#WHAT?! SAL THATS NOT A THING

[llimerrence]

me for a while there: omg i cant make any ocs that are connected to canon characters intimately thats embarassing and so childish of me

me, now: Fuck everyone, im making my ocs DEEPLY connected to ocs. and i know that even if no one else supports me, L will.

[thetangibleghost]

I gotta confess it is so much more fun talking to Sal as if he is a separate person like he wants and not a member of the system. He's super creative like. Its just fun.

[salstray]

is it weird to want to do reader-insert stories for my own oc's.

i love reader inserts and i just... i feel like it would be fun to do them for my boys. even though i'm. not good at them. nor confident in my ability to write them.

[last-answer]

okay so theres this Stranger bitch nikola orsinov LOVE her. shes this skin stealing mannequin thing. and she was gonna use this ancient gorilla taxidermy for the stranger ritual but she decided instead to use jon's (main character archivist man) skin instead and she kidnaps him n stuff. except his skin was in such horrid condition that it had to be forcefully moisturized with lotion for like a month and if not for that he probably would Not have been alive long enough to escape. her original plan was ancient gorilla taxidermy. Jonathan Sims canonically has skin in more unusable and unacceptable condition than ancient gorilla taxidermy

the what. gorilla taxidermy ??? kidnapping ?? FORCEFUL MOISTURIZING ??????? i did not know that was a thing but it is now /silly

[1spooky-dad]

Love now living in a place that's basically sea level cause i tell folks i backpacked a 13k foot peak at age 15 and they go "holy shit that's crazy" but at the time i was already living at 5k feet so it wasn't even a full 10k elevation change

[orchidyoonkook]

The Devil Wears Valentino | MYG

Title: The Devil Wears Valentino  

Pairing: Devil!Min Yoongi x (F)!Reader

Rating//Genre: (M) | One Shot, Spooky AU, Supernatural Creatures AU, Not Quite Friends to Lovers, Age Gap, Technically Slice of Life, Angst, Smut and Fluff

Summary: Having known him for years—from a small mistake on your behalf, and a favour on his—you’re one of the only people he seems to be able to put up with for company. Certainly the only one he’s half-way decent with. But what’s more surprising to you is that despite his name, reputation, and the fact he’s always joked he’d have killed anyone else by this point, is that he’s never once tried to cause you harm. 

Actually, he’s almost…protective of you. In his own weird way.

And obnoxiously flirty.

Warnings: language, violence, tae is a menance, drinking and alcohol, Min Yoongi as the Devil -> Lucifer Morningstar? we dont know him, mentions of murder, mentions of torture, mentions of rape -> Sal's an ass and he deserved what he got, somewhat graphic gore/horror (yoon tries her best but she's not very good at spooky), slight POV switches, one (1) mention of reader having hair, fluffy in parts,

Explicit warnings under the cut.

Word Count: 10,488

Release Date: October 31, 2023, 12:00PM

A/N 1: Ahhhh! Welcome to my very first halloween special!!! I wanted to do something for my favourite holiday this year, and I've had this title written down without a plot for maybe just over a year? So I'm really excited to finally use it!!

A/N 1.5: Thank you to my absolute darling @katykatmeow for beta'ing this for me so late in the night. I adore you so much

A/N 2: The whiskey glass and whiskey are hand drawn vectors because I'm a glutton for punishment. Why do I keep doing this to myself.

Explicit Warnings: ahaha uhhh, unprotected sex (dont be stupid) kissing, breast play, fingering, oral (f rec), groping, pet names (sickening amount), dirty talk, praise, slight degredation, hair pulling (m rec), spitting, handjob, body worship, cowgirl, from the back, missionary, a lil bit of crying, spanking, size kink, voice kink, hand kink (look, he's a lot okay, don't blame reader), sl*t/wh*re mentions, multiple orgasms, creampie, I think thats it? Yoon went a little bananas with this one.....

Slow jazz floats through the air of the club, wading around the modestly-sized venue. You’d say it was almost cozy, but with the expensive feel of the place, cozy just didn’t seem like the right word. 

Intimate. That would be a better choice. 

From behind the bar where you stand, to the velvet couches in the back covered by decently dressed lesser demons, piano plays alongside gentle drums. Dark navy cushions soak in their conversation of effective torture methods, discussed like stock market trends, they dissect the best way to decapitate someone so you can instill the most pain and suffering. 

The answer is always with a dull knife and from the back, blindly. Never knowing when the next cut will be is half the agony. 

You try not to pay attention to that though, because the only thing you need to know is that they drink Vodka Tonics and lesser demon number four’s glass is looking to be on the emptier side.

He’ll be back for another soon.

While you wait for his arrival, the rhythmic notes continue on, gliding along shiny, black floor tiles. They pass the burgundy leather booths that face the stage, full of vampires trying to relive long lost youth in the old melodies played. They turn to stone just a little bit more with every passing minute they’re forced to live, keeping no company besides the pleasant burn down their throats and ever present melancholy. 

Banshees listen in from the mezzanine, only ever soft spoken when they’re here. Covered by velvet draped ceilings that dampen sounds to the outside world, the women of three distinct ages sit at tall tables. The young in heels and short dresses, proudly showing off their youth, while the elders choose more elegant wares, content as they can be in their skin, considering their blood soaked pasts. 

Banshees tend to discuss privately amongst themselves, ordering walk up service so as to never mingle with the men on the floor. You can’t blame them, especially knowing how they all got here in the first place, but they’re polite when they enter, greeting you kindly despite what you are to them. The trays you bring up for them never waver from their drink of choice, The Irish Sour.

And then there are the Djinn, who come in mostly just to pass the time. Sitting by themselves at the bar, or in no more than groups of two at a far table, they never interact with anyone other than the bartender or themselves. Djinn are increasingly solitary creatures of the night, with the fear of their kind lessening in mortals, you’re starting to see less and less of them as the days pass, and you’re almost sad to see them go. 

Djinn are your favourites. They come in, order, keep to themselves, and then leave. It’s a nice change from the usual light conversation you’re forced to keep with patrons. Plus their orders are always easiest, as they only drink virgin. It’s a bit of a blow to the bar aspect of the establishment, but they come for the atmosphere, grateful to have a place they can exist with like minded folk—even if they don’t interact. There’s a comfort in familiarity, you guess.

Occasionally some other creatures of the night mix into the masses; fae, chimera, leprechauns, goblins, et cetera. All dressed in their nicest clothes to accommodate your work's dress code, all here for peace from their day jobs, to drown their sorrows, or somewhere in between. 

Some come for an hour, others come for the night, but it’s mostly just your regulars who tend to remain, as do their drink orders. It’s a relatively easy job, and you don’t mind the company. 

Most of the time.

You’ve just finished serving the lesser demon from earlier when your coworker bugs you for the hundredth time tonight. 

“I don’t get why you're so hellbent on this, Y/N. If you’re closing, he’s coming. Because he always comes when you're closing. It’s simple math.”

“No he doesn't,” you dismiss Taehyung, a cocky but rather beautiful incubi, annoyedly. Taehyung is the type that knows he’s pretty and uses it to his every advantage, including being able to say whatever he wants and get away with it. And it would piss you off except it works on you too.

Fucking incubi demons…

You were one of only two mortal bartenders, the other being Lia, a cute blond who only works here for the tips. The boss likes to keep a couple humans on staff in case any wanderers stupid enough to come inside a den of nocturnal, evil creatures didn’t catch the vibe and immediately fuck off. 

You’d be surprised at how shitty some people's self preservation instincts are.

You asked your boss once—a very large, very well built, very well connected vampire—why he bothered having a layer of protection for them. His only response was: “Business is business.”

Plus he knows he can’t have a trail of bodies that lead directly to his club's front steps, so he keeps a couple of mortals around just in case. This way, with you two here, there was always someone who knew all the drinks the humans could have, and someone to keep all the greedy eyes around the venue in check, as you have banning and kicking out privileges. 

Because where you saw Kin, your regulars saw food, a hunt, or a job. They saw something to be taken advantage of or killed. They saw poor, weak, pathetic little mortals that should’ve been eradicated centuries ago had their ancestors been smarter. 

They are the superior beings in their eyes, your race is just a bug to be squashed under their proverbial boot. 

It makes you worry what they think of you. Is the only thing that stops them from devouring you whole the fact that you make their drinks just the way they like it, that you have a use in serving them? Or do they respect you enough now that you understand how to act around them and know what they’re like? What they are. 

You worry, but you’ll never know the truth because you aren’t stupid enough to ask and show weakness. They can smell that shit from a mile away, and all it does is paint a 30 foot wide target on your back. 

“Yes he does. I bet you tonight's tips he’ll be here in the next two hours,” Taehyung presses. 

And ooohh, a night’s worth of tips, bragging rights, and winning a bet against Tae all sound way too good damn to pass up. 

“You’re delusional,” you say, holding out a hand. Tae grabs and shakes, as you agree to his terms. “And you’re on, don’t come crying when you lose.” 

There’s no way he’ll show up. It’s Friday night, the night of sin, he’s going to be up to his eyeballs with work…stuff.

“Easiest money I’ve ever made,” Taehyung grins, and with the confidence in which he does, you begin to second guess your own.

It’s not that you did or didn’t want him to show up, it’s just that your relationship with him is…complicated at best. You never really knew how to navigate a conversation with him outside of surface level banter and jokes, but it’s always been like that with you two.

Having known him for years—from a small mistake on your behalf, and a favour on his—you’re one of the only people he seems to be able to put up with for company. Certainly the only one he’s half-way decent with. But what’s more surprising to you is that despite his name, reputation, and the fact he’s always joked he’d have killed anyone else by this point, is that he’s never once tried to cause you harm. 

Actually, he’s almost…protective of you. In his own weird way.

And obnoxiously flirty. 

But you could never. Not with who and what you are, and who and what he is. 

Regardless of how you fight the heat down in your cheeks every time you see him, and how your heart flutters against your will in multiple places in your body at even the thought of being near him.

Regardless of the fact that you shut him down every time he suggests anything more than an over the bar conversation, and the way your panties seem to always dampen in his presenc–fuck. 

It’s happening again. Stop thinking about it, stop, stop st–wait. You turn, seeing the violet ichor in Tae’s eyes and you know the bitch is using his power on you. You flip the asshole off and he chuckles.

He’s been trying to get you to change your mind ever since the first time he saw you deny yourself. 

“You know I can tell when you’re hot and bothered right? Incubus, remember? It’s literally part of who I am.” 

To which you think again, fucking incubi…

Your most infamous regular is, to quote your favourite tv show, ‘the bane of your existence and the object of all your desires,’ and you will never, ever entertain his annoying, disgustingly hot ass more than you already do. Not after everything you went through the first—and last—time with a creature of the night. 

You learned your lesson.

So instead, you try to think of him more like an old friend. The kind that’s actually really old already, but looks amazing for his age. The kind that makes shivers run up your spine when he talks to you in the deepest, most gravel turning voice you’ve ever heard, that you also ignore out of pure self preservation. He’s the kind that you shove out of your thoughts at night when your alone and in desperate need of relie—Fucking Taehyung! 

You whip your head around to search for the violet eyed incubus, only to see him across the bar helping some stocky vampire. And you’re about a hair's breadth away from ripping him a new one in front of said vampire when the idle hum of chatter in the bar ceases and the band’s calming music falters into missed notes and a cymbal crash that's too hard; awkward, painful silence remaining.

