#and it’s good! i’m like actually chilling!!!

[k1mbe3rly]

hii!!! i have a request for choi su bong/thanos from squid game! (very sorry if it is hard to understand, english is not my first language)

thanos and reader were friends before squid game, but fell out of contact due to both having issues with depression. they meet again at squid game and stay together

in mingle, reader gets pushed by another player while running to a room with thanos and they get locked out of the room (like young-mi 😔)

i like angst hehe

ouuu okk

Infant and innocent.

warnings: death (LOWKEY NOT EVEN THAT SAD, idk how to write angst sorry!!)

You and Thanos had went to highschool, he looked completely diffrent before, black hair, no tattoos, yall were best friends but fell out after graduation due to both of yall having issues and his little rapping career

The last place you thought you’ll ever see him was in the Squid games, he looked wayy different now.. the purple dyed hair, the tattoos, rings and the cross necklace, even tho he didn’t look the same as before you were still able to recognize your best friend.

“Oh my gosh! it’s been so long! how have you been!” you told him as you hugged quickly, “I��ve been better! i’ve missed you, what about you huh? you look the exact same as before!” he told you as he hugged you back “I’ve been good, better now!” you said giggling

Ever since that reunion, you both were practically glued to eachother, he introduced you to Nam-gyu which he had a mouth on him so Thanos would always say something to protect you

You guys stayed together thru out the games and catched up, laughing and everything

Yall were already teamed for the 2nd game, The six legged pentathlon, yall were sitting down on the floor noticing thanos acting different than Nam-gyu spoke up

“Hey dude can i have one of those things in your necklace?” he asked, thanos looked over “i don’t know what the fuck your talking about”

“Come on i’m like really shaky, dude look at my hands” he said shaking him his hands as you looked at them as well, “Do you know what this is?” he said raising his cross “Ecstasy?” “Nah this shit is crazy man.”

“Bro back then in the club i took all of it man..” nam gyu said as if it was something to flex, Thanos chuckled as he opened his cross “you little junkie..” he said giving him a colorful? smartie looking pill

He than looked over at you, “Want one?” he asked as you shaked your head “Uh.. what is it?” you asked back “Something that will chill your nerves, make you go brrr! know what i mean?” he said chuckling

You chuckled along trying to seem like you knew but than quickly stoped in confusion “No i don’t know what you mean..” you said, “God your so innocent..” he said chuckling a bit

Time skip

The 2nd gave was over with as yall mange to survive that, you sighed as you looked around, “What’s wrong?” Thanos asked looking up at you from the stairs, “Nothing just missing home, i guess…” you told him

His eyes slightly darken, “I think ima pick ‘X’, I kinda wanna go home, besides i think that’s enough money right?” you said to him again, “Nah.. you could always do more, besides you’ve survived this long why not just one more game?” he told you hoping you wouldn’t pick ‘X’

You hesitated, “I don’t know..besides it’s a bit dangerous, i mean who knows what the next game is right?” you said, Nam gyu glared up at you but he knew better to say anything because of thanos

“There just child games, it’s not like any of it is actually hard.. so one more game? than we get the hell out of here and fully catch up” he said smiling, you smiled back, “Sure..why not, i guess it shouldn’t be hard” you told her as he secretly applaud inside

You guys got yalls food as he looked at it, “The hell is this?” he asked the guards, he scoffed and walked away, you grabbed your food doing a small bow to the guard and quickly catching up to him

“Here, you can have mine” You told him giving him your bread, “What? no it’s yours” he said back pushing the bread away a bit, “No really, have it i’m not that hungry” you told him smiling at him

“Nah..you have to eat, you need energy for tomorrow” he told you, you rolled your eyes playfully as you opened the bag and split the bread into 2, “Than have my other half” you told him

He chuckled, you just won’t give up, he grabbed it and smiled at you

Time skip

It was now time for the 3rd game, Mingle, They explained the rules, they basically called out a random number and we have to pair up with the exact number and go into a room before times up, Seems easy right?

Everyone stepped on the platform as it started moving slowly in circles, a child games song came up as you stood there watching Thanos go in circles, his arms interlocked with Nam gyu as they laughed, you laughed a bit as you just looked away

“10 players”

The light started going darker colors and flickering a bit, since it was already 5 of yall, you just needed 5 more which yall quickly found and ran into a room

As the rounds went on the numbers were getting shorter

You were running with thanos as yall panicked and ran into a room with other people, both of yall slamming yourselves into the wall as he placed a hand to his chest, you covered your mouth laughing a bit since time was very low

He looked at you laughing as well, “Holy shit that was close!” he said, you nodded “Yea for a second i thought it was over! than i’ll have to hunt you down for saying one more game!” you told clearly joking and laughing

He laughed with you, “Nahh, I told you, your gonna make it trust! with those running skills? your good to go” he said back, “You better hope so” you said as you finally catch your breath.

The doors unlocked as everyone stepped back, everyone went back onto the platform

“Let the game begin”

Than the platform started moving and the same song came on, everyone waited a bit nervous as the platform stopped

“6 players”

Was all you heard, we still had 5 as thanos yelled out, “We need 1 more!!” he moved around as a random person came, “Come on!” he yelled at the group as he started running to a room, but when he opened it, people were already in there

“Get out!!” the people yelled as he quickly slammed the door

“Here!! this one is empty!!” Nam-gyu yelled as he was at a door, the whole group started running, you were running behind them

Your heart was beating as suddenly you were shoved, slammed into a wall, you let out a yelp

You felt dizzy since your head hit the wall, “Su bong..?” you said out, luckily thanos was able to hear you since, he quickly turned around seeing you

“Y/n!” he yelled out as he saw you getting up looking at him a bit dizzy, he was about to run to you until someone grabbed him pushing him in

You came to realization as you quickly ran to the door but it was already shut and locked, your heart was pounding faster than ever as you panicked

Thanos roughly shoved the guy away from the door looking into the little rectangle hole, the only thing he faced was your eyes which were tearing up

“Y/n!” he yelled out reaching his hands thru the hole as he felt your cheek, your tears fell down onto his finger tips even him started feeling tears forming

“Su bong..” you whispered

Thanos tried to reach out his hand even further as he was able to touch your cheek fully, he shaked his head refusing to believe that you were out there and he was inside

You leaned into his touch a bit as your tears made his hand wet, “No..no! y/n..” he said quickly

You didn’t have time to answer him as you felt a sharp sting thru your back, you let out a loud yelp as your body flinched, your head fell onto the door, more into thanos hand as he widen his eyes

He moved his hand to your chin trying to hold you up as your eyes went lifeless, his tears begin falling down as he couldn’t hold you up anymore, your body fell to the ground.

He banged his head on the door a bit as everyone watched him, he turned to the guy that pushed him inside and brutally punched him as Nam gyu quickly grabbed on to him

“Chill…chill it’s okay.” he said still pulling him back , Thanos growled and gripped onto his own hair

He started remembering everything, your smile, your last moments, what you told him last round about hunting him if you died.

If only he let you pick ‘X’ and so did he, you both would’ve been home being able to catch up properly.

[thewinter-eden]

You Called?

images are mine (except middle HJ pic that I got from pinterest). please do not use without permission. ATE pcs are my inspo for this series.

part 5 of the skz crack!horror series.

pairing: Han Jisung x fem!reader rating: mature, dark themes summary: demon!Jisung is summoned by your friends during a drunken college party. They’re trying to scare you, pretend to summon a demon and then lock you in the basement until they decide to let you out, but then the demon actually comes, and he thinks your friends are jerks.

warnings: Fear/comfort, edgy but soft Jisung, terrorizing of minor characters, discussion of spiritualism/afterlife, my only reference for demons is Supernatural, reader is freaked out by witchcraft, slight disparaging of witchcraft and mysticism (does not reflect actual beliefs), Jisung is instantly whipped, deals, fear, this one turned out a little angsty, truth or dare.

word count: 5k

Comment a request to be tagged.

series info

“I really don’t think this is a good idea.”

“Of course you don’t. But clearly, your aunt did.”

Yes, it’s your aunt’s fault. If only she didn’t have a basement full of jarred herbs and tarot cards and ouija boards and weird leathery spell books, you wouldn’t be in this predicament. You’d be in a different one, for sure, because having the friends that you have isn’t your aunt’s fault, it’s yours, but still—you wouldn’t be locked in a basement with three of your friends browsing through your aunt’s dusty new agey books.

“Now, come on, sit around the circle thing.” One of your friends, Rami, tugs you down by your elbow to sit cross-legged on the edge of a chalk rune on the floor. It looks aged and scuffed and mostly faded by dust and time, but present enough to be identifiable as something mystical.

“I’m serious, I don’t think my aunt would have wanted us down here.” You mutter. It seems colder all of a sudden, chills covering your arms and shivering down your spine.

“Then she should have cleaned it out before she died I guess.” Rami returned, gesturing for Chae and Boyoung to sit down as well. “And besides, this was your penalty. You accepted it, so this is what we’re doing.”

You wouldn’t have accepted the stupid penalty for the stupid drinking game from the stupid college party upstairs if the alternative hadn’t been being cornered by the greasy frat boy who kept slipping his hands under your shirt every time he got the chance.

Next time your cousin tries to convince you to come over and “let loose with a couple of friends” you’re going to remember that her idea of hanging out is a massive college kegger.

“Alright, here it is.” Boyoung draws her legs up underneath her and rests the massive tome of the spell book she’s holding across her knees. She shoots the others a devious smirk, and then clears her throat. “Are we ready?”

You most certainly are not.

It’s not like you believe in the afterlife and mysticism and witchcraft and all of the other spiritualism nuances that your aunt was into, but you also recognize that you definitely don’t know everything about the scope of the universe. You’re willing to admit that you might be wrong about what exists and what is folklore, and you’re certainly not enthusiastic about playing around with the afterlife—just in case.

You’ve never even touched a Ouija board, because what if?

You don’t think they work, but what if?

And now, because you lost a stupid drinking game, your stupid friends are going to use the demon summoning ritual that your aunt just had, like it’s an old family recipe or something.

“Can I pick a different penalty?” You try again, your palms sweating. Yeah, sure, nothing’s going to happen because it’s obviously an old gift shop spell book (a really old, really big gift shop spell book), but all the half-burnt candles and chalk runes and hanging herbs around you are starting to freak you out.

Boyoung and Chae both shake their heads, while Rami reaches out and snatches your elbow. “This was the deal—one summoning spell, and then ten minutes by yourself. You agreed.”

You feel like crying.

You regret it. You regret coming. You didn’t like your aunt when she was alive—who gives their nieces and nephews cat whiskers and tinctures for birthdays?—and you certainly don’t like your cousin now—she clearly has a terrible idea of a good time—so why did you even come tonight?

At this point, you’re even wishing you can go back upstairs and ask the greasy frat boy to rescue you from your friends. They’re way too excited about leaving you locked in the creepy basement after a demonic invocation, whether they believe in it or not.

“Go ahead!” Chae nudges Boyoung. “Hurry up, I wanna go back upstairs.”

“It’s fucking creepy in here.” Rami agrees, rubbing her arms and jutting her chin towards the book.

“Why don’t we just do something else? Forget the basement.” You complain, starting to get back to your feet.

Predictably, Rami yanks you back down. “Rules are rules! Go ahead, Boyoung-ah.”

That’s how you find yourself sitting in a dark basement while your friend chants ominously in Latin, your heart racing like you’ve just run a marathon. Why did it have to be a demon summoning? Why couldn’t it have been a séance? At least if you were going to be playing around with pretend spiritualism, you could pretend to talk to someone you actually liked.

Your dad had died when you were little, you could pretend to have a tear-jerking reunion and then get the fuck out of that creepy old witch house once your friends were satisfied.

Why do you even call them your friends anyway?

You’re all just the members of a few too many group projects for your biology classes, more associates than anything else.

But Boyoung is still chanting, tripping over awkward pronunciation of the dead language and squinting through the faint light to see the faded text on the ancient pages.

You don’t think it’s your imagination when a whisper of air ruffles the hair at the back of your neck, but you’re also extremely anxious at the moment. So anxious that you physically jump when Boyoung slams the book shut.

“Done!” She chirps, hopping to her feet and dusting off the seat of her skirt. She fixes you with an evil grin. “Ten minutes by yourself!” Then she loops her arm through Chae’s and your three associates clamber back up the rickety stairs to the basement door.

Before they leave you, teary and trembling on the concrete floor, Rami pauses and looks back at you. “And no using your phone. If we see any light under the door, we’ll keep it locked for an extra ten minutes.”

It was a meaningless threat, because you know for sure they’re gonna go upstairs and get more drinks and find more friends, and you’re going to have to call your cousin to let you out after they forget about you.

So there you are. In the dark, in a creepy basement, all by yourself. You’re still sitting on the ground, cross-legged, your shaky hands gripping at your knees like it’s the only thing grounding you.

It’s just an empty basement.

It’s just you, by yourself.

You decide to close your eyes and focus on your breathing, counting the lengths of each inhale and exhale until the vague sounds of Boyoung’s invocation fades from your memory. You sit there, just breathing, urging the tension to melt from your muscles, until it feels like an eternity has passed.

The party is still in full swing on the floor above you, the music and laughter floating beneath the door down to you. You focus on the shouting voices until your spine relaxes.

When your eyes finally open and blink down at the bright screen of your phone, reading the giant numbers of the clock glaring back at you, you realize you’ve only been alone for three minutes.

Every ounce of tension returns, winding through the fibers in your muscles until it’s clamped around your bones and settled in the roots of your teeth. You’re still in a creepy witchy basement for another seven freaking minutes. As the darkness seems to physically seep into your skin, your gaze is sweeping the shadows of the room.

Bookshelves covered in spilled wax, random feathers, jars of little stones and dirt (hopefully dirt?), various crystals, tons of super old books, crates of more books, larger jars of plants and branches that you can’t begin to make sense of, and an aura that you can’t quite put your finger on.

You can’t say why you feel like you’re being watched, especially when you know you’re alone, but your heart is once again inexplicably racing in your chest.

There’s no one.

The shadow to your left is the marble bust of a saint or an angel or something, the one near your feet is the pile of musty blankets on an old wooden chair, the one straight ahead of you is the kettle that hangs from a frame over the ashy pit of a cold fireplace.

Honestly what the hell was your aunt up to before she died?

You bring yourself back, focusing on the cold concrete beneath your butt, the way your ankle is grinding into the floor, the cold that’s curling its fingers around your throat when your shirt slips off of one shoulder.

As you try to slip back into the calm refuge that you’d found with your eyes closed, desperate to not emerge from the pit of the basement with tear streaks of dust and mascara, all you can hear is your own breathing.

