputaticn @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @goldenmclaren
@taliya8346282844eliviahdgdajs @formula1-motogpfan @npcmia @hc-dutch
@nuccibeboo2 @amberjazmyn @nataylia-f1 @fastfactory @sltwins @hoeforlifee
@scarletwidow3000 @kissesandmartinis @d3kstar @mayusaatma @willowsnook
@forza-dolce @velentine @runs-with-sciss0rs @unknownmystery22
@technicallypleaseanttree @lolzzzzzzzzzz @michelleyw81 @awritingtree @tellybearryyyy
692 notes · View notes
marigoos · 6 days ago
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Updated scam alert
So, as some of you guys know, I've received an ask from a known scammer a few weeks ago. Since I found their main post reblogged by 300 or so people, thinking they were helping a palestinian diabetic lady, I made a pinned post (this one) and warned everyone.
At some point this week, that account has been banned (or deleted), to my great dismay (the best vaccine against this kind of thing is letting victims know, since these scammers will just make new accounts); however, I found out that one of the names used in one of the many of his PayPal accounts has also been used in (as of today, 11/23) gladysconnoisseurpost thanks to this other post!
I already added that new piece of info in my old pinned (the one linked above in pink), and just today I received this ask on anon - worded very similarly to this other one that I got (off anon!) immediately after I called him out the first time.
So, in short: it's clear it's the same person again, there are sources to prove my point in the first link, there's one more here (el-shab-hussein saying it's a scam), thus I'm resuming my little hobby here.
IF YOU'VE BEEN MENTIONED IN THE REPLIES HERE:
-read the post in the first link. I'm basically doing the same thing, just with another post since it's about a different account and it could cause confusion
-I'd like you all to either delete your reblog of this scammer's post or edit it to include a warning to your followers
-if you're having a hard time tracking your reblog down (some date back to August), let me know and I'll help
-some of you reblogged it more than once, try to get them all (I tried to take note of those who did, if you have any doubts let me know)
-I did recognize some of your names from the last time - I'm sure you're all more knowledgeable now, it's just that it's the same scammer that contacted you multiple times, and I found an older instance. It's unlikely you falled for it once more after I warned you, so no worries. Still! Keeping up your reblog with no warning helps making it look more legitimate, so if you would kindly do me a favour and delete/edit this one too 🙏
-usual disclaimer that I transcribed all urls manually and I may have gotten something wrong. Hmu if you think I made a mistake, so I can contact the right person (or prove that it was in fact you)
-and again, no worries. You're all doing a good thing, you're not at fault for this piece of shit taking advantage of your good heart. Just be more wary next time :*
-I'm still gonna check for name changes, both on Tumblr and Paypal. Most recent on top
Oh, and let's not forget my List of Actually Verified Palestinian Fundraisers Who Contacted Me. Gotta uplift their voices too
437 notes · View notes
sailorrhansol · 3 months ago
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Storm Breaker | (l.jh)
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❀ Pairing: Jaeger Pilot!Lee Jihoon x Jaeger Pilot! f.reader  
❀ Summary: It’s a known fact Lee Jihoon is one of the best pilots the jaeger Program has. The only problem? He can’t keep a co-pilot to save his life. He thinks you’ll just be another Ranger in the rotation, but you are an unpleasant surprise. 
❀ Word Count: 23,373
❀ Genre: Pacific Rim AU, Forced Proximity, Annoyed to Lovers
❀ Type: Smut, Angst
❀ Rating: 18+ Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging in and reading this content. It contains explicit content and any minors discovered reading or engaging with this work will be blocked immediately.
❀ Warnings: Jihoon is a bit of an asshole, action/fighting scenes, brief descriptions of blood, mentions of offscreen deaths, brief mentions of sick parents, brief mention of having no family, sexual tension, explicit language, A Lot of Pacific Rim Techincal Terms But They’re Explained, terrible humor, a hint of angst, brief depictions of Jihoon being insecure about his childhood, sexually explicit content including nipple play, biting, a total of one (1) spank, oral (f. receiving), the slightest hint of voyeurism mentioned, unprotected sex (don’t do this), multiple orgasms, a lot of spit and cum, cum eating, vaginal fingering, a lot of biting, Jihoon is emotionally constipated and then lets it all out lmfaoooo
❀ A/N: HERE SHE IS. This story takes place in the Pacific Rim universe but you definitely do not have to watch the movie to enjoy it - I’m pretty sure I explain everything in terms of how it works but if something is confusing, please tell me and I will adjust! I hope you enjoy this Jihoon who has been the apple of my eye for like almost three months now. STAY TUNED FOR MY SECOND FIC IN THIS UNIVERSE SHARING CHAN AND WYLIE'S STORY :)
❀ A/N 2: SPECIAL THANKS TO @daechwitatamic for not only collaborating with me on our little corner of the internet, but beta reading this giant piece and constantly motivating me while writing it. I could not be anywhere without you I love u 
❀ Also in this Universe: Cherry Bomb by @daechwitatamic
❀ Disclaimer: Disclaimer: All members of Seventeen are faces and name claims for stories. Any scenarios or representations of the people and places mentioned in works are not representative of real-life scenarios. Moreover, none of my works accurately reflect, represent or take a stance on the nuances of Korean culture, cities, people etc. Seventeen members are not Seventeen culturally, intellectually, physically, or representationally in my stories, and should be considered name and face stand-ins for made up characters.
Main Masterlist ❀ Tag List Request Form ❀ Ask ❀
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Jihoon doesn’t flinch when Xander throws his helmet against the wall. The crash is loud, but the reinforced material doesn’t crack under the force of the concrete. It clatters to the floor while Jihoon tucks his helmet under his right arm. Sweat drips down the side of his neck and down his back, but he can’t get to it while in his Drivesuit. 
Just add it to his list of inconveniences.  
Everyone in the room freezes as Xander storms toward the command center and right for the Marshall in charge, his steps thunderous against the metal floor. Instead of following him, Jihoon leans against the doorframe, watching the way his co-pilot rages, imagining steam coming out of his ears. 
“I can’t fucking pilot with him,” Xander screams, stabbing an accusatory finger in Jihoon’s direction. “I refuse to do it. Reassign me.” 
Eyes drift toward Jihoon. He ignores them, watching as Xander stops at the command post where both the Marshall and the LOCCENT Mission Controller who just walked them through their kaiju fight stand. Both of them stare at Xander, who is red in the face, chest heaving. 
It’s a bit of an overreaction, especially for a team who just dispatched a Category Four kaiju. But it doesn’t matter. Xander isn’t Jihoon’s first co-pilot and he won’t be his last. They rarely last long, a cycle of Rangers who cannot stand to work with him for more than a few fights. Jihoon examines the scratches on his suit, thinking that he needs to get it buffed while the Marshall deliberates how to answer Xander’s demands. 
“Ranger-” 
Xander cuts off the Marshall. Bold, if you ask Jihoon. “I’ll leave the fucking program if that’s what I have to do. I won’t pilot with him anymore, I don’t care that we can drift. He won’t trust me, he won’t give up the reins and he refuses to let me in. He’s arrogant and pig headed!”
“Pig headed,” Jihoon mutters to himself. “That’s new.” 
The Marshall sighs heavily, eyes drifting toward Jihoon, who is still leaning against the doorframe. He lifts a single shoulder in a shrug, unsure what the Marshall expected. Pinching the bridge of his nose, the Marshall asks Xander to follow him, gesturing toward the door at the back of the command center that leads into offices. 
Silence blankets the room at their departure. At least, as silent as it can get in the jaeger hub. The beeping of machinery and radar is a constant sound under the hum of machinery and the awkward cough of one of the workers in the room. Jihoon raises his brows as if to ask someone to say something. No one does and he nods, dismissing himself. 
Laughter trails up the stairs followed by loud steps. He looks down to see Chan and Wylie coming up the stairwell, cheeks flushed and hairlines sweaty from their battle with Dreadfury only minutes earlier. Their team had the assist on the kill, and though they hadn’t landed the final blow, their constant offense had given Jihoon and his partner the time they needed to figure out how to move in. 
Chan sees Jihoon and raises a questioning brow, pausing in the stairs. “Lose your co-pilot?” he asks, looking Jihoon up and down. 
“How’d you guess?” 
“Standard,” Chan and Wylie say at the same time. 
They do that a lot, so in sync that despite the fact that they’re two different people, sometimes Jihoon feels like he’s talking to one. Wylie is a little shorter than Chan, but just as furious in personality and attitude. She leans against Chan, cocking her head to the side. It’s not a conscious movement but an instinct, her body naturally attaching to her co-pilot’s. Jihoon knows that level of closeness well. 
“Think they’ll just finally get rid of you?”
“Nope.” 
“Standard,” they both say in unison again. It’s Chan who says, “Must be nice to get away with murder, Woozi.” He continues up the stairs, clapping Jihoon on the shoulder as he goes. Wylie trails behind him, shooting Jihoon a grin. “One day you’re gonna end up on your ass.” 
“That’s fine. You’ll both take me in, right?” 
Both of their voices meld as they howl in laughter, passing him and going into the command center, yelling “Nope!” 
Despite their teasing, Jihoon smiles. He’s known the pair for years and despite their ability to get under his skin, he’s fond of them. They’re good jaeger pilots, scrappy as they come and vicious in the field. Unlike Jihoon, they’ve piloted their jaeger together from the start, syncing like twin flames and sticking to one another. 
It helps that they grew up together, of course. And that they’re in a relationship, one heart, one soul. 
Sighing, Jihoon jogs down the rest of the stairs, tired and sore. He needs a shower, food and a fucking nap. He and Xander had been pulling extra shifts, the kaiju activity having increased with the bad weather. He suspects it was also in an attempt to get Jihoon to bond with Xander more and get him to open up, but that hadn’t happened.
That’s the problem with piloting with Jihoon. The more time people spend with him, the less they can stomach the way he resists them in the mental bridge that connects co-pilots. It isn’t that he’s afraid for them to see what’s in his head - they haven’t earned a right to his privacy.
Privacy is important to him. 
Murmurs ripple through the cafeteria as he enters, rolling his head to the side to try and workout the kink that is formed there. He glances around and fights the urge to roll his eyes. Word spreads fast when you’re secluded in the Shatterdome with nothing but fucking ocean and giant monsters around you. 
As usual, he ignores the stares and whispering. He catches Soonyoung’s eye from afar and shrugs when his friend gives him a questioning glance, earning an eye roll. Not for the first time, Jihoon finds himself wondering why someone like Soonyoung or Wonwoo can’t be his partner. 
Drift compatibility. 
He knows that’s the answer, but he’ll never stop wishing that pairing jaeger pilots together was a little easier. So many factors go into making people drift compatible and yet he’s yet to find a partner he can tolerate - or tolerate him in return. If it were as easy as picking his friends, he’d have settled with someone long ago. 
Brushing away the thought, he heads to his room. It doesn’t matter what he wants. If wishes were horses, everyone would be a rider. He’s pretty sure that one of his former co-pilots had said that - in regard to Jihoon being impossible to work with, of course. 
The dark and quiet of his room brings the peace Jihoon craves. He feels the tension melt from his shoulders. He suddenly realizes how tired he is, feeling like parchment stretched too thin over a rough surface. He peels himself out of his clothes methodically, welcoming the chill of the room against his sweaty skin. 
He trails to the shower, tossing his clothes in the hamper as he does. Leaving the lights on so it’s only the dull orange glow over his bed, he turns on the shower as hot as it will go. It takes a second, but soon steam is filling the room, choking him as he slides under the stream of water, sighing as the heat of it burns away any lingering frustration for the day. 
Tomorrow, he’ll have a new partner. It’s a simple fact and a routine he is familiar with. That’s fine with him - they can keep assigning people to him until they find someone competent. Jihoon isn’t going anywhere. 
He has nowhere else to go anyway. 
-
“I need you to do me a favor,” Kira says before you can finish stepping out of the jaeger. The Marshall of the Sydney Shatterdome looks deadly serious. You scoff under the helmet, reaching up to unclasp it and shuck it off. Fresh air fills your lungs. It’s hot and tastes like metal in the jaeger bay, but it’s familiar. “And I need an answer quickly.”
“Ever heard of foreplay?” you grunt, helping Maya out of the giant mech behind you. She shoots you a thankful grin, taking off her helmet. Her face is flushed pink, hairline sweaty. “You really just dive in dry, huh?” 
“You know my cousin is a Marshall of a Shatterdome overseas?” 
You pause. “Yeah.” 
“They’re asking for a skilled pilot to pair with one of their Rangers. They sent over the drift profile and you’re the only pilot we have that’s a match.” You frown and she holds out a hand to stop your protest, a crease in her mouth. “Just look over the report and the profile I sent you, alright?” 
“I mean, my answer is no. I’m fine here.”
“You are. You’re one of our best teams,” Kira says earnestly, her dark eyes flicking between you and Maya. “But respectfully, your value is needed elsewhere. There isn’t enough activity here to keep a veteran of your status on shift, Blue.”
You feel a flicker of uncertainty. Rarely does Kira use your nickname. It’s too familiar for a military commander of her status, and though you’ve considered her a friend for years, she never uses your nickname on shift. Unless she really needs something from you.  
Licking your lips, you hesitate to answer. You don’t want to say she’s right about your skillset and risk insulting your coworkers and other pilots in the jaeger Program, but it’s an accurate statement. The Shatterdome you report to is old - one of the first built in the beginning. But kaiju activity is mostly unpredictable, shifting with the tides. You barely get them once a month anymore, and there are too many pilots who need the practice.
You don’t. 
You glance at Maya and she offers a soft smile. “Hey, I didn’t think you’d be my co-pilot forever. Hoped, maybe. But I didn't expect it.”
“Oh come on, I’m with you for life, Maya.” 
“Romantic.” Maya’s gaze softens. “Marshall has a point, though. We’re a little… slow here.” 
It makes a pang go through your heart. Maya has been your co-pilot since your mother passed away, and though you didn’t go through the Ranger training program with her, she’s the perfect balance to you. You like having her around, and the thought of changing pilots just because someone wants your experience is… unideal. 
Sensing your unease, Maya reaches out and touches your forearm, squeezing over the metal of your Drivesuit. Her smile is soft. Knowing. Like she knew that being in the drift with you wasn’t forever, and she’s already saying bye. 
“Look,” Kira sighs, bringing your attention back to her. “My cousin really needs a skilled pilot and someone who is a leader and isn’t afraid of working with veteran pilots. They get more activity, and they need someone sharp. Skilled. Strong.” 
“I mean, I’ll look over the papers.” 
“Thank you.” She steps away. “I need to know by the end of the day, though.”
“Jesus Christ, Marshall. End of the day is in like two hours.”
Her smile is firm. “I know.” 
Waving her off, you leave your jaeger behind, Maya trailing after you. She peppers you with encouragement as you walk, steps heavy on the metal catwalk. You don’t respond right away, thoughts trying to catch up with being thrown an offer immediately after slamming a monster back into the depth of the ocean just minutes ago. 
You don’t have to ask why you. Drift compatibility alone is important enough to move jaeger pilots around the world from Shatterdome to Shatterdome in order to make the best pairs possible. There aren’t a ton of pilots - especially among the younger ones - at your base that are compatible with you.
Stubborn, Kira had always said. Finding an equally dominant co-pilot that meshes with you is difficult. You suspect that if you were not extremely talented at what you do and a veteran at your base, they might have moved you to an advisory position a long time ago.
Advising is not for you, though. The grind of metal and the heat of the fight is where you thrive, letting your mind go empty, entirely driven by instinct. Instinct was the reason you were so good at fighting kaiju. Your mom had always said you had the instinct of a warrior, and after putting down as many monsters to protect humanity’s coasts, you had to agree. 
Maya immediately goes to the shower once you reach your shared room. You dive onto the bottom bunk, snatching the tablet sitting on your night stand. Your eyes squint from the brightness, sensitive in the dim room. Clicking through your emails, you find the reporting and profile from Kira and open it, information unfurling before you. 
“Huh,” You muse, raising your brows as Lee Jihoon appears on your screen. “I know your name.” 