From behind you, you can hear the front door close, followed by light footsteps that grow louder and louder. Only once the seat directly behind you creaks with the sound of being occupied, does the chatter and music resume.

Which can only mean one fucking thing. 

You just lost all your tips for the night. 

Tae’s shit eating grin as he looks over your shoulder confirms it. 

Fuck. 

“Excuse me,” the bottom of the ocean floor speaks and you make a conscious effort not to react.

“Ardbeg Single Malt, neat?” You throw over your shoulder, not bothering to look just yet. 

You know precisely where he sits. And he knows you know. 

“Sounds perfect,” he responds, and you focus on ‘looking for the bottle.’ 

You know exactly where it is.

No one else will touch it. 

Taehyung busies himself with bringing an order of Bloody Mary’s down to a booth on the floor, knowing he’ll be burned alive if he so much as looks at a whiskey glass. 

No one serves him but you. 

But more importantly, nobody disrespects you in front of him. A lesson your ex–see: dead–coworker, Sal, learned the hard way. His burn mark is still seared onto the floor behind you. 

You’d almost felt bad that day, but he was a lust demon who touched you without your permission, hit on you every five minutes, and when you said no, treated you like shit.

You’d been close to dousing him with vodka and lighting him up yourself, but the man tapping his fingers on the bar behind you beat you to it 15 seconds after sitting down one night last year. 

After shoving Sal off you for the fourth time that night, he was pissed. Whispering obscenities to himself loud enough so you would hear,

“Fucking stupid mortal bitch, maybe next time I’ll just drag you into an alley do whatever the fuck I want. Nobody here’s going to stop me. And maybe then you’ll learn to shut up with this dick in your cunt and my fingers down your throat, huh? Leave you to rot with the garbage where you belong after you’re all used up.”

He didn’t take another breath. 

A single burst of blistering flame had Sal reduced to ashes in seconds. You’d felt the heat from it, but your skin remained burn free, safe from its dangerous blaze. The lust demon from then on only existed as a smudge on the ground to be walked over.  

“Thanks,” You’d said.

“It’s where he belongs,”  he responded. 

Grateful for his kindness, you entertained him more than usual that night. Engaged in an actual conversation, about your birthday of all things. You had no idea why he wanted to know, but you considered the information his reward for helping you, and he seemed pleased with it.

But he was more than pleased. 

After years, you’d revealed something to him. Something personal.

He took it as a sign that he might be able to get you to change your mind one day, if he did everything just right. Having played the long game before, this was no different. The only thing different this time, was you. 

Maybe it was the way you walked with such confidence, or the way you never cowered in fear around him. Not the day you met nor any day after. Or maybe you were sent by his father just to mess with his head. He didn’t care. All he knew was what he wanted, and that he was more than willing to wait as long as was needed to get it. 

A nursery rhyme from your childhood plays in your head every time you see him. It never wavers, just like the eyes you can feel on the back of your neck, watching your experienced hands make his drink. 

Quietly, you recite it to yourself while you grab the bottle;

‘One for sorrow,

Two for joy,

Three for a girl,

Four for a boy,

Five for silver,

Six for gold,

Seven for a secret never to be told.’

You pour, steady hand making it last as long as you possibly can to gain a few more seconds to compose yourself. 

‘Eight for a wish,

Nine for a kiss,

Ten a surprise you should be careful not to miss,

Eleven for health,

Twelve for wealth,’

You put the bottle down and cork it before returning it to its place on the shelf. Taking a deep breath, you turn to finally face him, and change the wording of the last line to fit your situation better.

“One Ardbeg Single Malt neat, for the Devil himself.” 

He snickers, “I always liked that nursery rhyme. It’s cute. Like you, Angel.” 

You roll your eyes. To anyone else that would sound like a compliment. But coming from the Devil it’s more of an insult. One you know is meant in a playful way after all these years, crass in his humour, just like you. And you know he can take a little heat back.

“Wow, that’s a classic,” you grab a glass to polish, keeping your hands busy so they don’t do something stupid while you’re distracted. “Got one of those for you too, ‘Did it hurt when you fell from heaven?’” 

He chokes on a laugh before straightening on the barstool and putting on a face. “I don’t think that joke’s appropriate.” 

“Oh come on Yoongi, you come at me with ‘It’s cute, like you, Angel’ and I can’t poke back?” You ask, knowing full well his uncomfortable look is all an act. “I thought you didn’t have any feelings besides rage, lust and currently; insufferable flirting.”

You know the entire club listens in to your conversation. 

No one calls the Devil by his first name. 

Nobody speaks to the Devil unless spoken to. 

And no one makes jokes at the Devil’s expense and lives. 

No one except you. 

What a funny little exception you are.

Yoongi drops the act, a sly smirk that sends bubbles to your brain, replacing it. “So you admit my flirting isn’t always bad. Must be doing something right then.”

You force yourself not to slam a palm into your forehead. Of course that’s what he got out of your sentence.

You aren’t going to make his ego any bigger than it already is. 

“It isn’t working,”—fuck, yes it is—“if that’s what you’re asking. Can’t say I’m surprised though, I hear you’ve been out of the game for a couple millenia,” he quirks a brow at that. 

Ooo, that means you’re nearing thin ice, haven't been there in a while…Let’s see if you can slide around a bit more without falling in. 

“I mean, I’m sure you’ll get there eventually. If you stay consistent at your current rate of progress you could hit me up in,” you suck air in through your teeth and look at the ceiling, before checking a watch you don’t wear, pretending to think, “a thousand years?” You tease, a lilt in your tone. Because if Yoongi was going to make your shift this fucking difficult just by breathing near you, then you sure as Hell can do the same for his night. 

He chuckles like the coals of a fire and you cross your legs behind the bar. Motherfucker… 

“Someones got a mouth on them tonight,” he says, looking directly into your eyes as he takes his first sip, savouring the taste before swallowing. His tongue dips to his bottom lip for any remnants and you gulp, vision dropping for a millisecond—oh for the love of—and you finally notice what he’s wearing.

Much to your dismay and dwindling willpower, he looks fucking good. With only a white scarf to accent, the all black Valentino suit fits in perfectly with the bar’s dress code, as well as the long slicked back hair he’s only recently started to grow out. Just seeing it like this makes you want to run your hands through and mess it up. 

You’ve always had a thing for men with long hair, ever since you were young.

Jack Sparrow, Madmartigan, even The Winter Soldier. And come to think of it, none of them were exactly the good guys in their respective universes either…

Nope! No. You can’t. You can’t.

You can’t for so many reasons, so many good and bad and everything in between reasons. You’re nothing more than a flimsy human while he’s the Great Immortal Evil. The person people whisper the name of for fear of incurring his wrath. 

The King of Hell. 

He’s the person that walks into a room and everyone balks under his gaze, terrified of what he may do. He’s killed millions with no mercy. Doesn’t so much as think twice to horrifically burn someone where they stand to ash in hellfire for breathing the wrong way near him. He lavishes in the screams of sinners, punished in their own blood and bones, beaten into a shell of who they were in the nine circles of Hell. Left gaping, broken and sobbing in agony for their suffering to end. 

Yoongi is walking nightmares and visceral terror. He is merciless violence and brutality abandon. 

Yoongi is living, breathing, unyielding death wrapped up in deceivingly beautiful packaging. 

He is the epitome of someone you should not like, should not go near, and definitely should not want in the way the thrumming in your bones is telling you, you want him.

You have to stay away from him. 

But that doesn’t mean you can’t flirt back a little.

As salaciously as you can muster, you whisper low, “But it’s nothing you can’t handle,” and you swear you see a hint of surprise in Yoongi’s eyes, followed by something so much deeper that you have to look away under the guise of checking for any newcomers. 

It’s a dangerous game you’re playing. One you need to move the pieces of very, very carefully. 

There’s a handful of people waiting to be served, but none disturb Yoongi’s service. So you’re forced and relieved to cut the interaction short. For both the waiting patrons, and your sanity. 

“Enjoy the whiskey, Yoongi.”

Yoongi doesn’t bother you for the rest of the night, instead he watches you help the other patrons and make drinks. No one dares sit within three seats of him on either side, so the booths and tables fill more than the bar does, forcing you to do more tray work than you like. And you think you can feel those eyes on the back of your neck travel elsewhere.

Soon after he takes his last sip, Yoongi leaves far too much cash on the table to cover a single drink, and you know Tae won’t include it in tonight's bet. He rather enjoys being alive. 

The first time he did this you tried to give it back, insisting it was too much. But one threat to Tae’s life had you accepting the outrageous amount he left you every time. Despite how much he gets on your nerves, you rather enjoy Taehyung's company on your shifts. And you didn’t want to risk having a new coworker like Sal again. 

Thank you, Yoongi. You silently think to yourself every time he does. His tips are one of the only reasons you’re able to take care of yourself so well. 

You live in an apartment you should not be able to afford on a bartender's wage. Eat well, buy all the brand name products for the skin care routine you could only dream of having as a teenager, and you’re able to get yourself a little treat every once in a while. 

All thanks to the one man the world claimed was the purest entity of evil there was. 

And maybe he is. 

But not to you. 

The rest of your night, and closing go smoothly. The journey home passes by in a flash and soon you’re flopping into your bed, asleep before you hit the pillow. 

You dream of Yoongi and Hellfire and things only your subconscious will let you. The thoughts that you force away every time you see him. 

The burn of his hands on your skin and his lips on your neck. The warmth that spreads over your entire body at the mere mention of your name from his lips. His tongue in places you wouldn’t dare allow him to even think about in the waking world. 

And you wake from an orgasm he wasn't in the waking world to give you. 

It’s the last Saturday in October, which means it’s also your birthday.

You found it rather funny that the one person the Devil could stand to conversate with was born on his night. Maybe that’s coincidence or maybe that’s fate, either way you didn’t care, because you had it booked off work and you were going to a bar and dancing with your friends, dressed up in the sluttiest costumes you could find. 

Your recent visit with your birthday's namesake inspired your costume this year. Wearing the shortest, blood red leather dress you could find, the slits up the sides ran almost to your hips, and a corseted waist that made you feel sexy and fierce. You’d paired it with some velvet horns, a tail, pitchfork, crimson lace stockings and your most recent edition; red bottomed strappy stilettos. 

They’d been your birthday present to yourself, courtesy of Yoongi’s most recent tip. And needless to say, you felt hot as shit. No one could tear you down tonight.

All your friends met at your house before ridesharing down to a club. It’s loud, hazy, and filled with other Devil’s Night party goers as you arrive, smoke lingering in the air and you can feel the wave of dancing coming from further inside. 

Someone buys you your first round within a minute of being let in, lemon drop filling your taste buds as you knock back the shot. Another is ordered immediately after the first, it runs smoother and tastes like chocolate as you make your way to the dance floor. 

Aside from you, your friends are dressed up as a wild mix of characters. Rey is dressed as Daphne from Scooby Doo, Yaejin is Nezuko from Demon Slayer, Bryce is a gender bent Legolas from Lord of the Rings, Declan is Donatello from the Ninja Turtles, Cam is a ghost, and Trin is a character from a book you’ve never read. Something about dragons and magic and vermin—or was it venin? Whatever. But they were in all black and had used silver hair spray on the tips of their hair.