There’s no one in there with you, no one in the shadows, no one lurking behind the stairs.

Sucking in a deep breath, you hold it and listen to your heart pounding in your ears. It’s a trick you learned to calm yourself when you were young, counting to four between breaths. In the next few moments, you feel your body begin to relax and sink back into a neutral position.

Your lungs burn as you count to four for the tenth time.

The next exhale is loud.

And it is most decidedly not your own.

You shoot upright, hand snapping out to clutch at your phone. Fuck what Rami said, you need that flashlight. Tracking the shadows again as your sweat-slicked hands fight your thumbprint reader, eyes widely combing every inch of the dark room, you find yourself unable to peer past the blackness to see the source of the sound that made your heart flip.

Your phone just keeps shaking its “try again” message at you, stubbornly refusing to unlock.

Until you see them—and you realize that you’ve already been looking at them—your gaze landing on them a dozen times in the past thirty seconds, not even registering them.

Until they blink back at you.

Your fingers stomp your passcode in and swipe on the flashlight.

Cold white light floods the room, and he’s standing there, staring at you.

You scream, bundled nerves exploding your body backwards and you find yourself on your feet, scrambling back against a heavy bookshelf.

But he’s just standing there, watching you from the other edge of the chalk circle thing you were sitting on. His head is tilted slightly, sharp eyes hooded as he beholds you silently.

Your arm is practically spasming as you try to keep your light pointed at him and check all the walls and corners at the same time, your brain screaming at you to figure out where he came from. Where did he come from? There’s only one door in the basement, and it’s up the flight of stairs to your left.

“What the fuck?” You screech, your other hand scrambling for something—anything.

The man’s eyes narrow.

He’s not especially tall, but he’s lean and strong, dressed in all black, his raven hair curling over his forehead and neck. There’s something devilishly beautiful about him, about the honey of his skin and the flick of his tongue between his lips.

His eyes mimic yours, tracing you up and down, and his tongue flicks again. Then he opens his mouth and his chin twitches up, short locks of hair flipping away from his eyes. “You called?”

The sultry baritone of his voice floats to your ears with heavy, dangerous weight, and your fingers automatically clamp around the first thing you find. Before you can reason your way through your next decision, you hurl it—the book you’re suddenly holding—directly at his head.

The man flinches, knocking the book aside with the swipe of his hand, but doesn’t realize there’s a second one coming.

You’re pelting them as quickly as you can find them, yanking ancient (probably valuable) books off of the shelf, sending up plumes of dust everywhere, hurling them at the man as you edge your way towards the stairs. He’s standing between you and your exit and you’ll be damned (hopefully not literally) if you’re going to be sacrificed to a demon in your freaky aunt’s basement.

But then his voice reaches you with a completely different tone.

“Stop! Oh my god, stop!” He’s twisted away from you, his hands up covering his face. You see glimpses of his eyes gone impossibly wide, lips jutting out in a disbelieving pout, trying desperately to catch your gaze. He dodges another book and dances away from another. “Why are you—stop!—you called me!”

Another book strikes his shoulder and his pitch goes even higher.

“You literally called me! Stop!”

You stop.

He sounds so…offended that you’re battering him with books that you just plant yourself, clutching a heavy tome to your chest, gaping at him.

He takes a second to collect himself, smoothing down the sleek black jacket that wraps around his thick shoulders and falls snugly around his narrow waist.

Running a hand through his hair and shaking dust out of it, he gapes right back at you. “Do you know how rare it is for this to happen?” He demands, eyes still comically wide. “We don’t just come when called anymore! You—” He jabs a finger in your direction and you shriek, flinching. “Are lucky that I was curious!”

Your hope of coming out of this experience without wearing your mascara in crusted ribbons down your cheeks went out the window about fifteen books ago. “You…you’re…” You suck in a deep breath that sounds like it choked you all the way down. “You?”

The man glares at you, planting his hands on his hips. “You are unbelievably rude.” He decides, taking a step closer as though you aren’t literally hiding behind the giant book in your hands. “You reach through the veil to call upon a spiritual being in the year of our Lord, 2025, and when I answer the freaking phone you throw a library at me? This is why we don’t talk to you people anymore.”

But he doesn’t reach to touch you or attack you and stomp on your skull, so you lower the book away from your face ever so slightly.

He’s standing in front of you, arms crossed over his chest, a disappointed frown on his face.

You take a second to blink at him, a flood of tears trickling down your cheeks. There’s so much happening, so much shattering your entire perception of the universe right now, but there’s only one thing on your mind. “Did you just say ‘oh my god’?”

At your timid, whimpering voice, the demon’s eyes roll. “Are you serious right now?”

You flinch, stumbling back. “It’s just…” Your eyes wander and you mentally pinch yourself. But, honestly, he’s fucking gorgeous and your racing heart is making your head spin already. “You’re a demon?”

“Yeah, so?” He shoots back.

“So…” you swallow harshly. “God?”

This brings a smirk to his lips. “If you came down here to ask about God, I think you’ve got the wrong number.”

“I didn’t call you.” You argue, glancing behind you to make sure you aren’t going to be falling into a coffin or some other terrible thing that your aunt has hidden back there.

He looks confused. “You didn’t?” He glances around. “Someone did. It’s not like I can get the address wrong.”

“My friends called you.” There’s nowhere for you to go. You’re standing against the wall, mere feet away from a literal demon, and there’s nowhere you can run from him.

At the obviously otherwise empty basement, the demon raises his eyebrows at you. “Where are they?”

You shakily point towards the stairs as you slide down the wall to the floor. “At the party. It was a dare. A penalty for a dumb game—they were supposed to pretend to summon a demon with all of this weird shit and then I was supposed to stay down here for ten minutes by myself—they just wanted to scare me. I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry. Please just go away, I’ll never bother you, I swear.” You’re sobbing, completely overwhelmed, feeling completely exposed to this spiritual being as he watches you fall apart.

You’ve got the massive tome propped up on your lap, leaned against your forehead to shield yourself as you weep.

Do demons kill people?

Do they just possess people?

Are you going to go on from this night demon-possessed?

Are you supposed to pray or something?

Weight lifts from your bones as the tome is suddenly taken from you, and you blink past tears to see that the demon is crouched in front of you, dark strands of hair dancing with his eyelashes as he peers into your fearful face.

His gaze traces the trembling in your shoulders, your hands, your thighs, the rigid, bulging muscles in your throat and forearms as your body tightens with terror. When he speaks again, his deep voice is gentle. “Your friends summoned a demon and locked you in here by yourself?”

There’s nothing you can do but nod, wishing you hadn’t skipped your weekly phone call to your mom earlier. You wish you’d told her you love her, that you never meant to be possessed by a demon.

You see his hand lift and your eyes squeeze shut, a whimpering gasp rushing past your lips. If you get out of here alive, you’re burning down the basement and going to church.

But then his warm—feverishly hot, actually—fingertips glide over the wetness of your face, and his thumb is wiping at your tears. When your eyes snap open, he’s cupping your cheek in one hand but his eyes are black fire. “Stay here, baby, I’ll be right back.”

His touch disappears in a swirl of black smoke and he’s gone, vanished right before you like he was never there.

But your cheek is still throbbing from the heat of his palm, your heart thumping in your chest from the impact of his low voice.

Did he just call you baby?

All of that goes directly out of your mind because in the next second, you can hear enormous crashes of thunder above your head. The music from the party dies with an electric squeal that makes your ears sting, and then screams fill the air. The ceiling of the basement pounds and trembles with running footsteps from the floor above, furniture crashing and college students stumbling into things.

There’s a flicker from beneath the basement door, and then the light disappears.

The single bulb over your head goes out.

You scramble for your phone, turning the flashlight back on, heart hammering as you listen.

The screams begin to fade, sounding farther and farther away, until the house above you is completely silent.

Black smoke puffs in front of you and there he is again, the demon with the fire in his eyes.

The reflexive yelp that scratches up your throat is accidental, but it seems to douse the flames and the man’s gaze softens as he lowers himself to the floor, mimicking your folded-knees position. He lifts a hand and gestures to you, beckoning you closer.

Obviously you don’t move, terrified out of your mind. “What the hell did you just do?”

“I locked them in a room with me and scared them.” He shrugs. “It wasn’t as funny as they thought it was going to be. Your friends are assholes and I don’t think you should hang out with them anymore.” He tilts his head at you, his hand still extended. “I didn’t hurt them, I promise. They just ran away. As long as they stay away from you, they’ll be fine.”

You’re going to be completely honest with yourself, you didn’t have nearly enough wits about you to wonder if he’d gone up and slaughtered the whole bunch of them. But it’s nice that he didn’t, you guess.

“So.” He claps both hands to his knees. “This is a college party? I haven’t been to one of these in ages. Do you still play truth or dare?”

Your mouth falls open.

He scoots closer.

“Why as long as they stay away from me?” You’re grasping for understanding, wondering why you’re still on the filthy floor in the creepiest room you’ve ever found yourself in, staring at a demon who’s just asked you to play truth or dare.

The demon’s eyes narrow but his lips curl in a playful smirk. “Truth or dare, baby?”

You can’t help the shiver. Do you refuse to play? He’s a literal demon who can apparently call upon thunder and destroy sound and electrical systems and frighten the bejeezus out of an entire college party.

It stands to reason that playing the silly game is probably in your best interest.

“Truth.” The tiny whisper of your voice puts a flash of teasing disappointment in his eyes.

“Okay,” He says, and scoots even closer. “Are you grateful I made your friends piss themselves for you?”

A storm of emotions strike you. Are you grateful? Yeah, a little bit. It would have been hilarious to watch, now that you think about it. Are you confused as to why he did it? More than you can articulate. Would you have ever asked him to get revenge over a penalty that was supposed to be a joke? Honestly, probably not. Are you going to tell him that?

Hell to the no.

“Yes.” You swallow. “I’m grateful.”

He looks satisfied with your answer, with himself. “Good. Your turn. Ask me.”

You don’t want to ask him. You want to leave this house just like everybody else did, with your tail between your legs and your world changed forever—but alive. But you can’t. So you clench your fists and shed another round of tears. “Truth or dare?”

What would you even dare him to do?

“Dare,” He says devilishly, tongue flicking out to scrape his teeth. His eyes are mischief and intrigue, but they’re watching the trail of your tears with undeniable softness.

“I dare you…” Your voice chokes like a candle being blown out, and you struggle to get it back. “I dare you not to hurt me.” It’s pathetic. It’s laughably pathetic, but you’re scared beyond all reason and you need any kind of reassurance to keep you sane right now.

The teasing falls from his expression instantly, and a solemn stare levels with you. “I’m not going to hurt you. You’re safe with me, I swear it.” His hands twitch, he wants to wipe the tears from your face, but he won’t—not again—not until you’re not afraid of him anymore.

You could weep all over again from the sheer anxiety of it all. “Why? Why would I believe you? Why me?”

He just smiles. “It’s my turn. Truth or dare?”

You are absolutely not ready to take a dare from a demon. “Truth.”

“Tell me your name. I’m Jisung.”

Jisung is looking at you like you’re a harbinger of hope, and you suddenly wonder if your name is supposed to hold power. Does giving your name to a demon give him power over you? Should you lie? Do you keep it to yourself?

But he gave you his name. (Or did he lie?)

You tell him. You’re locked in a basement with him—he doesn’t need a magical connection to you to kill you. He could hurt you whenever he wants.

He says your name out loud and you flinch, waiting. But your blood doesn’t boil, your eyes don’t explode, your brain doesn’t leak out of your ears. Your name on his tongue gives you confidence though, like he’s acknowledged you on an existential level and now you can look him in the eyes.

“Truth or dare.”

“Truth.” He already knows you won’t dare him to do anything, not while your mind is still racing with questions.

“Tell me why I’m safe with you, Jisung.”

He blinks at the strength in your voice, at his name in your mouth. It’s so overwhelming, to hear his name spoken aloud, that he has to turn away from you. How long has it been since he’s heard it? A millennium? An eon? Has it ever sounded so warm before? He’s blinking back tears, coughing past an ache in his chest, scrambling to collect himself before he looks back at you.

He could tell you any number of things and they would be true, but would they be enough? You’re the first face he’s seen in decades. You’re the first person who’s looked at him in years. You’re the first person who’s said his name without hurling it like a curse against him. You didn’t beg for your life when he appeared, you apologized like you bumped into him at the supermarket. Because he keeps waiting to see what you’re going to do next, say next, if you’re going to hold his gaze again.

But how does he say that to you?

He settles on his first realization of you. “Because you didn’t use me.”

You’re confused, fear falling away from your face completely as you puzzle through that statement. “I didn’t use you?”

He nods towards the book of spells that holds his invocation. “People summon demons to make deals—to use our power for their own gain. If we answer a call, it’s with the understanding that we’re being summoned to be leeched off of. You’re the first human I’ve ever come to who didn’t want anything from me.” If his throat tightens as he says it, he blames it on a millennium of loneliness and not the swell of pity that floods your eyes.

So he clears his throat and plops his chin in both palms. “Truth or dare?”

You’re warming up now, leaning into the rawness of the open wound he just exposed to you, and you feel your cheeks heat. “Dare.”

He’s stunned, delighted, and he smiles. “Dare?”

You swallow thickly, avoiding his gaze, and nod. “Dare.”

Jisung leans forward on his knees and one hand, the other lifting to wipe the last of your tears, and he lingers there, hovering right next to you. “Make a deal with me.”

The words strike you with conflicting fear and excitement, your eyes wide as you stare at him. Radiating heat from his skin kisses your face, feeding the blush on your cheeks. “But you just said—”

“It’s my deal,” He interrupts. “My terms with you.”

You don’t know whether to be scared or interested, but you have few options in the way of reactions. “What are the terms?”

“Summon me again.” He says simply. “Whenever you want to. Regularly. And I’ll protect you.”

You’re gaping directly into his face now, utterly baffled and not at all afraid. “Protect me from what?”

Jisung shrugs and lowers himself back into a seated position, this time so close that his knees are touching yours. “Anything, really. But there is the reality that once you’ve reached through the veil, there are traces of you on my side of it as well. Your presence is known now, you might be vulnerable to things from the other side.”

“Things?” You repeat. “What kinds of things?”

He frowns, like he doesn’t want to tell you. “Demons, spirits, the fallen. But I’ll protect you from all of them. They might not find you, they might not care—but if they do, I’ll be there.”

This is so much worse than a stupid prank demon summoning. “Why? Why would you make this deal?”

He smiles at you then, and it’s the most vulnerable he’s looked so far. “There’s not much in the way of goodness where I’m from. I miss it.”

“Goodness?” You repeat, frowning.

