Please Reblog If You Think That “they/them/theirs” Is A Valid Set Of Pronouns.

These are the type of texts you’d get from Levi after you two start dating btw

For my favorite Levi simp @l3viat8an lemme know if these fit him lovely 💛

follow-up to that first post that was initially meant to be in the same post but then it got way too late so i didn't finish it BUT here it is

(+ additional silliness that i decided to add in the meantime:)

The tags are everything I know. I am sharing this with every single one to try and spread the word.

Chance Equals Fortune — Prologue

Squid Game | The Salesman x F!Reader

Summary: parasites. that is the only thing he thinks of when he meets the players he is meant to recruit. but what happens when he meets you and you are nothing of what he expects.

an au where the salesman lives and becomes a player.

Warnings: swearing and classist thinking. in the future there will probably be canon-typical violence and i'm still debating on smut.

a/n: happy new years! i'm sorry i couldn't upload this earlier i had to deal with some long distant relatives. however, due to popular demand here is the gong yoo fic as promised. this was originally supposed to be under 1k words...

Words: 2.1k

Click. Click. Click

Those are the sounds of pristine perfectly polished black shoes on concrete. The soles of the shoes worn by a handsome-looking businessman echoed loudly, causing the sounds to reverberate into the jet-black sky. As he walked beneath the faint luminescence of street lights, case in hand and his head held high, his eyes searched for the next prey to fall victim to his silver tongue. The same mouth that twisted dark truths into sweet promises others couldn't dare reject. Never once has his articulate way of speaking failed to deliver the precise words necessary to provide his superiors with a new batch of fresh meat to satisfy their sadistic tendencies. To him, it was all the same. One less piece of vermin in the world, and more importantly, one less leech to drain the well-oiled machine that is society.

Today was no different as he strolled along the sidewalk of a small park near the outskirts of Seoul. While he walked, he felt indifferent towards the small details, like the light breeze swaying the tree branches above or the faint smell of dog shit wafting through the air. Having trained himself to ignore anything and everything that could be a possible distraction from his mission. What was his mission again? Ah yes, currently that would be you.

His steps immediately halted as he spotted your figure in the distance, a dark shadow looming over a bed of flowers and a trail of smoke emitting from the cigarette between your fingers. There you are. He squared his shoulders as he fixed his expression into one of casual ease. Now, all he had left to do was to convince you all of the problems that have stemmed from your pathetic life could be solved in the blink of an eye. That your worries could dissolve as quickly as skin in acid.

He began to move again, taking long strides to where you were standing. In the time he took to reach you, he jotted some quick mental notes.

One. Your relaxed stance oozed confidence and uninterest despite being a young lady positioned in one of the most crime-infested spots of the city in the dead of night. Meaning you either had a weapon on you or had sufficient defense skills, possibly both. He must tread carefully.

Two. You were positioned next to a tall fountain, atop stood a small marble figure of a gumiho. The spot infamously known for the shady transactions dealing with drugs and other nefarious crimes. Perhaps you were waiting for someone? He'd have to keep an eye out for any newcomers that could interrupt his process.

Three. Your mouth was...moving?

His steps faltered. There was no other person around within a 3-mile radius whom you could be conversing with, nor did you have a phone in hand. How odd. In his time as a recruiter, he has encountered all kinds of people. Drug addicts, the mentally ill, and one memorable case a delirious man on the brink of death, hallucinating from hunger. You, however, seemed perfectly sane. Keyword…seemed. He shook his head, quickly putting a halt to his thoughts. He had no time to ponder over whatever weird traits you may have, he came here to do one job. He resumed his trek towards you and was soon standing mere feet from you.

Show time.

“Excuse me miss, may I have a minute of your time?”

You remain standing still, making no indication that you had noticed him. Your eyes were distant while you continued to murmur but no sound came out. He wasn’t sure if you were ignoring him or if you really were that unaware of your surroundings. Now that won’t do.

“Miss?” He tried again tentatively, his head tilting curiously as he stepped in your line of sight. “Are you alright?”

Finally, your eyes shifted into focus, taking a moment to adjust. For a brief moment, it appeared as if you were lost. However, that moment soon passed and your eyes narrowed, annoyance filling your features.

“Why did you interrupt me?”

The bite in your tone was enough to make him raise an eyebrow. Perhaps you really weren’t in the right state of mind after all. “Interrupt?”

You scoffed, ignoring the question you brought the cigarette back to your lips. Taking in a long drag before you released the smoke right in his face. His mouth turned downward in displeasure.

“Do you need something?” You snapped, your jaw clenching as you slid your free hand in your pocket. He caught the way your finger twitched as you did so. Weapon it is then.