You let the alcohol make its way through your veins as you dance, loosening up. The DJ mixes songs together in a way that never has the crowd thinning out and you laugh as you move with your friends, swaying and rocking and grinding. 

You needed this.

A night out just to let go, have fun, forget everything and hopefully get lucky by the end of it. It’s been a while since you’ve taken anyone to bed, and birthday sex sounds amazing the more the lemon drop, and what you finally learned was a tootsie roll shot, settle into your system. 

You aren’t drunk by any means, but you are buzzed and having a blast. An orgasm sounds like the only thing that could possibly make this night any better. So you make your way around the dance floor, keeping one eye open for any potentials, but mostly just dancing with Rey and Cam. The others either grabbing another drink back at the bar or resting their legs in a booth. 

“Babe,” Rey says, hands around your neck with Cam behind you, hands on your hips. You all sway to the beat of the admittedly sensual song playing. 

“Yeah?” You ask, opening your eyes to meet hers and she leans in closer. 

You can hear the smile on her lips, “Major tall, dark and handsome at 9 o'clock has been eyeing you for at least a half hour. I say you ditch me and Cam and go enthrall the man with your company for a little while. We’ll be fine on our own.” 

Heating at her words you’re excited to see who’s gone and done half your job for you tonight when your eyes stop dead on target. 

In a private booth in the VIP section, blending in far too well with the mortals around him, he wears a button down black satin top and dress pants. Thick silver links adorn his neck, complimenting the hoops in his lobes as well as the mouth watering rings on his fingers and you’re quite sure the bottoms of his black leather shoes match the red of your own. 

Yoongi. 

God he looks good. Unfairly so. And he carries that knowledge with him in his movement. His confidence never wavering like a mortal’s would.

Aside from two twisting black horns you’ve never seen before protruding from his deliciously tousled hair—hair you still want to pull on until he’s making sounds no ones ever heard come out of his mouth before, now moreso than ever—Yoongi is a darker version of yourself. 

Except for him, it isn’t a costume, it’s real, real, real. 

And he looks like sin incarnate. 

Fitting. 

Fuck, you’re so screwed. What were all those reasons it could never work again? The ones that explain why you shouldn’t take the Devil home and let him fuck you into next Sunday?

Suddenly, you can’t remember any of them. Not when Yoongi’s eyes never leave your red-clad form as he sips on what you know to be subpar whiskey. Your core melts into lava at the way he looks up and down, taking all of you in like you’re the one thing on this planet he needs to survive, and he’ll stop at nothing and spare absolutely no one until he gets you. 

Rey gives Cam a look and their hands drop, allowing you to almost float over to where Yoongi lounges, maneuvering between bodies undulating to music that’s being deafened by the heartbeat in your ears.

When you reach him, you leave a somewhat respectable distance between you two, a step down from the dias the booth sits on. 

Seeing him so much clearer now, you almost whine. How does he look even better up close? You want to sit on his lap, his face, have him bend you over the table then flip you over and feast like a man starved. 

Fuck! No, you can’t. And you also can’t blame Tae for those thoughts either, he isn’t here.

They were all you. 

Maybe his plan was working after all…

“What are you doing here?” You manage, grateful that you hadn’t had more to drink, but even more grateful for the ones you did. You needed a little liquid courage right now, even if it turned your thoughts into gutter sewage.

What he doesn’t know can’t hurt you…right? You just have to keep a lid on it. The one that’s loosening the more you look at him.

“It’s your birthday,” he says, producing a small black box wrapped with a bow. “I have a gift.”

He…he got you a present? He’s never done that before. But then again, before last year, he never knew when it was.

“You remem—I—you didn’t have to get me anything,” you stutter ungracefully, mouth trying to keep up with your racing thoughts. “I already got these shoes with the tip you left me last time,” you say, extending your leg to show off your newest purchase. The action reveals more leg than you meant it too and he catches the garter you have pulled around your thigh.

A fire ignites in his eyes at the sight, and you can feel their sparks everywhere he looks. Starting at your toes and moving all the way up back to your pretty irises. 

“I’m flattered by the way,” he says. “In your costume choice.”

Huh? You look down and heat rises to your cheeks in a way it never has before. Oh fuck, oh fuck. Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit!

Here you stand, before the actual Devil—horns out in all their glory—dressed as him on his namesake night. 

Of course this would happen to you, of course it would. This is what you get for fucking around. You found out. And you don’t know whether to be mortified, beg for forgiveness, or laugh yourself hoarse. 

Going with none of the above, you choose to play it off instead, the way you always do when he manages to fluster you. “Consider me inspired by how recently I last saw you,” you say, taking the single step up the dias and twirling for him. 

You show every angle of your costume you can, letting the booze in your system do its job of making you more confident than you currently are.

“What do you think?”  

Yoongi stands, taking the two strides needed to be face to face with you, his voice is quiet and even, so only you can hear.

“May I touch?”

You don’t hesitate. 

“Yes.” 

Yoongi reaches behind you and pulls the fake tail from the back of your dress, then the pitchfork from your grasp and throws them into the booth, not caring where they land.

“Mmm,” he hums, placing his hands on your hips and spinning you once more. Lightning strikes every single nerve ending where his fingertips meet your body. 

This time when he speaks, his voice is touched with the bit of demon that’s inside of him, dragging its claws along the floor of the 9th circle of Hell as he growls, “You’re perfect.” 

Your heart does backflips and cartwheels and nose dives all at once. You’ve never heard him sound like that before, and if your panties weren’t wet before, they definitely are now. 

Tugging gently, he guides you to the booth, sitting first before dragging you over his lap, knees meeting his hips. One of his hands rests on your thigh while the other reaches for something you can’t be bothered to figure out because oh my god, oh my god, you’re straddling him. Your straddling the Devil, dressed as the devil and probably already looking semi-fucked out while you do. This is probably a bad idea—no. This is definitely a bad idea. But you also have absolutely zero plans to stop literally anything that’s happening. 

The gift box makes a reappearance, and he hands it over to you. 

“Thank you,” you say automatically, trying and failing to ignore the fact that both of his hands now rest on your thighs. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck…..

Undoing the little black bow, you open it, revealing a delicately simple necklace. Its light weight chain holding a small pink stone pendant. 

Beautiful. 

“Pink Tourmaline,” Yoongi says. 

“My birthstone,” you reply.

“Your birthstone.”

You stare at the little crystal, cut and polished to perfection. Not a single flaw.

“Yoongi I—I don’t know what to say. It’s incredible…Thank you,” you take it out of the box, profoundly grateful you decided not to wear a necklace tonight. “Could you help me put it on?”

“Of course, Angel,” he agrees. But this time when he says your nickname, it’s different. Like an unholy vow made only to you. 

Makes you wonder what he promised.

Regretfully removing yourself from his lap, you turn around, only to be dragged back down by strong fingers. 

Your ass is now flush against his dick, and it’s taking everything in you not to tease. Whether you’d be teasing him or yourself, you don't know, nor do you care. All you know is that friction can be a good thing if you want it to be. And you're starting to want it to be.

Lifting your hair for him, Yoongi fastens the necklace around your column, and to your complete and utter doom, places a gentle kiss at your nape. The simple contact makes you quietly moan, and you feel a twitch under you. 

Ohhh, this is bad, this is so bad. But you can’t bring yourself to stop him. Not when his hands roam up and down your back, your sides, your hips. Exploring, feeling, learning. You dissolve into the touch, welcoming every whisper of pleasure they bring. 

What is he doing to you?

“Angel,” Yoongi purrs in your ear. 

“Mmm?”

“Would you like to dance?”

Fuck would you ever, but wait— 

“Are you asking me if I’d like to Dance with the Devil?” you muse. 

Yoongi chuckles lowly, understanding the meaning behind your ask.

“Is that something you’d be interested in?” 

“Yes.”

You feel more than hear the dark rumble coming from his chest before he gently taps on your thigh. And you get up quickly. 

“That’s a good girl,” he says, and fuck could you ever get used to him saying that to you.

Fingers laced in his, he lets you guide him to the dance floor.

Both of you ignore what the DJ plays, instead moving to the rhythm you feel like. Slow, sensual, a hand on his neck while you grind into him. Fast and heated, bodies touching any and every place you can get contact. You’re putting on quite the show for anyone brave enough to watch. And you know at least a handful of the eyes you feel on you are your friends’. 

They don’t know about Yoongi.

They don’t know about the nature of the clientele at your job either, like every other human. They don’t know you're dancing with the most dangerous and volatile man in the room. And it’s better that way, because if they did, your ass would’ve been hauled out of the club and in a rideshare the second anyone saw him. 

You’ve never been more thankful for the figurative wall between worlds. And the fact that you stand on both sides. 

You brush up against his hardening dick and fuck, that’s it. 

You’ve decided. 

To hell with your reasons. To hell with the constant flirting and overuse of will power. 

To hell with letting your anxieties and your moral compass and your conscience get in the way of the one thing you’ve been denying yourself for years. 

You spin in Yoongi’s hold, looking straight into the darkened eyes of the most forbidden man you could ever want for yourself, only to see pure desire staring right back. It’s all you need before you’re crashing your lips to his, taking anything and everything you can get before one of you comes to your senses and pulls back. 

But his grip on you tightens like a vice, pulling you closer, bodies flush amidst the dancing crowd. He’s magnetic in his want, lifting a hand to the back of your neck and tracing the seam of your lips with his tongue.

You let him in without hesitation and he nearly swallows you whole with how he invades your mouth, claiming it for himself. It makes you moan and he lets up, if only to let you breathe for a moment, and you take this reprieve to whisper in his ear, finally giving in to what you crave more than anything.

“Let’s go to yours.”

“We should go to yours, Angel, mine’s a bit harder to get to.”

Because his is on another plane of existence. Not exactly a taxi ride away. At least not one you can get at the curb of the club. 

“Riiight.” A small dose of water washes over the fire in your core, and it’s like he can sense it because immediately, he’s pulling you back in. Nothing but teeth and lips and tongue, animalistic in the passion you’re displaying for everyone to see, the flames increasing tenfold.

Fuck, you don’t want to wait. 

And apparently neither does Yoongi. 

“Do you trust me?” He asks.

“Yes, but what does tha–”

“Close your eyes for me, Love.”

Any and all arguments fade on your tongue at the new pet name. So much warmer than Angel, so much more affectionate. 

So you close your eyes for him, no questions asked. Because you trust him. You trust the Devil. 

You trust Yoongi. 

“That's a good girl.” 

One hand goes to the back of your neck, the other your lower back as he kisses you gently. So gently you think it means something more, but the sounds of the club are fading away, and he’s leaning you down like he’s going to dip you before your back meets something soft. 

Are you closer to a booth than you thought? Is he really going to take you here in front of all those people? 

But when you open your eyes and your bedroom at your apartment fills your vision, you stiffen immediately.

What?

“I—but we were just—and now we’re he—and you—,” you stutter, amazed and unable to get the thoughts out fast enough before another takes its place. You manage a, “How?” and he catches on. 

Not halting his actions, “Consider it a job perk,” he explains, nipping at your neck. You let out a groan as he continues his way down your column towards your chest and you relax into his touch.

“Teleportation, in simple terms, but it’s a bit more complicated than that.”

Despite his mouth on your skin, you somehow find the clearness of mind to ask, “Did anyone see?” Thinking about your friends and the potential hundreds of onlookers.