“You.” He says, reaching out and flicking your knee lightly. “Friendship. Smiles. Warm touch. Laughter. Shit—” He breaks off and turns his head away and you think you see him wiping wetness away from his own eyes. When he looks at you again, you almost think you had imagined it. “Give up your stupid ass friends and take me instead.”

You’re stunned; floored; flabbergasted. One of those weird hawk feathers on the bookshelves could knock you right over. “Jisung?” What do you even say to that?

He heaves a massive sigh and both of his hands curl over your knees. You don’t mind. You honestly don’t mind. Even if you know better than to trust him all at once, you don’t mind the way he’s touching you—the way he’s looking at you.

If he’s trying to trick you into some kind of possession, grooming you to be some kind of slave, you don’t know. You’re terrified that you’re being taken in by the most beautiful sad eyes you’ve ever seen, but right now you’re stuck.

He’s still watching you, eyes hooded and hoping, and you give a nod. “Okay. Deal.”

His fingers tighten around your knees and you would be terrified at the feeling of being caught in his grasp if it weren’t for the gaping grin that spreads across his face like you’ve just told a child he can go to Disney World.

“Is there some kind of blood pact we have to do to settle the deal? A contract?” You ask nervously, hoping you know which of the dozens of the books on the floor holds the invocation. “What if I summon the wrong demon on accident?”

“Just add my name to the invocation, I’ll come.” He says, and the smile on his face is addictive.

“You’ll come just because I call?”

Jisung squeezes your knees. “If you call me, I’ll come. And promise me you’ll ditch those assholes that locked you down here.” He pulls you closer to him, eyebrows lowering in earnest. “If any demon other than myself had answered, you could have come out of this experience very differently. I don’t want you around any more of their idiotic ideas.”

You laugh then, finally, and he stares at you in awe. “I promise.”

The demon straightens, satisfied, and then he’s extending one hand to you, which you willingly take this time. “The deal seals with a kiss. There’s no fine print, not for you. You have my word—regardless of what you think a demon’s word is worth.”

He has a point, but you can’t find it in yourself to care. You let him pull you to your feet, you help him find the spell book and tear the page out, slipping it into your pocket like you’ve just gotten his phone number.

When he circles back to you, he doesn’t look so dangerous anymore. “Are you ready?”

You’re nervous, still doubting what may come of your future, but you’re not scared right now. Instead, you nod, and let his warm hands tilt your chin up. You see the black flames ignite in his eyes once again, just before Jisung presses a searing kiss to your lips and fire shoots down your body.

It’s a simple kiss, as simple as pushing a stamp into a wax seal, but when he leans back to observe the heat blooming across your cheeks, your mind is gone. You feel his forehead touch yours, the whisper of his breath on your skin, the burning impact of his next words, but you’re only barely keeping up.

Because you definitely no longer regret coming to this party, or losing that stupid drinking game.

“You’re mine now, baby,” Jisung whispers against your cheek, and flashes you a wink. “Just call me and I’m yours.”

@whatdoyouwanttocallmefor @estella-novella @babyphotos0325 @softfor-svtptg @furfoxsake22 @tubelightanyaa @kayleefriedchicken @rockstarkkami @sp1derst0rrr @eastjonowhere @its-stayville-forever @allenajade-ite @naraportokala @jinniejjam @blackberryrains @feetoffthemalfoy @highandalive @scarlet789 @ramadiiiisme @thecutiepieme @lemonn015 @p0is0ned-peach

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[yukimiyaz]

TABLE ETIQUETTE

chigiri hyouma x gn!reader

includes: vampire chigiri. count chigiri. blood/drinking blood. kind of objective talk of humans as food/meals. heavily suggestive. reader is wearing a corset & suit.

notes: well. i’m back. and unwell lol. not proofread we die like men.

Chigiri Hyouma is a man of etiquette.

Doors held open. Announcements when entering a room. Eye contact while listening. Faint touches–when appropriate–during polite conversation. A bow of his head as he takes his leave. Taps of a napkin to corners of mouths. Over coats over rain puddles. Pristine hair in perfectly threaded plaits.

Polite. Charming. Charismatic. Poised. Elegant.

Even now, as his chilled palm presses to the warm bend in your lumbar, it’s proper. Not too low, not too high; just the right height as he leads you around the ballroom by the lining of your corset. A true gentleman, on full display.

“Chigiri.”

“Barou,” he greets, tipping his head in acknowledgement. A dashing grin pulls the edges of his mouth in a curve so delicious you have to glance away. “Good evening. I trust you are well.”

Barou hums. You smile.

“Shoei,” and you hold out your hand. He takes it–barely–and cants his head down to feign a kiss. His pale lips never quite press to the sanguine of your knuckles just like his eyes never quite catch yours. A display, an endearment.

A show of respect to the count on your flank.

“Evening,” he grunts, because he should, because he wants to. Only to you, only for your partner, but still. The thought is sweet. 

You giggle as you retract your hand and lace it with your other in front of your abdomen. Manners, etiquette. This man was not meant for a world like this and yet you think that's actually what makes it so becoming of him. Strong features and even stronger build. Waistcoats fit him well, even if he tugs at his color far more than a man of his rank should.

Chigiri never tugs at his collar in such a way.

Of course he doesn’t, because Hyouma, as you know him, is a man of class. He knows the footwork to every ballroom dance and the order of every dining room utensil. His lips glossed with a cherry tint and his cheeks to match, showing dignity. Head held up high but not haughty, chin raised but no look thrown down the nose.

Classy–in every right. Yes, Chigiri Hyouma is a man of class, a man of the utmost class. His fang catches on the corner of his lip, his hand presses more firmly to the base of your back.

“And the hors d'oeuvres?” 

You hadn’t noticed it until he asked, but at the collar of Barou’s shirt, hidden between the ruffles he keeps tugging at, is the tiniest speck of burgundy. Wine, perhaps. A dribble from a little too sloppy of a sip, one would think. Just something a little careless from a bulk of a man grappling for any sense of inebriation to deal with the stuffiness of the night’s events.

Chigiri reaches forward, slender fingers pinching the cloth between perfectly manicured claws. He inspects it, and you nearly miss it. 

There’s a slight twinge in his brow, a hitch in the bob of his throat as he combs over the drop with his eyes. Deducing, conspiring. It’s disdain, in the faintest form. Something out of order, something not quite right. Chigiri isn’t a freak about these things, but he isn’t a practitioner of them either.

A single wave of his hand as he pulls away and a service hand is gliding over a second later. Just as polite as ever, Hyouma greets him.

“Would you care to take my guest to find another blouse?”

“Of course, sir,” he nods, and gestures for Barou to follow him. The latter does, albeit begrudgingly and while mumbling muffled curses under his breath, but he does nonetheless.

“How kind of you,” you commend, half-taunting half-sincere, as you flash him a grin.

“I am nothing if not hospitable,” he counters, without missing a beat and with his full attention on you. 

Keen roseate irises tracing the outline of your own, your cheeks, your lips. You swallow. Chigiri’s hand slips to your elbow. 

“That you are,” you agree, because it’s true. Chigiri is oh so charmingly hospitable. Extravagant dinners, affectionate displays, endearing escapades. All of each so well thought out; all in celebration of you. Even this gala, right now, is thrown in your favor. For what occasion, you do not remember. But for you, it is, regardless–always. “Must be some tasty hors d'oeuvres.”

He laughs lightly as you take a sly sip of your wine–just wine. Grape only, for your taste. Or strawberry, or muscadine. You hear Chigiri’s selection is exquisite, but your stomach is not so.. inclined to your partner’s diet. Not so well acclimated. 

You nearly gag just thinking about taking a swig from his collection. 

“Yes,” he adheres. “I permitted Isagi to partake in the rumination of this lot. His choice of selections certainly tend to be more…” he pauses, catches a fang on the edge of his grin as he trails his fingertips down the length of your forearm, “Favorable, among the crowds. I thought it best he settle my indecisive debacle, since I do not indulge.” 

A chill claws its way up the slim crevice between your spine and bodice. A sharp inhale, a glance away. You feel the heat on the back of your neck before the swirl in your stomach.

“How hospitable indeed,” you circle back, daring a glance through your lashes. 

Of course he doesn’t indulge–how uncouth of an implication. Chigiri Hyouma, the count of such high esteem, does not need–no, does not want such privy finger foods. He reserves himself for better things, richer things; full of flavor things. Delectable and pristine and exclusive.

Chigiri Hyouma’s reserve means nothing to him because he reserves himself to you and you alone. After all, it is not proper etiquette to share one’s plate. 

And he is a man of proper etiquette. 

“My dear,” he addresses, and you cling. To his fingers that find their way to yours. To the sweet saccharine words that drip from his love laced lips. To his hypnotizing gaze that draws you a millimeter–two, three–closer. You cling and adhere and, oh.

Something about a rich man devoted to you makes you hot inside.

“Mhm?”

“I would also like to enjoy tasty hors d'oeuvres.” 

And he says it in a way that is so courteous. With a kiss to your knuckles and a thumb to chase it. A stare so intent it’s enticing. A grip so sure it’s unfair. He says it politely, gently–not pushy, never pushy. 

“If you would be so inclined to join me?”

Like such a fucking gentleman.

“Mhm,” agreeing before you can even think it over properly, before you can even chew it over. But it wouldn’t matter, would it? Because when have you ever, how could you ever, say no to him? Turn down such manners? Decline such a kind offer? So respectful. Well behaved. Well bred. 

Well trained.

“How hospitable.” 

It’s him, this time, saying this to you. Commending you for your acceptance of his invitation, for his outreach of privy. There's a bubbling in your gut, a giddiness biting back at the confines of your corset. He holds out his arm and you take it; lace yours through and allow him to lead. Skirting through petticoats and performers, acquaintances and aristocrats, towards the edge of the ballroom. The heel of your shoes click in a dazed symphony and Chigiri places his gloved palm over your arm.

A sense of security, an implication of trust. A courtesy–through and through. 

As you reach the doors they are pushed open by the two men standing guard at them. It isn’t until then do you hear them–the hors d'oeuvres. Faint whines and weak moans mingling with dancing viola and sonorous cello. You catch a glimpse as you pass the door; Isagi, mouth latched to a pretty brunette by the jugular, and Rin, tugging at dark wrist. 

You swallow, throat thick, and turn away. Tasty, you’ve heard. Delicious, it’s been countered.

Your eyes trail up to the man walking beside you. He’s already staring back.

“Delectable,” he supplies, as if he could read your mind; like he’s plucked the thread of your thoughts right out of the seams of your mind. “You are purely so.”

And, oh. You are far more than an hors d'oeuvre. 

A break away, a sidestep. You find yourself nearly shying away now, even though a comeback is on the tip of your tongue. Another chill, a deeper flush to your cheeks. You clear your throat and hope the great observer is not too mindful of you now.

(You know he is).

“That’s inappropriate,” you condemn, finally, as the bat unhooks its fangs from your cotton tethered tongue. “We are still in public, you know.”

The halls are empty, save for a few stragglers stumbling from back rooms and servers on their way to discard empty rimmed glasses. A weak attempt to stave off your embarrassment, but an attempt nonetheless.

You are simply lucky the count chooses to indulge you.

“You’re right,” he atones, grasps your hand again to place yet another kiss there. But this one lingers; a second too long to be considered chaste, a breath too chilling to be completely genteel. “Forgive me, my love. I do not wish to tarnish your compelling image. Will you?”

You nod, because what else could one possibly do when rose petals are staring heartfelt daggers into your soul. You nod and you sigh, contented.

A vicious slice of a grin cuts through you. “Wonderful,” Chigiri adheres as he pulls from you slightly to push open a heavy door. “After you.”

And there it is, the charm. He puts you first and places you second and loops you to third as is. He circles you, in everything, and keeps his priorities straight. Like a proper man–a count–should. You listen and step into the room. Pressing a palm to your stomach, you urge yourself to settle. 

You suppose you do, in a sense, at the familiarity of it all. The plush cushions of the couch, kissed by the curtains as they dance lightly in the breeze from the window. Cool night air tickles your warm cheeks as you make your way over to it, positioning yourself fittingly just shy of the middle. And you watch.

Chigiri is a man of etiquette. He does things just so and in the way they should be done. He closes the door behind him gently with not so much as a muted thud. He glides over to the vanity on the wall and stands in front of it, and the routine begins.

Sheer glove of his left hand tugged loose from thumb index, middle, ring, pinky, then off in one swift thring, only to be placed neatly on the hardwood. Then the right hand, the same way, until it finds its mate on the tabletop. Next, the cufflinks. Undone and refastened on themselves before being placed with a pair of clinks into their glass case. Then, the overcoat; shrugged out of and folded over once before being draped across the florals of the vanity bench. 

It is now, and only now, does he turn to you.

“How are you finding this evening, my dear?” he questions as his fingers find their way to the buttons on the front of his vest, undoing the first one.

You try to swallow again. “I’m finding it well.”

“And the dancing?” The vest is off now, placed on the cushion next to you.

“Tiring.”

“Ah, I imagine so. You must be approaching exhaustion,” he sighs as he steps in front of you. Fingertips to shirt collars–he still does not tug. No, he gently unknots the furrow of his tie and moves along smoothly to the pearls. One slips out, then two. 

“Yes,” you mutter, and find yourself gripping the hem of the cushion ever so slightly.

Chigiri kneels, now. Left knee down, then right to follow suit onto the plush of the woven rug in front of you. The buttons of his shirt are unfastened all the way down to the middle of his abdomen. Stone carved ridges peaking through, collarbones cutting out of the loose linen window. He reaches for his sleeves, now, and begins to roll. Neatly, of course. One fold over the other.

“Fraternizing can be so draining,” he contends through heavy lashes, deepened irises and laden lids. He’s wrapping up the last sleeve, tucked to his elbow, outlining the muscles of his forearm deliciously. “I, for one, am simply famished.”

“Y-Yeah?” You ask, and curse your voice for coming out so shaky. Like you’re nervous, like you’re scared. 

“Yes,” Chigiri says; you aren’t sure to correct your improper verbage or to agree, either way it has you sinking in the cushions, just a bit. Just enough that your knee grazes his shoulder. Just enough to be an invitation.

And yet, despite that, Hyouma is still such a gentleman.

“May I?”

You nod, because you’re too busy getting ready to bite your tongue to even attempt to use it for words. A cool hand skims by your ankle, then your calf. It trails its way along the inside of your knee, fingertips dancing in the moonlight seeping in from behind you. You peer through the candlelight, admire how Chigiri’s pretty face appears softer, here.