His profile is impeccable - and so is his skill. Chewing on your lip, you throw yourself onto your cot and flip through all of the materials provided on your potential co-pilot. Veteran Ranger. Highly skilled in combat. Top of his class in the academy. 
Clicking on the attachments, you watch the attached videos. There’s clips from his fights in and out of the suit. You find yourself hypnotized by his fighting style. There is a beauty to it, but it’s absolutely lethal. Efficient. There are no extra flourishes, no showmanship. Lee Jihoon fights to kill. 
“So why do you need me?” you mutter to yourself, pulling up his past partners. The list is extensive, stretching back to multiple co-pilots over weeks at a time. “Jesus christ. You do not play nice.”
He must not, at least. Half of the pilots assigned to him are only barely compatible. You know it takes more than just matching fight styles, but based on the history glowing at you from the screen, Jihoon’s Marshall was doing anything they could to keep him, even if it meant pairing him with someone who was scoring as low as 54% compatible. 
Pulling up your side-by-side analysis, you whistle. 98% was a good fucking number. You’d only ever had 90% with your mom, and she was genetically linked to you. Still, with as many partners as Jihoon has had in the past year alone, you don’t know that it’s worth it, even if his base has more kaiju activity and looks to be in need of veteran fighters.
Sighing, you close the tablet and throw it on the pillow. Resting your head against the metal wall, you close your eyes, thinking. You’re happy where you’re at. You’re a leader here, and you like Maya as your partner. She’s young and eager to learn - and you like your jaeger. Shadow Stalker is a good suit, though a little older. 
Biting your lip, you grab the tablet again, opening the jaeger details on Jihoon’s profile. Newer model. Built for endurance. Equipped with multiple blades, suited for pilots who prefer sword-style fighting. She’s painted gray-blue like the deepest part of a storm - blue like your mother’s first jaeger, which makes you grin. 
Storm Breaker. It’s a good name for a jaeger and it matches the profile. She’s built to withstand the brutal waves of the deep ocean and the onslaught of a high-category kaiju. Your interest is piqued, curious about Storm Breaker and her brutal pilot. 
Closing the tablet again, you stare into the distance, thinking. “What’s your deal, Lee Jihoon?” 
-
Jihoon hates sparring with Chan almost as much as he hates sparring with Wylie. Chan doesn’t scratch at Jihoon like a feral cat like Wylie might, but he does bite, which is exactly what he does when he can’t get out of Jihoon’s hold. 
“You fucker,” Jihoon hisses, letting him go. Chan slips out of Jihoon’s grasp and rolls to his feet a few feet away, crouched low and ready to go again. Despite years of being a jaeger pilot, Chan nor his co-pilot have fallen out of their scrapy upbringings, fighting like two street orphans. “What, are you going to bite a kaiju if you can?” 
“Of course not. I just don’t like losing to you.”
“Too bad.” Jihoon straightens and lifts his fists, planting his feet firmly. Sweat slicks the back of his neck, wispy pieces of hair escaping his hair tie and sticking to damp skin. “No more biting.” 
“No promises.” 
Somewhere behind him, Jihoon hears Minghao shriek. “She bit me!”
Scratch that. Maybe Wylie does bite. 
Chan comes at Jihoon again. He’s a good fighter and he’s ruthless. It’s one of Jihoon’s favorite things about him. But there’s always an opening, always a moment between fluid movements that reveals itself that Jihoon can take advantage of. 
He does exactly that, going on the defense, watching and waiting for the moment. When it reveals itself, Jihoon strikes lightning fast, catching Chan in the chest hard and taking him down to the ground. Jihoon feels the wind leave Chan’s lungs as he coughs hard, head smacking the mat. 
Behind them, Jihoon hears the collective wince. Chan is dazed for a second, groaning underneath Jihoon’s hand pressed to his chest. He can feel the hammering of Chan’s heart, a little faster than his own. When it’s clear Chan isn’t going to claw at him, Jihoon stands and offers him a hand.
With a heaving sigh, Chan takes it. Jihoon claps him on the back, grinning as Chan tries to catch his breath, rubbing the back of his head. “That hurt.”
“Oops.” Chan looks over Jihoon’s shoulder and grins, causing him to turn around and follow the younger’s gaze. Wylie sweeps her feet under Mingho’s, knocking him to the mat. She pounces like a creature from hell before he can react, pinning him down. “Well, at least one of us didn’t get our ass beat today.” 
“Stop biting, Dino,” Jihoon says as they trail off the mat, a warning. Chan has the decency to look chagrined, bowing slightly to his superior. Jihoon adores the kid, but he will not serve as a chew toy. 
Grabbing a water, Jihoon sits down on the floor with Seungkwan, Soonyoung and Seokmin as Junhui and Minghao trade places. Minghao is nursing a scratch on his neck from Wylie’s nails, muttering about her being a demon straight from hell as he sits. Wylie gives her new opponent a wicked grin, taking her place on the mat and beckoning Junhui toward her. Jihoon shakes his head, gulping down water and leaning back on his hands. 
“Fresh blood,” Soonyoung notes, gesturing toward the training room entrance as the Marshall leads a group of people in. “They’re holding trials for the two new mark fives tomorrow. Wanna go?” 
“No.” 
Soonyoung laughs. “Come on, they might be looking for another partner for you too.”
“Don’t care.” 
“You can’t keep going through partners, man.”
Jihoon doesn’t react, eyes scanning the group of cadets. They all look fresh-faced and in awe as they’re led around the mats, wide eyes glued to the sparring pilots as they go. His eyes settle on you, though, pausing. 
You don’t have the same awestruck wonder as the other cadets, trailing behind them as your eyes scan the structure, the fighters and the equipment around you. Calculating. Critical. You’re a little older than the other cadets too - not in looks but in aura, chin lifted, gaze sharp. Experienced. 
Soonyoung follows Jihoon’s line of sight and straightens. “Woah. Who is that?” 
“My new drift partner,” Seokmin sighs dreamily. Soonyoung and Seungkwan smack him at the same time, offended. They’re one of the few triple pilot groups, operating a massive piece of machinery made for slaughtering and hammering down on high-grade kaiju. “What? Look at her!” 
“You shouldn’t fuck your co-pilot,” Seungkwan mutters. “Look what happened to Seungcheol and Cherry. She’s still at that training facility in Alaska. Didn’t come back after their drift glitched.” 
A collective hum goes through them. All of them recall that situation, but no one says a thing. The weight of Cherry’s absence sits heavy on them - even Jihoon misses her a little. 
“I don’t know,” Soonyoung notes cryptically, eyeing Wylie. She’s managed to get Junhui off his feet, slamming him down with a rattle of mat and springs, pinning him with a savage growl. Wylie Coyote indeed, Jihoon thinks, smirking. “Seems to work for Wylie just fine. God, look at Chan, he literally has heart eyes. Disgusting.” 
It’s true. The pilot in question sits at the edge of the mat, elbows resting on top of his knees as he watches his girlfriend with his mouth open, lips upturned a little. His eyes are dazed, focused on Wylie as she holds onto a thrashing Junhui. There’s so much love in his gaze that Jihoon averts his eyes, worried he’s observing something sacred and private.  
“Not everyone is like them,” Seungkwan shoots back. “They share a brain cell.” 
“We’re literally drift partners. We basically do the same thing.” 
“And yet I don’t want to fuck you, Hoshi.” 
Soonyoung cocks his head to the side. “You know, that brings up a valid question-”
“No,” the other three say at the same time, cutting him off before he can get going. 
Still, Seungkwan’s point is valid. The drift is something that is so intimate that it isn’t uncommon for copilots to have a romance or some sort of tension. The neural handshake makes you become one, unable to hide anything. It is inviting someone else into your head to see everything you see, everything you have seen. Memories, feelings, thoughts - nothing is yours anymore. 
Jihoon hides it all from his co-pilots. He knows he’s not supposed to - openness and being honest and true with your partner makes for a better drift. But the intimacy of the connection makes him uncomfortable, and he’s not ready for anyone to see him - really see him. 
So he hides in the drift. Knows how to bring nothing to it, to give only the parts of himself he has to in order for his partner to fight alongside him. Jihoon gives nothing more. And they don’t need it, frankly. 
The Marshall leads the new recruits back out of the room. He watches you go, wondering what your deal is. As though you sense his eyes on you, your eyes flicker over to his, catching his gaze. He’s unsure why, but he pauses, the room stilling for a split second. Then you’re grinning wickedly, vanishing from the room. 
He brushes it off and turns his eyes back to his friends. 
-
Lee Jihoon is prettier in person. You don’t know why it’s the first thing you notice as you watch him walk across the training center. He’s dressed in fitted cargo pants and a racing jacket over a t-shirt, emphasizing his broad shoulders. His hair is bleached and pinned into a low bun, some of his bangs hanging in his dark eyes. He doesn't notice you watching him as he nears an empty mat, shedding the jacket. 
He’s compact. Small, but toned, muscles rippling as he begins to go through a series of stretches. You know he’s a good fighter from your observations the day before. Everything about him screams efficiency. You can’t put your thumb on it, but the way he carries himself is methodical.
Lee Jihoon is the perfect jaeger pilot on paper. 
It’s the partners that he has a problem with. He’s had eight co-pilots in the last year alone, which is more than anyone has the right to. Before that, he managed to keep someone for six months before they requested a transfer to a different location. 
You sense Jihoon’s gaze, realizing he’s picked up on your staring. His expression is as neutral as it was yesterday, as though he has zero interest in whoever you are. He must not - he turns away and gets back to what he was doing, the moment passing without fanfare. 
Everyone in the room is paired with their pilots, going through fight sequences. You watch the different pairs, noting those who exhibit high-drift compatibility and others who are still learning. You note how many talented pilots this base has, likely due to the high activity. 
As though the thought summons the very creatures from the depths of the ocean, an alarm goes off. You don’t flinch, used to the kaiju alert system. It had gone off the day before, though. You look up at the screen as it flashes the names of the pilots on duty, calling them to report to the drop bridge. 
A few shouts of good luck draw your attention to the center of the room where two of the younger pilots head out. You’d seen them sparring earlier, so in time with one another that you weren’t sure where one began and one ended. The man looks at the girl and gives her a smile so full of love that you look away, startled at its intensity. 
While romantic connections between pilots aren’t totally uncommon, you’re not used to it. Most of the Rangers at your old base were family members and childhood friends, connection deep and intimate but not like that. You wonder what it must be like, if it makes love any easier to be that deeply connected. 
“So are you my new co-pilot?” a soft voice startles you and you turn to see that Jihoon has snuck up on you. His eyes are darker in person, entirely consuming as he looks down at you with a cocked head. His blonde hair sticks to his forehead, pale skin covered in a sheen of sweat. “You must be, right?”
“What makes you think that?”
“You’re not a cadet. And you’ve been watching me for the better part of two hours.” 
You shrug. “You can learn a lot from watching veterans.” 
“You could at least offer to spar to see if we’re any good together.”
“You mean to see if I’m good enough for you.” He lifts a shoulder, not disagreeing with you. Wiping your palms on your knees, you stand up. Even though he’s small, you’re still a little shorter than him, nearly eye level. You stick your hand out, giving him your name. “But you can call me Blue.”
Instead of taking your hand, he nods and turns on his heel, striding back to the mat he occupied earlier. You stand and stare at the newly vacated spot, hand held out in the air. “Alright,” you mutter to yourself, dropping your hand and going after him. 
Eyes follow you. You can feel them as you trail after him, watching his smooth, even gait. Everything about Jihoon is refined and controlled, even down to the minute expressions as he steps onto the mat and turns to face you. Sliding your shoes off, you join him, feeling the spring beneath your step and the softness of the floor.
Jihoon heads to a rack of bo staffs, picking one up and tossing it to you. You snatch it, spinning it lightly to test the weight. The balance is near perfect, a slight weight to the left side. You adjust accordingly, grip firm. Jihoon does the same, spinning his staff and rolling his shoulders.
“Who were those pilots called to make the drop?” you ask, conversational. 
“Dino and Wylie.” 
“Good pilots?” 
He takes his stance. “Excellent. They’re terrors. It won’t be a problem for them. Are you right handed or left handed?”
“Ambidextrous.”
“Good.” 
You don’t know why, but his assessing gaze bothers you suddenly. Like you know that even though you know you’re an excellent fighter, it still won’t be enough for him. The thought that you’ve lost before you even begun pricks a nerve and you strike first. 
It’s immediately obvious why you’re compatible. Jihoon knows your next move before you know what it is. You feel him move like an instinct, imagining his attack and defense before it happens. It isn’t a fight, but a dialogue, two skilled fighters communicating in a pattern only familiar to them. 
Sweat slicks the back of your neck and back. You barely register it, losing yourself in the rhythm of Jihoon’s movements. The sound of the training gym fades to the background and you barely hear the crack of your staffs as they meet over and over again. You hardly see him, vision fading to a narrow point of instinct.
This is how you fight. Muscle memory, driven by intuition.
Your intuition tells you that you’re perfectly matched, fighting style so similar that it’s hard to get a hit in - you won’t get a hit in, too in sync with him to out maneuver him. 
So you deviate. 
Instead of dodging a smack to the ribs, you let him hit you. His surprise is so apparent that he breaks his concentration and you strike, foot sweeping behind his ankle and pulling, knocking him from his feet. Jihoon goes down hard, breath leaving his lungs as you pounce, pinning him.
For a second, it’s just the two of you. His heart pounds, chest heaving in time with yours. Even your breaths are evenly matched, a tempo that is deeper than most human understanding. Drift compatible. You feel it the same way you feel the spark of his skin even through the fabric of his shirt. You’re so aware of it that you don’t hear what he says at first, his mouth moving but no sounds coming out.
“What?” 
“That doesn’t count,” he asserts. “I hit you first. The fight is over after that.”
You frown. “The fight doesn’t end until there’s a killing blow. A swipe to the ribs wouldn’t do it.”
“That isn’t how that works.” 
“There are no rules of engagement in the ocean.” 
He scowls. “There are basic principles to fighting. You lose when you get hit first.”
“Do you lose when a kaiju hits you first? Or do you keep fighting?” 
Jihoon huffs underneath you, shaking his head. You’ve still got him pinned, your palm pressed to his chest and your knee planted in his stomach. He glances away from you and you become aware that everyone has stopped to watch the two of you spar.
And you’re still on top of him. 
Clearing your throat, you climb off of him smoothly. You offer a hand to help him up but he doesn’t take it, getting up on his own. He’s flushed, cheeks tinged peak and mouth twisted in frustration. You watch him as he gives the room around you a cutting glance, making everyone immediately turn back to what they were doing. 
Jihoon puts his staff back and you watch him. He looks minorly irritated on the surface, but you can see it rippling deeper than that. He’s unsettled and it makes you grin. 
“This won’t work,” Jihoon says as he turns back to you, crossing his arms over his chest. You ignore the way his biceps flex and blink at him in confusion. “You can’t be my partner.”
“What? We’re compatible. That was one of the best fighting flows I’ve ever had.”
“We’re too different in principle.” 
That gets a frown from you. “I don’t think so at all. You let your instinct guide you. So do I.” 
“You deviate.” 
“I let the natural dialogue of the fight lead me.”
You let silence fall between you. You can see why so many other pilots had issues with him. Jihoon approaches every statement as though it is the absolute truth, a fact that cannot be disproven. He speaks with the authority of someone who knows he’s right often, and frequently goes unchallenged.
Instead of letting him get a rise out of you, you switch topics. “Are you hungry?”
He pauses. “What?” 
“What part of the question didn’t you understand? Are you hungry?”
Jihoon is perplexed. You’re sure that by now, mostly people have visibly grown upset with the combative dialogue. You don’t mind much, watching as he thinks on your question. You take the opportunity to appreciate the gentle slope of his nose up close, the delicate curve of his mouth, the contrast of feminine and masculine features that make an exquisite face. 
Then Jihoon unfolds his arms and walks past you. You turn to follow him but he says over his shoulder, “I don’t want to have lunch with you. We’re not friends.” 
