#i dont blame you Wade

[finkadink]

Wolverine’s biggest fan

[turtleblogatlast]

Every day I’m haunted by the fact the boys happily swim in sewer water

Even if it’s filtered somehow there’s no way it’s not still nasty 😭 Bet they can defeat any of their villains just by accidentally giving them diseases I swear

[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

[icarusredwings]

I rewatched Deadpool 2 and took notes.

Disclaimer: He's mentally ill and does mentally ill things (GASP, who would have thought?). Also, violence. A lot of violence. It's really long. Like.. really really long.

The very first words he says is "fuck wolverine"

Then blows his own head off with a shit ton of gasoline. Wonder if he had insurance on that appartment.

He started taking worldwide cases

He also admits to knowing "8th grade spanish"

"Passion of the christ. Then me." Says the man whos marvel jesus now.

I wonder how much wade owes cab guy.

Cab guy killed bandu Lmao

"What is it?"

"My IUD"

"A bomb??" Tell me why he was lowkey excited for it to be a bomb?

I love how serious he gets talking about how scared he is to be a dad.

This empire joke traveled from the first movie too.

"Pretty sure it doesn't work that way but we can try" yes.

When making toaster strudles its almost as if he could sense them coming despite it being so silent. This kind of makes me think that Logans not the only one who just jumps up sometimes.

This man really just said "Fuck it" jumped out of a 2 story window, BOLTED after this guy as fast as he could, got hit by a car, rammed another car, and whole ass hugged this guy before jumping in front of a truck with him. I don't want to see anyone try to tell me he's one sandwitch drop away from jumping off a cliff.

Cinatography by Blind Al.

Directed by one of those guys that killed john wicks dog.

God I love Ryan Reynolds because you know it was him.

Wade stop peeing your pants in public.

Weasel "We still have bowie..." Yeah id lie to him too at this point.

"Yeah im fine"

Fucked up

Insecure

Needy and

Emotional. Kübler ross apprently.

"Buck no more speaking lines for you" and he meant that shit.

Al is so humble and sweet. Making tea and giggling. Tries to shoot him and then just hears him collapse on the floor. How many times do you think he collapses on the floor a week? Just to be drimatic?

"Sweetheart can you speak up? Its a little hard to hear you with yhat pity dick in your mouth" Oh so shes his mom. Al is his fucking mom. Hands down. And the best one.

I love how he decided to do an entire bag of cocaine before dying. There was no reason for it and honestly was a waste of cocaine until you realize that these cocaine is wades whiskey. Shots dont work for him really, probably because hes already done it so much, but its the same way how Logan chugs that bottle before wade kidnaps him. Its easier to blame it on a substance then accept those were your actions.

Ness is so cute. The poster behind her has "I love you wade wilson" scratched into it. Its nice to know that his version of heaven is literally just a cozy Saturday morning with his wife.

Colossus just walking in to find wades body parts everywhere and put him in a bag like old dirty clothes lol

"Why cant I fucking die" tone was SO serious.

The fact that theres an x men rule book and its lowkey thicker then a bible. I bet you scott and Logan made 80% of those.

"That asshole was me" oh the tears. Baby boyy.

Wait isnt cable literally scotts son.

Im never going to understand this fucking time line jesus christ

Mutant rehabilitation?? What is he a drug addict? That kid is clearly in pain dipshits.

"X men trainee" is so funny

"Please stop cheating on me"

Daniel the pedophile looking ass

Bro casually signs ryan reynolds on the wolverine cereal box and then destroys his knee caps.

"Those guys hurt you??" It was at that moment, wade went ape shit.

Wade having fun in prison is so him. But come on imagine going to prison just for standing up to an abused child. Not to mention, His face when he immediately realizes how fucked he is and that "oh shit I actually DO have cancer now and it SUCKS"

Is it just me or does Cable reminds you of forge with all his cool fix it abilities. Or is he just futurey.

He didn't say were not friends to make him upset but to draw attention to himself. Him just eye rolling when stabbed in the hand was so funny too because he was like "Ouch. God damn it. Ducking OUCH."

Hes literally pleading with russel to find someone else to peotect him or hes gonna get molested because he cant do anything. His entire power is replacing dead cells WITH new cancer cells. His entire body is dying 24/7 but never fast enough to actually kill him, always regrowing way too quickly. Cancerous is better then dead.