Once his hand raises above your knee, a shudder escapes you. Chigiri grins, you bite the corner of your lip, and he pushes your legs further apart, slots himself in between. And he looks at you, as he presses in with more fervor, now, snakes his way up to the corset that conceals the waistband of your trousers. His hand drifts back, past your hip and is met by the other as he leans in, reaches behind you to the ribbon laced there.

And now, only now, does he tug.

He does so just enough to loosen the knot of the bow, pull it until it’s undone–until you’re undone. He’s so close, his face inches from yours, his chest melding in, his torso to your thighs. He start to loosen the torque of your binding, little by little, bit by bit, until your breath starts to seep back into you. Until you are, finally, able to swallow down an inhale.

Your hot exhale fans across his cheeks and he grins at you. Sweet and soft and in a way that is so posh it makes you want to scream. But you fight it; the urge.

To lean forward, to reach out, to grapple. You fight and you wait and you sit still and pretty just like you’ve practiced so well to do. You do this because that is polite, after all. That is proper etiquette.

Your back is guided to the cushion behind you before you can even realize you had been leaning forward wantonly this whole time. You’d blush if you held more shame in your bones, but you long since gave that up. No need to tip toe when you can galavant.

You leave the tip toeing to Hyouma, after all.

Once it is loose enough, Chigiri slides his hands underneath the binding of your corset. He lingers there, on the plump of your abdomen, before he finds his end goal. He takes the fasten between his fingers and undoes it tantalizingly slow. You think you’re going mad. You feel this isn’t very courteous at all. 

“I thought you said you were famished.”

It comes out before there’s a chance of stopping it. Where you suddenly found the gall, you aren’t sure, but oh, does it ignite something. A gleam, a glimmer. Nearly enough to miss there’s a sheen that glosses over Hyouma’s eyes as he settles deeper on his knees before you.

A button pops loose out from the seam of your trousers.

“You’re far more chatty than Isagi’s hors d'oeuvres,” he notes with a sharp wrench of the waistband that has it settling at your hips, “My dear.”

A chuckle escapes you–from bewilderment, anxiety–you’re not quite sure the origins matter when there’s such a powerful man knelt before you. 

“Tastier, too,” you counter, fix him with a slow blink of your own. 

And that, oh that gets to him. 

“Tastier,” he agrees, pulls at your pants until they’re past your hips, thighs, calves. On the floor, tossed to the side, discarded as if they did cost an arm and a leg. (And you would know, you’ve seen the price of those). “More delectable.”

He leans in, presses an open mouthed kiss to the inside of your left knee. He slips his hand under it, while he’s at it, and hooks it over his shoulder.

“Piquant.”

Another kiss a little higher, this time paired with a nip of his teeth. Ever so faint, ever so light. A breathy gasp is snatched from you. Your fingers dig deeper into the cushion. Cool release, slick lips have you nearly quivering. Enticing, taunting. He’s so pretty.

“Delectable.”

He’s nearing the crease of your hip and thigh now. At the inner part where the few strands of hair that have slipped out of his braid tickle you just enough to make you restless. Though, if you are truthful, everything about this man makes you so. He nips at your flesh again, with a little more intent this time, a little more pressure. A tease, a taunt.

A warning, to be polite.

“My darling, you are just divine.”

And Chigiri digs in like a man starved. As he takes his first bite into the meat of your thigh, piercing fangs embedding themselves and staking claim. You slap a hand over your mouth to stifle the initial scream that rips its way out of the confines of your throat. You breathe hard–rapid and heavy for the first few seconds as your vision burns white hot.

And then, as cool tongue lavs over twin indents, it begins to settle. A slow burn, a duller sort of pain. It’s more of a throb in your muscles as Chigiri grasps at your hips. He tugs you to him, mouth still latched, and sucks. 

It's deep and hard and writhing; you can’t help it. Your hand finds the back of his head and you tug at the hair there, knocking more out of the plait as your other attempts to ground yourself to the sofa. 

And Hyouma is feasting.

He is a man of honor and class and elegance; but when he is here, on his knees before you and drinking from your supply like it is the manna from heaven, that is all gone. His table etiquette goes out the window and suddenly he is all smeared lips and matted hair and raunchy sacrilege in the name of dinner time.

And to think, he was so concerned with a speck of blood on Barou’s collar.

“Hyou-Hyouma,” you whine, fighting to keep your consciousness intact as every minute passes. 

A gulp is your answer, and another. And another. You tighten your grip in his hair, peer through batting lashes at the hair getting stuck to crimson coated cheeks. He pushes himself in, like he wishes he could bury himself here, between your thighs. You feel hot; and willing, and wanting, and oh.

You might just pass out. 

“Hyou..” It’s weaker, this time, your whine. 

And for a moment you think it falls on deaf ears. Chigiri gets in a trance sometimes, after all. Drinks a little too much a little too fast and gets himself a little too blood drunk on the high of it all. But after another few seconds the gulps turn to sips and the sips turn to sucks, until there’s only kisses being placed to your freshly made punctures. A salve over it, like a blood smeared band aid. 

Chigiri presses his cheek to your other thigh–slick and blood stained–and gazes up at you. He’s all dopey grins and lazy smiles as his thumb traces circles into your hip bone.

“My dear,” he adheres, affection dripping off of his tongue right along with your bodily fluids.

You gaze at him, glassy eyed and lethargic. Patting his hair down, a weak chuckle weasels its way out of you at the sight. How can someone so proper simply be so ravenous? Someone so posh be so besmirched?

“You’re going to need a new blouse,” you taunt, hand dropping to rest on his shoulder, where his once pristinely white shirt now drapes over his angular frame, now dyed a deep seeded scarlet. 

He laughs at that; hearty and kind and loving. He gives your hip another squeeze, closes his eyes in content.

“Yes, my beloved. And thank you,” a sloppy kiss pressed to you, “For this bountiful meal.”

liked & reblogs appreciated :)

[imliterallyf7ckin9crazy]

“𝔐𝔶 𝔤𝔯𝔞𝔰𝔰 𝔦𝔰 𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔩𝔩𝔶 𝔤𝔯𝔢𝔢𝔫 𝔞𝔫𝔡… 𝔥𝔬𝔫𝔢𝔰𝔱𝔩𝔶 ℑ 𝔠𝔞𝔫’𝔱 𝔢𝔳𝔢𝔫 𝔣𝔲𝔠𝔨𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔠𝔞𝔭 𝔫𝔬 𝔪𝔬𝔯𝔢 𝔱𝔥𝔦𝔰 𝔦𝔰 𝔞 𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔩𝔩𝔶 𝔡𝔞𝔯𝔨 𝔱𝔦𝔪𝔢 𝔣𝔬𝔯 𝔪𝔢… ℑ’𝔪 𝔤𝔬𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔱𝔥𝔯𝔬𝔲𝔤𝔥 𝔞 𝔩𝔬𝔱” (hope yall get this ref)

Nam gyu x reader x thanos

Smoking weed with thangyu :3

Warnings: weed, smoking it, I don’t think they are crazy toxic in this one actually, kind of a poly relationship but not like officially in words? Idk, pre game/ no game AU bitch I have no clue. If you don’t like weed/aren’t comfortable pls don’t read and pls don’t judge 🙏

A/N: this is for me basically. I just thought this would be funny and I haven’t written in like 2 or 3 days and I wanna get back into it bc I miss it IDK😭 and these two are my favorites. America is geeking out and I’m stuck with it for 4 years so to cope imma write abt smoking zaza w squid game characters.

Also these are head cannons I just wanted to have that lyric as the title lol

_______

- dream and nightmare rotation somehow.

- I feel like smoking with them starts out chill ASF. Maybe yall start back at home and roll up, the three of yall cramped together on the couch.

- thanos is chilling at the arm rest end of the couch, eyebrows furrowed in concentration as he meticulously distributes the goods evenly on the paper and rolling it to perfection. He even knows how to make those cute pattern filters. He repeats this process a few more times

- you are in the middle, crushed between him and nam gyu. Your head is nestled right on his shoulder blade as he works, and your right arm is looped through his left. No matter how many times he does it, you still always comment on how he’s “faster than last time” or that he’s done a great job. If he had a tail he’d be wagging it

- and then nam gyu is PRESSED up against you. One arm is clutching your torso as he practically lays on you, and the other is reached all the way behind you to rest on thanos’ back. His hands are never ever still so he’d be lightly tapping a rhythm on your skin as he waits impatiently

- once thanos is all done it’s time to smoke 🙏 now here’s some actual stoner HCs. I’ll make it short

Thanos: I wouldn’t say he’s a light weight bc he can get super high and be SET. But he just gets super high every time. Somehow he glitched out of high tolerance hell. Also he is a joint hog >:( ik it’s infuriating to try and get him to pass the fucking joint. Prolly uses it as a mic. Smh.

Nam gyu: has to smoke a lot to get high. Like eventually he gets there but he has to smoke one together with yall (bc he wants to be included) and one for himself. Bro gets sleepy, HELLA. Don’t matter indica or stativa. Honk shoo mimimi. I would say it makes him not keep his hands to himself but when has he ever??? Be prepared.

Together: world’s most stoppable duo. Literally whatever brain cells they had die. They are hanging off each other, laughing at genuinely anything, they don’t make any fucking sense, and to make it all worse they reek but tell each other they don’t. Once they’ve smoked they like to hit the streets together, maybe go clubbing :3 ends in 14 arrests idek

- they don’t skip you in a rotation EVER. They take their system serious asf. It’s always been thanos, you, nam gyu, repeat. And they will be dammed if you don’t get your hits in. They insist on shot gunning it to you (and each other but you ain’t hear that from me)

- they will never say no to more, three joints is just TO START. They got bongs, pipes, carts, brah everything

- they are extra sweet to you when smoking weed. Very cuddly, keeping you between them and then holding each other. You are literally trapped that way. And they keep looking at you with hazy eyes…

- hungry bastards. Usually they get food to eat before and then they can partake after. Sometimes they take you out to like a street vender for a cheap munchie session.

- not often tho. They like you keep you inside and away from other people. They like having you curled up between them, looking at them with glassy eyes, smoking the weed THEY bring you. Thanos and nam gyu are really possessive guys so they like moments where it’s literally just you three chilling.

- they be talking about the most random shit if all time. If yall remember the shower thoughts trend, that’s just the shit they say.

- they the typa guys when high to ask if you’d still love them if they were worms

- (you said yes and that you’d make a little compost bin for them to live in. They liked it)

- compliment city!! “Baby you’re so pretty” from nam gyu and a “don’t look away señorita, i wanna see you” from thanos.

- they hold hands with you.

- if you happen to green out they are with you in the bathroom. Nam gyu will hold your hair if you throw up and thanos is getting water and setting up for bed.

- tbh not all smoke seshs end in getting freaky, but it’s high in likelihood. Bc like cmon. They are freaky. And sometimes the weed be weeding. And they love you, and each other.

- but sometimes they end in just yall cozied up together in bed, rambling abt random shit, holding each other tightly as smoke clings in the air.

_______

Idk I just thought this was funny. I think the world would be much better if politicians talked shit out over a fresh J imma be real. America is hell.

[noodle-is-unstable]

“HeAr mE oUT” and showing a conventionally attractive man, woman, human, human esque thing, anthropomorphic animal, robot, regular animal, etc IS NOT A HEAR ME OUT ILL DIE ON THAT HILL. EVERYONE AND THEIR MOTHER WILL HEAR YOU OUT ABOUT MUFASA AND SPIRIT THE HORSE AND LOLA BUNNY OFC THEY WILL (I LOVED Lola bunny in space jam oh my god when I was a kid I was like oh my fucking god Lola bunny miss ma’am helLO!!! Gay awakening fr she inspired me to have a crush on a classmate in like 3rd grade and I remember thinking “I wish I was a boy so I could be her boyfriend and hold her hand” then I stole my dads lingerie magazine and I scolded him for reading it and I hid under the dining table and looked at women in their underwear. Seriously how did no one notice I was fucking queer)

Anyway bout to blast my hear me outs that aren’t a lot bc I tend to be superficial and thirsty for conventionally attractive characters. Ahem 😑👓🤏🏻

Mewtwo. Yeah you heard me. The fucking Pokémon. He’s cool as shit and he made good fucking points. He fucking TALKS. He’s just like grumpy bf coded to me no I’m not taking notes.

The Epicurean Paradox. Literally eight lines of philosophical text from Epicurus and I fuck with the principle to the point I would FUCK the principle. DK how I’d find a way.

Curly from Mouthwashing. Not pre accident Curly. Well I mean OF COURSE pre accident but post accident I’d still be saying hear me out (I love that game and I’m not excusing ANYTHING that a lot of ppl seem to be missing from the fucking story. Not spoiling it but literally so many people are missing the fucking point. I’m just saying I WOULD fuck post accident Curly.) ((I can go on for hours about Mouthwashing but I won’t))

Jack from Jack in the Box is NOT a hear me out it is a WOULD. So is Megatron. He’s conventionally attractive. He is a WOULD. Doctor Phosphorus is also a would bc he’s a conventionally attractive skeleton.

This is choctopi on instagram. Like they’re attractive these are would to me if I had to say “hear me out” for you to consider then I’d actually be surprised. Idk how this is a hear me out this is just hot. If I had to explain WHY they are hot… you explain WHY are we friends

Venom is also a would and a monster fucker thing he’s not a hear me out. No I’m not taking constructive criticism on that. But like the person who posted the robot angel named Sunday? Absolutely would. In the kitchen, bathroom, bedroom, garage, dining table, in public and at church—

You know I adore you but I need you to chill 😅

In the real world those are valid hear me outs. Tumblr is just a freaky lil hell site of everything fuckers and size kinks

What's kinky to some is vanilla to others and we don't need to shame people

Just because it's an obvious would for a lot of us doesn't mean it's not a hear me out 💖

[the-blind-assassin-12]

Unbirthday

A/N: Although I am now two entire weeks late (I am the actual worst) this was written as a birthday gift for @something-tofightfor, because she is the fucking best and I love her guts. Rachael, I hope you enjoy this silly little story. Since Frankie Morales is apparently a "fictional character" and isn't "real" I couldn't wrap him up and send him to you, so this was the best I could do. Sorry it became an unbirthday gift - but it sort of works with the story that way. Anywho, here's hoping that this trip around the sun is a GOOD one!

And if it's your unbirthday today, happy unbirthday to you, too!

Word Count: 6.2k

Warnings: alcohol, and Frankie's shoulders and back making a shirt work very hard.

Summary: Spending your birthday in a brand new city goes from zero to sixty thanks to a co-worker who is determined to become a friend... and thanks to the breathtakingly handsome guy she introduces you to.