There’s no room for argument in the way that he says it. You watch him as he leaves, never once turning back. 
-
You are vexing. 
There isn’t another word to describe you. Jihoon hasn’t the slightest idea how you’ve managed to so thoroughly irritate him at your first encounter, but he can’t stop thinking about how frustrated he is when he slams his tray down on the table. 
It’s a little early for lunch, mostly engineers and staff going on shift soon filling the room to eat quickly. The giant clock above the entryway to the cafeteria resets and Jihoon relaxes a little, confirming that Chan and Wylie are fine. He knew they would be - a Category Two kaiju is nothing for a pair like them.
Jihoon finds himself thinking of you. Of what you must be able to do in a jaeger.
Curious, Jihoon looks up your name. It rings a bell - you were pretty renowned at your homebase. Clicking through videos, he sets his phone on the table as he eats, eyes glued to the screen. Your drops are easily accessible to him, clicking through them as he eats. 
There is something hypnotizing the way you and your old co-pilot Maya Veliz fight. You’re efficient and without flashy moves, which he can appreciate. But there’s a speed at which you make decisions and take risks that has him shaking his head. 
Yet, there is something vaguely familiar. He pauses his meal to watch closer, realizing what it is. There is a brutality to your fighting that he recognizes in himself, a need to kill. You fight to win, willing to take a little damage if it means you can deal the final blow.
The thought unsettles him. Your fighting style is so similar to his that he would be lying if he tried to say otherwise. There is logic and calculation to your moves, but then there’s always that deviation. That random blip in your pattern that is unexpected and dangerous. 
“Will watching my drop footage make you like me more?”
Your voice startles him. He drops his fork and it clatters against the table, loud in the soft din of the cafeteria. You’re leaning over him, a smirk on your face and a devilish glint dancing in your eyes as you look at his phone screen where you successfully put down a kaiju. 
“Deathclaw wasn’t very impressive. It was pretty small. My mom and I took out Umbraxis my first year, though.”
Jihoon snatches his phone and locks the screen, putting it face down. He scowls down, feeling his heart flip a little. Your scent drifts over to him at your proximity, a mix of amber and jasmine. It’s already familiar to him, having caught the scent when you pinned him down earlier, hand pressed to his heart-
You sit across from him and he looks up at you. His mind goes blank, staring as you unwrap your silverware picking up a fork to stab a piece of chicken and pop it into your mouth. You hum happily, totally unaware - or maybe unbothered - at his increasing irritation. 
“Tell me about your jaeger,” you demand - not ask. Your eyes find his, two pools of curiosity that have his tongue heavy, words sticky. “I want to know all about her.”
“You’re not going to make the drop with me.”
The curve of your mouth is wicked. “Tell me anyway.”
For a few minutes, Jihoon doesn’t answer. He waits to see if the silence will push you away or make you anxious. It doesn’t seem to. You keep eating without saying anything else, occasionally glancing at him with a cocked brow as if to suggest you have all the time in the world. 
“She was re-outfitted two years ago,” Jihoon says slowly. He doesn’t know why he’s answering you at all, but he continues, “Mark-5 now with the new outfitted tech - she’s still nuclear-driven to avoid any EMP attacks. Outfitted with GD6 steel-obsidian chain swords on each arm, but there are also smaller, detachable blades for hand-to-hand fighting, along with some projectiles. She’s also got a lightning strike powered by the nuclear-core but it can only be used once, and only as a last resort. It obliterates local wildlife in the water.”
“What’s the suspension look like?”
“Gyro-stabilizers to stay fluid when fighting and L-10 locks on all of the joints to strap in and withstand damage. She’s built to take a lot of blunt-force and melee attacks, but she’s top heavy if she loses footing.”
“Have you only been in Storm Breaker?”
He nods. “Since my first drop.”
“She’s beautifully built.” 
Jihoon doesn’t respond. It does bring him a small sense of pride to know that you admire the jaeger he fights in, but he doesn’t thank you. He suspects you notice but doesn't say anything, which surprises him. You seem like the stubborn type who doesn't like to back down from a fight, and yet multiple times this morning you’ve conceded to him, refusing to get upset. 
It bothers him. He can’t tell if it’s because you’re a people pleaser or if you think you're gentle-parenting him, and he doesn’t like it either way. 
So he doesn’t talk to you. He lets the conversation die there, despite sensing your amusement from across the table. He feels the grip on his fork increase, metal biting into his palms as he tries to ignore you. He can smell the jasmine and amber of your perfume, which makes him feel more insane, and he can’t help but steal glances at you and dart his eyes away.
You’re pretty. He’s had attractive co-pilots before. That’s not new, nor has it ever bothered him. Something about you draws the eye, though. He thinks it’s the aura of confidence you give off, effortlessly comfortable in your skin and your situation, despite Jihoon not making it any easier on you.
“Hi,” The raspy voice interrupts Jihoon’s thoughts and he looks up as Wylie slams her tray down on the table. She’s sweaty, freshly peeled from her Drivesuite and offering a hand to you as she gives her full name. “You can call me Wylie, though. Everyone does. Are you Woozi’s new co-pilot?”
“Yes,” you answer at the same time Jihoon says no. “Though I didn’t know that was the name he preferred.” 
Wylie shoots him a sly grin and sits down next to him. He curses and scoots over, the younger girl nearly on top of him as she leans her elbows on the table. “He doesn’t prefer it, which is why it stuck. He's a very cranky cat, but he’s nice once you get to know him.” 
Jihoon scowls, turning to her. “Did I invite you to sit down with us?”
“No.” 
That’s it. That’s the end of her statement. Jihoon watches as she settles happily, opening chocolate milk and chugging it back like it’s water. Jihoon cringes and readies to lob an insult her way when he’s interrupted again, another tray slamming down next to hers. 
Closing his eyes, Jihoon summons all the gods he doesn’t believe in to give him the god damn patience. Chan is wearing a shit-eating grin as he leans across the table, offering his hand in the same, chipper manner his partner had moments before. 
“I’m Chan. But you can call me Dino.”
“Why Dino?” 
“I step on everyone.” 
You raise your brows, amused, eyes flickering to Wylie. Sensing your question, Wylie says around a mouthful of mac and cheese, “Like Wylie Coyote because I’m a menace who doesn’t stop attacking.” 
“How was your drop?” 
“Easy,” they say in unison. 
Jihoon focuses on his plate, feeling grouchy. They start to talk like he’s not even there, and though that is typically how conversations go around him, he’s suddenly bothered by it. Especially when you seem so smug that at least someone likes you. 
He wants to tell you they don’t count. Chan is one of the nicest people in the Shatterdome and will talk to anyone, if they give him the time of day. Wylie isn’t exactly nice but she’s in love with Chan and is happy to be nice to anyone who is being nice to him. The pair are relatively easy to win over. 
It only gets worse for him when Soonyoung and the others start sitting down. Everyone seems eager to ask you questions, a new shiny toy for his friends to play with. He chews on the corner of his lip, feeling stormy in the corner of the table as Seokmin peppers you with questions and exclamations at your answers. 
A shift in tension makes Jihoon look up. Seungcheol sits down at the table slowly, as though trying not to be a distraction or catch any attention. He’s three seats away from Wylie and out of her eyeshot, but Wylie is a born predator, sensing him like a hunter. Her eyes cut over to Seungcheol and she bristles, shooting up to her feet to grab her tray and storm off. 
Chan sighs, muttering a brief apology before grabbing his things and going after her. Jihoon glances at Seungcheol, watching the way his jaw ticks at the interaction. Surprisingly, you don’t ask any questions. You lean over to Soonyoung and ask him about some of their earlier fights, shifting the energy at the table from tense to light in a second.
Seungcheol relaxes, and though he doesn’t introduce himself, he’s not unkind to you. Jihoon feels a pang for the pilot, knowing that the last year has been difficult for him. Cherry left Seungcheol adrift without a partner, and he’s been unable to find someone to replace her. 
He thinks about offering you to Seungcheol as an alternative. 
Jihoon does learn a little bit about you while listening to everyone talk, though. You've only had two co-pilots in your life where Jihoon has lost count. He wonders what growing up piloting with a parent feels like, and though you smile as you talk about growing up working with your mom, there’s a tightness to your mouth, a look in your eye that he can’t place.
Feeling his gaze, your eyes shift to him. Jihoon realizes he’s been staring at you. He stands and leaves the table abruptly, Seokmin’s voice apologizing on his behalf drifting after him. 
Thankfully, you don’t follow him. He dumps his tray and leaves it in the discarded pile for the cafeteria staff and immediately begins the climb to the command bridge where the Marshall’s office is. His thoughts race but go nowhere at the same time, an echochamber that he can’t untangle. 
Before Jihoon can knock on the entrance to the Marshall’s office, the military commander looks up and waves Jihoon in. “I was about to call for you. Shut the door, please.”
Jihoon does so without comment and sits down. He glances around the office, distracting himself as the Marshall finishes what he was working on. The office is orderly and tidy, every ounce the professional and uptight officer that sits in front of Jihoon, leaning back in the seat to sigh heavily and level Jihoon with a stare. 
Before Jihoon can open his mouth to list all of the reasons you shouldn’t be his pilot, the Marshall speaks. “You’re on probation.” 
“I - what?” 
“For the next three months, if you lose your co-pilot, you will be reassigned to administrative work or to a new Shatterdome.”
Jihoon opens his mouth. Closes it. The weight of the Marshall’s words don’t quite sink in, though Jihoon can tell they’re heavy. Real. “We’ve given you plenty of chances to effectively remain a pilot for Storm Breaker, but the board feels as though the trade off has become an issue.”
“The trade off?”
“You’re costing us money. And cadets. People want to train where they can potentially see themselves become a pilot. When we have open spots and jaegers coming up on retirement, it bolsters recruitment.” The Marshall levels him with a tired stare. “But when we have a pilot who no one can partner with, it puts us in a bind to send cadets where they will fit elsewhere.” 
“Look - “
“No you look, Lee. You’ve been a pilot here for six years. That’s considered a veteran in this field. But the higher ups grow tired of even veterans when they’ve been unmanageable for the last two of those six years.”
Heat flashes up the side of Jihoon’s neck, equal parts embarrassed and angry. He’d been the first in his class to suit up, selected as Haneul’s co-pilot to fill in for their partner that had retired. Jihoon remembers how proud - and nervous - he was and how easy it had been to partner with Haneul.
He didn’t have that anymore, the safety net of the only parental figure he’d ever known gone. 
“The pilots you’ve paired me with have no business being in a jaeger,” Jihoon says matter of factly. “I don’t respect them.”
“Well good thing we’ve given you someone to respect.”
Jihoon shakes his head. “I can’t fight with her.”
“You can and you will. Your drift compatibility is 98% and you have similar fighting style and come from similar machines. You’ll start Conn-pod training tomorrow.”
“Don’t make me partner with her. I don’t like her.”
The Marshall stands. “One day you might learn that if you give people a chance, you’d like what you find.” 
“Marshall-” 
“That’s all, Ranger.” 
The air feels heavy as Jihoon leaves the Marshall’s office. He stops on the command deck, his eyes flickering over to the windows. The glass is floor to ceiling all the way around, giving the tower a 360-degree view of the pacific ocean. Blue stretches out as far as the eye can see, backdropped by the shining silver of the city. 
Boats bob on the water, shifting back and forth on the dark surface. Air teams go back and forth, working in the aftermath of Chan and Wylie’s successful kaiju destruction. Jihoon can see the toxicity on the surface of the water, an oil slick that he knows the exact pungent smell of. 
Trailing to an observation window, he stares with unseeing eyes. How many times had he stood up here and provided commentary to his friends during a fight? He didn’t frequent the command deck, but sometimes it gave him perspective. Or he was a little worried about his friends, especially when they were taking on higher category kaiju. 
Jihoon chews on the side of his lip. He’s talked Wylie and Chan through plenty of bouts before. He remembers sharply the terror of the fight that had changed all of their lives over a year ago, watching as the hull of Fang Striker was breached, the screams of terror as Wylie took a talon to the stomach, nearly killing her. The aftermath of Chan’s grief.
A chill breaks out over his arms. Jihoon knows he isn’t cut out to sit through something like that again, to try and get a panicking pilot to focus and get to safety. He’s not made for an advisory role. Not built to watch pilots come and go, completely operating out of his control. 
Death is easier to process in the heat of battle. It gives him an excuse to be distracted, to hide from the immediate pain of losing a pilot during a fight because he’s too busy protecting himself, protecting the city. He’s not made to watch it from afar and take the full weight of it.
Turning away from the window, Jihoon descends back down to the ground floor. 
Probation period. Three months of having to stomach you or he’s out. Flexing his fingers, he heads to his room, needing the silence. If Jihoon is going to do this, he knows he needs to keep himself in line. Can’t push you away like he has the others. 
And he hates you for it.
-
Music bleeds through the metal door out into the hall. You wonder how any of the neighboring rooms let him get away with it. Then again, Lee Jihoon seems like someone most jaeger pilots don’t go toe-to-toe with often, if they can help it. At least it’s classical music, the swelling sound of Mozart sweeping into the hallway as you open the door, propping it with your hip to haul the box in your arms through. 
Jihoon’s eyes snap open immediately. He’s lounging on the bottom bunk of the bed in the far corner of the room, face lit by the glow of the muted screen in the corner showing the rain and ocean spray beating against the Shatterdome. Nothing disturbs the seas at the moment, though you wonder in a hotspot like this how long that will last. 
A scowl twists his mouth. You let the door shut behind you, setting the box down on the media table by the doorway. “Mozart?” you ask, arching a brow. He glares at you, sitting up from where he had been lounging with his hands tucked behind his head. “A bit cliche, don’t you think?” 
“What do you know about music?”
“Enough to know that someone with balanced compositions that orchestrate total control and logic in its make is… not surprising for you.” He blinks in surprise. “I like Tchaikovsky. There’s something more mercurial to his compositions.” 
“Tchaikovsky was inspired by Mozart.”
“I didn’t say one was better than the other.” You smirk. “You don’t like differences of opinion, do you?”
“I always value opinions. Some more than others.”
“Mhmm. Where can I put my things?”
Jihoon closes his eyes and lays back on the bed. His blonde hair is undone, fanning around him in a silvery-white halo. “The trash chute, preferably.” 
“Wherever I want, got it.” 
He ignores you. You suppress a laugh and move into the room proper. It’s small, filled with only the essentials to house two people to eat, sleep, and shower. A small kitchenette sits to your left, hidden in darkness with all of the lights off. You spot a shelf filled with dry goods - mostly protein bars - and coffee. There is a sad excuse for a sitting area with a tiny table and two chairs next to the TV screen, a bunk bed with a wardrobe next to it, and a tiny bathroom.
Cozy. 
Pulling open the wardrobe, you see that there’s room for your things. You shoot Jihoon a sidelong glance. He certainly hadn’t moved his things over to take over the full wardrobe after his last pilot left. You wonder if he’s just used to being unable to use the full space or if he had made room for you.
You doubt it’s the latter. 
Ave Verum Corpus plays in the background as you unpack the tiny box that is your life. You hum along, shutting the wardrobe and padding over to the bathroom. Jihoon could be asleep for all you know, but you suspect he’s not. When you glance over at him after shutting the medicine cabinet, you see his foot tapping to the beat of the music.
“What other kind of music do you like?” His foot stops tapping at your question.
Turning off the bathroom light, you move to the door to break down the cardboard box you brought your things in. Jihoon doesn’t answer at first, his frame rigid with tension, as though he had forgotten you were there until you spoke. You suppose that’s entirely possible, if not a little unlikely. 
Just when you think he’s not going to answer, he mutters, “I like ballads.”
“Romantic.” He frowns but doesn’t say anything further. “What’s your favorite one? Or artist?”
“Go play twenty questions with someone else. I’m not interested.”
“I’m going to find out anyway.” He opens his eyes then. They’re dark, pupils blown as his face twitches in an almost snarl. “It is an inevitable fact that we will have to drift. I recommend making peace with that now.” 
“I’m going to bed,” he announces, flopping over on his side and crossing his arms.