His face instantly changed back to that previous pleasant expression, his lips curving into a kind smile though with a lack of warmth in his eyes. Instead replaced by an empty, clinical look.

”I don’t mean to be a bother ma’am, but I’m here to offer you a proposal you’re sure to like,” he states in a neutral tone, having uttered a variation of those words dozens of times. “A way to better improve your current economic situation.”

Your body tenses as your eyes dart over his figure eyeing the suitcase, no doubt analyzing him as a threat. “Look I already said I’d pay him back!” He watches as you chuck the cigarette to the ground and stomp on it. “If he keeps rushing me like this then don’t expect to get a single won out of me! I don’t give a shit who he is!” Your volume rises as you take a step back, ready to sprint if needed.

He raises his arm in surrender. “That’s not what I’m here for. As I’ve stated, I only want to help.” His mind is conjuring up the best way to ease the tension.

He hesitantly takes a step forward.

Your eyes immediately look back down. “What’s in the case?”

Another step.

“I work for a group of people whose only interest is to help those who are struggling. Our objective being to ease the burden of the majority.” He swiftly places the case at the base of the fountain, unlocking the latch but leaving it closed. “See for yourself.”

You were the one to take the final step, closing the gap between the two of you. You gave him one more skeptical look before you focused all of your attention on what was in front of you. Slowly, both hands reached out and flipped the top wide open. Your eyes widened as you took in the contents of what was inside, or more specifically, the big wads of cash.

You remained silent, frozen as a statue as you simply stared. In an instant, you whipped your head in his direction. You took the time to study him, your mouth slightly agape and a certain look in your eye he couldn't quite place. A couple of seconds passed, you clamped your mouth shut and swallowed thickly, licking your lips before you finally managed to whisper, "What do you want?"

His mouth quirked upward in a smirk. Got you. "I'd like to play a game."

You belted out a high-pitched, contorted laugh. A childlike glee completely overcoming you. "Ab-so-fucking-lutely," you grinned from ear to ear, bouncing on the balls of your feet.

It dawned on him what that look in your gaze was...

Unstable.

A jolt of thrill shoots down his spine. "I'm sure you're familiar with the game ddakji," he reaches until he grabs the two colorful squares, carefully placing the red one on the ground, "for every time your square manages to flip mine, I will pay you 100,000 won."

You nod enthusiastically, your hand shooting out as he draws his hand in at the same time. "However, if you lose...you must pay me back the same amount."

You snatched the piece from him. “Deal.” You don't waste a single moment in hurling it, the force of the impact causing the sound to ricochet like a gunshot. The square goes flying, becoming a red blur. It stays in the air for a couple of seconds, but that time is enough for the experienced recruiter to know that you've already won. By the time it hits the ground, he doesn't even have to look to know it's flipped.

You look up expectantly at him.

He glances at her, jaw clenching. Well, this isn't how it usually goes. Before he can move to pay you, your voice cuts through the silence. "From the look on your face, you didn't want me to win, correct?" The lack of response on his part encourages you to continue. "How about, instead of doing whatever the hell you were thinking, I propose a new rule," you lean forward, your eyes sparkling with mirth, "we both keep throwing until one of us loses. If I win...you give me everything that's in that case."

"And what if I win?"

Your mouth twists into a devilish smirk. "Don't worry, you won't."

His eyes look you up and down, scanning you. His hands twitch in anticipation at the challenge, adrenaline manifesting itself as electricity in his veins. His bruised ego from losing the first round combined with his competitive nature was enough to make him agree. This was not part of the plan. He could just give you the money, the card, and go about his day like he has so many times before. He has no reason to play along other than he just wants to beat you.

"Alright," his previously fabricated smile now becoming genuine, "my turn."

With renewed vigor, he launches his square and as expected, it flips. He lets out an arrogant chuckle as he fixes his suit and stands up straight, his lips stretching into a satisfied smile.

This cycle continued for multiple rounds, the money long forgotten. The need to succeed fueled the violent fire between the two of you. After a while, he lost all track of time, fixating all of his attention solely on the game.

By now, his hair was disheveled and sweat dripped down his forehead. He panted as he recovered, his arm muscles aching from the consistent use. It was taking more energy than he was willing to admit in order to keep going but like hell if he'd let exhaustion be the cause of failing.

On his turn, he prepared himself to once again launch the disc. He readied himself, drawing his arm back and—

His eyes suddenly flickered to your lips, where your tongue darted out lick them. He watches intensely at your now damp, chapped lips, mouth slightly parted as you breathe heavily from fatigue.

In his moment of distraction, the square slips from his hand. He scrambles quickly to catch it but it's too late...

He's lost.

There is a long pause of silence, before your high-pitched cackle cuts through the air. His eyes widen in shock, the realization slowly setting in.