You had only been at your new job for a few weeks when your birthday rolled around, so when you walked into your office and flicked the lights on that morning, you were shocked to find a balloon tied to your chair and a white bakery box holding an assortment of cupcakes atop your desk. 

What? Who did th-

“Surprise!” 

You spun around to see a handful of your co-workers gathered in the doorway behind you, bright smiles on their faces as they wished you a happy birthday. 

“Oh, shit!” You let out a laugh as your hand came up to cover your mouth, prompting more laughs from the others. 

This is so nice, I wasn’t... Despite the fact that on your very first day at the firm, the office had been celebrating someone else’s birthday, you hadn’t expected anything for yours. Because I’m still brand new here, they hardly know me. You got along well almost immediately with the people you worked with, which was fantastic. Still, the fact that they embraced you quickly enough that they would want to do something for your birthday came as a genuine surprise that gave you a small rush of warmth. 

Not that you needed it. January in Tampa was certainly not January in the midwest. You hadn’t felt a chill since you took the transfer, a fact that you made sure to text your shivering friends back home every few days. But even though it was a balmy 68°F and you were wearing short sleeves under your light sweater, the added warmth of your colleagues’ kindness was more than welcome.  

Dropping your hand, you beamed at the group which had grown by two more associates from the interior architecture department down the hall, Mel and Casey. “Thank you all so much! You guys really didn’t have to do anything at all. I-” 

“Oh, stuff it, of course we did!” Gloria, whose office shared a glass partition with yours and with whom you traded exaggerated expressions while on client calls, stepped forward and threw her arms around you. “You’re the best transfer this office has ever had, we lucked out when we got you! Of course we’re going to celebrate your birthday.” 

You chuckled, giving her a quick, loose hug in return. “Gloria, did you do this? Also, weren’t you a transfer from the New York office?” 

“I was. Like I said,” she released you and stepped back, grinning. “You’re the best transfer we’ve had. Happy birthday, Ohio.” 

The rest of the group called out individual well-wishes before filing back to their own offices and cubicles, leaving just you and Gloria.

“Thank you,” you said again, reaching out to quickly squeeze her arm. “It really means a lot to me.” You sighed, finally putting down your bag and shrugging off your sweater. “I’ve been loving living down here, but the past few days, I don’t know, I guess I’ve been a little homesick. I don’t usually do a ton for my birthday, but this is the first one where I won’t see any of my family or my friends from back home so…” You gestured to the bakery box sitting next to your keyboard. “This was just really nice of you.” 

“You’re welcome.” She scrunched her nose. “Thanks for being ten thousand times better to work with than that dipshit you replaced, Kevin.” 

You snorted. Though you’d never had the displeasure of meeting the notorious Kevin, you’d heard enough about him to know that his presence in the office was definitely not missed. “No problem, though from what I understand it’s a very low bar.” 

“Which you leap over with the ease and grace of a…” She circled her hand through the air. “A… Oh, I don’t know, whatever the hell leaps gracefully. I’m a landscape architect, not a poet.” 

That made you laugh again. “Speaking of which,” you pointed at your computer screen. “Are you ready for that conference call with the city planner? J.R. approved our designs, so-” 

“Yeah, yeah,” she cut you off, nodding. “All set. Designs for the new park. Not looking forward to dealing with Sweetheart McGee, but-” You rolled your eyes as she used the nickname you’d given to one of the men you’d been working with from the city planner’s office who called the to of you “sweetheart” every time you’d spoken to him. “But it should be a smooth call. More importantly, though-” 

You had a sneaking suspicion that whatever was coming next wasn’t, in fact, more important than the biggest project that the landscape department had in house at the moment. Gloria had a tendency to use the phrase “More importantly, though…” to segue into a conversation about whether or not you wanted to get coffee delivered or which shoes you thought she should wear to her cousin’s wedding or if you thought Greg from IT was cute or not because she could totally set you up with him if you did.

And you were proven right as she finished her sentence. 

“Do you have plans tonight?” 

Shrugging, you shook your head. “Nah. I’ll probably just order in and finally finish unpacking the last of my stuff from the move. There’s a sushi place around the corner from me that I’ve been meaning to try, so… Why are you looking at me like that?” 

The way she was looking at you was a mix of the way you might look at the last puppy in the window at the pet store, combined with the confusion one might display while trying to solve an extremely advanced math equation. 

“Because you cannot just go home and eat sushi by yourself on your birthday.” She held up her hand then, face returning to a neutral expression. “Unless that’s actually what you want to do. And if it is, I won’t judge.” But? “Buuuuut.” She pressed her lips together. “If you want to get out and do something fun? 

You cocked your head to the side. Maybe. There was no harm in seeing what she had in mind. If it wasn’t your speed you still had your backup plan. And I should really get that shit unpacked, but… It doesn’t have to be tonight. “What are you suggesting?”

Gloria’s eyes lit up as you asked, her smile widening. “Well, Benny’s… You met my boyfriend, Benny, last week when he picked me up, remember?” You did, so you nodded. “It’s actually one of his and his brother’s friends’ birthday today, too, or, it was yesterday, but they’re going out tonight because one of them was working last night I think? I don’t know. My point is, it’s just going to be a casual thing down at Duffy’s, and if you want to join, you absolutely should.”

You were about to decline when you asked yourself why you shouldn’t go. 

First of all, you seemed to be on the fast track for an out of office friendship with Gloria. The two of you clicked right away, and though you’d only spent time with her out of work once, you could easily see it happening more and more. And I want that. You had solid friendships back home and scattered far and wide, and those people meant the world to you. But you would be lying to yourself if you said you didn’t want to form a few friendships in your new home, too. 

There was also the fact that the bar she’d mentioned, Duffy’s, was only a few miles from your place. It was actually where you and your sister went for drinks after she helped you move the last of your things into your condo. She’d driven down with you to keep you company on the trip, then taken a flight back home. But before she did, the two of you spent a day exploring your new neighborhood and ended up at Duffy’s. Though you were excited about your new job and the new start in a new place, you were still a little unsure if you’d made the right decision. But when you walked into the well-loved and weathered beach bar that night, something told you that everything was going to work out just as it should. 

And if for some reason that harmonious feeling you got upon entering Duffy’s was a one time thing, you could leave and be home in under eight minutes. And tomorrow’s Saturday, so… Fuck it. 

“You know what?” You nodded, a grin curving up your cheek. “That sounds great, Gloria.” 

She let out a small gasp and clapped her palms together once. “You’ll come?” 

“Yeah.” You nodded again, your grin growing into a full blown smile. “What time?” 

 “Ah! I’m so happy!” She genuinely was, and it made you feel good to know that she was looking forward to getting to know you outside of work. “I think Benny said nine, but I’ll ask him to be sure and then get back to you.” She clapped her hands together again and sucked in a breath as though something just occurred to her. “Oh! And you’ll get to meet Yovanna! I told you about her I think? Anyway, she’s dating Santi, one of the guys in the group. She’s great, you’ll like her.” Gloria chuckled. “And she’ll like you, too.” 

“I hope so!” And if not or if it’s awkward because they’re friends and I’m new… I can just go. 

“No, she will, trust me.” Gloria furrowed her brow and nodded. “You two are actually pretty similar.” She smirked. “You don’t take shit and neither does she.” The slightest hint of mischief sparkled in her eyes as another thing dawned on her. “Wait, two of the guys are very single right now and one of them-” You were trying to stop her right there because you weren’t looking for a setup, but she didn’t let you, simply speaking just a touch louder so all you could do was laugh. “One of them is Benny’s brother, and the other is-” 

You finally got her to stop by waving your arms and forming them into an X shape, still laughing. “Gloria. Stop. I’ll come out because it sounds fun. But I’m not looking for a matchmaker.” 

She held up her hands in surrender, a sheepish smile in place. “Fine. I’m just trying to give you all the information ahead of time.” She winked. “Just in case.” 

“Okay.” You winked back, giving her a thumbs up. “Consider me briefed.” 

Before Gloria could say anything else, Mel’s voice came through the speaker on your desk phone, saying your name. You pressed the button that let you respond. “What’s up, Mel?” 

“Brandon Grant from the city planner’s office is on line one for the conference call with you and Gloria.” From across the room you heard Gloria groan, then looked up to watch her mouth “Sweetheart McGee already?” with a sickly frown on her face, and you had to close your eyes and cover your mouth so you wouldn’t snort into the speaker. “Can I put him through?” 

You cleared your throat and shot Gloria a look. “Can you just give me one minute before you put him on? Tell him I’m on the other line, just so I can log in and get the project files open and get situated.” 

“No problem,” Mel answered. “He’s early, anyway. Just buzz me back when you’re ready.” 

Thanking Mel, you clicked the button to end the call and then let your hands fall against your lap as you faced Gloria. “Alright, you ready to get this over with?” 

“We are really going to deserve those drinks after dealing with this guy.” She sighed, then headed for the door, only to appear a second later on the other side of the glass wall. She sat at her desk and started up her computer, then looked over at you and nodded once. 

You buzzed Mel back and then you were on the line with Brandon Grant, the man stepping right into his nickname upon greeting. 

“Good morning, sweetheart, how you doing today?” 

You cringed, forcing a smile into your voice as you answered. “Oh, you know! Another day in paradise! Are you ready to go over the landscape designs for the new park?” 

For the next hour you and Gloria took Brandon through the possible layouts, explaining why certain plants and elements were chosen, and answering all of his questions while simultaneously keeping a count of how many times he referred to either of you as “sweetheart”. By the time you hung up, the count had reached twelve and he’d thrown in a “hun” as a bonus. 

We definitely deserve those drinks tonight.

But even though he was a pain in the ass to deal with, Sweetheart McGee has chosen one of the three designs you’d proposed, and as long as it was approved by the city council, it would be your first project to move into construction since switching locations. Which is pretty cool. 

You sighed, leaning back in your desk chair as you peeled the paper off of one of the cupcakes from the box your co-workers had left you, reading over your calendar to see what was next on your schedule. Taking a bite, you hummed in satisfaction. Damn, that’s good. 

It was only ten in the morning, but it was already proving to be a better birthday than you hoped for. As much as you tried to focus on work for the rest of the day, you couldn’t help but feel excitement about the prospect of going out later that night. 

Because… It means I could really have a life here. Not just a job. Friends and good times and… You really didn’t want Gloria to try to set you up with anyone. But if it happened naturally? 

Well, if that were the case, you’d be open to anything. 

Sometime after your lunch break, Gloria heard back from Benny and confirmed the time with you, the woman insisting that you let them pick you up despite your protests about how close the bar was to your place. 

“You really don’t have to do that,” You tried one last time. “I don’t mind driving myself, and I don’t want to intrude on your date night or anything.” 

Gloria waved you off and clicked her tongue. “It’s not date night, it’s birthday drinks with friends. I promise you Benny doesn’t mind, and I definitely don’t.” 

Oh, what the hell? It was clear that Gloria was trying to make sure that you felt included, even though you wouldn’t know anyone there aside from her and her boyfriend, whom you’d only exchanged a few words with. You appreciated how welcoming and inviting she was, and knew that she meant well, having been new to the area herself only a year earlier. I can still call an Uber if I have to leave early, and that way I don’t have to worry about having more than two drinks. 

“Okay,” you said, finally giving in with a sigh full of faux exasperation that turned into a laugh. “You win!” You told her that you would text her your address, and then Mel was calling you through the intercom, letting you know that another of your clients was waiting on line one. 

“And I have Annie Fulton from Florida Polytechnic on line two for Gloria,” Mel added. “So if you could tell her to leave you alone and get back to her own desk that would be swell.”

Snorting out a laugh, you looked over at the co-worker who was quickly becoming a friend, only to find that she was laughing, too. “Well,” you said, “You heard Mel. Get out of here.” 

“Alright, alright, I’m going.” She backed out the door, calling out one last thing before she was visible on the other side of the glass wall again. “Can’t wait for later!” 

As you prepped the files for your next call, you realized that you couldn’t wait for later, either.

– – – 

Pope and Yovanna were just getting out of their car when Frankie turned into the lot at Duffy’s, his truck’s headlights sweeping across the other parked cars to reveal that both Millers, as well as a few guys he worked with down at the airfield, were already inside. 

Gang’s all here, I guess. 

He pulled into the spot next to Pope, the other man waving at him through the windshield, his free arm wrapped around Yovanna’s waist. She waved, too, giving him a smile that brightened her whole face. Turning off the ignition, he waved in return, then glanced at his reflection in the rearview mirror, removing his hat and smoothing his hair down before yanking it back down over his curls. 

Good enough. Not trying to impress anyone anyway. 

As soon as he opened his door, he was greeted by Pope’s voice. “Ahí está el viejo!” 

Before Frankie could respond, Yovanna smacked Santi on the arm. “And who are you calling old, hmm? Estás pisándole sus talones.” Frankie laughed at that, reaching past Pope to give Yovanna a hug first. “Happy Birthday, Francisco,” she said, kissing him on the cheek and giving him a squeeze. 

“Thank you,” he replied, grinning at her as they separated. He turned to face his friend then, giving him a nod. “And she’s right, pendejo. You’re catching up. If I’m old, what does that make you?” 

“Still younger than you,” Pope responded with a chuckle, slapping Frankie’s back before slinging an arm around him. 

“Yeah, yeah, alright,” Frankie rolled his eyes. “C’mon, let’s get inside before Benjamin comes looking for us.” 

The night out was happening at Benny’s insistence. Up until two days earlier, Frankie had no birthday plans and he had been just fine with that. Forty three wasn’t exactly a major milestone. And with the way things had only just started to really settle following their return from South America - the reinstatement of his pilot’s license, the finalization of his divorce, getting shared custody of his daughter - he hadn’t had time to think about smaller, more trivial things. Least of all, celebrating his own forty third birthday. 

But Benny claimed that a new beginning at the end of the shitstorm was the perfect time to celebrate. 

Which Frankie thought sounded a little like one of Will’s speeches blended with Benny’s optimism and garnished with a twist of Pope’s persuasiveness, but at the same time, he kind of saw the point that his friend was trying to make. 

It’s less about my birthday and more about… He swallowed, flexing his right hand and then loosening it and letting it fall to his side. More about everything that comes after. 

The after. That was something that Frankie could readily celebrate. The fact that he, that all four of them, had survived the biggest mistake that any of them had ever made and could still fill their lives with good things, big and small. That was something he could drink to. 

Besides, it’s not actually my birthday today. It was yesterday. 

That didn’t stop Benny from letting the whole bar think otherwise. 

“Hey! Happy Birthday, Fish!” The younger of the Miller brothers exclaimed as Frankie, Pope and Yovanna stepped inside. He raised both arms, a full pitcher in one hand and a stack of empty glasses in the other. Behind him, Frankie saw Will stand from a table where he had been sitting with Gloria before making his way over to say hello as Yovanna made her way over to take Will’s place at the table. But who is that other woman? 