You let Jihoon be mean. It does you no good to fight with him when you eventually need him on your side, and you can sympathize with him to a degree. He didn’t choose you as his pilot and he’s backed into a corner, a do or die situation that he can’t back out of. The only way is forward and it’s against his will. 
As he pretends to sleep, you occupy yourself on the top bunk with your tablet, sliding headphones over your ears so he doesn’t bitch you out. Flicking through online channels, you familiarize yourself with your fellow jaeger pilots at the Shatterdome, watching fight footage and interviews. 
You come across a set of popular pilots, only one of them familiar to you. You recognize the man from dinner earlier - he had sat down and the tension around the table had increased tenfold. Wylie had immediately clocked his presence and stormed off, Chan trailing behind her with an apologetic look.
Tapping on their information, you hum in interest to yourself. Seungcheol. You recognize the name, vaguely. He piloted Duellona Fury with his copilot, a woman you don’t recognize but that has a bright smile. They make a good team, totally in sync and feeding off each other’s energy. You wonder where she is now, assuming she’s the source of the tension between Wylie and Seungcheol.
You wonder what you and Jihoon will be like as drift partners. So far he seems to hate you, but he does tolerate you. It’s a start, if not ideal. You won’t start drifting right away - not for real anyway. Practicing combat drills and learning more about one another is the first step to any partnership, followed by practice drifts.
In the drift, there’s no room for hatred or enmity. Trust is paramount, but almost as important is respect. Respect for what you see in the thoughts and feelings of your partner, respect that they’re good at what they do and that they’re the best person for the job, respect that they are your equal. Too many partners get lost in trying to save the other, losing sight of being equally capable or feeling like they know better. 
Jihoon doesn’t seem capable of that. Not right now, anyway. It doesn’t matter, though. You’re his only option to stay in the jaeger program, and though he hasn’t said anything about it, you’re pretty sure he knows. 
“Can you shut the tablet off?” Jihoon grunts from below. You sigh heavily, tucking it to your chest. “The glow is fucking bright.”
“The TV is also glowing, Jihoon.” 
“Yeah, so your tablet adds to the general light in the room.”
“Close your eyes.”
“It isn’t helping. Go under your covers.”
Closing your eyes and taking a deep breath in, you lock the tablet and shove it under your pillow. “Better?”
“Yes.”
Weather the storm, you think to yourself. Jihoon is angry and capricious, but it’s more to do with his situation than it is to do with you. And despite his snappy nature, there are flashes of him willing to work with you by answering questions, albeit with attitude. 
You can do this. You can make Lee Jihoon like you. Maybe even respect you.
-
You are not a morning person. Lee Jihoon, however, is a morning person. Which is why it takes everything inside of you not to launch your pillow at him when you hear the classical music wake you from sleep in the morning, making you lift your heavy head to look around the room, vision blurry.
Heat from a fresh shower drifts from the bathroom only a short distance away. You stare in confusion, blinking rapidly as Jihoon walks out of the bathroom. He’s brushing his teeth furiously with one hand, looking at his phone with the other, blue light making him look like a phantom in the dim light. 
And he’s dressed in nothing but a towel slung low on his waist, making you nearly go catatonic. 
It’s not like you haven’t seen a body before - it’s just a body, and soon enough, you’ll be in his head. It’s important to get any weirdness out of the way because in the drift, you’ll bare everything. But for some reason the image of his small, compact body scrambles your brain this early in the morning.
Jihoon is built like a weapon, all sleek lines and hard muscles. He stands in the kitchen, setting down his phone as he opens cabinets and starts to make coffee, toothbrush still in his mouth. The muscles in his back flex as he moves, skin pale and smooth as the moon. 
“Are you a coffee person?” he asks, because he knows you’re awake. Of course he does. You don’t answer for a moment, stuck between eyeing the narrow taper of his hips and the question that implies he’s willing to make you coffee. He turns, arching a brow at you. “Now you shut up?” 
That brings a scowl to your face. “Yes, I drink coffee.” 
“Great.” 
He goes back to what he was doing, ignoring you entirely. Dragging your eyes away from him, feeling flushed and overwarm, you throw the covers back, scrambling from the top bunk. You land with a soft huff, feeling the chill of the concrete floor as you dart to the wardrobe to pull out clothes. 
“What time is it?”
“You have eyes, look at the TV.”
Got it, you think. He’ll make coffee for you but not do something as simple as answer what time it is. You do look at the TV, seeing the darkened feed of the churning ocean breaking against the walls of the Shatterdome. There are multiple camera angles, weather radar and Dome messages that break up the screen into sections. The time is in the top corner, flashing 5:13 am. 
“Ji, it is five in the morning.”
“Five-thirteen. And don’t call me Ji. I’m not your buddy.” 
Taking a deep breath, you mutter curses under your breath. “I’m going to shower.”
As expected, you get no response. 
The great thing about living in a billion dollar buildinding with hundreds of people is that there’s no shortage of hot water. You’re grateful as the steam fills the room, hot water making your coiled muscles melt the second you step under the shower. You let the frustration from the morning fade away, the rush of the water and the feel of it sluicing down your back-
A loud knock on the door breaks your reverie. You hear it open. Jihoon grunts, “I wasn’t done brushing my teeth. I need the sink.”
“Then use the sink.”
Jihoon shuffles into the bathroom. You hear the faucet turn on and you go back to tilting your head backward under the stream of water, ignoring the sound of him going about his morning routine. In a way, it’s sort of peaceful, the sounds of him softly opening and closing cabinets and the clinking of jars against the counter soft in the background. 
He’s back in the kitchen by the time you’re out of the shower and wrapped in a towel. You venture out into the main room in kind, deciding that if he is going to walk around in nothing but a towel, so will you. He barely gives you a glance from his bottom bunk, lounging around in low-slung sweats with no shirt, blonde hair splayed on his pillow. You ignore him in favor of the lone mug of coffee sitting in the kitchen steaming.
Gripping it and bringing it up, you let the ceramic warm you from your palms upward, inhaling before taking a tentative sip. It’s bitter but it helps you wake up. You glance at Jihoon from over the lip of the cup. He scrolls on a tablet mindlessly, as though he’s forgotten you’re there.
Neither one of you speaks as you finish your coffee. Turning to the sink, you start washing the cup out. You notice his used mug sitting in the bottom of the sink and pick it up, wash it and put it in the drying rack next to yours without thinking about it before returning to the bathroom to dress fully.
Once dressed and out of the bathroom, it’s almost six. Jihoon is bent over by the door, his boot on the coffee table as he laces it. Now fully dressed, his long hair is pulled back in a bun, a few silver whisps escaping and falling across his face. Again, you’re struck by how beautiful he is for a moment. 
He straightens and looks at you, raising his brows. Instead of answering him, you hurry to the wardrobe, pulling out your boots to slide them on and head to breakfast. You half expect him to leave you behind, but to your surprise, he lingers with the door open, dark eyes clocking your every movement. As soon as you’re done tying laces, he’s out the door and charging again, leaving you to scramble behind him.
Silence follows you into the cafeteria, which has the quiet atmosphere of an early morning. Workers and pilots ending their shifts sit at the table, scarfing down breakfast for dinner. Early shift workers hurry to grab a bite before heading off to the different parts of the Shatterdome. It’s not nearly as loud as lunch or dinner, but the soft din is inviting as you go through the line, following your new co-pilot wordlessly. 
None of the friendly faces from yesterday are in the cafeteria, so the two of you sit alone. Jihoon is methodical as he sets up his breakfast, each move calculated and precise. He eats the same way, finishing something entirely before moving on to the next time. 
His obsession with organization and control is almost fascinating, if not a little worrying. Instead of asking about it, you eat in silence, humming delightedly at the cheesy hashbrowns made available that morning. He casts you a single annoyed glance when he notices you enjoying your meal. 
Breakfast goes without a fight, though. Glancing at the large clock above the entrance to the cafeteria, you realize you only have a few minutes left before your day of training starts. Jihoon seems to be on the same wavelength, pulling out his phone to scroll through your schedule. 
“Meditation first,” he murmurs. He shoves his phone in his pocket and stands without preamble. “Do you think you can manage meditation?”
“Perhaps you haven’t noticed, but we haven’t spoken for over an hour.”
Confusion crosses his face, quickly followed by astonishment. He hadn’t realized that most of your morning has been spent in silence. His brows pull together, mouth turning slightly as he works over your words. It seems to make him unhappy. He narrows his eyes and his mouth twists before he turns and marches away from the table, leaving you behind. 
Mouth quirking, you follow quickly, not wanting to lose your way to wherever it is you’re supposed to report to. He walks faster this time, determined to keep you moving and on your toes. Wherever the studio designated to you for the morning feels like it’s halfway around the world. Jihoon leads you down a series of halls and stairs, never slowing his pace once.
By the time you get to a small, soundproof room, your calves are burning. 
“You need conditioning,” he mutters, noticing the way you’re a little out of breath.
“You basically just took me on a light jog,” you protest. “I think it’s fair to be a little winded this early in the morning.”
“It doesn’t matter what time it is. What will you do if we make the drop at four in the morning?” 
Jihoon doesn’t wait for you to answer. Instead, he goes to the middle of the room and sits down on the floor, and crosses his legs. Instead of taking his bait and picking a fight with him, you sigh and stride into the room. He positions himself, ready for you to sit in front of him. Instead, you circle around him, sitting down behind him. 
“What are you doing?” he asks, twisting toward you.
“Meditating. Turn back around so we can be back-to-back.”
“What? Why?”
“Just trust me.”
“I don’t.”
“Well, try. It’s easier to feel your breaths and your heartbeat this way. Plus, there's less pressure if you don’t have to look directly at me.”
“Thank god for that,” he mutters.
You roll your eyes at the barb but grin when Jihoon listens, twisting back around to face the front. He lets you settle against him, the warmth from his back melting into yours. He is rigid, his spine solid as it digs into yours for a second. You lick your lips, feeling electricity shiver down you at the contact, like there’s a spark. 
The hum of the air condition is the only sound in the room. You close your eyes, leaning into Jihoon so that you fit flush together. You match your breaths with his, feeling your breathing slow down. Your heart slows to, like it’s trying to let him catch up, both of you melting into the same rhythm. 
Behind you, Jihoon relaxes. The back of his head rests against yours, both of you leaning into the touch, becoming the equal opposing force holding the other up. 
Balance is imperative in co-pilots. Jihoon needed to bring to the fight what you lacked and vice versa, the two of you making something whole, something complete. It’s a balance that’s not easily achieved, and though you’d always been a good pair with your mother and then maya, you know instinctively that it’s nothing compared to Jihoon’s counterbalance. 
A timer goes off in the room, startling you with how quickly time has passed. You blink your eyes rapidly, letting the room swim back into focus. For a second, neither one of you moves, content to lean against the other until Jihoon seems to realize he’s still pressed against you. He scrambles to his feet unexpectedly and you fall backward, losing his counterweight immediately. 
Thunking against the floor, you glare up at him. He smirks, looking down at you as he wipes dust from the back of his pants. “You should never let a co-pilot fall,” you huff, hauling yourself to your feet. 
“Good thing we’re not really co-pilots.”
“Yet,” you supply. You get up, stretching and feeling your joints pop. “Even you can’t deny that it was a great first meditation session.”
“Let’s go. We have sparring.” 
-
Jihoon doesn’t like you. 
He doesn’t like you, but he has to admit you are a perfect fit for him. You are loud where he is quiet, you make light when he remains serious, and you deviate when he’s planned. Yet somehow, you manage to mesh with him in your training, the perfect opposite force to him.
For the most part, you leave him alone. He can tell you’ve figured out when to bite back and when to eat your words. It’s become a game to him, throwing insults your way to watch whether you’ll riposte back or swallow your pride. 
The amount of times you swallow your pride impresses him, unfortunately. His original assessment that you are unpredictable and uncontrolled was wrong. He can see the way you actively meet his cold winter with warm summer, trying to melt him. 
He doesn't like giving you credit for your control, but he does so begrudgingly. 
Worst of all, he realizes that it’s not you he dislikes. It’s his situation, it’s knowing that you’re his lifeline and he has to accept you, and it’s knowing that despite his initial dislike, you’re a mirror that he can’t look away from. It doesn’t help that you live two feet away from him at all times, occupying every moment of his life just a reach-of-a-hand away. 
Training is tiring. It feels like he’s a rookie all over again, going through the exercises as the two of you learn to fight together, moving through meditation sessions, sparring, talking sessions - which don't really involve a lot of talking on his part as much as yours - and drop simulations. 
Drop simulations are the most exhausting for him. You bring everything to the drift. It’s nearly overwhelming at first how much you’re willing to show him. From the moment the mental bridge connects the two of you through the simulation software, Jihoon is shocked at the way you lay yourself bare. You hide nothing from him, letting him roam around your thoughts at his leisure. 
He feels everything you’ve ever felt. Elation when you make your first real drop with your first co-pilot, your mom. Sore ribs after a particularly difficult sparring match when you were a teeager in the training program. Pride when you finish the top of your training program. Terror when a fight goes awry and your mother overwhelms you in the drift, taking the full neural load of the jaeger to protect you. Rage at her doing so. 
“What happened here?” he finds himself asking, sticking near the memory. 
He thinks you won’t answer him, but of course you do. Unlike him, you’re open for the taking. “The hull was breached in my first year of fighting. My mother panicked because it was on my side of the jaeger and she tried to take on the neural load.” 
Jihoon says nothing. Piloting a jaeger alone overwhelms the nervous system and the brain, which is why each jaeger has two pilots in the first place. It can be done, but the risk for damage is always present. He senses where your conversation is going.
“We only piloted together for three more years after that. She was starting to struggle to make the drift, so we paused to get her examined. They discovered lesions on her brain and linked it to the damage from that day she tried to pilot alone.”
“She wanted to protect you.”
“She did, but it doesn’t make up for what she did. I was her equal, not someone she was supposed to protect.” You look at him and he looks at you, surrounded by your memories in the drift. “I am deserving of treated like an equal.” 
He understands what you’re really saying, that he should treat you like an equal too. Instead of responding, he busies himself with studying other parts of you that you let him have. 
There is a melody to your mind that he enjoys, though he’ll never tell you so. The more you drift together, the more Jihoon realizes that you are exactly like a Tchaikovsky piece. There is an organized chaos to you, a mathematical formula that is logical and measurable, but that deviates from the norm once in a while. 
Every drift, you remain open to him, your thoughts for the taking. You don’t even hide the moments you’ve thought of him - both in occasional attraction and irritation. Irritation at him bringing nothing to drift, opening no part of himself to you. Irritation when he’s mean to you. Hesitant fondness when he does something nice. Confused attraction when he walks around in just a towel. 
Water sluices down his back. Jihoon’s thoughts are still foggy from three weeks of nothing but practice and drills. He also finds it harder to sleep sometimes in the room, his dreams filled with the scent of your amber and jasmine and the lively sound of Tchaikovsky acting as the soundtrack to his dreams.
You’re still asleep when he exits the bathroom. He’s made sure to turn the light off before opening the door, steam billowing out after him. He scoops headphones from the nightstand as he heads to the kitchen, towel snug around his waist. He pops the earbuds in, the sound of Mozart starting his morning as he begins to make coffee. 
Jihoon has quickly learned that the longer he lets you sleep in the morning, the less whiny you are when you wake up. Instead of playing his music out loud, he lets you sleep until he’s made two cups of coffee, adding a spoonful of brown sugar and milk to yours. He sets it on the table and walks back to the bathroom, one of the requiem pieces carrying him through his routine. 
On the way to the bathroom, he stops by your bunk. He hesitates for a second, drinking you in as you sleep. Nestled in that top bunk is the only place you’re as peaceful as you are in the drift. Your features are smoothed out as you slumber, mouth open a little, drool sticky on the corner of your mouth. Jihoon’s lips twitch a little and he shakes his head before reaching out to tap the ankle hanging off your bed. You mumble in response. 
“Get up,” he says gruffly. “You’ve slept long enough.”