How...

He breathes out deeply through his nose, trying his best to compose himself. What the hell was that? How on earth could he have lost? He Never. Loses. He doesn't have any longer to dwell on the fact as you practically skip in joy to the case, already counting the amount. All of this because you managed to distract him.

Your voice soon interrupts his thoughts. "Maybe the next time you want to win, you might try not to let your eyes stray so far..." you say as you wink.

How did you even notice? Wait...was that on purpose? He clenches his fists until they turn white, the thought making his blood boil. He has half the mind to kill you and call it an accident just to quell his anger.

He closes his eyes in frustration. No, I can't ruin the games.

He takes in a couple of deep breaths, forcing himself to calm down. Once he knows that his voice won't betray any conflict he feels, he speaks again, "you know, there are other games such as the one we just played. And for much larger prizes as well."

He's back in his element, his persuasive tone of voice exuding reliability. He hands you the card, explaining how it works, how to enlist, and so on.

By the time he finishes his speech, you look mostly convinced. After inspecting the card more closely, your stare finds his, "I appreciate what you have done and thank you for the opportunity. I will consider your offer. If I do accept know it will only be due to a singular fact," your head leans closer, voice lowering to a whisper and your breath fanning over his, "I never lose"

On that note, you step back and walk away, never once turning to glance back at him. You soon disappear into the dark Seoul night, shadows blending with that of buildings and trees.

He lets out a small huff in amusement. If that is true, then he's excited to see how you'll fare in the games.

please don't be a silent reader i love reading comments and hearing your thoughts.

Warm Winter Mornings and Cold Summer Nights

Summary: Captain John Price of the 141 adopts a stray. It goes about as well as one would expect. Part 1 of many

Lying on a flattened cardboard box, with nothing but a flimsy, worn-down cloth draped over their tiny body, a young child rests in the frigid cold. They are curled into themselves, knees drawn close to their chest, arms tightly hugging their shins—most likely trying to preserve warmth.

The child is awfully small; he doubts they are older than ten, give or take.

Now, here comes the dilemma.

It was supposed to be a quick trip to the store—there and back. His list consisted of chicken, green onions, and garlic—and it definitely did not include a stray kid.

Breathe out. Breathe in.

The movement of their chest is subtle, barely noticeable in the dark.

It’s only a matter of time before they succumb to the harsh, unforgiving winter night.

Today is a special day. Christmas.

Snowflakes drift leisurely to the ground in the form of fluffy, white pom-poms, shrouding the concrete below in a blanket of soft cotton.

Children should be safe in a house, surrounded by the warmth of their family and celebrating the holiday. But this one is not.

Instead, they’re curled up on a sodden piece of cardboard with a sorry excuse of a blanket in a filthy alleyway. Scared. Cold. Alone.

Yes. Alone. Just like him.

Perhaps it was the overwhelming need for comfort, for family, that he had been feeling. Maybe this young, scruffy stray was the last puzzle piece he has been missing.

A kid. He’s always wanted one.

After all, he is a lonely man, and he has been lonely for a long, long time.

So, against his better judgement, he enters the dark alley.

The child immediately stiffens, sitting up and pressing their back to the brick wall, trying to make themselves smaller. Narrowed eyes stare at his approaching figure, wary and prickly, ready to defend if need be.

He crouches down, resting on his haunches to make himself appear less threatening. Now, he has the chance to get a better look at the kid.

White, translucent puffs of air escape from their mouth with every exhale, and he can hear the tremble of their breaths as their small lungs fight through the biting, frigid air. The tips of their ears and nose are tinged red, numb from the cold—god knows how long they have been out here.

“Hello, little one.”

A smudge of dirt on their cheek, rags for clothes, and a deep cut on their right calf that definitely needs attention—but he doubts they trust him enough to let him get close.

For now.

“I’m John Price.”

He reaches out his hand, palm facing upwards and fingers curling slightly at the end in a natural, casual manner. The gesture is meant to be warm—inviting—but they flinch and cower away, their gaze sharp, brimming with distrust.

Undeterred, he continues to extend his hand.

“Let's get you out of the cold, yeah?”

OM! Eye HC’s part 3 ft; the (tragically) undatable!

Raphael:

I wanted Raphael to appear stern and war torn. I imagine whilst he used to be a healer (just one with a hobby of combat), post celestial war he’s been forced into the role of a guard or soldier. Though I certainly imagine he prefers healing others over combat. I wanted him to look slightly tired. I personally HC Raphael can’t sleep naturally, he was intended to be a guardian so he’s inherently restless and forced to constantly watch, especially since he’s a Virtue of Diligence. So instead, when the brothers were in the Celestial Realm, Belphagor would use his magic to put Raphael to sleep and give him a break, which is how he developed his bond with the twins. However since Belphie fell, Raphael is now entirely sleepless, as such his eyes look more unfocused and almost glazed over due to exhaustion.