You turned then, laughing at something that Gloria had said. And even though he could only see half of your face from the angle of where you were sitting, he felt an instant attraction at the way that laugh brightened your eyes. I don’t know who she is, but I want to. 

“There he is,” Will said, clapping him on the shoulder with a grin. “Happy birthday, Morales. What are you now, sixty? Sixty five?” 

“Cool it, Ironhead, I’m only three years older than you.” Frankie responded, feigning offense and shrugging Will’s hand away. 

“Yeah, yeah,” Will laughed as Benny passed a full beer to Frankie. “We’re all on our way to the old folks home.” 

“Speak for yourselves,” the younger man interjected, filling and passing a glass to Pope, too. “Gloria and I are still thriving in our thirties, so-” 

“So that means you’re paying for drinks?” Pope chimed in through a smirk as he gripped his glass. “Wow. How generous of you, Benny.” 

Benny rolled his eyes. “Ha, ha.” Setting the pitcher down, he raised his own glass and the other three followed suit. “To Frankie. Cheers to being another year wiser than these wiseasses.” He cocked his head in Will and Pope’s direction. 

“Now hold on a minute, Ben, I-” 

But Frankie didn’t let Pope get the rest of his protest out before clinking his glass to the three that were waiting. “No, I think that was a perfect toast. Thanks, Benny.” He took a swig of his drink, and even though he hadn’t really wanted to come out, he was already glad that he had. Nights out with the guys weren’t rare occasions, not by a long shot. But he was still grateful that he got to have them. And tonight’s just getting started. 

Yuri and Ed from the airfield filed over then to wish Frankie a happy birthday, followed by a few other friends and acquaintances that Benny and Will had spread the word to. After about an hour of mingling, he finally made his way over to the table where the rest of the group was sitting, dropping into a seat next to Gloria. 

“Happy birthday, Frankie!” She spoke over the music and chatter as she leaned over to give him a loose hug. 

“Thank you, Glo.” He smiled at her as he pulled back. “It’s nice to see you, thanks for coming out.” 

She waved a hand as she reached for the handle of the pitcher, Benny scooching it towards her without breaking from the conversation he was having with Will and Pope. “Of course! Wouldn’t miss it.” She poured herself a half glass of beer, then wordlessly asked if he wanted a refill, too. 

Nodding, he held his glass in place. “Thanks,” he murmured, looking over his shoulder as she topped him off. “Hey who did I see you talking to before?” And where is she now?

A mischievous grin stretched across her lips as she looked up at him and set the pitcher on the table. What is that look for? “A friend from work,” she responded, telling him your name. “A single friend,” she added.

Frankie huffed out a short laugh. “I’m not- I didn’t-” 

“I know you didn’t.” Gloria winked at him. “I just want you to have all the information,” she added, knocking the rim of her glass to his. 

“Well…” He raised his glass to his lips, smiling behind it. Well… That’s good to know. “Okay.” 

“Oh! And it’s her birthday, too, so I invited her out.” 

What? And she didn’t have other plans? “Oh. Well, I’m glad you did,” he said, setting his drink on a cardboard coaster and letting his fingers slide down the chilled glass. “The more the merrier.” 

He looked up and in the direction of the restrooms just as you and Yovanna came through the hallway that led to them, and when he did, he locked eyes with you. Fuck, she’s beautiful. He felt his smile grow again at the sight of you, especially when he noticed your slight intake of breath as your eyes met his. He watched Yovanna say something into your ear that made you cover your face and laugh, and then she raised her hand to wave at him. 

I wonder what she said to her. He raised one eyebrow along with his hand as you dropped yours from your face. The remnants of your laughter were still written all over your cheeks and again he felt an undeniable pull, a desire to get to know you. Because I want to see that smile again. And I want to put it there. 

His thoughts were interrupted by Pope tapping the table in front of him. “Hey, ground control to Catfish.” Frankie blinked, turning his attention back to his friends. “You’re not going deaf on us, are you? I asked if you’re in.” 

Picking up an unused coaster, he flung it like a frisbee at Pope, who batted it down in one smooth motion. “Just selectively.” 

“Ha, ha.” Pope rolled his eyes. “So does that mean you don’t want to go to the Lightning game on Wednesday?” 

“The Lightning?” Frankie took a sip of his beer, eyebrows drawn together. “Since when are you a hockey fan? Do you even know anything about hockey?”

“Oh, believe me, he does not.” Yovanna laughed as she dropped into the booth bench next to Pope, her arm going around his shoulders so that her fingers could card through the hair that curled behind his ear. He turned to face her, both of them wearing ear to ear grins. “We watched the game last night and he had no clue what was going on the whole time.” 

“I didn’t,” he admitted, garnering snickers and snorts from both Miller brothers. “But I’m learning.” He shrugged. “The tickets are from work. We just signed a contract with Amalie Arena so I’ll get tickets a few times a year. So I figured why not broaden my horizons?” 

“It’s not the easiest game to understand right away, but if you give it a few games and actually pay attention, you’ll catch on.” Another voice joined the conversation then, and everyone turned towards where you stood at the edge of the table. “I have a friend who’s a big fan so I’ve watched a few games with her.” Giving a small shake of your head, you laughed. “I still don’t know all the rules. It’s a wild sport, but it’s fun.” 

“See?” Pope gestured at you with one hand. “I don’t have to know the rules to have fun.” 

“Oh, good.” Frankie placed his palm flat on the table. “So your short attention span should be just fine then.” His friend’s response was to flip him the bird, the rest of the table laughing before falling back into conversation as Frankie stood and faced you. “Hi, sorry I didn’t get to introduce myself yet. I’m Francisco.” He shook his head. “Frankie. Let me grab you a chair.”  

– – – 

You hadn’t even finished your first drink yet, so you knew the rush of warmth you felt in that moment had nothing to do with the alcohol and everything to do with Frankie’s slightly lopsided smile. 

Fuck, he’s handsome. He pulled a chair away from an empty table and plopped it next to his. And chivalrous. 

“Thank you.” You sat, returning his smile with one of your own, and telling him your name as Gloria slid your glass across the table from where you were sitting before to your new seat between Frankie and Yovanna. “And happy birthday.” You lifted your drink in his direction before taking a sip. “Thanks for letting me crash your plans.” 

“Thank you.” His grin spread wider, lifting his cheeks into his eyes. “Happy birthday to you, too.’ He tipped his drink so that he could clink the rim of his glass to yours. “And you’re welcome. I’m glad Gloria invited you.” 

Your eyes darted over just in time to see Gloria shoot you a wink over Frankie’s shoulder. “Yeah,” you said, still smiling, your heart beating just a blip faster. “Me too.” 

Over the next hour and a half that became even more true as you fell easily into conversation with the group. Gloria had been right about you and Yovanna clicking, and the guys were just as easy to get along with. Since there were other people there for Frankie’s birthday than just the seven seated at the table, he got up a few times to go spend some time with them, too, but each time he came back he returned his focus to you, either commenting on something that you were telling the others, or asking you questions if you weren’t part of the larger conversation happening. 

You told him about your job at the architecture firm, and about the transfer that brought you down to Tampa in the first place. Will and Benny chimed in when you talked about how different winter was where you were from, the Indiana born brothers claiming that they’d love to see Frankie or Santi shovel their way out of a Midwest blizzard. 

“Why?” Frankie grimaced. “That just sounds like it hurts.” 

You’d laughed at that, nodding. “It does. I love the snow and I don’t really mind shoveling but…” You sighed. “I won’t miss the whole body aches after doing it.” 

“Facts,” Gloria agreed, nodding sagely. “Shoveling snow is not fun or easy.”

“You lived in a co-op building in Queens, Glo,” Benny responded, tightening the arm he had around her and giving her a skeptical side eye. “You didn’t have to shovel anything.” 

“I did not,” she confirmed. “But I watched the snow removal guys and they definitely did not look like they were enjoying themselves.” 

Everyone laughed at that, and then the conversation branched in a different direction. But Frankie didn’t follow it, turning to you and circling back to your recent move. “So aside from the weather, are you liking it down here?”

Smiling, you nodded. “I am. I’m still getting my feet under me. Learning where things are and which take out spots are good and all that.” 

Frankie hummed, crossing his arms over his chest. “Try Tino’s on Gateway Boulevard if you like burritos,” he suggested. “And if you like sushi you should try Ginkaku on-” 

“-North Evans?” You asked the location at the same time that he said it, your eyes widening. What are the odds? “Yeah, I’ve been meaning to try there.” You chuckled under your breath. “I was actually going to stop there tonight on my way home from work, but then Gloria told me I couldn’t spend my birthday eating sushi alone, so…”

You trailed off as someone near the bar called over to Frankie, telling him that they had to get going. He twisted in his seat to respond, saying that he’d be over in a second, and you found yourself staring at the way the movement made the fabric of his shirt stretch over his broad back. Damn. Out of the corner of your eye you noticed Gloria and Yovanna giving each other looks that you were fairly certain had to do with the way you were looking at Frankie, but you didn’t care because when he turned around again, his deep brown eyes locked with yours and nearly knocked you sideways. 

“Sorry, I just have to go say goodbye to a buddy of mine from work, and-” 

“No, don’t apologize! Of course.” You cocked your head towards the bar. “Go ahead, Frankie, I’ll be here when you get back.” 

He took a breath, then swallowed and nodded, eyes still on you as he stood from his seat. “Okay. I’ll be right back.” With that, he turned and headed over to the bar, and you were met with a view of his back again. 

Tearing your eyes away in an attempt to be more subtle about your attraction to a man you had met less than two hours ago, you cleared your throat and finished your drink. 

Your attempt was for naught, though, because even though Gloria was engaged in an intense conversation with Benny, Will and Santi, Yovanna was looking at you with a smirk. “I told you,” she said, one eyebrow raised as she lifted her drink to her lips. “I saw the way he looked at you before. He’s definitely interested.” 

I hope she’s right. Heat flooded your cheeks as the thought crossed your mind, and you knew you likely looked flustered, but you shook your head and let out a scoff. “I- He… Yovanna, I’m sure it’s just-” You shrugged. “A birthday hookup or-” 

Her head moved side to side then, her dark curls swinging from her ponytail. “No. That’s not Francisco.” She glanced over at Santi, the man throwing his head back in laughter and clapping Will on the shoulder, a warm smile that softened her sharp eyes on her face when she turned back to you. “The two of them are very much alike. They don’t waste their time on things that they don’t think will be around tomorrow.”

As though on cue, Santiago leaned over to press a kiss to Yovanna’s cheek. “You good?” He murmured the words against her skin before pulling away. She turned to nod, scrunching her nose. “We’ll get going soon, yeah?” She nodded again, the man dropping another kiss to the opposite cheek. “Okay.” 

He turned back to the others then, but you noticed that his hand stayed on her thigh as she returned her focus to you, saying your name. “I know that you just met me tonight, too, but you can trust me on this. Besides-” She tapped her phone and you looked down at the time on the screen. “Tonight is not really his birthday, and it’s almost not yours anymore, either. So it can’t just be a birthday hookup.” She widened her eyes and pressed her lips together, reaching for the pitcher in the middle of the table. “I’m going to have one more drink. Do you want one?” 

Before you could respond, you felt the weight of Frankie’s grip on the back of your chair as he lowered himself back into his own seat. But it was the trail of his fingertips across your shoulder as he withdrew his hand that made you suck in a breath and wonder if Yovanna was right. Realizing that you hadn’t answered her question, you blinked and nodded. “Um, sure. Just half a glass, though.” 

Because if she’s right? I definitely want to stay clear headed for whatever might happen. 

You thanked her as she poured for you, and then turned to Frankie, licking your lips as you smiled. “Did you catch your friend before they left?” 

“I did.” He said it with a nod, then tilted his head to the side. What? Narrowing his eyes, he opened his mouth to say something, then hesitated, taking a breath instead of speaking. What is he- But then he straightened his head again and you saw - and felt - his eyes flick to your lips and then back up. Oh, shit, he- “So you said that you were originally planning on checking out that sushi place tonight but Gloria said you couldn’t spend your birthday eating sushi alone, right?” 

You pulled your lower lip between your teeth and nodded. “Yeah.” And I’m glad I listened to her. 

He sighed then and you got the feeling that he was working himself up to say something. “Well,” he let out a sheepish laugh and reached up to grip the back of his neck, thick fingers nudging the edge of his hat. “That place is open ‘til 2 on the weekends. If you’re hungry, we could go grab a bite.” Wait, is he… Is he asking me out? He shrugged, dropping his hand and giving you the same lopsided grin he gave you when he introduced himself to you. “That way you won’t be going by yourself and-” 

You poked your tongue into the side of your cheek. “And technically by the time we get there it won’t even be my birthday anymore, so-” 

Frankie nodded, grin spreading. “So Gloria won’t have a leg to stand on.” 

A thousand tiny butterflies swarmed through your stomach at the thought of spending more time with Frankie one on one. Oh, I am so fucked. Taking a breath, you looked at him and what you saw only confirmed that thought. Frankie was the most attractive man you’d ever been this close to. And he’s asking me out. There was only one answer, as far as you were concerned. 

“That sounds great, Frankie.” You held up a finger. “On one condition.” He lifted an eyebrow in question, so you went on. “We take it back to my place to go, because I have a bunch of birthday cupcakes leftover from the office this morning, and-” 

He laughed, leaning in to rest his elbow on the table, getting close enough to say something that no one else would hear. “So you’re saying if I play my cards right, I might get to kiss frosting off your lips?” 

Oh, holy fucking shit, Frankie. 

You gasped then, Frankie pulling back to see the reaction on your face, the expression he was wearing one that you would remember for a long time. Finally, you cleared your throat and answered. “That is exactly what I’m saying, Francisco.” 

His eyes flashed when you used his full name, and with his next breath, though he was still looking at you, he addressed the rest of the table. “Hey guys, this has been fun, but I think it’s time to call it a night.” 

Within a few minutes the tab had been paid - Will, Benny and Santi insisting on splitting it between themselves - and goodbyes were said. But despite what Frankie had just said, you knew that your night was just getting started.

.

.

.

Thank you for reading! If you would like to be added to or removed from the taglist, please feel free to let me know by sending a message or filling out the form on my masterlist! :)

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@Vickie5446 @jessthebaker

[pricegouge]

how we feel about call of duty kaiju horror?