He returns to the bathroom and shuts the door to get fully dressed. He knows you’ll be standing in the kitchen looking dazed and confused sipping coffee until he comes out and frees the bathroom for you to shower. 
The alarm for a kaiju alert goes off. He hears it blaring over his music and he pulls the earbuds out, opening the door half dressed in just pants as he looks at the screen flashing red. A Category Four kaiju has been sighted in the bay. His heart skips, knowing that Cat-4 kaiju are dangerous even for the most skilled pilots at the Dome. 
Assignments flash across the screen. Solar Saber and Fang Striker have been summoned to drop. Nervousness flutters in Jihoon’s stomach. He snatches a shirt and yanks it over his head, moving quickly around the room to grab boots. 
“What are you doing?” you ask, leaning off the counter. 
“Heading to the command deck. Come or don’t.”
“I’ll come.” 
You dump your coffee in the sink, jumping to action as you peel off your pajama pants, searching for cargos. Jihoon hardly realizes you’re changing in front of him - he’s seen it all in your head anyway - as he laces his boots. He doesn’t know why, but he starts to explain himself, “Dino and Wylie have a… history with Cat-4 kaiju.” 
“You want to be an extra set of eyes and ears.” He nods at the accurate assessment. “Got it. Run me through Solar Saber drop stats if you know them.”
Jihoon does. He fires off what he knows about the team. Their stats are fine, but a Category Four kaiju is new for them. They have a good jaeger. It’s on the newer side, nuclear powered with plasma cannons and a massive plasma sword that burns brighter than the sun, earning the machine its name. It’s piloted by a set of twins, which produce some of the best drifts in the jaeger program.
But there’s a nervousness in Jihoon’s stomach that he can’t place. Everytime his friends drop, he knows they’ll be okay - but he also knows the level of danger. Perhaps it’s because of Chan and Wylie’s accident last year or because they’re dropping with a team Jihoon doesn’t trust, but he suddenly wants to tell the Marshall to let Storm Breaker do the drop.
A hand brings him out of his thoughts. Your gaze is as calm as the surface of a lake, piercing. “We’re ready, if we need to be.” 
Of course you know what he’s thinking. Despite his best efforts, you seem particularly good at stitching the tiny threads that escape through Jihoon’s wall of ice.  
You drop your hand and grab the room keys, heading toward the door with top speed. His arm is warm where your fingers were a moment ago, burning like a brand. He shakes it off as he follows you out, both of you jogging up to the top level of the Shatterdome to observe. 
Crew races around the dome. Jihoon sees Seungkwan and Vernon rushing up the stairs to the command deck. He follows suit, you quick on his heels. People fill the room, talking over one another as they shout into headsets and screens flash different camera angles. 
The Marshall stands in the center of it all behind the LOCCENT Mission Controller who will walk the pilots through the fight. Jihoon doesn’t recognize the man giving them instructions, but he joins the wall of people standing behind him to observe the screens, taking a place next to Vernon and Seungkwan. 
You glance at Vernon and back to Jihoon, a question in your gaze. “This is Vernon,” Jihoon says in response. “He’s currently a jumphawk pilot. Could be a jaeger pilot if he could figure out the drift but he’s too screwy up top.” 
“Thanks, man.”
“You can call me Blue,” you offer. Your eyes drift to the screens. “Friends of the pilots out there?”
“Wylie is one of my best friends.” 
Instead of telling him something like they’ll be alright or offering words of comfort, all you do is nod. Jihoon respects that. Anything comforting would be a potential lie and useless in a world of blood and metal, salt and fire. 
The entire room falls into a steady cadence. Jihoon crosses his arms as he focuses on the screen. He’s mutely aware that you’re standing so close to him he can feel the heat of your arm, hands shoved in your pockets as you watch the screens, brows furrowed in concentration. 
On screen, Solar Saber churns the water toward a towering kaiju in the bay. The creature is straight out of a nightmare, a barbed tail whipping across the surface of the ocean, misting water as it does. From what Jihoon can tell, it’s got four legs, each equipped with long talons. Rows and rows of teeth reveal itself as the kaiju opens its mouth and roars, the vibration from the sound so deep that it vibrates underneath his feet. 
“I don’t like that tail,” Vernon mutters next to Jihoon. 
“It’s like a manticore.” Jihoon glances at you. You’re not looking at them, but your head is tilted in curiosity as you point to the screen. “Four legs, a curved tail with a barb. The webbing around its neck suggests it might have a frill.”
“Strike teams, confirm positions,” the LOCCENT controller says into the mic. 
“Fang Striker in position two miles north of kaiju and Solar Saber.” It’s Wylie’s raspy voice that crackles over the shared radiowave with the jaeger teams. “Perimeter is set.”
“Solar Saber ready to engage,” a female voice comes over the speaker. Jihoon recognizes it as one of the twin co-pilots, Jezzi. 
“Permission to engage.” 
As Solar Saber engages with the kaiju, the command deck goes quiet. People guiding the helicopters and ground teams speak softly into their mics, a level of tense calm washing over as everyone watches the fight ensue.
Solar Saber is beautiful to watch fight. The armor is painted radiant gold and the glow of the sword is magnificent against the stormy waters as it slashes at the kaiju. Jezzi and her sister Yaz are calm throughout their bout, their voices clear and communicative as the kaiju batters them. 
“Cut off the tail,” you mutter under your breath. “It’s going to-”
Jihoon sees what you do as soon as you say it. While trying to kill the kaiju with a direct blow, Solar Saber has forgotten about the tail. The tip of the tail shivers, reminding Jihoon of a cat ready to strike, and it does. One moment, Solar Saber and the kaiju are locked in a wrestling match. Next, the tail is hammering the hull of the jaeger, striking over and over again like a scorpion.
Chaos explodes on the screens. Jihoon holds his breath as red flashes across the screens as the tail breaches the hull of Solar Saber. A tingle settles over him, the buzz of nerves as he watches Solar Saber take a knee, ocean water surging around the jaeger as the kaiju’s tail continues to hammer the jaeger’s head open. 
Jihoon grabs the LOCCENT Controller’s chair and yanks him backward out of the way, jamming his finger against the button to speak. “Don’t let it force you under the waterline,” he barks. “Cut off that tail, Solar Saber. If it forces you down, you’re going to take on water and drown.” 
“The right panel is damaged from acid from the tail,” Jezzi yells over the comes. “Sword arm cannot engage.” 
“Then disengage, Solar Saber. Do not let it force you down another knee.” 
Yaz screams back something incomprehensible over the comms. The left arm of Solar Saber lurches, reaching for the kaiju’s tail. It catches, yanking at the appendage hard. The kaiju screams as the tail breaks where Solar Saber has it gripped. The kaiju frenzies, screaming wildly as frills - just like you’d predicted - shake to life by its head, vibrating back and forth in a threat display as its dismembered tail whips back and forth, spraying ichor. 
“Fang Striker engaging,” Chan’s voice comes over the comms.
It’s the Marshall who answers. “Fang Striker, hold the perimeter.” 
“Fuck the peremiter,” Wylie seethes. 
The Marshall turns to you and Jihoon. “We’re ready,” Jihoon says at the same time as you.
A string of curses leaves Marshall’s mouth. “Fang Striker, assist Solar Saber with the intent to disengage. Storm Breaker dropping in ten.” 
Heart hammering, Jihoon turns to follow you out of the command center, footsteps like thunder as you sprint to the jaeger bay. He doesn’t even think twice about dropping with you, any reservations about you vanishing as the fighting instinct takes over. 
You’re an entirely different person when you step onto the catwalk, your team already scrambling with pieces of your Drivesuit. There is an eerie calm about you. You meet his gaze head on as your team fits armored pieces of Drivesuit onto your arms. Jihoon sees himself reflected so clearly that he’s startled. 
“What?” you ask, sensing the bewilderment. 
“Show me what you’re made of,” he says simply. 
Your mouth curves in a wicked grin and you nod once, understanding. 
Storm Breaker is beautiful. The fondness for her sweeps over him as he steps into the cockpit. The screens come to life, casting blue and red glow all over as he steps into the Conn-pod. He sheds any reservations he has as the team helps him connect. You’re only a few feet away, stepping into the left side of the Conn-pod. 
Jihoon’s world shifts to screens and canned voices in his headset as the shield of his helmet closes. It’s Seungkwan he hears over comms saying, “Engaging pilot to pilot connection protocol sequence.” 
“Do the pilots always take over the LOCCENT Controller’s here?” you muse, just to Jihoon. 
His lips twitch. “What can I say? Seungkwan knows I’m a control freak.” 
“Engaging neural handshake in three… two… one…” 
The world around him goes mute for a moment. Jihoon’s vision flashes white for a second. He feels you then, your thoughts and feelings becoming his. They’re not overwhelming though. He feels focus and determination from you with an undercurrent of ferocity. All of your memories and other feelings are there too, but they exist in the background. You’re a seasoned pilot, Jihoon doesn’t have to worry about you chasing the rabbit and falling down a hole of memories. 
“Neural handshake holding and strong,” Seungkwan calls. “Initiating drop in three… two… one…”
Jihoon’s stomach flies into his throat as he falls away from the world. The world is nothing but freefall for a few seconds. He feels the thrill that shoots through you and smiles - he can’t help it. Bending at the knee, he braces for impact. You do the same, and the cockpit lands on the jaeger’s mainframe with a metallic clang.
“Calibrating right hemisphere,” Jihoon announces, feeling the machine start to power to life. “Calibrated.” 
You repeat on the left side, the full machine powered on and ready with both hemispheres locked in.
“Storm Breaker ready to pursue,” Jihoon says. He looks up at the screen where Fang Striker is engaging the kaiju. Outside of Storm Breaker, he might feel his heart race with panic. Solar Saber is overturned and he has no idea if the pilots are inside of it as it takes on water. “Two miles out from contact.” 
“Pursue.” 
Your first step as a team is perfect. Fluid. Jihoon knew it would be. He hates to admit that he was wrong, but he knows it is. There is a thread of satisfaction bleeding over from you as Storm Breaker charges into the ocean, water rising rapidly around the waist. 
Ocean water slams against Storm Breaker’s chest as you charge toward the fighting. Fang Striker’s comms are patched in, but Wylie and Chan are silent as they rip at the kaiju, pulling at one of its wings that it unfolded from its back. Fang Striker looks tiny against the hulking mass of the monster, but its team is doing what it does best, savaging the creature a little at a time.
“Storm Breaker half a mile out,” you announce, voice like steel. “Ready to engage.” 
“Engage at your discretion.”
“Storm Breaker,” Chan says over comms. “Try and restrain this motherfucker. We’ve got a loose plate in its armor to exploit but it keeps shaking us off.”
“Heard.” 
As if hearing Chan, the kaiju flings Fang Striker off. Fang Striker’s red body crashes into the ocean, Wylie cursing the kaiju straight to hell and about fifty other foul places. 
Storm Breaker engages, both you and Jihoon plunging into the fight. The kaiju swipes at you but you both duck together, dodging the swing as you punch hard from the left in tandem. You knock it hard, it’s head snapping to the side. As a team, you use the opening to wrap the right arm around the kaiju’s neck, squeezing it toward Storm Breaker’s chest in a headlock. 
Stabilizers and locks click into place. He grits his teeth, as though feeling the actual strength it takes as the kaiju roars and claws at Storm Breaker, trying to free itself from the headlock. Together, you put the left arm around it, adding to the force to keep the kaiju from slipping from your grip. 
Clawed blows hammer down on Storm Breaker. Neither of you gives way, tightening your grip on the creature and ignoring the way the talons scratch against the hull. Storm Breaker is built to withstand, and neither one of you flinches as furious blows rain down on you, fists hammering. 
��It looks like that kaiju is playing you like a bongo,” Wylie’s voice comes over comms. “Hey Woozi, do you feel like it’s composing one of those songs you like?”
“Oh sure,” he shoots back. “Take your time, Wylie. It’s not like it’s trying to crack us like an egg.” 
“Ugh,” you sigh. “Don’t talk about food. I didn’t eat breakfast. Hey Seungkwan, can you ask Joshua to save me some hash browns? He’s always at the cafeteria first.” 
Jihoon rolls his eyes. “You’re all insane. Any day now, Fang Striker.” 
Fang Striker appears from the sky like a creature from hell, a red streak of death as it falls. They land on the kaiju’s back, the force of the landing vibrating through Storm Breaker’s frame. The kaiju tries to twist in Storm Breaker’s arms, but you and Jihoon tighten even further. Fang Striker’s sword glints in the sunlight as it unsheathes. 
“Don’t stab us,” you say at the same exact time that Jihoon has the thought.
They almost do. Fang Striker buries the sword through the back of the kaiju, the tip of the blade peaking through its chest, almost scraping against Storm Breaker’s stomach. The monster thrashes wildly for a few minutes, clawing at Storm Breaker’s hull. Fang Striker hits the release on their sword, leaving it embedded in the kaiju’s back to stand and fire into the kaiju with plasma cannons. 
Jihoon feels the tremor of the shots land. There’s a final kick from the kaiju before it slumps, putting all of its deadweight on Storm Breaker. In unison, you and Jihoon throw the creature off of you. It lands with a crash, water surging around the creature as its weight drags it down before buoyancy pulls it back up.
Storm Breaker straightens, standing in the open water with a battered Fang Striker a couple of yards away. Panting, Jihoon looks across the Conn-pod where you’re already looking at him, shield on your helmet up as you grin at him. There is unguarded happiness there, nearly as bright as the sun that glints off Storm Breaker’s helm. 
“So,” you ask the group. “Can we get hashbrowns now?”
Jihoon realizes at that moment he doesn’t dislike you at all. 
-
“Would you slow down?” Jihoon asks, setting his tray down next to you roughly. He plops in the seat next to you, giving you a severe side eye. “You’re going to throw up the second you hit the treadmill eating that fast.”
“I want to get more bacon before they run out,” you whine. “They won’t make more once it’s gone.”
Uncovering the top of his tray, Jihoon reveals a heap of bacon slices. You oggle as he sets it between the two of you, shaking his head and scoffing. “Yeah,” he huffs. “I know. I brought more, so slow down.”
Affection for your co-pilot warms you. The affection is certainly one-sided, but you don’t mind. In the four months you’ve been co-piloting with Jihoon, he still hasn’t opened up to you.
Despite having made the drop five times together, Jihoon still brings almost nothing to the drift. You catch pieces of him, tiny snippets of memories or emotions or thoughts as you become one. You slowly use them to fit together the pieces of the Jihoon puzzle you’ve been working on every day. 
It helps that you live in such close proximity, too. Jihoon’s habits speak far more for them than his words ever could. Like the way he wakes up at the same exact time every day and tries to be asleep at the same time every night, or the way he meticulously cleans your shared living space every Sunday, or the way he starts every sparring session with the same eight-stretch sequence.
He still doesn’t talk about him in your time slotted for getting to know one another. It’s not therapy exactly, but every pilot team has designated time daily to talk things out. To work through things that are bothering them, or to talk about themselves. The more pilots know one another, the better they fight.
You know virtually nothing about Jihoon. He doesn’t talk about himself during sessions, so you talk for him. You tell him about your childhood, about piloting with your mom, about how much you miss Maya. He eventually starts asking questions. Provides responses.
“We’re on the drop schedule tomorrow,” Jihoon notes, flicking through his tablet on the table next to him. “It’s graveyard shift. Do you want me to ask Mingyu and Wonwoo to switch to the day shift?” 
“Nah, I’ll be fine.”
He gives you a critical look. “You’re awful in the mornings.” 
“Not when I’m fighting.” You snatch more bacon. “Would you rather me or Mingyu in a jaeger at two in the morning?”
“Point taken.” Both of you know the only person more miserable than you in the morning is Kim Mingyu. Jihoon nudges you with your elbow and gestures to the bacon. “Finish up. We have to workout soon.” 
“Ugh.”
He smirks. “Cardio day.”
“Ji, no.”
He ignores the nickname. “So much running.”
Now you know he’s doing it on purpose. There are few things in your training schedule that bring Jihoon joy like torturing you during scheduled workouts. He had started slating them each day, determined to harden your conditioning despite the fact that you’re already in decent shape.