Yoongi’s hands rest at top of the zipper that goes the entire length of your dress, allowing for both easy putting on and quick removal. Fingers tug gently on the slider, eyes meeting yours for consent. You nod, and he answers your question as he drags it down your body torturously slow, savouring every moment he’s worked so hard to get. 

He’s going to earn this privilege you’ve given him, if it's the last thing he does.

“No. And your friends won’t worry either.”

You don’t care how he knows that, not when he’s pulling off hot leather and devouring your curves with coal burning pupils. The cool air of your room causes goosebumps to rise everywhere, and your arms fly to your head, covering your eyes as you’re reminded you’d forgone a bra tonight. 

There was no room for one without it squishing your tits too much and ruining the look. So with your dress gone, Yoongi has a front row seat to your nearly nude form, a blood red lace thong the only thing keeping you semi-decent. 

Years of pining and denial have led up to this moment and Yoongi almost doesn’t know where to start now that he finally has you exactly where he wants you. That feeling doesn’t last long though.

Wasting no more time, he takes a breast into his palm, squeezing and massaging while he lowers himself to the other, lapping the nipple of the one neglected. His tongue swirls over the pert bud, sucking it into his mouth fully and you arch into his touch, reveling in the warmth he spreads across your chest. Hands reaching for the sheets above your head for something to ground you.

“Shit,” you can already feel your pulse in your ears, thundering behind your sternum, and booming lower. He’s barely touched you and you’re already so gone.

He switches his hand and mouth, soothing the other breast with the sinful muscle he’s teased you with after all these years drinking whiskey. And by god if you don’t immediately think what it could do in other places. He’s had thousands of years to practice and the gush you feel in your panties lets you know exactly how you feel about the idea. 

Using his free hand, Yoongi traces down your back, rounding your ass and squeezing hard enough to make you hiss in pleasure before settling on the back of your thigh. 

You can barely stand having his hands so close to your molten heat without having any contact, and it leaves you begging, “Please…Please…”

You feel the curve of his lip quirk as teeth gently scrape the sensitive bud, gasping when he pulls off. 

“Please what, Love?”

“More,” you pant. “Please. Anything. Everything. Please just touch me.”

“Mmm,” he’s back at your neck, inhaling your scent, one hand still on your thigh while the other holds him up by your ear. “Pretty Girl has manners after all, huh?” 

“Oh fuck you.” you bristle, but it seems to be the reaction he’s looking for. A deeper, sluttier part of you awakening at the words you want to prove both wrong and right.

“There she is.”

Diving back into your neck, Yoongi trails wet, open mouthed kisses down, down, down. And even though you’ve never been so wet, so in the moment, and so unbelievably turned on before, the human part of you wins for a second, as you try to close your legs. 

They’re pulled back open in an instant, his eyes never wavering from yours as he says, “Don’t you dare get shy on me now,” a kiss to your inner thigh. And then the other as he kneels before you. 

Yoongi places each foot on either of his shoulders and you’re surprised he’s kept on your garter, stockings and red bottoms, their heels digging into his flesh. You wonder if that hurts at all, but by the way his eyes flutter and almost roll into the back of his head at the pressure they place on his frame, you think he actually likes their sting.

“You’re the most exquisite creature I have ever seen. Absolutely no part of you could ever be undesirable to me.” 

His earnest tone makes you believe him, convinces you, and you’re once again pliant in his hold, opening up for him.

“Look at me,” he says, and you do. You stare directly at the Devil between your thighs. The King knelt before your lowly mortal form. “You are the most powerful person in this room, understand?”

You nod, but that’s not good enough for him. 

“I need to hear it.”

“I understand.”

“Understand what?” He pushes.

“I’m the most powerful person in this room,” and it feels bold to say in front of him. But watching the way Yoongi’s expression fills with pride makes it also feel good. He wants you to feel like you’re the one in charge. 

“Remember that,” he says, before ripping your underwear off and throwing them on the floor, feasting his now wholly black eyes on the sight of your dripping pussy.

The more he loses himself in you, the more of his true form reveals itself.

“Fuuuckk,” he whispers more to himself than anything. “So wet…”

Your core is tormented and throbbing at the back and forth between the cold night air and Yoongi’s hot breath and you whine, “I just bought those!”

He spares you one completely unsympathetic look. 

“Don’t care. I’ll buy you more,” a deliciously ringed finger slides along your drenched folds and you’re gasping. “I’ll buy you the entire fucking store if it means I get to see you like this.”

Your voice is airy as you give in, any and all outrage gone. “Oka—ohhh!”

His mouth is on your cunt before you can breathe in the oxygen you so desperately need. He’s not holding back and your movements are not your own as you squirm. An arm rounds your pelvis holds you down, keeping you there as he devours you whole and shows you no mercy.

“Fuck, fuck, oh my god Yoongi,” you cry out, having never felt anything like this before. His tongue circles your clit as he sucks, then glides down, penetrating your opening with thrusts that make you lightheaded. 

Your hands fly to his locks, pulling and pushing him down further until you're pretty sure you’re drowning him in you. Your fingertips graze his horns and it’s just a reminder that this man is definitely not human. Definitely not someone you should be letting suck your soul out through your pussy. And that makes this whole situation that much hotter. 

If he minds where you touch, he doesn’t say anything about it, only groaning as he repeats his motions to get you near your peak, again and again and again until you're quaking against your will and your body is vibrating with every throb from your core.

Every single nerve ending you have is awake and being put to good use, he’s making sure of it. The dam that holds your release is starting to crumble and you don’t know how much longer you can last like this before you’re screaming bloody murder under his grip. 

“Yoon…Yoongi—fuck,” you stutter, staggered breaths from your trembling chest loose as you try to verbalize, “C-close. S-so close.”

He hums, and teases a finger around your entrance, circling a few times before pressing in and up to your g-spot. The simple action undoes you and you're coming with a force you can’t even begin to describe. The waves crash down, over and over and you're moaning and cursing his name at the same time, knowing it’s going to be the only one you’ll think of in this situation from now until forever.

He guides you through the last shockwaves as you come down, and when you’re too sensitive for him to continue, you drag him up to your lips, tasting his efforts on your tongue. 

“Need you now,” you rush out between kisses.

“Not yet, Love,” he says, pulling back just enough to reach a hand between the two of you.

He slips two fingers inside and swallows the resulting moan from your lips as he goes so deep enough you can feel his rings proding your opening.

“Gotta stretch you out for me first.” 

Your hands are back in his hair, nails scratching the nape of his neck as he begins to scissor you open expertly. He growls into your neck at the sensation and that confirms your suspicions of him liking a little pain with his pleasure. So you scratch further down his neck, onto his shoulders and back and you dig a heel into his thigh.

“Fuck, Angel,” fingers stuttering for a second. “Don’t do that unless you want me to come right now.”

“And if I do?” 

“Not yet.”

“Why not?”

“Because the first time I come, it’ll be with you around my cock, soaking the sheets with your own.”

Head rolling back, his words going straight to your clit. “Fuck, okay.”

“Now give me another one, Pretty Girl,” he says, picking up speed with his digits. “I know you can, pretty little slut takes my fingers so well.”

Fuck, fuck, fuck…

You can feel it coming this time, building and building. He uses his thumb to rub over your sensitive nub and it has you unraveling under him, screaming out and almost sobbing at the convulsions your body makes. He takes your mouth with his again, consuming your pleasure in every form he can get. 

And once you come down, you’ve had it. If you don’t have him inside you within the next 2 minutes you’re going to lose it. 

Ripping at his shirt, you're fumbling with the buttons. “Fuck, take this off, and those,” you say, abandoning his shirt for his belt. 

Yoongi chuckles, low and sinful, “Bossy,” but gets up, and begins removing the outfit that got you into this situation in the first place. You take off the remnants of your costume as he spares you no peace of mind, the way you did him, taking off his pants and boxers in one go, freeing his mouth watering bulge from its earthy confines. 

“Oh fuck me,” you say at his size. He’s big, girthy and you’ve never wanted someone inside you so badly before. 

Yoongi smirks as he crawls over you, but you stop him with a hand. “Wait,” you throw a leg over his hip, and flip the two of you so you’re on top. “Let me do this.”

“Whatever you want, Angel.”

Picking up his cock, it sits heavy in your hand as you give him a couple strokes. He hisses at the contact and it only spurs you on, gathering as much saliva as you can, you open your mouth to spit, rubbing it all over his shaft and head, mixing it with the precum dribbling out of the tip. 

“Fuck—”

Your 2 minutes are up. Lifting your ass, you guide yourself onto him. 

“Oh my fuck, oh fuck,” you say as you slide down slowly, the stretch still very much there as he bottoms out. “Big—ohh, shit—so big.”

Yoongi’s not faring much better, eyebrows pressed together, but eyes devouring the spot where your bodies meet. His breathing is so laboured you’d think he just ran a marathon.

“So tight, Love...Fuck, look at you.”

The delicious sting subsides and you start to move, slow but purposeful thrusts that have him kissing your cervix every time. Fuck he’s so deep, deeper than anyone else has ever been. And once you get a rhythm going there’s no stopping you. You become a force of nature as you bounce on his cock without abandon, taking this for yourself. You don’t know why, but you feel like you have a point to prove and by god you’re going to make it. 

Because if the Devil chose you, you’re going to make damn sure he doesn’t regret it. 

“Fuck, fuck you’re doing so good,” he rasps, throwing his head back into the pillows, eyes shut in pure bliss, murmuring. “Feels so good.” 

His praise pushes you farther, riding harder, grinding your clit against his pelvis, owning both your pleasures. 

You’re the most powerful person here. 

You are the one in control despite being on top of arguably the most powerful man on the planet. It makes you feel safe and strong and invincible. 

And you want to continue, you really do, but your legs are starting to give, so you let him know. 

“Ass up for me then,” he says, and you listen, climbing off of him and wincing at the feeling of him slipping out. He gets behind you, lining himself up again and this time it’s much easier as he sinks in, both of you groaning at the contact. 

Yoongi hands go to your hips, gripping and squeezing and molding the globes of your ass as you anchor your cheek to the bedsheets. 

“That’s it, Pretty Girl, all the way down for me.”

His first thrust has you seeing stars. You're nothing and everything as he continues, but you need more. You need to not be able to speak. To walk. You need to have every thought fucked out of your head. You need him so deep you’ll feel it for a week afterwards.

“Faster,” you beg. “Harder, please.”

“There are those manners I was looking for,” he says and picks up his pace. 

You’re incoherent, saying things you’ve never dared to utter out loud before, making admissions you swore to take to your grave and Yoongi is eating up every single last one of them. 

Because this is about you. This is about proving years of your denial’s fruitless. This is about him and how you make him lose every ounce of self control he has when he’s around you and how badly he’s wanted you since the day you met. This is about ruining every other man for you, making sure you know what true pleasure feels like, know how you deserve to be treated, and hearing his name on your lips when you come. When your cunt clenches so hard he has to fight tooth and nail to milk every ounce of bliss from it.

This is about him wanting to hear him make you feel good. Needing to hear him make you feel good.

This is about you. 

And he can feel you starting to clamp up again, can feel you getting close. So he wraps an arm around your waist, fingers going straight for your pussy.

You shriek, body consumed by the even strokes he delivers as well as the smooth circles around your most sensitive spot, and he revels in it. This is what he’s been dreaming of, what he’s desired over everything else. 