(I’m watching a Godzilla movie tonight so✨)

-🫀

it's the fact that you knew exactly what you were doing with each keystroke that's killing me here

vibrating at a speed imperceptible to the human eye: i feel pretty normal about it.

okay i'm at a low point mental-health-slash-hope-in-the-world wise rn which means ofc i've been thinking about my sweet baby puppy, godzilla, a lot recently. just something about a larger than life monster of our own making come to visit hell upon us that's rather apt, you know?

so originally i was just gonna ramble about that as a response to this - and how easily you could plug an elite squad of soldiers into that formula, make them the focus as they fight back against the kaiju. do it kinda like shin godzilla, maybe, where it's more a procedural than anything to highlight the incompetence of their orders - the us versus them, versus it; where the pieces are government/military officials, civilians, and of course the kaiju. and then bring it back around to what they have to resort to to actually get the job done. trusting the people most effected by the actions of their overhead, and all that. which i'm super into, but knew wouldn't necessarily have made for a good fic. and then beloved @stellewriites did what she does best and seduced me into writing a little snippet after suggesting the focus be more on the after-effects, like a cloverfield situation.

and she was fucking right, but unfortunately that's not what i ended up doing here because i saw kaiju horror and blanked out a bit writing an action scene lmao.

shelling, active fire, hand to hand combat. nothing prepares you for something like this.

hell, even falling out of a hele hadn't been this bad - hadn't instilled within him this fear, just before drop, all kitted out and ready for action. as if anything on their persons could actually defend them from the screeching behemoth below. offense had been unofficially deemed hopeless. not even the stealth bombers had done any good, their blast zones only succeeding in creating more debris, more shrapnel. more rubble to bury the first wave of casualties.

they'd been assured there wouldn't be any more bombing, not while there were boots on the ground trying to minimize the growing death toll, guiding the frantic packs of terrified civilians looking for refuge.

gaz was fairly sure they had told the first deployment the same thing.

it's a struggle not to assess his team, so he doesn't fight it. takes in their expressions as they hang out the open side of the blackhawk, faces underlit by flame and heat. they look grim, worse than he's ever seen them. but cap's voice is still his standard surly growl over the comms when he tells nik to bring them closer to the… thing.

ghost is the only one brave enough to question him. "price?"

"just want a better look," the captain grumbles, as if the scale of it could even allow for some sort of misunderstanding.

"it's a big ass lizard, cap," gaz supplies, unable to hold his tongue as the creature looms closer, nik's steady hand bringing the hele up and over its head, outside of the range of its relatively short arms. "what more do you need to see?"

price eyes him, chill of his gaze turned gunmetal in the thin light. a warning. "don't know enough about it to be fightin' it."

"are we fightin' it then, cap?" soap, borderline hopeful. like he thinks he can save the world with a well-placed sticky bomb, even after everything he's seen.

"you saw what it did in pari -!"

price cuts him off. "might have to. should know more about it."

like it's got an achilles' heel they'll be able to spot while dropping, their flare lights casting a grim red glow over the mountainous mass of plates and scales. they ring it as best they can - a valiant effort to keep their paracords untangled. from each other, from the mess of wires clinging to the skeleton frames still standing. from it. gaz lucks out, manages to draw its head. his flare light casts eerie shadows on the smoke behind it, jagged cuts of spiny bone that reach like fingers skyward, as if to pluck the circling hele from the air like no more than a noisome fly hanging over head. there's a gradual slope across a heavy brow, its face wide-set and surprisingly flat, as if evolution knew it wouldn't be snuffling around in the dirt for food no matter what hellish recesses of the earth it had crawled out of. he sees the teeth first, blanched and deadly in a mouth that gapes slightly, soft pink tissue glinting with drool in the wan, flickering light. the shape of it seems to shift in the smoke, disorienting in its incomprehensibility. gaz tracks the nose - up, in, across -

the eye rolls, a ring of sclera giving it an unexpected humanity. it's beady, the iris the same dark, muddy sort of gray that blends with the rest of its plating. defensive evolutionary traits. against what, gaz did not want to know. it flickers red and orange in the light. alive, wary. a thick nictitating membrane draws back, reveals a depth of color which can't quite hide the pupil - nor the way it dilates, trained on him.

it ducks his head as he falls, assessing just as much as gaz is. he reaches for his gun, automatic, and the ridge of brow above its eyes twitches, lowers. there's a series of pops, loud enough to hear even above the thunder of air in his ears, and then a light flickers to life in its gullet, electric blue and feeble in its infancy.

debrief hadn't mentioned bioluminescence. he decides he does not want to be the first one to find out what that's about.

tipping himself forward, he propels himself faster. his angle widens, brings him around the creature's side a bit, out of its field of view. he follows along its broad flank, dipping past huge, clawed hands which curl as if in disgust as he passes. he pulls his chute somewhere around its hip, tries to plot his land despite his general lack of visibility. he's just settled on a gap in the buildings up ahead when the air stirs, a quick updraft that rocks him where he hangs, sending smoke swirling as something slices through it, maybe twenty meters above the ground. he keeps his eyes peeled for another jumper, cautious about mixed lines even though he should still be well away from soap's position.

but it's not another jumper. he sees it first in the reflection of a busted window, shatter-proof glass left hanging concave in its frame. light catches in it, a sporadic wisp refracting through the crumple points, pulsing with movement. electric blue.

he casts about for its source, finds it off to his right. it slips through the air like a knife, smooth and deadly enough to have him running through a list possible drone types he may have run afoul of. he comes up short, though he wouldn't be surprised to learn they'd resorted to test tech. last thing he needs, though he doesn't start to seriously worry until another one appears, just slightly larger, moving in sync with the first. they arch out and around to his left just as another flickers to light directly before them. again, slightly larger than the last - though maybe a little bit closer to it as well.

the next one is heralded by a quiet humming, low enough he thinks he's imagining things until his feed starts crackling with static. he pulls his cords so he can face it more fully, and the chain of lights whip away from him, circle back behind the creature with enough force to shift the air again, unexpected draft pulling him up, up.

the beast faces him, turned fully with a deadly kind of silence kyle hadn't expected. its mouth hangs agape, faint blue light leaking from between its teeth, painting the surrounding smoke blue until it looks like xenon breath, just as fatal. the aura seems to build around it, and it takes gaz much too long to realize its being backlit, the strange lights gathering behind it until the smoke all around glows blue and white and it bows, sinks to his level with an open maw. the light in its throat crystallizes into a cold white while building in intensity, lock step with the intimidation display climbing over its shoulders, the massive plates there flickering to life, veined with phosphorescence.

he'd be nowhere in life if he hadn't learned to listen - when needed, at least.

suspended as he is, his options are limited. he yanks at cords that do nothing, the air gone so still in the creature's deadly silence that it won't even let him fall. like a vacuum, just waiting for the collapse.

"fuck. shit," he hisses, panic building.

the thing shakes its head, an audible rumble building alongside the deafening hum of static. gaz pulls his emergency release and feels his stomach fall before he does, tumbling away after it with flailing limbs, unable to even right himself into a controlled dive before he's catching his full weight on his shoulder, the composite hull of a hele groaning under his mass before the world tilts sideways once more, flops him onto his stomach where his cheek grinds into dirt and metal runners.

"flare!" a thick accent calls from over head, and kyle has just enough wits about him to recognize that the thick trail of red crawling along the floor of the hele is coming from him. he draws a knee up, hands swatting uselessly at himself in search of the strap that keeps the flare tied to his ankle, smoke filtering through his mask until he's -

it's hard to tell what happens first, the blinding light or the g-force which crashes into the hele from above - pushes it down even as he stays in place, colliding with the ceiling hard enough to knock the remaining wind out of him. alarms erupt all over the dash, the noise of them blotted out by a stillness in his ears, as if they'd been submerged - an immense pressure against his eardrum which stifles even his own pulse.

until it didn't, sound rushing back in a cacophony of sirens and shrieking metal, the creature's roar only drown out by the dull sound of impact and the sudden build of force that follows, glass shattering as buildings shook and crumbled. nik curses, something in russian. flare smoke builds in the cab but it doesn't even matter, not when the debris outside the windshield is so thick nik can't even see the approaching church until he's almost gone through the belfry. he banks right, hard, and gaz has a panicked moment of free fall as the open door he'd already fallen through twice today rolls to meet him and he slips through it once more, fingers barely even managing to catch on the frame before he's falling again, a two story drop into the blessedly bare church courtyard with a winded huff, vision tunneling as he stares up uncomprehendingly at the streak of light that's pierced the sky, the burning after-image of a gale force he simply has no framework for.

when he wakes up, it's to a world on fire.

if anyone is interested in that kinda post apocalyptic world, lmk. i don't wanna do any sort of series here but kaiju are my lifelong hyperfixation so i'm always happy to ramble about this sort of setting :)

[elementalwriter67]

I’m listening to Epic the Musical again (shocking I know) and maladaptive daydreaming as one does. So now it is my personal headcannon that the Apollo Cabin uses places around the camp to re-enact the musical when it is not actively in use. It’s only while they’re not in use because Chiron gave them all a lecture and dish duty and pegasus pen clean out for a month because they disrupted training one day while re-enacting the Circe Saga resulting in a few (read: multiple) injuries so now it’s either use non-active areas or don’t do it at all. And the Apollo Cabin would sooner die than not re-enact any musical much less Epic the Musical, so they do as they’re told.

They have a handful of places that are on rotation. 1st is the Mess Hall/area and they love to use this one to re-enact the ithaca saga because the pillars, torches, and tables make recreating “Hold them Down” and “Odysseus” real nice. And yes they do incorporate actual weapons. Don’t tell Chiron.

2nd-The wall is used on the occasion for the Troy Saga but it gets tiring climbing to the top so they switch it out every now and again for the amphitheater. It’s a lot easier to climb.

3rd- The Canoe Lake gets used a lot for the ocean saga and the underworld saga. Yes they do canoe across it every now and again for the authenticity. No they do not care about the concerned looks they get from other campers. Yes their spear throwing skills have improved because of the “aim for the sky” bit. They will occasionally use the lake for the Thunder Saga as well but they like to use a different place a lot more.

4th- The Amphitheater gets used a lot more for the Wisdom saga and the Circe Saga (though they do like to swap in the north woods every now and again for the Circe Saga because the Nymphs like to participate in that one every now and again.) They use the amphitheater mainly just because it feels right and that’s the best explanation you’re gonna get from them. Sometimes you just gotta go with the vibes man.

5th and final place is Cabin 1 and yes they do preform inside the cabin and yes it is used because Thalia is basically never home and well Jason’s dead so it’s free real-estate and yes they use it for the Thunder Saga and the Thunder Saga only. They’re pretty sure using it for the Thunder Saga is the only reason their cabin is still standing to be honest, Using this location did take a while for the whole cabin to warm up to because many of them were like “Zeus barely tolerates our dad he’s gonna fuckin kill us if we use his Cabin for this and he catches wind of it.” Eventually they all chilled out and started using it for it when enough of them hadn’t died for using it. Unbeknownst to them the only reason Zeus doesn’t do anything is because the damn musical does a good job representing him and damn it all if it isn’t catchy. So he lets it slide. For now.

@clea-nightingale

[onehundredelevven]

FINALLY REMEMBERED AN I IDEA FOR A FIC I HAD HELLOOO

okay so a fanfic inspired by the song Terrified by Childish Gambino with a gender neutral or male reader (plsplsplspls need more male reader) specifically these lyrics:

Do you misbehave?

Haunt you to your grave

I′m going to eat you alive

Please don't find me rude

But I don't eat fast food

So don′t run to me, baby

I NEED SUGURU SOOO BAD PUHLEASE or any jjk man you think would fit the fic y'know 😋 interpret the lyrics however you want !

Here u goon !! I chose Geto cuz why nottt. And idk if I actually got the interpretation of the song, I think I wrote this too vaguely(and boring)😭😭😭

☆☆☆

Misbehave.

The moon was full and heavy in the sky, casting a pale glow over the large temple grounds. The chill of the night bit at your skin as you stood just outside Suguru’s private quarters. The air felt thick, almost suffocating, as though the very walls of this place knew you didn’t belong here.

You shouldn’t have come.

But Suguru had called you—no, summoned you—with a simple message delivered through one of his devout followers: “Come to me. Tonight.” And like the fool you were, you had obeyed, unable to ignore the magnetic pull he seemed to have over you.

Now, standing before the sliding doors, you hesitated. The distant hum of insects filled the air, but the temple felt too quiet, like the calm before a storm.

Before you could knock or announce your presence, the door slid open with a soft shhk. Suguru stood on the other side, dressed in dark robes that hung loosely around his shoulders. His hair, long and dark, framed his sharp features in a way that made your breath hitch. But it wasn’t just his appearance—it was the way his gaze bore into you, heavy and knowing, as though he’d been expecting you to hesitate.

“You’re late,” he said, his tone light but tinged with amusement.

“I—” you started, but the words caught in your throat as he stepped aside, gesturing for you to enter.

Once inside, the door slid shut behind you with a finality that made your stomach twist. The room was dimly lit by a single candle on the far side.

“You’re nervous,” Suguru noted, his voice low and smooth as he approached you. “Good. You should be.”

Your pulse quickened, and you took a step back, but his hand shot out, catching your wrist. His touch was firm but not painful, just enough to stop you in your tracks.

“Do you know why I called you here?” he asked, tilting his head slightly.

You swallowed hard, shaking your head.

His lips curled into a smirk, and he leaned in closer, his breath ghosting against your ear. “Because I wanted to see if you’d come running to me like a good little pet. And here you are.”

You froze, his words sending a jolt of something—fear, excitement, maybe both—through your body. His grip on your wrist loosened, but he didn’t let go entirely. Instead, he guided your hand upward, pressing your palm against his chest.

“I’m too possessive to play nice,” he murmured, his voice dripping with something dangerous. “Too selfish to share. And too obsessed to let you go.”

You stared at him, your heart hammering in your chest as his eyes darkened, glinting with a predatory light.

“I don’t like things that come easy,” Suguru continued, his free hand trailing up your arm, leaving goosebumps in its wake. “I like a little fight. A little chase.”

Your breath hitched as his hand moved to your chin, tilting your head up so you were forced to meet his gaze. “But now that I’ve caught you, what should I do with you?"

His words hung in the air, heavy and suffocating. You tried to pull away, but his grip tightened just enough to remind you that you weren’t going anywhere unless he allowed it.

“Don’t run,” he purred, his lips brushing the corner of your mouth in a ghost of a kiss. “I don’t like fast food. I like to savor every bite.”

The candlelight flickered, and for a moment, you swore you saw something darker lurking in his eyes.

“You’re mine,” he said, his voice low and dangerous, each word sinking into your skin like a brand. “I’ll haunt you to your grave if I have to, but you’ll never be free of me. Do you understand that?”