Decent is a word in his vocabulary. He only expects perfection and even then, you’re pretty sure it’s unattainable. Still, you finish your breakfast and let him lead you to the gym, peppering him with whining and protests the entire way. He ignores them with a placid smile, hands linked behind his back as he walks. 
When you get to the gym, there are other pilots and workers using their free time to exercise. There’s only a single treadmill open, which Jihoon gets on easily. You start to edge your way toward yoga mats with the intention of not working out at all when he leans over to look at the time on the treadmill next to him. 
“You’ve been on it for an hour,” he grunts at some boy who looks like a cadet. “Off you go.”
The cadet scrambles off, almost forgetting to turn the treadmill off before he does. He bows in respect before shooting off like a frightened school of fish. Jihoon turns to you, grinning as he pats the machine. “For you.” 
“Thanks,” you deadpan. “Just what I’ve always wanted.” 
Jihoon’s grin only grows when you step onto the treadmill as he leans over the rail and turns it on, pressing the incline and speed buttons until you’re walking at a warm up pace. Which, for Jihoon, is a solid jog. 
As you jog, you fish out headphones from your pocket. You pop them in your ears, careful not to trip as the sound of classical fills your ears. You’ve taken to using Jihoon’s playlists, despite originally making fun of him for it. You find that it distracts you more than you thought it would, and it helps that you feel like a character in a fantasy movie running to an epic soundtrack.
You’ve adopted a lot of things that Jihoon does. It happens naturally, especially the more you drift. You find yourself putting on Mozart instead of Tchaikovsky or taking your coffee black on accident or scolding others in the training room for not being precise and perfect. 
Ghost Drifting is what some call it. You don’t think you’re quite there yet, being that Jihoon still hides half of himself away. But sometimes, even outside of the drift, you feel him in your mind like a phantom presence. 
After your workout, you go through the same day you have everyday: meditate back to back, sparring, and your talking session, which mostly consists of you both sitting next to one another looking over your drop footage and noting areas for improvement. 
Jihoon’s shoulder is pressed against yours, his eyes focused on the tablet in your hands, tracking the slowed down movement of the video. He taps the screen, pointing to the right side of the jaeger that he pilots. “I was a bit slow here.” 
“It’s not your reaction time, you’d never punch that slow. That’s the arm that took damage two fights ago against Razorbill. Let’s talk to the J-Tech team and see if there’s a delay in the receptor. It might be a split second off.” He snorts and you glance sidelong at him. “What?”
“You don’t think I’d punch slow?”
“No.” 
Jihoon raises his brows. You can feel his surprise at your seriousness to his question. He obviously expected you to turn it into a harmless jab, but you mean it when you say, “Your reaction time has been perfect for the last sixteen drops you’ve made. If there’s a delay, it’s the machinery. Not you.”
He looks away from you, nodding once. The tips of his ears are red and he mutters, “Thanks.” 
Instead of pressing the matter like you want to, you smile and hit play again, both of you focusing on the screen once more to talk through the remainder of your allotted bonding time. 
In your room, Jihoon turns on the speakers, the sound of Pas de Deux from the Nutcracker floods the room. You pause by the wardrobe where you’re shucking your boots off, gazing at Jihoon as he moves into the kitchen silently, taking out two mugs, a box of peppermint tea and a kettle. 
He doesn’t feel your eyes on him, going about making tea for the both of you. He hums along to the song - you don’t know when he became so familiar with it, his movements comfortable. Practiced. Relaxed. A swell of affection overtakes you, realizing you don’t know when he started making you tea. Or putting on Tchaikovsky for you. Or not biting at you every two seconds. 
Sensing your gaze, he turns to look at you over his shoulder. You turn away from him, busying yourself with your boots to spare him from making an excuse as to why he’s making you tea. Because you’ll know he’ll give one, provide you with some sort of excuse that it isn’t a favor or because you’re friends, but rather something like the tea bags are too large for one or I have to boil the water anyway. 
When you’re done changing for bed, he’s standing next to you, mug extended. He doesn’t look at you, instead finding interest in the cameras outside the Shatterdome. You take the mug from him and say nothing, knowing he’d rather you not thank him. 
Mug in hand, you climb carefully into the top bunk, crossing your legs as you nestle the mug next to you, pulling out your tablet to read. He gets into bed without a word, both of you existing in comfortable silence, just like Jihoon prefers. 
-
Alarms wrench you from sleep. You’re thrown forward in your bed, red flashing on the TV as the kaiju alert system wails. You wipe sleep from your face as you haul yourself over the edge of the bunk, landing next to Jihoon who is pulling off his sweats in favor of cargo pants as quickly as he can. You feel dizzy and off balance as you do the same, shoving one foot in your pants and hopping on one leg as your foot catches while trying to shove in the other.
Jihoon grabs you by the elbow, holding you steady as you shove your foot through the leg of your pants and shoot him a grateful look. He nods, letting you go to finish zipping his pants and digging around for a shirt. He can’t seem to find one, cursing under his breath as he roots around. You toss him one of yours instead, grabbing a pair of socks and throwing yourself onto his bunk to yank them on, quickly followed by shoes. 
“Fuck,” Jihoon mutters as he looks up at the screen, the red painting him in hellish light. “We’ve got a Cat-4. They’re dropping Emperor’s Mandate and Fang Striker with us.” 
“Dino and Wylie weren’t even on rotation.” 
“They’re not making the same mistake they did with Solar Saber.” He pulls out a tablet, squinting against the glow. “We're the last line of defense. Hao and Jun will take point with Fang Striker.” 
“Got it. Let’s go.”
You take off at a jog, easily keeping pace with one another as you go. There are jaeger teams moving about the building getting ready, the alarms still sounding as you navigate to the jaeger bay. Your team is already there and ready to fit you into Drivesuits, sliding each piece of armor on with practiced care. 
Jihoon catches your eyes from where he stands across from you, letting a team member slide his hand into a metal glove. His eyes are dark as the stormy sea outside, a bottomless well that you can’t seem to dive down into, but want to. His lips twitch a little and he gives you a nod, which you’ve come to understand is Jihoon for I trust you. 
Screens blink to life as you enter the Conn-Pod. Closing the front shield of your helmet, you immediately turn on open comms, listening as the Marshall and LOCCENT Controller on duty - you think it’s Nainsi - talking Minghao and Junhui through their neural handshake. 
The spine of your Drivesuit connects to the Conn-pod, your heads up display coming to life. You feel the metal whirring and clicking into place, rotating your shoulders and flexing your fingers as your jaeger team finishes connecting Jihoon to the Conn-pod before exciting and shutting the door firmly.
“Storm Breaker ready to drop,” Jihoon announces. 
“Engaging pilot to pilot connection protocol sequence,” Nainsi answers. “Engaging neural handshake in three… two… one…”
It’s like jumping off a cliff into freezing cold water. You feel the flash of cold, vision going white for a split second before you feel Jihoon’s calm flow through you. He’s steady like an icy river, his thoughts, feelings and emotions hidden down in their dark depth where they can’t bother either of you.
You’re like rapids, rushing thoughts and feelings, pouring everything through the drift at him. He takes it in stride, used to the white-capped rush of information he gets from you each time you connect. Jihoon adjusts easily, already hitting buttons on his screen as images from your day flash through your mind - including you watching him make you tea in the kitchen.
Jihoon says nothing about that. He says nothing about the gentle wave of your embarrassment either as Nainsi says, “Neural handshake strong and holding.”
Chan’s voice crackles through comms. “Fang Striker on standby for neural handshake.”
“Copy. Storm Breaker prepare for drop in three… two… one.”
Dropping feels like falling through the core of the earth. For a few moments, it’s a flightless feeling as you fall through the Shatterdome. Then you land, knees absorbing impact as the head of the jaeger falls into the neck socket, locking in.
“Calibrating right side,” Jihoon announces. “Calibrated.”
“Calibrating left side. Calibrated. Ready to engage.” 
Nainsi confirms calibration and directs, “Storm Breaker, take north point defense two miles from the shoreline. Hold that line. Fang Striker, engaging in pilot to pilot connection protocol sequence in three… two… one.” 
You tune out the rest of Fang Striker’s drop as you and Jihoon behind to charge into the bay. The windshield in front of you immediately froths with sea salt and wind, battering down on the jaeger as the night sea surges against Storm Breaker’s legs. You cut through the water like a knife, carving your way toward the defense line as the jumphawk team flies into place. 
“Five minutes until surface breach.” 
“Oh! Hi, Vernon,” you chirp. 
“Sup?”
“Would kill for a coffee right now. And like, a bagel. Or hashbrowns?” 
Vernon groans. “Mood.” 
Jihoon snorts but says nothing. Minghao’s voice comes over the comms, soft and cool. “Blue, everytime I drop with you you’re talking about food.” 
“Have you considered that Ji doesn't feed me?” 
“So it’s Ji now, huh?”
“Don’t get her started,” Jihoon grunts at Minghao’s teasing. “One mile out from the line of defense.”
Chan joins the conversation, voice chipper. “Fang Striker ready to pursue. Also, good morning everyone!” 
Everyone groans in misery collectively instead of greeting him back. Wylie’s voice cracks like a whip as she spits out, “Be nice to him.” 
Everyone greets Chan after that. Jihoon shakes his head, amused. “Fang Striker, escort Emperor’s Mandate to engage. Four minutes until surface breach.” 
Black ocean ripples outward in front of Storm Breaker as you move. You near the defense line, the city lights like a sea of stars at Storm Breaker’s back. Air support circles overhead, monitoring kaiju activity and helping with positioning. You see the spotlights glinting on the surface, waiting for a kaiju to surface. 
To the east of your position, Fang Striker and Emperor’s Mandate cut through the water. Fang Striker’s red paint is violent against the night, but her build is small next to the towering white fury of Minghao and Junhui’s jaeger. 
“Storm Breaker in position,” Jihoon calls. You both stop moving, your jaeger coming to a standstill as the water sloshes around your waist. 
“Standby, Storm Breaker. Kaiju breach in one minute.” 
“Emperor’s Mandate and Fang Striker in position. Ready to engage.” 
“Engage at your discretion.” 
Comms go silent as the strike team waits for the kaiju to appear. It’s the calm before the storm, the silence pregnant with tension. You feel a tentative brush of Jihoon’s thoughts against you. You turn and glance at him, surprised. 
Jihoon is watching you with a stormy expression, thoughtful. “You thinking about letting me in that big ass head of yours?” You tease, just in your personal comms. 
He smirks and shakes his head, breaking eye contact to look out the front of Storm Breakers cockpit. “Not a chance.” 
It’s a lie. You know it's a lie because you feel it is as sure as you feel your own glittering satisfaction that he’s thinking about it. That Jihoon is considering opening the door for you, even a fraction. 
Your satisfaction only lasts a second as the kaiju breaches the surface in front of Emperor’s Mandate and Fang Striker. You watch in strained silence as the jumphawk team begins reporting what they can about the makeup of the kaiju.
Emperor’s Mandate engages immediately, their metal saber chain shooting from the right arm and punching through the shoulder of the kaiju. An electromagnetic pulse goes down the chain and it goes taught like a sword as Junhui slices upward, attempting to sever the kaiju’s arm. 
The kaiju lands a hard punch to Emperor’s Mandate in the middle, sending them backward into the ocean as the chain-turned-sword pulls out as they fall. Fang Striker is there before the kaiju can attack again, charging and tackling the kaiju at the waist. She’s not built for heavy fighting, but Chan and Wylie are vicious, clawing at the kaiju with their metal claws. 
“Fang Striker, roll!” Minghao orders. Fang Stricker does, using the kaiju as weight to rock themselves over and under the creature, vanishing beneath the water’s surface as Emperor’s Mandate lands a punch to the kaiju’s back with a plasmacaster, turning the night blue as the sparks flare. “Push and we’ll pull.”
Salt spray mists the windshield as you and Jihoon watch in silence. The kaiju is a massive, hulking beast with spikes down its spine and a nasty club tail that catches Fang Striker in the knees, taking her down. The two jaeger teams work in flawless tandem, punching when the other ducks, tackling with the other falls. 
In a way, it’s beautiful to watch the fury of what a jaeger can do. Your lips twitch upward as the fight starts to go their way, Emperor’s Mandate severing the leg of the monster as Fang Striker pounces on it, sinking both clawed hands into its shoulder blades and tearing through its hide. 
“Storm Breaker-” Vernon’s panicked voice gets cut off as your world turns upside down. 
You feel yourself slam against the restraints of the Conn-pod connecting you to the jaeger. A surprised shriek escapes you as you flip head-over-feet in Storm Breaker, crashing into the ocean with a violent slam. A kaiju raises itself from the water, rearing its head like a cobra as it shrieks, the sound shaking the entire hull. 
“What the fuck?” Jihoon screams over comms. Storm Breaker rolls as the kaiju strikes like a snake, barely missing you as it hits empty water. “Where the fuck did that come from?”
“There was no reading!” Vernon yells back. “The signature appeared a half second before it attacked like it had some sort of stealth mode!” 
“Kaiju don’t have fucking stealth mode, Vernon!”
“Maybe it got an iOS update man, I don’t know!” 
There’s no time to care about why or how a kaiju isn’t appearing on the reporting team’s screen. Whatever level it is, it’s fast. You and Jihoon get to your feet just as it strikes again, fangs striking at the windshield. It doesn’t crack, but the sound of kaiju bone against the glass isn’t promising.
Storm Breaker stumbles back a few steps before regaining footing. You both strike with your right fist, slamming into the neck area of the beast as it winds up to strike again. It looks like a massive cobra, coils and coils of kaiju body gathering each time it tries. 
A shudder vibrates through the jaeger as the punch lands, sending the kaiju back several hundred yards. You don’t give it a moment to recover, both of you charging as you equip short swords perfect for close-combat fighting and slicing. 
“I think it’s too fast to pick up a reading,” you shout over comms. “It moves so quickly!”
Fighting is a careful rhythm. You and Jihoon find it immediately, tuning out the sound of the other fight as you zero in on your target. It doesn’t matter that the kaiju took you by surprise, it doesn’t matter that Jihoon still hasn’t let you in, it doesn’t matter that somewhere, you have other friends in just as much danger.
What matters is this. The feeling of rage that flows from Jihoon - or maybe it’s you - as you both savagely plunge a sword in the serpent body of your enemy. What matters is the way you and Jihoon flow, two rivers with the same curves and dips, sliding around the kaiju as you strike again, spraying ichor into the sea. 
Storm Breaker’s sword extends from the right arm, reflecting the city lights briefly before you cut sideways. The blade slides clean through like a knife through paper. You and Jihoon both scream savagely in unison as the head flies separate from the body, sailing in the air for a moment before crashing into the surface as blood spurts from the main body. 
It flails for a moment longer before crashing under ocean froth and water. Victory surges through you and you look across the Conn-pod where Jihoon is grinning at you, stars in his eyes. You feel a moment of elation, laughter bubbling to your lips as Nainsi recalls you to the Dome, Emperor’s Mandate and Fang Striker standing victorious.
“That’s kill number six?” Jihoon asks, voice delighted. “We’re on a fucking roll.” 
“I guess I’m not so bad a co-pilot after all, right?” He rolls his eyes but you get the feeling the tips of his ears have turned red. “Come on, Ji. Tell me I’m a good co-pilot.”
“No way.”
“Come onnnn.”
He levels a look at you, dark eyes churning. He licks his lips, opening and closing his mouth before he finally murmurs, “Can I show you instead?” 
The left foot of Storm Breaker is yanked from under you. You go down screaming, feeling the impact of the seafloor as you go down in the shallows hard. Pain shoots up your left arm as you slam against the restraints keeping you attached to the Conn-pod. Lights flash in your heads up display and a sensor starts going off, the left arm of the jaeger going dead as it loses connection. 
Jihoon is screaming your name over comms as you grit your teeth, and gather your bearings. You suck in a sharp breath as you both scramble to get Storm Breaker on her feet. “Left arms gone cold,” Jihoon yells over comms. You manage to get Storm Breaker to her feet as you both throw out your right arm, bracing for impact as the kaiju’s head strikes again. “It grew back two fucking heads!” 