You, underneath him in so much pleasure you’re almost non-verbal. 

Perfect in every single way. 

“Taking me so well, dirty girl. Love the feeling of my cock splitting you open?” he hears a muffled cry and you nod your head. “Knew you would, knew you could take me.”

He delivers a smack to your ass and he feels you clench, so he soothes the battered area before handing out another, soothing that one out too. 

“You’re so good for me, pretty little whore so greedy, sucking me in. Why’d you make me think you didn’t want me all these years, hmm? Was I not good enough for you?”

You bury your face in your sheets. Well that certainly won’t do. So he slows his fingers as he reiterates. “Was I not good enough for you then, Angel? Am I good enough for you now?”

“Yes,” you mutter, barely loud enough to hear.

“What was that?” he slows again to a near burningly slow pace, soaking in the feel of you around his fingers and dick. It feels like a place he once called home.

“Yes!” you bellow. “So good…so good to me…more than enough.”

The praise fuels him, and he picks up the speed of everything, cock pounding you into the mattress, fingers rubbing an achingly mind-blowing pattern on your clit. It pushes you over the edge for the third time tonight, your fluttering cunt around his dick almost has him losing it. Almost has him coming undone with you, but he manages to hold it back. 

Not yet. 

You're silent in your screams this time, overwhelmed with the feelings, fingers nearly ripping your sheets in half at how hard it hit you. How hard you contract around him.

Oh he’s never going to get sick of this feeling. 

Ever.  

And instead of guiding you down this time, he removes himself quickly, flips you over on your back and inserts himself once more. 

He needs that feeling again. Needs you again. You claimed him for yourself whether you knew it or not all those years ago, he was simply following orders. He was yours the second your eyes met for the first time and he’s never looked back since. No one was ever good enough from that moment on, not a single creature on any plane of existence. 

There was only you. 

Yoongi’s never felt anything so pure and so sinful and so right as you pulsing around him does. He exists only for this feeling. Only for you. It took a couple thousand years, but at least now he knows. 

And so he doesn’t slow down, pushing you through your oversensitivity.

It’s time for him to finally claim you back.

“I can’t,” you beg, “it hurts.”

“Not for long, Pretty Girl” he says in his lowest registar. “You can take it, I know you can. Give me one more, I know you have it in you.”

Yoongi’s noticed his words have almost the same effect on you as his motions, so he uses them to their full potential. And as he can sense your fourth orgasm about to land, you surprise him by whispering directly into his ear and raking your nails down his back as hard as you can.

“Only for you, Yoongi.”

His thrusts stutter.

“Fuck!”

He’s coming. 

He’s coming hard. With you, with your name on his lips. It's violent and visceral and vicious and vibrant. It’s beautiful. You’re combined divine deliverance. 

It’s the first time he’s said your name.

And it’s something he’s going to keep locked away in his memory for millenia to come as he covers your inner walls in the most sickeningly sweet shade of white. 

You’re relentless, milking him over and over and over for all he’s worth, not letting up until your body is ready too, ruthless in your quest for ultimate euphoria and he takes it.

Whatever you want. Whatever you need. 

It’s yours. 

He’ll make it so.

At whatever cost to him, you'll get it. There isn't a doubt in his mind as you finally come down, body lighter, eyes glazed over, devastating smile on your lips.

He’s the first to move, going to the bathroom and grabbing a warm, wet cloth to clean you up. You’re blissfully spent, unable to get up even if you wanted to, limbs like jelly, still in a brain fogged haze. 

You got exactly what you wanted.

He cleans his release from your form, naked save for the pink stone he gave you around your neck. Then tosses the cloth in your hamper and lies back down, covering you both with sheets. You cuddle up to him, tossing a leg around his torso, and lying your head on his chest. Contented. 

And he’s silent until he can’t stand it any longer. He has to know.

“What changed?” 

“Hmm?”

“What about tonight made you change your mind?”

You take a deep breath through your nose. “I…stopped fighting it. The feeling like we would never work, the feeling that I would never be good enough, that we were too different,” he listens intently as your fingers trace patterns on his chest, explaining. “And I was sick of denying myself. It’s my birthday. Shouldn't I get whatever I want on my birthday?” 

That seductive smirk makes an appearance.

“Yes.”

“Plus you looked to damn fine in that outfit. A girl only has so much willpower, you know? It’s easier at work when there’s a bar and my job between us, but there was none of that tonight. Just the shots in my system and my unwavering desire to ride your face.”

Yoongi laughs, and you don’t think you’ve ever seen something as beautiful as his smile before. 

“Next time,” he says. A promise.

You fall back into a comfortable silence that has you thinking. 

“What about you?” you ask.

“What about me?”

“Why am I the only one you like? The only one you put up with.”

He ponders for a moment, thinking about how to phrase what he wants to say. 

“I think about the time we met often. There was something about you that was different that day, and I’ve never been able to pinpoint exactly what, but when I saw you I knew I would never think of you the same way I do everyone else. There was something special about your gaze in mine, your company, your soul.” 

“My soul?”

“Mhm.”

“You’ve never asked for mine before.”

“Never needed it.”

At that, you joke, “Is there something you’d sell your soul for?”

“You.” 

Before you can say all the nothing in your head at his answer, he takes a deep breath that has you rising and falling with it. Something about what he’s going to say next is going to have heavy importance to him. 

You just know it. 

“You… made me—make me…want to be better. Do better.”

You’re speechless. Not the kind you were moments before. No, you’re truly and genuinely speechless. 

You never expected anything like that. 

You knew your presence in his life carried a different weight than others, a different air. It’s why you could speak so casually, insult him, and exist near him without fearing for your life. It was something no one had seen from him in thousands of years. 

Kindness. Patience.

The man who’s job it is to run the universes torture capital, punishing those who deserve it without an ounce of mercy for eternity and killing those who looked at him the wrong way. The physical entity of the word evil, wanted to be better. 

Because of you.  

“I don't know what to say.”

“You don't need to say anything,” he kisses the top of your head, tender. “Having you with me is more than enough.”

You can do that. 

“Okay,” you say, craning your neck to kiss him. It’s long, languid, and full of emotions you don't want to acknowledge right now, there’s too many of them to sort through in your post four orgasms brain to be able to process properly. 

Tomorrow you can start. Right now you just want to bask in the afterglow of the most amazing birthday you've ever had.

“So this wasn’t a one time thing?” Yoongi clarifies.

“It definitely wasn't a one time thing,” not a chance in Hell. 

He was yours now. 

The Devil was yours.

King of the Underworld, god among men, catastrophe breathing evil was yours. And it brings the biggest smile to your face.  

“Oh thank fuck.”

“Not thank God?” you tease.

Yoongi groans. “Do not bring my father into this.”

A/N 3: As always, thanks for reading, loves. Xoxo, - Yoon <3

[olderthannetfic]

Re: discourse about using outliers / the worst examples of a group to justify generalizations-- this is also a problem with the femslash wank asks

I'm one of those filthy f/f folks who actually does want to see more femslash relative to mascslash, but I'm not anti-fujo or a terf or telling ppl to change their own tastes. I'm proship / SALS and kinkmato and I think fujoshi are great; I appreciate their massive contribution to fandom culture including AO3's existence itself

But some ppl seem like they just hate f/f fandoms generally and want a reason to bitch about us? and I've felt super demoralized by it whenever I read your blog lately

Like the complaints about f/f being too wholesome and fluffy and that this is somehow bad?? tumblr is C O V E R E D with cutesey fluffy bubbly m/m art using That Artstyle we all know and nobody complains about it. But when sapphic art is like this suddenly its cause we're boring sexless puritans who dont know what pussy should look like? The huge amount of kinky weird depraved f/f thats out there gets totally erased and the wholesome stuff gets scapegoated as a symbol of regressiveness.

Or the constant lecturing to "JuSt CrEaTe It YoUrSeLf" as if nobody who says they want more f/f would actually be making it??? How do you KNOW they're not making it? Are you stalking the tumblr of every ao3 f/f author to make sure they never expressed the opinion you hate , and vice versa??

Yeah a few awful ppl have been super obnoxious, terfy, or puritanical bullies with how they talk about this topic. But when you constantly bring those people up to demonize talking about it at all it feels like you're creating a taboo around it because you want those annoying lesbian feminists to shut the fuck up. Cause how dare we, right? How dare we express desire for something in a way that reminds you patriarchy exists.

You won't even let us express that we're bitter or sad about feeling like a minority even amongst other queer women. You won't let us express simple jealousy without interpreting that jealousy in the most terfy antiship bad faith way possible!

I won't defend those who actually harass ppl or moralize over ships. I won't defend anti-fujos. But when you constantly lump me in with those people just because I looked at AO3 stats and went "Hmmm, it would be cool if this was more balanced :/" or whatever it feels like you just don't want me to say anything at all

--

Is this about me personally? Yes, I agree that topics that are repetitive start to feel like an attack.

But with regards to AO3 stats, this is my pet peeve, as you probably know if you read here often, and I'm unlikely to stop being angry about it.

AO3 is extremely unusual in the history of fandom for being a very big, very multifandom site that is not m/m-specific but where m/m outnumbers other things. There have been large-ish slash archives before. There have been and still are other large, multifandom archives, from FFN and Wattpad, which are in AO3's weight class, to medium size ones like MediaMiner. The spaces that aren't m/m-specific generally have f/m vastly outnumbering m/m. They also make it harder to get stats than AO3 does.

I don't have an issue with people looking at overall fandom stats and complaining that f/f has the short end of the stick when it comes to fanfic broadly. I do object to people pulling only AO3 stats and going "The one anomalous clubhouse that looks like this is the problem" and pointing at m/m.

It's the same problem you point out, just in another direction. After being told "Okay, but the amount of m/m..." constantly for years, people are fed up and never want to hear it again. Even if it's phrased nicely. Even if the person saying it is also hurting.

[kaldurahms-lover]

Hello, can I request Sal fisher x gn!reader, maybe a one shot about Sal showing y/n his face for the first time

AGH THANK YOU FOR REQUESTING THIS I NEEDED AN EXCUSE TO WRITE IT WJSHSJHS

Pairing: Sal Fisher x Reader

Warnings: use of y/n, fluff, sal's face oops, i kinda fucked up the different tenses but i cannot be bothered to fix it, very minor swearing, not proofread.

Word Count: 773

A/N: takes place when Sal and the reader would be around 17 and have known each other for like two years

Sal knew he had to let y/n see his face at some point. They were the closest friend he had. (Larry doesn't count, Larry's family.) He knew in the back of his mind that it made no sense for the person he's closest to to be the last one in their friend group to see him without the prosthetic, hell, even Neil had seen him (i know in canon only his dad, larry, ash, and dr. enon have seen him. ssssshhh). He had no clue why he hadn't shown them besides his romantic feelings for them, they would never judge him. So when he heard them telling Todd how they felt like he didn't trust them...

"I just don't understand. It's his decision and I don't want him to show me if he isn't comfortable with it. But thats what hurts, is that he isn't comfortable with it. I love Sal, he's my best friend and I would do anything for him, I just can't help but feel like he doesn't trust me. And I know I sound terrible, being upset that someone I care about isn't ready to unpack their trauma with me, but I can't help it."

He knew something had to change.