"Get away from me kid" yeah cause he knows hes trouble and he REALLY doesn't wanna watch this kid die.

"Who the hell tries to kill a 14 year old boy"

"Kids give us a chance to be better then we used to be"

Dopinder is so wholesome. I love him so much. No i dont care that he killed a guy. Hes the type of friend you call to take to the movies or the zoo once every year and hes stoked just to be invited.

Peter: I just thought it looked fun :D

Dopinder: FUCK

Peter is that one dad whos kids left the nest and now he needs friends and a hobby so searches for the biggest weirdos he can find.

"Grab the boy- NOT INAPPROPRIATELY >:("

i love his crayon maps/plans

Oh my god weasel im not telling you anything ever again you snitch (same dude, cable is terrifying)

After crying over the love he has for his new team (x force) Wade confirms that he spent 10 years in special forces.

I love how supportive wade is with Peter despite him just being a normal dude only for him to immediately die LMAO

He just cassually lets his impulse win in which he steals a moped.

Oh i just noticed Dominos vitiligo. I always loved vitiligo charaters. Theyre so unique and barley ever given movie roles. Like why not?? Why wouldnt you want someone so beautiful? Im pretty sure she just has make up but it would be cool if not.

Something else is that cable just starts yeeting criminals out onto the street lol

"Theres nothing I cant kill" Let me intorduce you to the man whos on a constant road to dying but can never actually get there.

Im assuming cable wants to kill russel because he unleashes a big bad guy or something.

*cassually snaps neck back into place* Oh god that hurt!

Oh I was right! It was Juggernaut :)

Wade: *gets excited about being PHYSICALLY ripped in half*

"Rub my legs mama 🥺 I got growing pains"

"Oh noo! No no no Dp not again!" We love you Dopinder. Do not ever stop caring. "This shits happened before!?" Yes weasel. Sometimes your friends get ripped in half. Get used to it.

Wade just moves her gun to the right position.

Wade talking about saving russel is so serious that it makes you forget that he has a tiny baby ass rn. I couldn't make a deal with someone woth tiny baby legs... just... no. Not to mention that those baby legs are made of cancer.

"50 years from now you're super fucking dead"

Wade standing outside of the xmen mansion with his phone and a picture of a boom box playing music for Colossus to come outside and help him save russel is something i can see happening to Logan. They have a fight and he storms off to the mansion only for wade to stand outside like that.

"Hi Wade🎀✨️" "Hi Yukio!🥹 you guys make a super cute couple 😊 where was I? 🤨"

"So you wear a helmet so your brother cant read your mind?" "Yeaaahh" average kid conversations.

"Lets fuck some shit up is my legal middle name"

Okay sir edgelord.

Apprently wade has a gluten sensitivity

What is it with wade and metal men??? My man has a type.

"Im just gonna use this brick and maximum effort" Same wade. Same.

Yaayy!! Go yukio! Eveyone loves yukio.

"Thats how we do it in mother russia" What? Shoving an electrical cable up their ass and then put them in a pool? Damn. Ok.

That "I never should have never left you in that prison" with the hug? Man hed be a decent dad I think.

"Dont be ive been trying to make this happen for awhile" okay someone supervise him 24/7. Hes on the active watch list.

Wade: *is dying* Hi Yukio :D

Yukio: Hi wade :)

"R-dog" Oh my god hes too cute.

Them carrying the racist joke all the way til the end made me cringe but that was the point.

His last words being "do you wanna build a snow man?" Is such a deadpool thing.

I was NOT expecting to cry at the end of this stupid ass movie, AGAIN

"Dont fuck colossus" VANESSA KNEW

THE FUCKING COIN

"Is there a knife in my dick?" "There's a knife in your dick."

Oh I just didn't even notice she has heterochromancia! <3 Aahh!!

PFFT DOPINDERS SECOND CONFIRMED KILL

"WERE DEFINITELY NAMINF OUR KID CHER"

"Dont scratch!" *shoots himself 8 times* "Love you! Bye."

Wolverine: ???