“Fang Striker pursuing!” It’s Chan voice over the comms. “Three miles out from contact.” 
One of the heads strikes at the helm again, knocking into Storm Breaker hard. Your world rocks as you shove with the full force of the right side of the jaeger, thrusters turning on as you launch the kaiju and its twin heads backward. 
“How the fuck do we kill this thing?” you screech, charging toward the creature as it slides through the water, coiling to strike again. “If we cut off its head again, it’s just going to grow another.”
“Stab it through the head? I don’t fucking know!”
Snatches of panic and anger and concern seize you for a split second, it feels like your own but you realize it’s not, Jihoon’s feelings bleeding into you like a fresh wound as you strike at the kaiju again. Its tail loops around the left leg again and Jihoon’s worry spikes, so raw and unfamiliar that when he lifts his foot, you don’t lift yours. 
Storm Breaker stalls, filled with mechanic screeching as the two of you clash in the drift in a moment of indecision. A storm of emotions batters down on you. Your lungs squeeze as you feel yourself torn away from the fight and into Jihoon’s memories, each one flitting by so fast you can barely resonate with them. 
A little boy bullied by bigger kids. A woman being torn out of a home screaming in the hand of a kaiju. The sound of Mozart drowning out the screams of destruction. Young Jihoon crying in his room alone, nursing bruised ribs and knees. Teenage Jihoon fighting back. A man named Haneul that has seen all of Jihoon’s scars. 
“... out of alignment!” 
Words crash through you as you feel a tremor go through Storm Breaker. Jihoon’s thoughts are like a hurricane tearing at your foundation. 
Hatred when he meets you for the first time. Pride when he makes his first successful drop. Grief when Haneul retired. Resentment when he’s reassigned to a new pilot. 
Jihoon screams your name but you are drowning in him. Jihoon’s emotional dam has broken and years worth of who he is comes out in a torrent.
Jihoon joins the pilot program because he wants to get away from the home. The smell of books and oil lanterns. Greasy fingers and fumes. A blue mat rushing up to meet him as he falls. 
“Emperor’s Mandate two miles out. Preparing to engage!” 
Bitter coffee. Celebrating Haneul’s birthday. The sting of Chan biting him mid spar. Pretending he didn’t hate his childhood. Hiding the scared little boy behind a controlled exterior. 
“She’s chasing the rabbit!” 
Chasing the rabbit. You hear the word and vaguely realize you’ve fallen down the rabbit hole of Jihoon’s memories and emotions, completely unused to them in a space where you’re connected intimately. You try to gather your bearings, shutting down the images flashing across your mind that don’t belong to you as Storm Breaker gets rocked again. 
“Shit,” Jihoon swears. “Blue, come on. Come back to me. I’m sorry. Don’t chase my memories!”
A kite against a blue sky. Two paper boats on a lake. Your smile as you hang upside down off the bunk bed. Soonyoung giving Jihoon a birthday cake. Wylie in a hospital bed. Jeonghan and Joshua accepting pilots of the year. 
“I’m sorry,” Jihoon whispers, both in your mind and outloud. “Come back.”
You can do this. You can withstand the storm of Jihoon’s consciousness. You shake him out of your head, sorting out your thoughts and his. It’s nearly impossible to understand where you end and he begins, but you manage to hold back the wake of his uncontrolled consciousness.
Blinking, you come back to the present. There are lights and warnings going off as Storm Breaker takes another strike from the kaiju. Fang Striker is taking on its other head, the kaiju splitting focus between two jaeger teams as it tries to split open the top of your jaeger. Wylie and Chan are yelling in comms and Emperor’s Mandate is in pursuit to help you disengage. 
The left arm of your jaeger is still cold, totally disconnected from the rest of the machinery. You run through a list of fighting options with one arm down. The right side of the jaeger is fitted with a sword, explosive and a plasma caster in the first of the hand. But the jaeger overall- 
“Light it up,” you tell Jihoon. His relief crashing into you like a tidal wave. He understands what you want to do immediately. You feel his agreement rather than see it as you both start to tap controls on your control panels. “Fang Striker, prepare for lighting strike!” 
“Fry this motherfucker!” Wylie screams. “I fucking hate snakes!”
The nuclear reactor at the core of your jaeger starts to charge. From the top down, your jaeger begins to power down, lights flickering out and screens going dead. Your heart hammers as the kaiju slams into the head of the jaeger over and over again, trying to crack the helm wide open. Storm Breaker takes the savage blows as all but the nuclear core shuts off.
A low hum begins to sound at the heart of the machine. You feel the vibration tingle in your spine as all of the energy flow focuses in the center of the jaeger, slowly charging and pulling electricity from everywhere else. It’s a slow process, the kaiju beating down on you as the core winds up. 
“Fuck,” Jihoon swears at a particularly harsh strike. “This fucking bitch!”
“We’ve got it,” you tell him. You look across the Conn-pod at him, his face pale behind the shield of his helmet. “She’s not going to break, Ji.” 
You feel your words resonate in him. His affection is startling. He hides nothing from you now, every thought he’s ever had of you, every moment his eyes lingered on you too, every second he realized he didn’t dislike you at all - it’s all there for you to see. His soul laid bare. 
“She’s ready!” Your smile is like the sun. “Light her up!” 
Jihoon hits a button on his panel and the air turns to static. A ripple of energy passes through you, only lasting a split second before a bolt of white lightning explodes from the center of the jaeger. The world turns white, forcing you to shield your eyes as you hear the crack of deafening thunder. 
Ears ringing, you lower your hand as the light fades, blue sparks of electricity zapping across the ocean in a mile-wide radius. Smoking, the kaiju falls backwards, ocean spraying up on either side as it hits the surface of the sea. You can barely hear Fang Striker over the sound of the high-pitched whine in your ears.
You wait, but the kaiju doesn’t rise again. The jumphawk team circles above, waiting for another kaiju signature, but none comes. 
Sagging in your Conn-pod, you glance over at Jihoon. “Does that count as one or two kills? I’m so fucking over monster fighting today. I want a goddamn grilled cheese.”
-
Jihoon is a wreck. Not only does he visibly hover near your medical bed as the attending medic tends to your arm, ensuring it’s not broken, but you can still feel him like he’s attached to you in the drift. His concern is touching, but there’s also anger there. Not at you but at himself, boiling under the surface of his newfound worry. 
“So she’ll be okay?” he clarifies again, looking at the doctor with a hard stare. The man tending to your arm looks nervous under the sharp gaze of a jaeger pilot. “You’re sure it’s not broken? It better not be broken.”
“Jihoon,” you say gently. He crosses his arms over his chest, not taking his eyes off the doctor as he stares him down. “I’m fine. It’s just some bruising.”
“Just some bruising. Your arm practically fell off.”
“It did not. Let the doctor finish, Ji.”
He softens, turning to sit on an empty cot as he sulks. You watch him with muted amusement. His bottom lip juts out slightly, put out by you not letting him baby you. Cute, you think. 
Thankfully, the arm isn’t damaged. You’d bruised it pretty severely when Storm Breaker went down and you slammed against your restraints, but otherwise you’re unharmed. Some pain meds, ice and rest should do the trick, so you and Jihoon leave the medical bay with the doctor’s advice in hand and Jihoon muttering under his breath.
Back in your room, Jihoon sits you on his bottom bunk to examine the arm himself, holding you carefully as though he can break you at any moment. You let him have this, watching as his eyebrows crease and mouth twists while he rotates your arm delicately.
He has pretty hands. You’ve always thought so, but now you watch his slender fingers brush over your sore arm with care, feeling a shiver threaten the base of your spine. 
“You should ask for a reassignment.” Jihoon’s words land like a brick. You look up at him, eyes flashing with confusion. “I nearly killed you today. It was unprofessional and shameful as your co-pilot to knock you out of alignment like that. You don’t deserve that.”
“It happens, Jihoon. Fighting in a jaeger isn’t always perfect.”
“Well I am. And today I wasn’t. Request a new pilot, the Marshall will understand. People don’t last with me, it’ll be no risk to you.”
“I’m not requesting a new pilot. You’re who I want to drift with.”
He starts to pace. “Why? I’m obviously still that scared little boy who used to hide in his room alone.” 
Even without having felt his emotions in the drift, Jihoon makes so much more sense to you now. You reach out to him, taking him by the arms to stop his pacing. He won’t look at you, averting his eyes elsewhere. Your heart squeezes knowing that the reason Jihoon kept you out is because he didn’t want you to see who he was before he was the controlled, perfect jaeger pilot. 
“You’re not, Jihoon.” You squeeze his arm to emphasize your words. “But even if you were, I trust that little boy too. He was empathetic and kind.” Jihoon glances at you, unsure. “Don’t run away from me now that you’ve let me in. I’ve seen you and I still want you. Unless you don’t want me.”
“Of course I do.”
“It’s hard to tell with you, you know?”
His gaze drops down to your mouth. “I’ll show you, then.” 
Without another word, Jihoon grabs you by the waist and pulls you to him fully. Your arms slip around his neck, holding onto him for balance as he crashes his mouth to yours. His lips are warm and soft in contrast to the ferocity he kisses you with, fingers digging into your hips, mouth hungry. 
You meet him with equal fervor, fingers tangling in the long hair at the nape of his neck. He grunts when your nails scratch against his scalp, biting into your lower lip. He presses his tongue to the seam of your mouth and you let him in, sighing as his tongue brushes against yours, eager to taste you.
Kissing Jihoon is like standing in the eye of a storm. He’s brutal and calm, sharp and soft. His heart beats against yours, his chest heaving when he pulls away from your mouth to press wet kisses to the shape of your jaw and down your throat.
One of Jihoon’s hands slides up your back, fingers dancing along your spine until he reaches the base of your neck. He grabs you firmly, pulling your head back to give him better access to the softness of your throat. You let out a breathy sound and he groans low in his throat. 
“Don’t make that sound,” he whispers, biting your neck gently and chasing the sting with his tongue. “I’ll fucking crumble.” 
“So crumble.” 
“Fuck.”
Jihoon starts pushing you backward, your steps a tangle of feet. It might be the most uncoordinated the two of you have ever been, caught up in the heat of each other’s mouths as he kisses you feverishly again. It’s messy and spit-slicked, making you light headed. Your knees hit his bottom bunk and you crash backward, Jihoon on top of you. 
Your hands seek the warmth of his skin, sliding under the hem of his shirt over his flexing stomach to his firm chest. He lets you rake your nails across him as he settles on top of you, his hands planted on either side of your head and a knee slotted between your legs. 
Having him this close is everything. Months of not being able to have him entirely or the way you want has made you ravenous for him. You pull at his shirt, nipping at his lip and whining. He laughs darkly, leaning up from you to grab the back of his shirt and pull it up over his head. 
He lets you do what you want, content to let you run your fingers over the ridges of his stomach, the narrow shape of his waist, the firmness of his chest. He dives back down to attach his mouth to your collarbone, pulling the neckline of your shirt out of the way for access.
“Just take it off,” you complain, shivering as he continues his assault.
“Mmmf - difficult.”
This is not the composed Jihoon you’re used to. This is the raw, unedited version of him you’ve been begging to see. This is the storm letting loose because he knows you can take it - want to take it.
Jihoon does get tired of your shirt, growling as he grabs it firmly and tears it up and over your head. You laugh as he does, loving the way he scowls and presses you back down, biting your jaw as he does. He palms your tits over your bra, pinching your nipples through the fabric. You squeal and arch into him, head pressing into the mattress.
“Don’t laugh at me,” he huffs, mouth trailing butterfly-soft kisses toward your chest. 
“Sensitive?” you jest, dropping a hand between your bodies to press against the front of his pants. He hisses, hips twitching as you press against his cock. You grin wickedly as he pants raggedly against your skin, letting you squeeze him. “Yeah, you are.” 
Jihoon drags his knee up the bed, pressing between your legs. A bolt of pleasure surges through you and you whimper, making him smirk against your chest. “What was that?” 
“Nothing.”
He drops a hand down to your waist, squeezing. “Didn’t sound like nothing. Come on,” he urges. “You know you want to.” 
So you do. You roll your hips forward, pressing your clothed cunt against his thigh. The layers of clothes block too much of the sensation and you press harder, desperate for stimulation. A whine drips from your mouth as you grow frustrated. You feel the curve of Jihoon’s smile against the curve of your left breast as he places a wet kiss there. 
“Having a hard time?”
“Jihoon.”
One hand stays fixed on your hips, urging you to continue to grind into him despite it not being enough. The other slides up your front, his fingers light as feathers. He hooks a finger in the cup of your bra and pulls downward. He drags his mouth downward, giving your nipple a playful flick with his tongue. 
“Jihoon.” 
He hums thoughtfully, circling your pert bud with his tongue. A tremor goes through you and you squeeze your eyes shut. He closes his mouth on you and sucks gently, making you gasp. You continue to roll your hips into him as he scrapes his teeth against you gently. 
Cool air hits your spit-slicked chest as he kisses sloppily over to your other breast, repeating his ministrations. It feels so good you feel like you’re going to lose your mind. His skin is hot against yours and you’re desperate to feel more of him, hands pulling at his shoulders as he sucks wet marks into your chest. 
“More,” you whisper. “God, please more.” 
He knows what you mean when you say more because of course he does. He rids you of your bra entirely, throwing it somewhere else in the room. He works the buttons on your pants next, deft fingers moving quickly before tugging them down your thighs. He lets you pull his cargos down and throw them, but it’s as far as you get before he’s lavishing attention to your tits again. 
“Try now,” he pants. 
His knee is pressed right against the apex of your thighs. You don’t care that he can feel the damp cloth against his skin. You slow grind on his knee, feeling the pressure infinitely better with just a thin layer of underwear between you. A sigh of relief escapes you and he grunts, pleased as you keep going, thighs shaking. 
You could drown in him and not care. He smells like spearmint and soap, his hair soft as silk as it slides between your fingers. He gives a sound of approval everytime you card your hands through his hair, especially when he gives you a sharp bite and you tug. 
A tingle settles in the depth of your stomach. You feel like you could almost come this way, getting off with just his leg between your thighs and his mouth sucking greedily at your tits. You feel yourself tighten, hips pressing further but it’s not quite enough.
He reads you like a book. Jihoon slides his knee back and replaces it with his hand, fingers delicately pressing against your clit. It makes you see stars, going rigid in his grasp as he gently circles it a few times before dragging his fingers back down to press at your core through your underwear. 
“So god damn wet,” he lets go of your nipple with a pop. He hooks a finger through your underwear and pulls them to the side, his knuckles brushing your sticky folds. “So pretty for me.” 
His compliment makes you shy. You hide your face behind your hands and he laughs darkly, letting you. He’s already seen all of you in the drift, but this is different. More personal. Real. 
The press of a finger into your cunt is slow and maddening. You immediately want more, desperate for it. He doesn’t give it to you right away, taking his time as he busies his mouth with your chest and neck, content to finger fuck you at a leisurely pace. 
When he hooks his finger and presses right into that soft spot, you seize up. He grins, finding exactly what he was looking for. His mouth catches yours again, a tangle of tongue and teeth as he presses another finger in. You squirm against the mattresses, pinned under his weight. The heel of his hand presses into your clit, adding pressure as he strokes your front walls rhythmically. 
You’re greedy for him. You suck his tongue into your mouth and he moans, letting you do what you want. The wet squelch of his hand between your legs only spurs you on, his name dripping from your lips in a whine as you cling to him, feeling the start of your orgasm.
Jihoon knows it’s coming. His pace is more intent and he shuffles up the bed to get a better angle. Your toes curl and you writhe against the sheets, feeling the way they stick to your balmy skin as he works you closer and closer to an orgasm. 
He presses a soft kiss under your ear, chaste compared to the mess he makes of your cunt. “Come on,” his voice is husky and gentle. “Let go for me.”
It’s his for me that sends you over the edge. Your legs squeeze around his hand but he keeps at it, pressing tender kisses to your collarbones as you twitch under his touch. Your orgasm starts to wane and turn into overstimulation, your panting turning into whimpering, nails digging into the back of his neck, unsure if you’re trying to push him away or keep him there.