Y/n was over within minutes, making the quick trip up from apartment 304. Sal ushered them into his room quickly, wanting to do this before his dad got home. They were obviously very confused, sitting down on his bed and asking if everything was okay.

"Do you think I'm uncomfortable around you?"

Y/n was taken aback by his blunt question. "Sal, what?"

"I heard you talking to Todd, y/n."

"Oh. Sal, I'm not upset with you, I didn't mean anything by it–"

He cut them off. "I know. I'm gonna ask again, do you think I'm uncomfortable around you?"

y/n gulped. "Sometimes I feel like maybe you don't. But who you take your prosthetic off around his completely your choice, I don't want you to do it just because you heard me say something to Todd, I want you to do it because you trust me and want me to see you."

"Thats the thing! I don't know why I don't want you to see me. You're my best friend, and I fucking love you, and you should've seen me years ago."

Y/n sighed. "It's okay. I promise it's okay."

Sal doesn't say anything, he just unclips his mask. Before Y/n can even realize what's happening, Sal's hand is the only thing holding his prosthetic against his face. He lowers it slowly, freely presenting his face, every scar, every bit of missing skin, the way it's now much more obvious that one of his eyes is also a prosthetic. His eyes are down, not wanting to see their reaction despite willingly removing his armor.

"Sal..."

"I know. It's not pretty."

y/n put their hands up and moved their head back as if offended. "Not at all what i was going to say. You're so pretty. In a very unconventional way... but theres nothing wrong with how you look. Can i..." Their hands reach out to cup his face, but they keep their distance until they have permission.

He nods and suddenly they're holding him so gently, as if they're afraid he might break under their touch. And as they softly caress his scarred skin, Sal melts. In fact, he gets so lost in the moment that it takes him a moment to realize they're talking to him.

"Sal? You still with me here?"

"Huh? Oh. Yeah. Yeah I'm just... processing. No one's ever really had anything nice to say about me taking this off. I mean they've never had a huge problem but they haven't... they haven't reacted like this."

"Can I kiss you?" The question is sudden, purely formed from y/n thinking out loud. It takes everything in them react at how shocked Sal looks.

"What?"

"i'm sorry, I shouldn't have said anything, I don't want to make you uncomfortable or mess up us being friends–"

"No no no, y/n. Yes. Please. For the love of all things good, please."

"Really?"

"Really."

That was all the confirmation y/n needed before their lips were connected. It was awkward, considering the scar tissue and the fact that it was very obviously Sal's first kiss, but it was sweet. When they pulled back, y/n rested their forehead against Sal's.

They smiled. "Hi."

"Hi."

"This what you expected when you asked me to come over?"

"Hoped? Maybe. Expected? Never."

"Learn to expect this every time I come over now."

[astral-schools]

oh my god i owe you my life. what the fuck. thats so interesting

ok somehow didnt realize the bubbles were, like, Real. actually there. i always draw the worlds in the bubbles when i draw the icons but i didnt know that was actually how they were structured, figured it was just to make the icons more distinct. which i realize now was completely not correct-- i havent actually played enough p101 to really get that far but watching a video now we can actually see the bubbles around the separate worlds when sailing thru the areas between world-specific skyways. and also we see the bubble around lemuria when we release it to the wider spiral so that ones just me being foolish lol

so the spiral Does have an atmosphere in a certain form, its not like the actual void of space to the extent that you can breathe and the pressure wont kill you, but theres no gravity-- the windlanes arent quite gravitational but they are a current that can transport people/materials-- and also apparently theres weird eldritch stuff. (the part of the spiral that isnt occupied/frequently traveled is called the Outer Dark???? thats the sickest thing ive ever heard what the hell. i need to incorporate that into my belief system immediately.)

actually no hang on im thinking about worlds and how they work some more. i know in pirate we travel between worlds via the windlanes and such, and we can obviously stand on an open ship deck without, like, needing to worry about breathing. is it a treasure planet/etherium situation, where its like Space But With An Atmosphere? what happens if you fall off the edge of a world? how far does a world's gravity extend-- does it work like a globe, where you can just walk around the edge of a world and wander onto the underside of it? or would you literally just fall into open space?

how do the solar cycles work? the fact that there's astral magic named for the sun and the moon as well as all the iconography accompanying it suggests that those two bodies do exist, but is there an individual sun and moon for each world? how does that affect its orbit? do some worlds just lack either of them like marleybone? polaris DOES have a sun and we know it because of this bit of dialogue when we first get there:

but it is the same sun we see constantly setting on zafaria? or the same sun we see in that weird liminal space in the mirage prequesting? as far as i can remember most skyboxes dont have a visible sun but i may be forgetting something

and then on the other end of astral magic we know stars exist obviously except they look different on different worlds-- see places like Marleybone and Grizzleheim VS. Polaris. and like obviously outside of the game i know its because they adopted a less cartoony style later on, so they forewent the hand-drawn-looking stars in those earlier two worlds in favor of more realistic ones. (worth mentioning we are all the better for it polaris is one of my favorite worlds strictly for how GORGEOUS it is.) but how is that explained in-universe? is it explained at all or are we just supposed to accept that the stars look different when viewed from different worlds??

i know all of this can probably be explained with Weird Magic Shit but i am a man of SCIENCE damnit i demand plausibility from my fantasy wizard game,

[andreaheartscats]

Hi! I was wondering if you could please do Sal fisher who’s dating someone who has a pet rats? (Like 2-3) ╰(*´︶`*)╯♡

oh my god yess!! also hello there to you too:) this is my first time writting a request so i hope i don't disappoint you :')

a/n: i hope this is what you expected and sorry for any grammer mistakes i made! proofread? nahh. im too lazy but anyways i hope you enjoy !

"Do you have a rat problem?"

You were chilling in your apartmant waiting for your boyfriend Sal to come over. You called him a few minuts ago over your walkie-talkie he gave to you not too long ago.

While waiting for him, you decided to play with your two pet rats Harry and Jerry. ( don't ask why i named them that, it's the first thing that came to my mind and it rhymes.)

You took them both out of their cage and placed Jerry, the darker gre one, on your shoulder. And kept Larry in your hands as you gently stroked his tiny head.

You checked their cage in the meantime, making sure it was clean and they had all they need. When suddenly there was a knock on your front door.

Finally. That should be Sal. Even tho he literally lives in the same apartmant building as you, he somehow always takes too long to get to your apartmant.

You placed Harry on your other shoulder and went to get the door. You opend the door and there you saw your living boyfriend Sal with his usual mask on. But only this time you could see his eyes were slightly wide?

"You have rats?!"

was literally the first thing he said to you. "Yea? and your making it sound like i have a rat problem.."

for a moment he was silent while he watched the air of rats climb around your shoulders, sniffing your neck.

You moved to the side and let Sal in so you two could sit in your living room.

"These are my pet rats, how come you never noticed their cage in my bedroom?"

You asked slightly confused while filling a glass of water for him and getting some snacks out. Meanwhile, Harry and Jerry were still just chilling on your shoulders.

"I mean yea i did notice the cage.. but i thought it was for a hamster..."

You chuckle out slightly as you place the glass water on the coffee table and a bowl of some chips.

Comfortably, you sat down on the couch next to Sal. "Wanna pet them?"

you straight up asked him while holding Harry in the palm of your hands, while Jerry was climbing on top of your head.

Not gonna lie, Sal thought it was cute. How you had pet rats and how much you loved animals in general.

Sal nodded his head as he bought his hand to pet Harry.

"gently now."

You told Sal as he began to pet his little head, he seemd to enjoy it.

"Aww i think he likes you"

"Really? Well thats a realife, i don't know what i would've done if my partners pet rats didn't like me."

Sal joked as you two laughed together.

The rest of the time, Sal was playing with your two rats. For a moment it seemed as if he liked them more than you (that ain't true yall). It was cute seeing him smile and laugh without his mask. Especially while he played with your rats.

Now that you think about it.. you gotta be extra careful about them if you want to live with him... I mean gizmo, come on.

[wolvesofinnistrad]

Buck is so fucking tired. Its been months, months trapped in this godforsaken day.

Hes tried everything to get out, he tried making up with his exes (except Tommy), hes tried talking to everyone he knows (except Tommy), hes even tried many implausible and at times downright stupid things (only half of those were based on ideas from Chimney and Eddie.)

Today was a break day. Hed needed a few to recover after his last attempt. At least the airtime had been nice for a few seconds before the pain cut straight to the next day. No strategizing either, not that he was getting much of anywhere since he had to remind whoever he was with that day, (usually Eddie, sometimes Hen or Chim, occassionally Maddie, rarely anyone else after the first few times) of every scheme hed already tried.

No today he was doing the only mildly interesting part of this living prison, exploring the city. He'd found a new farmer's market, went to the beach, and now he was stopping to get coffee.

As he exited the building he ran directly into someone, spilling his coffee all over himself. The burn honestly didnt much phase him anymore. Not after day 87 anyway. Still.

"Dang, watch it man," he said, none of the usual fawning apologies he'd have given before the loop.

"No it was my... fault," came a voice he knew so well yet hadnt heard in almsot a year now.

Well, for him almsot a year, for Tommy Kinnard standing in front of him it was only like 2 months.

"Oh this is fucking great," he said to himself before pulling out his phone. "Hildy make a not not to come here next loop I'm not doing this again," he said as he turned and started to walk away.

Then a hand grabbed his wrist and tugged, he tried to wrench his arm away but Tommy was just as strong as he was.

"Evan, what did you just say?"

Buck shook himself loose after another jolt of his arm before looking at Tommy. It still hurt, fuck it did, but he had worse things to deal with. "Don't worry about it Tommy. You don't ever have to worry about me again, you made that clear." Again hes about to turn away when Tommy calls out to him.

"Are you in a time loop?"

That was a new record. Chim had been the fastest to ever get it at 2 hours. Slowly he turned around, despite his better judgment.

"Considering you won't rmemeber this tomorrow, and we wont see each other, yes Tommy Ive been stuck in a time loop for months now. Its getting pretty fucking old actually." Despite the fact he was definitely being a bit bitchy, Tommys face was doing some confusing journey between surprise, relief and then happiness. By the time he stopped talking the man seemed to be vibrating before he pounced, hugging Buck so hard he thought he might crack a rib.

As much as Buck might have missed this, he was pretty fucking confused. "To-mmy..."

Tommy let go, pulling back and laughing a bit hysterically. "Evan," oh, his name sounded so good on Tommys tongue how had he forgotten "i thought i was going crazy."

"What?"

Tommy shook his head. "I mean, i didnt believe it at first. Obviously you know my skepticism, even after the Billy Boils thing." Tommy gave him a softer smile then. "But after a while, and a few different trips to the hospital it became clear there wasnt anything physically wrong with me, which meant either i was crazy, or, well, I was stuck in a time loop."

Buck stood there staring at the man he'd once been on the cusp of loving, of spending forever with, and realized they were both stuck, potentially forever, in a single day.

"I cant believe this... have you met anyone else thats on the loop?"

Tommy shook his head again, glancing around before motioning for them to take a seat outside the cafe. He grabbed some napkins, giving them to Buck to wipe at his stained shirt.

"No. Ive talked to a few people, Lucy, Sal, even Howie a few different times but never even considered someone else might be stuck too."

Buck dabbed at his shirt with little actual concern. He was more focused on this trippy development. "And youve tried to get out?"