[iamnotshazam]

i saw the LotR films before ever reading the books and i love both. i turn now more to the books than the movies for enjoyment.

but i also feel like the three movies just. fucken. cracked it out of the park with some important things and i had NO idea how good i had it as a little nerd delving into the extended edition dvd extras. if i were a fan in the gritty-obsessed 90's hearing rumors of these movies, i would have expected at best stuff like: B-list acting that occasionally broke through with honest emotions. some skilled costuming and weaponry popping up in important scenes but mostly just knock-off viking opera aesthetic. homebrew DND imagery that made it painfully obvious by contrast which scenes they actually spent money on the set design and dressing.

and WETA and New Line and everyone on this!!! they did NOT accept lower standards cause it was fantasy! everyone else would have. This was genre filmmaking, this would have been perceived at the time as more like How the Grinch Stole Christmas than a Cecil B Demille-level epic movie. And the costuming department, composer, propsmaster and set designer all said "NO" and put their whole pussies behind it!

Jesus Christ the quality in those movies! Ian McKellan has undershirts like Gandalf the White might have! Bernard Hill has realistic quilted padding underlayers all made in the style a Rohirrim tailor and armorer would have made! Minas Tirith has a rat catcher because someone took a doodle and decided that would make sense in the lived reality of a massive city! Movie makers do not usually do this. It is NEVER about what isnt seen or necessary for the shot. You are judged professionally not by if you can cut corners in order to help production and still seem good, but by HOW MUCH.

I cannot blame anyone who worked on the Amazon series in the hands-on creative roles because the results are what they have been trained to do. Blame executives. Blame executives! Of course chainmail is going to be, i dunno, plastic or sewn into the edges of costumes if you dont have the money or time for real chain mail! And because it cannot be overstated how unusual the LotR trilogy filmmaking process must have been. It's like being given an average lower middle class family grocery budget and told to make a fancy Christmas dinner for 20 all by yourself with no help versus having a trained staff, a blank check, and Martha Stewart on retainer. That's not an exaggeration. That's the rhetorical gulf that someone (Valar BLESS them) in the bureaucracy had to wade across to convince execs to buy into the details. The Lord of the Rings movies are WEIRD.

And it shows. Bookfans bitch about the story changes, the balrog wings, the characterization differences. (Denethor was a reasonable person and even outsider Pippin could see he was very admirable to the people of Gondor, which made it sooooo much creepier when he suddenly snapped but i digress) but NEVER about the music. the filming locations. the set designs. the costumes. the props. the things that i really think count the most to help invest people in a different world!

No one ever complains about taking out the scene where Rohan is summoned to Gondor's aid with the Red Arrow, because yeah they could have made it work, they made the importance of other props like Andúril and, oh yeah, the One Ring very clear, but they had a better idea.

The beacons.

The beacons were not in the book.

Not in the same way, really, because while incredible to think about the narrative style was close third person, and you cannot follow beacons to rhapsodize about them when you're a tired hobbit getting saddle sore crossing national borders with a grumpy old wizard. Pippin sees the Beacons of Gondor at a distance when he's falling asleep and Gandalf tells him they're a mustering signal within Gondor. Which makes sense, really, they require some upkeep and would be awkward for two nations to negotiate how to handle - nevermind. That's it. That's all the beacons are in the text.

Someone adapting the script saw a moment that was ho-hum in the book but realized ! 💡⚡️That would look really great on camera! And it is now routinely listed as one of the most important cinematic moments of anything, ever.

There are so many things I still want to ask Peter Jackson, "Why???" but the original trilogy movies overall? Work. They work and they do more than work, they helped elevate an entire artform that I don't honestly know that much about and oh god i usually dont ramble about them like this im embarassed is this already acknowledged in tumblr tolkien circles? or are we just split into different little fandoms in order to keep the peace?

[nappingpaperclip]

“People who tell you not to vote Biden are psyops trying to steal left votes” type posts are pro-government propoganda.

Last time y’all spread that bullshit around the blogs getting deleted for being “Russian spies” were black leftists.

NOT EVERYONE WHO DISAGREES WITH YOU IS A PSYOP. Get real!!

Not everyone who criticizes Biden or says they won’t be voting for a genocider and that you shouldn’t either wants you to vote for Trump or not vote!! Third party candidates exist!!! Write ins exist!!! If we actually organized instead of y’all pulling the “lesser evil” bs about a GENOCIDAL RACIST RAPIST OLD MAN we might actually see some fuckin progress!!

Did y’all forget Biden is a rapist?????

Btw is the “left” in the room with us? Where is the left? Where is the progress y’all keep claiming Biden is making?