Jihoon retracts his hand slowly. You feel the way you drip down the curve of your ass as you pant, staring up at the bottom of your bunk trying to gulp down air. He nudges his nose against your jaw, bringing your attention back to the present as his dark eyes look up at you.
Your voice comes out rough from use. “Want you.”
The corner of his mouth lifts and he nods, lifting himself off you to let you peel your underwear the rest of the way down as he works his briefs down his thighs. You let out a squeak when you look up to see him using the cum on his fingers to stroke himself, head tilted back a little, eyes heavy. 
“What?” he murmurs, dropping his gaze down to you. His eyes are fucked out just from getting you off and it drives you insane, this visual of him blotchy with warmth, hair sticking to his forehead.
“You’re so hot,” you blurt and he pauses, raising a brow at you. “Don’t stop.” 
“You like when I touch myself in front of you?” You nod, chewing on your lip as you stare. He grins and starts stroking himself slowly again, squeezing his flushed tip as he does, beads of precum dripping over the edge. “I’ll give you a show later. If I don’t fuck you in the next five minutes I will nut in my hand.” 
“I mean, I wouldn’t hate it.” 
“Oh? You want me to cum in my hand instead of that pretty pussy?” You purse your lips, staring back at him with a pout. “Didn’t think so.” He laughs and shuffles on his knees toward you, shaking his head and groaning when your legs fall open automatically for him, revealing the mess he’s made. “Can’t believe I made myself wait for this.” 
“How stupid of you.”
Your stomach flutters when Jihoon lowers himself, cockhead pressing at your entrance. You ache for him - in more ways than one. Jihoon feels it too, hanging his head and letting his hair cascade around his face like a silvery halo as he slowly presses in. 
His name falls from your mouth as you gasp, feeling the pressure of him as he sinks into your cunt slowly. You feel full and overwhelmed and perfect all at once, a myriad of feelings peppering your senses until he’s fully sheathed to the hilt. 
Jihoon’s breathing is ragged for a moment as you clench around him, throbbing. He sucks in air sharply between his teeth, one hand going to your hip to press you into the mattress while the other lands next to your head, bearing his weight. 
“Thank you for waiting for me.” You almost don’t hear him when he says it, his voice so soft. “When you didn’t have to.”
Your arms loop around his neck, pulling him closer. His nose brushes against yours and you feel your adoration for him grow. “Of course I did. You were meant for me.” 
Prompted by your words, he nods and pulls his hips back slowly. The glide is easy with how wet you are. He thrusts back in with a hard snap, stealing your breath. The ability to string together coherent words vanishes as Jihoon sets a punctuated space. 
“Fuck,” you whisper. 
Fuck is right. Jihoon angles his hips perfectly, kissing your spot with each thrust with a deadly precision you’ve only seen in battle. Of course he fucks like he fights with absolute accuracy, driving you right toward an orgasm within a few minutes. Your fingers tangle in your hair, mouth pressed against his forehead where it rests against you. 
His hand slides from your hips to your thigh, slipping under it and hiking it upward. It deepens the angle and you let out a loud sound, unable to catch your breath as sparks fly behind your eyelids.
“Holy shit, like that.” You’re a mess under him and he knows it, driving his hips faster as you continue to fall apart. “Fuck fuck fuck fuck.”
“Yeah?” he asks, almost taunting. “Gonna come like this?”
“Yes, please don’t stop.”
And he doesn’t. He keeps going, driving you to the edge until you’re coming around him with enough force to knock heads with him. He mumbles something that sound like ouch but you’re too far gone, squeezing the fucking life out of him as you come before going boneless. 
Jihoon pulls out and flips you, your world spinning as you land face first in his pillows. They smell like him and you love it, sliding your hands up to grip at the pillows as he drags your knees up, ass toward him. Sweat slicks your back and you try to take in a few ragged breaths, turning your head to the side to watch him sidelong. 
His dark eyes dip to your ass and he curses, shifting backward so that he can lean down, hands prying your thighs apart to make way for his tongue as it slides up your pussy. 
“Oh shit,” you wheeze. 
He practically purrs against you, tongue licking slowly back and forth. The grip on his pillows tightens, one of your hands shooting back to grab his hair, holding him to you. He laughs, the vibration going straight through you as he sucks your clit into his mouth, tongue flicking over it. 
“I love when you pull my hair,” he admits, panting as he takes a breath. 
His tongue dives back in, pressing against your clenching hole. It is maddening the way he works you with his mouth. You feel like you’re coasting to another high. He knows exactly what to do, knows when to slow down, knows when to speed up. Jihoon has had access to you for months and it shows, navigating your body like it’s second nature to him.
“I’m gonna come again.” It comes out as a whine, fingers twisting in his locks. “Shit.”
“So come again.” 
You do. It’s not as hard as the first one but it’s just as good, your orgasm shivering through you. Warmth floods you and you bite into his pillow, muting the loud sound that spills from your lips. 
Jihoon doesn’t give you a second to recover before he’s up on his knees and pushing back into you. His hand cracks across your ass and you let out a startled yelp, earning laughter from both of you. Spent and delirious, your hand finds purchase on his wrist, holding on to him as he fucks you fast and hard. 
He lets go of where he holds your hip to lace your fingers instead, pressing your linked fingers against the curve of your ass as he drills his hips forward. Somehow the hand holding is more intimate, your throat screwing shut as Jihoon chases after his own high.
With a muted murmur of your name, he comes. His thrusts turn messy, each press of his hips against your ass met with a wet sound. You don’t even care about the slick running down your legs, absolutely spent and sweaty and tired and a little in love with the man behind you.
Slowly, he lets go of your hand. You drop your arm to the mattress, suddenly aware of the ache in your shoulder at the angle. Instead of pulling out, Jihoon leans forward, pressing his sweaty chest to your back, mouth brushing softly against your shoulders. 
“Thank you.” 
You’re so close to sleep that you barely register what he’s saying. “For what?”
“Withstanding the storm,” he laughs. “Withstanding me and waiting me out.”
“You’re worth it.”
“I hope so. I want to be.” 
With care, he detangles himself from you. You make a pitiful sound and he tuts at you, rolling you over on your back so that he can see your face. His eyes swim with more affection than you’ve ever seen, kick starting your heart. You lift a hand and tuck his bangs behind his ear, fingers lingering to brush across his cheek.
“So I’m kind of like your Storm Breaker, right?” 
He groans. “Don’t start.”
“What? You literally just said I withstood the storm or whatever.” 
“Come on, we’re showering.” 
“No way, I am not moving right now.”
“You are not sleeping covered in cum.”
“Ji,” you whine. 
He grins and kisses your head, getting out of bed. “Come on then, storm breaker. Withstand me a little more.” 
-
Also in this Universe: Cherry Bomb by @daechwitatamic
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TAG LIST:
@ourkivee @tie-nn @cookiearmy @thesunsfullmoon @stray-bi-kids
@ldysmfrst @thepoopdokyeomtouched @avochele @kwonshiho
*If you requested a tag but don't see it here, it did not let me tag you!
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alphajocklover · 2 months ago
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InstaJock: Going Viral
**Hey! This is my entry for @occamstfs Viral Transformation Challenge. Congrats on getting 2,000 followers, and thank you for beta reading this and helping me edit it. I hope I can get to 2,000 followers myself one day! For those who are new to my stories, this does connect to the plot established in my blog, but the concept is simple enough you should be able to follow along even if you don't usually read my stuff! I hope you all enjoy!**
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When I talk about the InstaJock App Phenomenon – which I seem to do a lot. What is this, the 17th InstaJock related post? I need to diversify more – I usually talk about the transformation aspects and not the app itself. That’s partially because the transformation is the most interesting and hottest part, but it’s also because I haven’t been able to take a good look at the app. Even with all the protective spells and equipment I have, I can’t use a phone with InstaJock on it for very long without getting an urge to set up an account. 
Until now.
With some help from the devilishly handsome (and literally devilish) Nick, I’ve been able to get my hands on some better equipment and better explore the app. I was able to spend a couple hours on it before I needed to quit, and actually got some very interesting information, mainly about how the app works post-transformation. I had always assumed that once a user got transformed into a jock, they’d ignore the app from then on unless they wanted to change someone. I was very, very wrong, not just about that but about the purpose of the app itself. It’s not just for making people into jocks: it’s for finding the best ones.
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The app generally works like any other social media app, with its members posting about their interests. It’s set up is a lot like Instagram, where pictures and videos are the main format used for posting, but what really makes it different from other social media apps is the content. You can probably guess what an app full of buff cocky jocks looks like, but I’ll confirm it for you: the app is a thirst trap paradise.
The entire app is stuffed with half naked –  and sometimes fully naked – photos of buff jocks, ones of all different kinds. If you can think up a jock related stereotype, they have a full hashtag dedicated to it. Just buff jocks playing sports, flexing and making out with other hot people, for as far. I know that doesn’t sound too different from normal social media apps, as most have a healthy NSFW side, but the posts have more in common then just showing jocks. Each and every post, every one that I saw, mentioned a Master. Some were talking about how they were getting pumped up at the gym for Master, some were talking about how they loved being jocks and were so glad Master had found them, and some were literally begging for Master to notice them, often wantonly describing how they’d debase themselves and be the sluttiest jock ever, all for him. Everyone on the app would post at least once a day about this mysterious Master. It doesn’t seem to matter if the jock is a dom, a sub, a top, a bottom, in a relationship, single, gay or even straight, all of them wanted this mysterious unnamed master – so much so they seemed to completely change personalities whenever he is mentioned. It seems instaJock has an additional side effect I didn’t know about till now: complete and utter devotion to their Master.
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It took me a while, and some covert interviewing of a number of jocks in their DMs, but I think I figured out what's happening. The Jocks aren’t just posting for fun, they’re competing with each other. InstaJock isn’t really a social media app, it’s a sort of ranking app. Every day the jocks log on, post a picture of themselves with a caption somehow related to their Master, and leave likes on some of the other posts, usually the ones they find hot. If a jock’s post gets enough likes though, they get what every jock wants, what all of them are trying to get. They get to Go Viral.
Going Viral on IntsaJock isn’t like going viral on a regular app. It essentially means you’ve gotten enough likes, been reposted enough times, and have become popular enough on the site… that Master has noticed you. That's what the social media part of the app is really for. It’s just a way for Master’s jocks to organize themselves so only the hottest ones show up on his feed. If he really likes you, he’ll do more than just look too. Soon that Jock will disappear from his regular life, never to be seen again, whisked away to become a part of Master’s personal harem. This entire time the app has been about one thing: creating lovestruck sex slaves for the man who created InstaJock.
Like most actual social media apps, InstaJock jumps from one thing to another, and what's viral is always changing. But there are two tags that are always trending on InstaJock. The first, and most popular, is #JockMaster, which is only ever used by this mysterious Master when he makes a post. I’ve seen his account. He never shows his face on it, but from what little of his body that makes it into the photos, he’s… enchanting. As much as I hate to admit it, seeing just a bit of that creep almost made me drool. He usually only posts a couple times a week, as opposed to the jock who posts daily, but everything he posts goes viral on the app in moments. I’ll admit, there's something about his posts that is just… hypnotic. I almost set up an account after seeing one myself, and probably would have if Nick wasn’t there to stop me.
The other tag that's always trending is… more interesting, at least to me. It’s #MastersBoyfriend. It’s another tag used only by Master, and one he uses whenever he posts a picture of one particular member of his harem. 
Whenever he posts pictures… of my Uncle John.
I finally know who took my Uncle. I know who this Master is. I suspected it was him for a while, but now I’m sure. The man who made InstaJock and the man who turned my Uncle into a slutty buff himbo are one in the same. I finally have proof.
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So now what?
**The identity of the person behind InstaJock AND the person behind my Uncle's transformation and kidnapping has finally been revealed! Been working up to this for a long time, and I'm glad to keep this story moving forward! Hope you liked it as much as I do! Thank you to @occamstfs once again for being absolutely awesome and inspiring!**
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lilghostiequinni · 3 months ago
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Your Married?
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Main Masterlist Lando Masterlist
Pairing: wife!female oc (Izara) x Lando Norris
Warnings: Fluffy, Established relationship, Pregnancy talk
Summary: Lando is one to have everything in the open, but that isn't the case when it comes to his wife, but he also isn't hiding that he's married, but the almost 8 years of marriage and the three, now five, kids, no one knew about.
Requested: NO / yes
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Lando wears jewelry outside of driving, but it isn't often that he wears his ring on his finger, mainly because it's just easier to wear it on a chain to not lose it when he inevitably has to take it off to drive.
But over the breaks, he wears it all the time.
So when he comes back from summer break, he hasn't quite moved it to the chain he always wears outside of the car, and a few fans see it.
But what really gets Lando shocked about people not knowing about his family is the number of drivers that actually brought this "rumor" to his attention.
So, for the next race, he walks in on Facetime with his wife.
Carlos is the first to Lando.
"You never answered after I told you about the rumor," Carlos told him, not seeing the phone in his hand.
"Because it's not a rumor. Baby, meet Carlos, Carlos, my wife, Izara," Lando shows Carlos the phone as he says the name of his wife.
From the screen, Carlos can see a woman waving at him from a hospital bed.
"What happened?" Carlos said as he waved back.
"She just gave birth to our fourth and fifth kids," Lando says it so calmly that Carlos almost thinks he's pranking him.
"Oh, Baby, I got to go. The nurse just came in. I'll Facetime you when we're done over here," Izara says as she blows a kiss to Lando, who does the same.
"Make sure our boys are there, please, I want to talk to them." Izara nods at Lando as they both hang up.
Carlos looks at Lando like he's grown seven more heads and is 20 feet tall.
"Why didn't I know about this?" Carlos questions as both start to walk toward the garages.
"I don't know, I've only talked about Izara like she hung the sun for years. Not my words about the sun thing," Lando told him, looking at Carlos.
"I know you've talked about her, but you never said you were dating, let alone married with kids."
They got to McLaren, and Carlos went to say something as Oscar passed to go in but was stopped by the older driver.
"Did you know Lando was married?" Carlos questioned him.
"No, I know he's with Izara," Oscar says, answering the question.
"Did you know he had kids?" Carlos asked.
"He has kids?" Oscar questioned.
"Yes, I have kids, five of them," Lando says to his teammate, looking up from his phone, which he was texting his wife.
"What?" Max questions as he passes to get to Red Bull.
"Yes, I'm married and have been for almost 8 years. Yes, I have kids, five of them. Two of them were born two days ago, so I would much rather be there than here. Anything else?"
Charles had joined as Lando started, and he was just as confused as the others.
George and Lewis came over when they seen the group, just standing around Lando.
Alex follows behind with Logan.
"You have babies? Newborn babies?" Charles questions after a moment of silence.
Lando just nods at his question.
"Yes, I want to get this race over to go them," Lando says.
"What?" George and Alex say at the same time.
"Alex, you knew about my wife and the twins." The other drivers turn to Alex, who smiles a bit nervously.
"Well, I did, but you didn't tell me, I found out through Lily. You know, your wife's best friend, my girlfriend."
"You still knew," George says.
"What do you mean? Carmen knows her, and Oscar's Lily and Alexandra know her. I think Kelly and Rebecca, too." Alex tells the group.
Lewis looks to all of them, then to Lando, "Congrats, man."
Lando nods at the older man in thanks before Lewis leaves, and Lando also leaves when he realizes all the other drivers are looking to Alex for answers about the bomb he dropped about their girlfriends, so he makes an escape to McLaren.
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A/N: This one is getting a Part 2, no matter what anyone says.
Tags: @poppyflower-22 @samantha-chicago @barcelonaloverf1life @tallrock35 @ellen3101 @llando4norris @mcmuppet @issi-loves-dannyric @1800-love-me @barcelonaloverf1life @hellothere9597
If you want to be removed from a tag list, let me know so I don't keep tagging you. If you are striked through, I don't know if you want to be tagged, but just let me know if you want me to continue or stop
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