"Oh boy, yes, tried doing everything right, doing nothing, tried talking to my dad even, that was a big mistake." His head tilted to the side in that way Buck remembered fondly, when Tommy was trying to dodge the severity of something he didnt want to admit hurt. "Heck I even called Abby thinking maybe i needed to apologize or something but... nothing." He held out his empty hands and shrugged.

Buck couldnt help what came out next. "Didnt call to apologize to me. And Id know, considering im also in the loop."

Tommy didnt say anything for a long moment until. "I thought about it. So many times. Talked myself out of it. Didnt think it was right to only contact you to try to free myself."

"Self sacrificing idiot," Buck said, tossing a balled up napkin at his chest.

"Guilty as charged."

That admission actually made Buck smile for the first time. "Dang, only took you a full blown time loop to admit it huh?"

Tommy laughed. "Groundhog day hell has humbled me I guessm"

Buck quirked an eyebrow. "What does any of this have to do with a holiday about a rodent predicting the weather?"

Tommy looked surprised, the expression soon melting into a sort of shocked amusement. "Ill explain it to you later. Looks like we've got the time. A lot of it actually."

"Yeah, I guess we do." Buck looked at him, and it still hurt, but there was camaraderie there, stuck in the same situation with only one person that understood. For the first time since the breakup he felt like things were starting to make sense again. And maybe, just maybe, if they could find a way to move past this day... well maybe they could find a way to move past their own problems too.

[ghostfrog28]

Yuurivoice Characters And Listeners As Incorrect Quotes!

I already did this with Escaped Audios (sort of, it was mostly DennysVerse) but for these, the way the listeners respond will mostly be based off of my OCs for them (which I will make posts about eventually) PS, this is mostly Boo and Alphonse lol

~~

Alphonse: [Grabs Boo's ass while they're gettin groceries out of the car]

Boo: Excuse me thats my ass

Alphonse: That's our ass. We're married, bitch

~~

Finn: If I were a gardener, I'd put our tulips together.

Sunflower: Aww, babe. That's so sweet.

Alphonse: If I were a gardener, you'd be my hoe.

Boo: ... thanks

~~

Lucien: *stroking Angel’s hair* you're so tiny.

Angel: *sleepily* I could beat the shit out of you.

Lucien: *lovingly* | know.

Or

Alphonse: *stroking Boo’s hair* you're so tiny.

Boo: *sleepily* I could beat the shit out of you.

Alphonse: *lovingly* | know.

(It’s funny cuz my OC for Boo is 6’0, meanwhile, my OC for Angel is 5’3)

~~

Charlie: My boyfriend is too tall for me to kiss him on the lips. What should I do?

Boo: Punch him in the stomach. Then, when he doubles over in pain, kiss him.

Angel: Tackle him.

Star: Dump him.

Rook: Kick him in the shin.

Casper: NO TO ALL OF THOSE. JUST ASK ME TO LEAN DOWN.

(my Casper OC is 6’4 lol)

~~

Boo, making chicken and dumpling soup, dropping a dumpling on the floor: This is sadder than the time I almost died in College

Alphonse or Seth, choking on his coffee: Excuse me?

(rewrote this one a little bit)

~~ ⚠️ Slight NSFW ⚠️

Boo: I can’t eat this, its far too hot

Alphonse: You're far too hot yet I still manage

Room: Um-

Auron: WE'RE ON A DOUBLE DATE, I'M RIGHT HERE

~~ ⚠️ NSFW Again ⚠️

Boo: oh fuck me

Seth: yes please

Boo: what?

Seth: what?

Alphonse from the other room: HE SAID YES PLEASE!

~~

Alphonse: BOO! WHERE'S MY-

Sugarboo: By the door

Seth: Sugar! Do you know where the-

Sugarboo: In the kitchen

Charlie: Hey Sal (OC name), have you seen my stack of-

Sugarboo: On Seth's nightstand

Sugarboo: Independent my ass. You guys would fall apart without me

(Sal is my OC for Sugarboo)

~~ ⚠️ Slight NSFW ⚠️

Charlie: bro-

Casper: No, no, hold up, rewind.

Charlie: ...

Casper: My tongue was down your throat just a second ago, and now you're calling me bro??

~~ ⚠️you guessed it, NSFW ⚠️

Seth: What exactly do you think of me?

Sugarboo: Somewhere between "fuck you" and "I'd fuck you."

~~

Alphonse: I don't think | can mansplain, manipulate, or malewife our way out of it this time.

Boo: *cracks knuckles* Manslaughter it is.

Alphonse: What- no!

~~

Star: When Faust was born, the gods said, "He's too perfect for this world."

Auron: Please. When he was born, the devil said, "Oh, competition."

~~

Boo: I don't need to go to bed. I'm not tired, I'll be fine.

Alphonse: But, darling, I'll be so lonely without you. Come curl up in my arms so l can feel whole again.

Boo: O-oh. Well... Wait. Are you trying to seduce me into healthy sleeping patterns??

Alphonse: Is it working?

(this one could be vise versa)

~~

Alphonse, at some point: You speak RUSSIAN ?? Say something !!!

Boo: Ты самый красивый мужчина в мире, любовь моя (You're the most beautiful man in the world, my love.)

Alphonse: What does it mean ?

Boo: It means don't give me orders you fucking bastard

(Another little thing, my OC for Sugarboo is half Russian and half British)

~~

Seth, after learning Sugarboo also speaks Russian: Does Sugar think in English or Russian?

Alphonse: Bold of you to assume Boo thinks.

~~

Rook: Ugh, life can be difficult sometimes.

Sal (Sugarboo): But death, on the other hand...

Rook, squirting Sal with a water sprayer: No, Sal

~~

Boo: I don't think Faust is very happy about you dating his brother.

Rook: What makes you say that?

Boo, reading a text aloud: Rachel (Rook). I hope this message finds you before I do.

~~

That’s all for now! Hope you enjoyed!

[theshypinkflower]

Frothing from the mouth over your derek headcanons If you have any abt him youve been wanting to share I would LOVE to hear them

- In highschool Derek got his ears pierced (simple diamond studs to make himself look cool and Sal ripped one of the stud out of his ear because it “made him look like a fag.” Derek’s left ear lobe now has a little scar.

- Derek bullies mentally ill girls on twt, either because he thinks they’re cringe or because he wants to be a dick. He loves mentally ill girls cause they’re so easy to manipulate and force to send him nudes and SH pics (because of course Derek wants to see that).

- Sal made Derek do football in highschool. Needless to say, Derek was a bench warmer while Matt was the star player. Didn’t matter cause Derek still got to put a football patch on his letterman.

- Derek is TERRIBLE with animals. They don’t really like him. The only animal who actually liked him was a puma Sal adopted for awhile.

- His favorite food is sushi, sadly he ruins any quality expensive sushi by dousing it in soy sauce. His spice tolerance is shit btw, so he doesn’t even touch the wasabi. In general he really likes seafood, which is a stark contrast to Sal and Matt who are meat and potatoes kinds guys.

- Every Fourth of July, Derek goes to some “red neck” (literally just a more rural city) and buys so many fireworks for cheap. He doesn’t care if some are duds or dangerous, most of them are gonna go up and make a show. He’ll grab a paper towel roll and fill it with a bunch of smaller fireworks and light it on the dock of the lake house his family goes to during holidays. It makes a huge explosion and scares the crap of everyone.

- Derek only has one band he really likes and its MSI. He saw a bunch of "edgy" people online reposting their songs and he likes em! Everything else in his liked playlist is shit other people listen to. Likes his friend's rap favorites or his dad's 80s favorites. It's one of those bands he listens to whenever hes alone.

- Derek once dressed like an e-boy to garner some attention from girls. Needless to say it worked.

- Every couple of weeks he gets a touch up on his hair. Bleaches the roots, toner, trim, the works. He has an amazing barber who helped Derek fix his hair when he once tried using box dye bleach. It was a nightmare.

- When some of his younger siblings were born he tried giving them away. Like he put Matt in a box and sloppily wrote “FREE BABY” in big letters. It wasn’t until a neighbor knocked on the door with Matt in hands that Sal realized his baby was missing. Needless to say Derek got an ass whopping.

- Derek loves the water! I imagine he’s a really good swimmer (he learned to swim by getting thrown in the pool by Sal).

- Derek sucks at golf, but is decent at tennis. Although the hates doing doubles since Matt and Sal always get onto him for his serves. He use to play tennis a lot with his younger sister, Rochelle, but now all she does is tan by the pool whenever they go to the country club.

- Derek has been in a car accident. He was drunk driving and crashed into someone else. He was arrested for it and Sal had to bail him out. Again, Derek was beaten severely for this. Along with other crimes such as: shoplifting, vandalism, destruction of public property, disorderly conduct, and public nudity (he snuck out to go skinny dipping with friends).

- Derek is a reckless driver whenever his dad or Matt isn’t in the car with him. Like he has at least five speeding tickets in his glovebox. (How does this man even have a driver’s license)

- He absolutely hates weddings. Mostly cause of how many he’s had to sit through thanks to his dad. The only good thing about a wedding is the bar they usually have. Unless they don’t, then he’ll opt for being a menace and catching the bouqet during the bouqet toss (who the hell would marry Derek).

- For the longest time Derek said his favorite cocktail was an Old Fashioned (cause thats what rich people drink I guess) yet he never actually had one. It wasn’t until he ordered on while out clubbing and had to try so hard to keep a straight face. He will never talk about how he chugged down his friend’s fruit and sweet sangria cocktail (because he’s MAN HE SHOULNDT NEED FRUITY SISSY SHIT RAAAAAAH).

[routersims]

president mind situation my take AND WHY I WAS WRONGLY BANNED!!!! (and why you shouldnt hate me!) TW/CW: mentions of shipping (sorta) and nsfw (chonny jash

this gonna be a long wall of text just sayin.. but pleeaaase read im tired of people slandering my name when im not bad.

im way better than the people who got me banned i was literally a scapegoat bro.. cordial and corey and all them mfs are so weird but thats a whole different thing

OK!! FIRST: Addressing the things i was banned for.

i was banned for hms sex jokes and erp yea true there is literally proof of the sex jokes but they're nothing but jokes even ppl who are told of the incident laugh at the screenshots because its so obvious that i WAS KIDDING. and being banned for erp? with no proof? really? yeah whatever literally none of what i did wrong was in the rules. especially for out of server stuff YEAH. IT WAS OUTSIDE THE FUCKING SERVER… IT WAS ALL IN A PRIVATE GROUP CHAT AND SOMETIMES (RARELY) DMS. everyone in the group chat was completely and 100% fine with EVERYTHING happening! everyone had said so. (let me clarify: there was no out of server rules when we were banned, they added them so they can fucking control their server members over shit like this like bffr.) stuff in the rp wasnt supposed to make anyone uncomfortable or be serious in anyway when it came to sexual stuff, the rp itself actually existed outside of the groupchat with extensive lore but it wasn't really sexual at all. the rp was kept private SO PEOPLE WOULDNT BE UNCOMFORTABLE.. even so, it being private wasnt enough apparently because some little rats had to jump into a place they didnt belong and build a whole ass story off the shit I did wrong?? when i literally did NOTHING against the rules. sure you can be like "oohh you were sexualizing chonny jash" sure! hms were there but we never mentioned chonny himself. we treated all three of them like our own ocs and completely unaffiliated with him, we thought it was fucking weird to sexualize chonny in anyway. (soul wasnt sexualized and anyone else in the rp were just OCs).

i never meant to make anyone uncomfortable, I never meant to make chonny uncomfortable i never meant to do ANYTHING wrong. I didnt think i was doing anything wrong. I didnt do anything wrong by the rules. IT WAS ALL PRIVATE. it was all JOKES. other people (CORDIAL) literally make hms nsfw jokes (AND JUST NSFW) about HMS in PUBLIC and get less backlash than i did? like are you serious? what is this favoritism? what did i even do wrong against the rules or in general if we just fucking allow this stuff?

you all act like im a piece of shit and problematic for what I did. but, I wasnt sexualizing chonny jash. I wasnt making anyone uncomfortable. I wasnt being weird in public. I was just a stupid kid bro, I know what I did was wrong. I'm sorry if you want to hear. i havent erped or done anything sexual since that whole thing.. ESPECIALLY NOT WITH CHONNY JASH!!! i dont even rp HMS in general AT ALL and avoid it outside of my roblox group + youtube channel.