You nodded, your voice lost to the weight of his presence.

Suguru smiled, but there was no warmth in it—only possession, only hunger.

“Good,” he said, his thumb brushing over your lower lip. “Now, be good for me and don’t misbehave. Unless…” His grin widened, a glint of wicked amusement in his eyes. “...you want to give me a reason to punish you.”

[8-evil-annoying-catboys]

some additional tips and additions to tips that were listed:

wear a face mask in public all the time. the pandemic isn’t over and all, so everyone should do this, but i can tell you, as a bigender person who took T and now i grow facial hair and have a strong jawline and deep voice and i get assumed to have been AMAB (specifically, people assume i was AMAB and i’m a trans woman now, bc i present very feminine), wearing a mask helps you pass in feminine clothes more than you can imagine, especially if you’re on E and have some curves or you wear looser clothes that hide your figure. you’d be surprised how much hiding your face below the eyes will do for you in terms of passing as whatever gender you want or need to, whenever you want or need.

if you feel like someone is following you or you’re just walking alone at night or in a sketchy/sparsely-populated location, yes, call someone or pretend to be on a call, but go one step further and say where you are. best to try to make it seem like you’re not doing it because you’re nervous (for example, pretend you’re on your way to meet up with someone or attend a planned event, and you could say something like, “oh, yeah, i’m on my way! i should be there soon! i’m on 7th and pine right now”), but say it loudly enough that the person you suspect of following you (or anyone who may be nearby, if you’re just nervous in general and not specifically suspicious of anyone) can hear you. someone who wishes harm on you doesn’t want witnesses and they don’t want the scene of the crime to be known. also, for safety, facetime/video call is better than an audio-only call bc then the person you’re on the phone with can be an eyewitness if anything were to happen, which will further deter anyone with malicious intentions. if you’re actually on the phone, try to get the person you’re talking with to do a video call. there are also some videos on, like, tiktok that are made specifically for the purpose of being a fake facetime call if you’re in an uber or walking alone. i recommend checking those out when you’re safely at home and saving them to your favorites so you can access them quickly if you need to. otherwise, in a pinch, pretending to make an audio-only call is better than nothing.

if you have the option, it’s best if you take someone with you when you meet up with someone from the internet for the first time. maybe don’t introduce them to the person you’re meeting, have them split from you when you get close enough but stay nearby so you can call for them for help if needed and they can keep an eye on you.

when you get in your car in public, lock the car immediately, then put your stuff down, put your seatbelt on, and drive away. some women sit in the car with the door(s) unlocked and fix their makeup or chill on their phone for a bit or whatever. don’t do that. it leaves you vulnerable. even with the door locked, if someone was following/stalking you on your way to the car, they could sneak up to the car and plan out some BS. better to drive off and pull over somewhere else if you need to do that.

take some self-defense classes. you may never need the skills, but it’s better to have the skill to defend yourself and never need it, than to need it and not have it. also, get pepper spray or a personal alarm or another self defense item. if you get a personal alarm, get another safety device along with it, since you can’t guarantee there’ll be anyone in earshot if something happens to you, so you need to be able to hold your own as necessary. it’ll still be good to use a personal alarm in an isolated area if you can defend yourself, since the loud noise of the alarm can throw an attacker off their game, and if there ARE any potential witnesses nearby, it’ll probably draw them closer, even if only to find out wtf that noise is.

quick note that i remember from taking karate before i wrap this post up—punch from the hip. don’t draw your arm back to punch. while that does build up your momentum and power, it also gives your opponent time to prepare for your punch. hold your fist at your hip, upside down, and twist it into the correct position as you send it forward for a punch. this adds a surprising amount of power, without tipping off your opponent or wasting time drawing it back, and it takes less time and effort to do from an idle position for most people, since most people’s arms dangle at their sides when at rest. also, keep your other arm up near your face. there’s a correct technique for blocking blows, but you can do it without knowing the technique, and it’s in your best interest to keep your face protected since your nose and eyes, two incredibly vulnerable points, are there. speaking of which, if you can manage it, punch your attacker in the nose or poke their eyes. that will often distract them long enough for you to flee, and its always ideal to get out of a fight as quickly as possible. if you’re fleeing, try to turn the first corner you can and keep turning corners until you find a densely populated area where you can get lost in the crowd or a shop or something where you can hide and wait until the coast is clear.

Hi, love your work

I'm a trans girl, and I have something I'd like your help with.

I don't have any of the common sense that I would get from the life experience of being raised as a girl

I'm worried that I'll end up in a dangerous situation because I was oblivious to the risks.

thank you! thanks for stopping by, that's actually a really great thing to ask about! you definitely want to know what you're possibly getting into when it comes to other people treating you. you want to know what to expect and that's good! women have it hard and people can be very invasive

i was raised/socialized as a girl/woman before i transitioned so i can give a bit of insight, since i've been there too. these are just a few tips, it's not a comprehensive list, nor is it in any particular order. just some things to keep in mind!

Safety & General Advice Tips for Trans Women:

First and foremost, try to not let too much of this stress get to you at once. At the end of the day, womanhood can be an extremely varied experience, so your mileage will vary with a lot of these. Try not to get too wrapped up in feeling paranoid of strangers if possible, while there are strangers who can potentially want to hurt you, there are also those who are minding their own business or even support you. It's definitely okay to have your guard up, but it may affect your mental health greatly if you are starting to feel endangered by most people around you.

It's good to be informed, alert and aware, but if it starts getting to a point where the way you feel about strangers is making your quality of life worse, it may be a good idea to take the time to focus on yourself and those who love you to remind you that womanhood isn't always miserable, even though it can feel like it at times. There will still be good moments, whether you're by yourself or with friends, that you can cherish to help alleviate some of the pain that cisheteronormative patriarchy can cause.

You may notice after you come out to others that they start talking down to you, condescending to you, doubting your emotions and experiences, downplaying your struggles, or even being rude and mean about things they weren't that way about before. People have a lot of internalized misogyny and tend to compulsively begin treating a woman or someone they perceive to be a woman like they're incapable of thinking for themselves. This is really common, so if this starts happening to you, try not to let it get to you. You're not too dumb to think for yourself.

People may start to doubt your capability at your job, if you are employed. You may notice a huge shift in respect and how your customers and clients treat you, especially if you work in a male dominated field. People may ask to talk to your cis man/cis man passing coworkers instead of you and it's okay to get angry about this. You may get paid less than your cishet man/cishet man passing coworkers as well and it's okay to be angry about this, too.

Come out slowly so you can adjust and gauge how the people in your life will treat you. When coming out at first, stick to very close friends and family members you have a good relationship with. You can take this as slow or as quickly as you want. But when you're first coming out and unsure of yourself, you don't have to overwhelm yourself by telling the entire world right out of the gates if you don't want to. You can take it at your own pace.

It's up to you whether or not you want to pass as a woman, either in your personal or public life. If you don't want to pass or just don't want to try, that's okay. If passing is vital to your mental health and how you want to be seen, that's also okay. You're allowed to decide how you present and appear. Keeping your safety in mind is also super important, so if you feel the stress of trying to pass as a woman would be too much or even dangerous for you to do so, it's okay to not try to pass. You're also allowed to "look trans," too.

Makeup can and does change how peoples' faces look drastically, so you may find that makeup can help you pass for safety or personal reasons. Even something as simple as eyeliner and mascara can change the way one's face looks. Highlighter & contour used on the cheeks, nose and brow can very much transform one's appearance, and if you have very visible stubble, you can utilize foundation and other products to help mask it when in public or around other people you need to pass for safety or personal reasons.

Most strangers in public generally think that long hair = woman. There are men and other people regardless of gender who wear their hair long, but for passing, safety, or personal reasons, long hair can drastically change how strangers see you.

Layers, flowy and loose fitting clothing help mask certain traits of the body, so if you feel insecure about how strangers perceive certain parts of your body, you may be able to obscure it from strangers' view by wearing a few layers or loose fitting clothes.

You may want to avoid taking long walks in dark places at night alone if possible. It is very much true that it can be unsafe to be out late at night- this can be regardless of your gender- but as a feminine person or woman, there is a genuine risk of being out late at night without someone else around, or being inside of a car. This is a little stereotypical to say, but it is a genuine danger.

If you're out in public and ever feel like someone is stalking or following you and you're alone, pull out your cell phone if you have one and pretend to take a phone call. Talk into your phone like you're speaking to another person, and if necessary, actually call someone else. Generally speaking, someone who wants to cause harm will not want there to be witnesses, especially not someone who can hear what's happening directly and can come over to the scene or call for emergency assistance. Put your best friends, family members and other emergency contacts on speed dial or favorite contacts if your phone has that kind of feature to make it even quicker and easier.

When meeting someone from a dating app, social media or other place online for the first time, do so in a public setting like a restaurant or other busy area where there are a lot of other people nearby to prevent potentially dangerous behaviors. Try to avoid meeting up with someone for the first time at your home when and where possible. Try to avoid giving out your exact location or address before you have interacted with someone in person.

Being in groups in public can drastically increase your safety levels, especially if those people are willing to stand up for you. It's also hard for people to get a close read on you if you are with a lot of other people. The more there are of you, the better.

There's nothing wrong with wanting to carry self defense tools just in case. That won't make you a violent person, looking out for your safety is crucial. It's okay to prepare for this kind of thing.

You may find that people suddenly start being needlessly sexual toward you, or sexualize your womanhood without you telling them you enjoy that kind of thing first. People may shift their view on how they feel about you and become aggressively sexual. You are not obligated to accept that if it makes you uncomfortable.

You may find that people start to doubt your physical strength and capability for no real reason.

Trans chasers do exist, though they're not every person who's attracted to trans women. Chasers will usually focus very hard on the things that make you "non passing" to them, to the point where it makes you feel very uncomfortable because you no longer feel as though you are being viewed as a person, but rather, a sexual object that fascinates them. They may also use hurtful slurs and humiliating language toward you without your consent.

I know people say this a lot but it's true, public bathrooms can be dangerous, so it's best to stay cautious when entering one. Wear a face mask if possible inside to help people mind their own business. Avoid conversation if possible. Looking nervous may draw some attention, so keeping a cool head and focusing on the task at hand can help in some situations.

You do not have to feel ashamed of your voice, but if you're noticing people getting caught up on your voice, you can do some vocal training, or choose to speak in shorter, more concise sentences and utilize body language around those people, or both. You don't have to completely silence yourself as you deserve to speak up for yourself, but using more body language may help you have an easier time with strangers who are or may become caught up on how your voice sounds. There are all kinds if women with deep voices, but some people do focus on this.

Women's support groups and spaces can potentially be very welcoming, or very hostile depending on the people involved. There are women's spaces who accept trans women, but there are also those who do not. Try not to feel too bad on yourself if you find these spaces do not accept you, because it says nothing about you and everything about that space.

It's good to have friends, lovers and family who are also women, but cis women in particular are not always inherently safe to be around and can harm you. If you feel like the cis women around you are hurting you, you're allowed to say that they are. Cis women can be great allies and friends, but they are not inherently safer to be around than any other gender. You do not have to tell yourself they are not hurting you because women can't hurt each other. You do not have to convince yourself the pain isn't real because women are incapable of harming others. If you feel as though the cis women in your life are treating you badly, it's okay to talk about it and validate yourself in that you can genuinely be harmed by cis women and you do not have to downplay any of that pain whatsoever.

If you notice a lot of these things happening to you, It's more than okay to be angry at the shitty behaviors people may start showing you as a trans woman. It's okay to feel anger towards those actions and how people look down on women. It's okay to express your pain. It's okay to express worry and concern. It's okay to be scared. It's okay to not know what to do at first or in certain situations. It's okay to take a while to adjust to how people are treating you if it changes. As long as one doesn't direct that anger at people who haven't hurt them, there is nothing wrong with any of this.

now you may have a totally different experience depending on the people around you. there's no way to know exactly how people will treat you after coming out, so take things step by step, day by day. for your own mental health, try not to let yourself get too caught up in these things. it's great that you want to look out for potential danger! it's a very real issue, but your mental health is also super important and if you find that all you can think about is being in danger, you definitely deserve to find ways to alleviate that stress. take care of yourself when and where possible to make the experience more enjoyable.

tailor your experience in your home and personal life as much as you can to your liking. being out in public can be dangerous and scary, but you do deserve to be out somewhere, even if it's when it's just you alone in your room, talking to your friends. women, especially trans women, can be in a lot of potential danger at all times, but don't let yourself get consumed by fear all the time, as you deserve quality of life and you deserve to feel proud and euphoric about being a trans girl. you deserve validation and kindness. you deserve to feel good about yourself as a trans girl at some point, you don't have to go without that because cishet patriarchal society can be dangerous and hard.

i hope you find this even remotely helpful, i may not have been as informative as i'd like to be, but take care of yourself, okay? it's very good to want to learn the risks of what can potentially happen in society and being a woman in public. others are more than welcome to pitch in as well, please do so if you have tips & suggestions for this anon! take care for now, be good to yourself and remember that there's nothing wrong with being a woman, especially a trans woman. the people who don't like you don't define you: you do. you don't have to listen to them. they don't know who you really are.

[daisydogboy]

i hate how the one time i’m not paying attention to wtf my face is doing i end up making the wrong expression and now everyone thinks i’m upset

[vic-does-battlecats]

Minor spoilers for the already revealed chapters of the next A Starless Clan book Wind

[turtleblogatlast]

I still think about how Leo’s ideal day out for the fam’s venture into the Hidden City was basically just an effort to get some rest and relaxation because boy does he never get that ever.

[solongsuzy]

My latest obsession, Cubfan135 😍 I tried making a version of him covered in fireworks but idk if I like it or not…

[humiliationsheets]

hell is being hyperfixated on the teenage girl that your entire fandom absolutely despises

[boag]

I’m so glad we moved where we did omg…. We lived in this neighborhood before when we first moved to Philly but like on the other side which is technically a ~better~ area but we got in touch with these landlords through one of my mom’s best friends Shawn who lives across the street and knows the owners and was like “yo they are cool as hell and are planning on moving out you guys should rent from them” . And we’ve been going over Shawn’s house and hanging out with him and his friends for over a year now bc they’re all just great, genuine, fun ass people so we’ve gotten to know a lot of them. And now we live on their block and it’s the best vibes ever and we always know we’re surrounded by a whole group of SUPER cool/trustworthy people and we’re so often just outside at night hanging out on each other’s front stoops having some drinks and smoking some and having the best conversations and I just love it sm . I’m so done with the messy toxic drugged up bullshit of my past so it’s really awesome to have people around who are just kind and honest and have their shit together but can still have fun like it’s just an amazing group of people to be a part of