Mephistopheles:

Okay so, Mephisto is one of my favs so I have a lot to say about him. First the basics, I wanted him to come across posh and snobby, so I made it so he doesn’t meet the viewers gaze. I imagine he only makes eye contact and gives his full focus to those he deems worthy (Like Dia and Barb). Now as for the coloured Sclera and glowing eyes. I imagine Mephie isn’t actually of the Devildom, but rather the “Crossroads” the land in between the three realms. (Not to be confused with Thirteen who comes from OUTSIDE the three realms). Mephisto being from this twisted in-between land his demon form is actually a shapeshifting green mist. Much like the devil, Mephistopheles (the actual demon not in OM!) is described as looking almost entirely human save for few fatal flaws in his disguise. I imagine for Mephisto it’s the same, him struggling to maintain a full human form, due to this having a malformed ankle and limp and when he’s not trying to trick humans he allows his eyes to drop the disguise as to lessen the magic toll on his stamina.

Thirteen:

Note I use She/They Pronouns for Thirteen so keep that in mind. I imagine Thirteen is sort of a reptile human. Due to this they can see in the dark, can keep their eyes open underwater without issue, and has great heat sensing capabilities. (I also imagine she has a slit tongue and sharp teeth but that isn’t eye related so-). I picture she has very big eyes with long wispy lashes. I imagine they could easily win a staring comp against anyone (save for Levi and Barb). Also I picture her with a lot of piercings and tattoos, I just imagine she loves decorating her skin and body, being obsessed with body mods of all varieties. Currently her only facial tattoo is a small heart under her eye but she LONGS to get more.

levi sketches for all the love on the last post :D

references below!

Wrong Number, Right Day

Chapter One: Good Deed of the Day

Gaz x Female Reader

Warnings: None

Word Count: 526 words

Summary: Kyle gets a wrong number text but decides to be a little generous that day.

Notes: I wrote this on my phone on breaks in between jobs. No editing.

Kyle groaned as he body refused to relax. His muscles still tight and tense, despite the flight home and the bar with the others. The piss poor alcohol had done nothing to ease Kyle’s stresses either. He ignored the constant buzzing of his phone on the table. Soap was probably sending updates on whether or not he’d managed to make any leeway with Ghost.

Soap had been trying to get in the Lieutenant’s pants for a while now. Kyle could tell by watching that Ghost was interested but never made a move. The little ways he took care of Soap. Making sure he was get checked out by medical. Doing check ins while at the safe house. Getting water and food into him. Subtly touching his shoulder when stressed. All these little things, and some alcohol, led Kyle to stupidly mention all of it to Soap.

So now the man was determined to get Ghost ti break first. Another buzz of his phone finally annoyed Kyle enough that he reached for it. Of course he had like 16 texts from Soap. As he opened his phone he noticed one was from a number he didn’t recognize. Opening the text he blinked stupidly at the text.

Unknown: Seriously Kyle I need the rest of the money.

Who the hell was it? Probably a wrong number. Cause the only person he owed money was Ghost. And he was letting him cover the next round of drinks instead. Kyle quickly started to type a response when Soap sent him another message making his phone buzz and Kyle’s alcohol fuzzy brain was spooked. His finger slipped across the phone.

Kyle: Sorry w

Shit. He’d hit send to early. Before he could respond again he got a flurry of texts.

Unknown: please

Unknown: kyle

Unknown: he said he’ll kick us ouyr

Unknown: *out

Unknown: im already working thre jobs just to cover what you can’t

Unknown: im not trying to make you feel bad but i cant afford food for a few weeks to cover this

Unknown: and don’t ask me to not feed your dog again

Unknown: he has to eat kyle

Whoever this Kyle was, he sounded like a fucking prick. This poor thing busting their ass just to get by. And to not feed his own dog? Kyle pulled up his bank real quick. As long as it wasn’t ridiculous, he could probably afford to send some money.

Kyle: How much?

Unknown: thak uo!!!!!

Unknown: just the last $250 and then well b god

Unknown: *good

Unknown: u still have my link?

Kyle: Please send it again.

Unknown: here ya go

Kyle: Sent $500

Unknown: what no! i just needed the rent!

Unknown: you need money for food!

Unknown: kyle take the other back!

Unknown: kyle!!!

Kyle: For your troubles. Going to sleep. Goodnight, love.

Kyle leaned back against the couch, his body finally releasing all of its tension. For some reason being able to help someone in a tangible way made him feel better. He could hear the buzzing of his phone but it lulled him into a soft sleep now instead of annoying him.