Seriously guys It's been a fucking year I'm tired of you dragging my name when you dont know the whole story. you only know the things said by sal and the people who got me banned and they're ALL FUCKING WEIRDER THAN ME.

they fucking ran into something that wasnt their business, they stole screenshots from a groupchat they werent even in and fucking plotted getting us banned for like a week or two? like how odd are you? cordial's weird. cordial did / does the same shit i did that got me banned BUT WORSE. cordial does even more weird shit I can't disclose because the person who came out to me asked me not to. i quite literally was a scapegoat for this fucking weirdos and im so tired of having my name dragged because of them.

now, Sal?? sals a fucking weirdo too. like how are you the owner of a fucking huge fan server and when your server member gets wrongfully banned you continuously TALK SHIT IN PUBLIC CHAT ABOUT THE WHOLE SITUATION? what kind of a fucking owner are you? you really sat there telling EVERYONE about the situation, dragging my name, and for what. because you were bored? you're a fucking adult and im a minor. need i bring up the weird shit you say in general chat too? i remember seeing you saying weird shit about a server member wearing a collar. fucking creep. now lets talk about the other admins!

who are you—fucking adults when the whole situation was with minros—to ban us out of fucking no where when it wasnt against the rules and private. then fucking drag our names with it. YOU ARE ADULTS. WE ARE KIDS. WE WERE DUMB KIDS. mind your fucking business instead of making it a whole big deal and making everyone hate us for over a fucking year.

HOW MANY TIMES DO I HAVE TO STRESS THIS? WE. WERE. DUMB. KIDS. I'M SORRY! I AM. If i made you uncomfortable, tell me! i will personally respond and give you a fucking apology and im 100% serious bro just stop treating me like im a fucking monster.

all I ever wanted to fucking do was make you people laugh and have fun with you then you fucking get me banned and drag my name and call me problematic when the shit i did WASNT EVEN BAD.

i dont care, if you forgive me i'll forgive you and we can forget everything but you have to fucking see my side of the story. you have to look me in the eyes and understand where im coming from; if you're even willing. i dont hate any of you, I still love the community (maybe not chonny jash as much just because I still feel guilty..) and I just wish I could come back and be accepted for the funny gal I once was known as.

I didnt know I was doing anything wrong, not until I was fucking banned out of the blue without being asked my side of the story. until I got that banned message with no context, without a fucking explanation without ANY reasoning or reaching out to me. suddenly everyone I loved in the server where I met all of my friends hated me and thought I was problematic?? i was so fucking sad and confused and nobody gave a SHIT about me.

ur server died and sucks since u banned me btw should've minded your FUCKING BUSINESS. but thats besides the point,

you mods suck. the people who got me banned, suck. the people who slander my name when you dont understand, SUCK!!! and im sorry. im sorry for everything, im sorry for making you uncomfortable and upset, even if I was wronged. I dont know how many times I have to say it or beg to be understood or how many CJ fans I have to re-meet and tell me im really cool and didnt deserve what happened until you actually fucking understand and let me back in, because Im not a piece of shit! im probably the nicest person you'll ever meet, if you even fucking bother to meet me.

i forgive you, please just forgive me and recognize the fact that i aint a monster or problematic.. im just a stupid kid who didnt mean to do any wrong and ive grown since then.

I'll clear up one more thing, because as you know I'm dating mortis (THE MORTIS) and shes a lot more problematic than me:

mortis does her own things and when we started dating she didnt act like this and I know there's kindness in her thats why I dont leave her for her actions. I dont support all the stuff she does, not at all. I'm afraid to talk to her about it (hi mortis you're definitely reading this!) I love her, even though she does the stuff she does.

I'm pro-Palestine, and I love and support everyone regardless if I know you or not. in order to function, we have to all see eachother eye-to-eye. I don't think any of you are insane, or "mentally ill freaks", I love everyone. except you cordial fuck you but I do love everyone else. even if I have a differing opinion, or think a certain way about you or your behavior, I'm not gonna hate on you or go out of my way to bully you like she does and I apologize on her behalf for the things she has said.

separate me from her actions please, I love her and I could never bring myself to leave her unless she actually does physically hurt someone or do something else insanely bad (p.s. shes also pro-palestine she just um is weird about it. clearing that up)

I like chonny jash still (mostly CCCC), I like the community still, I love my girlfriend, I love everyone and I just want to make everyone happy and smile so please stop dragging my fucking name. I. AM. SORRYYY!!! I have so many people that can vouch for me in the community and outside of it, please for once just listen to me and them.

sorry for bad grammar/formatting and repeating myself I'm really trying to get my point across here and just thinking as I type.. (no this is not president mind returning, he wont ever be this is just routersims here and im trying to get people to like me again, maybe!!! maybe even unban me!!!!!!!! im fucking innocent!!!!!)

yea thats about it guys

as for anything with mortis, we have since broken up and i dont want to go back and edit that right now so yeah, its a whole separate thing and i dont wanna talk about it

ok bye

ps. adding chonny jash tag cuz my friends are telling me to, im not trying to get chonny to see it.. just adding this little note!

[devourers-of-god]

Hiii! Could you do a Sal x reader who has sensor issues and anxiety? Like they get really panicked when things get to loud or theres to many people and over thinks alot? If not thats fine to :))

TYYQKDBBS

HII!! Of course :) I will try my best to portray what you are asking me! If i wrote something not accurate, feel free to correct me<3 im doing a kinda one shot for this one, WITH hcs at the end.

SAL X READER WITH SENSORY ISSUES & ANXIETY

Warnings: nothing srs but you guys aren’t dating in this mwehehe

Type: one shot AND hcs

JUST FRIENDS? Sal x reader one shot

School was hard for everyone, especially for you. You’ve been struggling with sensory issues your whole life, being at school was already enough of a sensory overload for you and your anxiety did not help either. Sal and you had been friends since he moved to Nockfell, he knew you like the back of his hand and was very aware of the challenges you faced everyday. He always took the time to remind you to take your medication, even bringing your pills to school when he knew you would forget. You guys were always close to eachother, basically stuck like glue. Explained by « we’re just friends ».

You had a tendency to overthink a lot about basically anything in your life, but Sal was always patient with you, reminding you that you matter and that he’s always there to help you in moments of crisis. Sadly that day happened when Sal and you were hanging out in the city, it was very crowded, more than usual. You’re normally used to going in the city but the hot, too hot, temperature didn’t help your sensory issues. Neither did the sweat, people’s loud conversations, sounds of cars passing by, birds singing, people laughing. Everything started to feel like a bad memory, you unconsciously held Sal’s hand. Your breathing accelerated gravely, just like your heart rate. Sal looked at his hand, fingers locked with yours, then slowly looked up at you. He immediately knew something was wrong. Sal decided to pull you aside from the crowd to make you feel better.

« what’s going on y/n? » he said, holding eye contact and both of your hands now. You broke eye contact while trying to gather your thoughts to be able to answer him.

« I- I’m » you took a deep breath

« Shh y/n, I’m here for you okay? Take your time » Sal said, smiling softly under his mask.

« Too many people and- and it’s really hot.. I think I’m having a sensory overload- I’m sorry » Tears flood your eyes slowly. Sal squeezed your hands a bit harder to remind you he’s there.

«  There’s no need to apologize, I know this is hard for you, let’s just breathe in and out together okay? Slowly. » You nodded, happy with how good he is at handling things like that. He scooted over to you, showing you how to breathe properly, still holding your hands. While having your hands together he brushed his thumb across yours slowly. You felt your face heating up. Being this close to him made you forget everything. There was so much pain in this world but not in here. After a comfortable silence, you finally spoke up.

« Thank you Sal… you always know how to make me feel better » you smiled softly, resting your head on his shoulder. Sitting there with the blue haired boy made you feel a pleasing sensation in your body. Sal felt joyous to hear that he helped you just now. He felt his face heat up when you rested your hand on him.

« I don’t want to leave this moment.. I don’t want this to be a memory y/n.. » he whispered softly, just enough so you can’t tell what he said clearly.

You looked up to him with a confused expression « What’d you say Sal? »

He sighed quietly « Nothing! » he let out a nervous chuckle « let’s go to my place instead yeah? » You smiled wildly.

« I would love that, we need to finish the movie anyway right ? » Sal nodded happily as you two got up, still not letting go of your hand. You were now walking like you’ve been going out for years already, like it was normal. You only noticed when arrived to his apartment.

After this, Sal and you had a great rest of the day.

SAL X READER WITH SENSORY ISSUES/ ANXIETY HCS !!! DATING !!!

- he always knows when something is wrong, he takes the time to help you and make you feel loved.

- even though you think what you’re overthinking about is stupid, Sal reassures you and stay close to you until you feel better.

- like I wrote earlier, you’re always at his place and sometimes forget to pick up your medication, so he brings it to you wherever you are. He knows days are worse when you’re not on it.

- because of his ability to be an amazing boyfriend, it’s rare you actually overthink lots about your relationship with him. But when it happens, you better know he’s at your front door with blankets, snacks, dvds and good video games to comfort and make you feel relaxed all night.

Okep guys !! I hope you enjoyed this hahaha I think it’s the first time I’ve done a one shot.. critics are always welcome !!

PMS: open

REQUESTS: ALWAYS OPEN!!

[starsoftheeye]

watched the first two agggtm episodes with my mum today, and here are some of her observations as someone who never read the books

thought the murder squad were dressed "very cool"

kept dissing pips less than stellar decoy skills during the shop scene

was also not impressed with the bribery muffins. i told her about pipravis meeting in the books and she thought bringing the muffins after ravi knew what pip wanted from him was much more sensible

thought that sal and naomi were sleeping together and that was sals alibi that naomi mentioned to pip

clocked pipravi a mile away. ravi said "thats what we need to find out" and she just said "oooh now theyre gonna team up to solve the case and fall in love"

initially thought it was ravi in the woods before the note got placed under pips pillow during the camping scene?? idk why she thought this

then when the note got revealed she pivoted to cara and said shes sketchy

immediately figured out andie was sleeping with dan, but also thinks secret older guy could be max hastings dad?

I'll post more of these as we watch more episodes, but shes enjoying the show so far which is good cause i've been pestering her to watch it with me for weeks. also this is my first time watching the show as well so i might get things wrong in my posts since im going off of the books and ik the show isnt 100% accurate