Last time I checked Biden has not let those kids out of cages, has personally approved more huge pipelines that run through Indigenous lands and speed up climate change, has ex-BlackRock leaders (yknow, the top 10 climate change villains company who also funds most American private prisons as well as funding arms manufacturing companies, who spend millions lobbying politicians on environmental regulations, immigration and drug policy) in his cabinet, increased police and military budget, didn’t codify Roe v Wade, in fact he held it hostage for votes, hasn’t codified gay marriage or trans rights, hasn’t legalized marijuana, hasn’t raised the federal minimum wage, oh and also is DOING GENOCIDE in case y’all forgot or wanna tiptoe around the “some bad policies” y’all always talk about

Did y’all forget about his “nothing will fundamentally change” policy?

Y’all heard that and thought “left”?? Babes he’s a right leaning centrist AT BEST.

There are actually left candidates btw! Ones who care about things like Landback and reparations and free healthcare and education and sustainability! The ones y’all are telling people are throwaway votes/votes for Trump!! (Which isn’t even how the electoral college works btw)

So us telling y’all not to vote for a genocider makes us Russian psyop spies but y’all telling us not to vote for leftist third party candidates doesn’t? K.

Vote for who you want, I don’t give a fuck anymore, BUT DONT TELL HIM HE STILL HAS YOUR UNCONDITIONAL SUPPORT WHILE HES COMMITTING GENOCIDE IF YOU ACTUALLY WANT HIM TO STOP

The only way to get a politician to stop doing WAR CRIMES is to tell them you won’t vote for them or give them money or otherwise support them until they stop!

You can fucking lie if you want!!! All we’re asking is for y’all not to publicly announce Genocide Joe still has your unconditional support WHILE HES DOING GENOCIDE

His approval ratings are literally less than Trumps!

He has no one to blame but himself.

If he loses in November, I don’t want to hear y’all bitch and moan and blame black people or disillusioned voters or third party voters or “Russian spies” again like y’all did in 2016, I don’t want to see y’all blame anyone but him, BLAME BIDEN FOR HIS OWN ACTIONS. HE IS A GROWN MAN AND HAS THE MONEY AND POWER TO STOP IT IF HE ACTUALLY WANTED TO.

Y’all keep saying he’s doing his best to stop it, that he’s working behind the scenes, that he’s trying, IF HES TRYING WHY ARE WE STILL SENDING ISRAEL MONEY?

IF HE IS TRYING, WHY DID HE SEND ISRAEL MILLIONS OF DOLLARS IN SMALL PAYMENTS TO AVOID NOTIFYING CONGRESS?

IF HES TRYING WHY HAVE WE NOT SANCTIONED ISRAEL?

IF HES TRYING, WHY HAVE US SOLDIERS BEEN SEEN FIGHTING ALONGSIDE THE IDF?

IF HES TRYING WHY ARE WE SENDING EXPIRED MREs AS AID? EXPIRED FOOD DROPS THAT ARE NOT ENOUGH TO FEED MILLIONS OF STARVING PEOPLE, WITH FAULTY PARACHUTES THAT KILL CHILDREN?

IF HES TRYING, WHY DID WE BUILD A PORT CUTTING THE GAZA STRIP IN HALF, A PORT THAT NETANYAHU SAID WOULD BE USED TO DEPORT PALESTINIANS?

IF HES TRYING WHY DID HE SIGN OFF $14 BILLION FUCKING DOLLARS ON TOP OF THE ANNUAL CONTRACT AND SMALL SECRET PAYMENTS TO GO TOWARDS ISRAELS BOMBS AND GUNS AND FREE HEALTHCARE WHILE IGNORING THE PEOPLE HERE WHO NEED FOOD, HOUSES, AND HEALTHCARE???

DONT MAKE UP RUSSIAN SPIES TO POINT FINGERS AT! IF HE DOESNT WANT TO LOSE HE SHOULDNT DO GENOCIDE

IF GENOCIDE JOE LOSES THE ELECTION FUCKING BLAME HIM FOR DOING A GENOCIDE!!

[wade-a-minute]

Deadpool's voice and its media portrayals

I read this post by @jhirowolf and @spider-mand, which inspired me to make my own post specifically about dp's voice - please read the og post first!

In the comics it's known that Deadpool has a unique voice - his speech boxes are yellow while everyone elses' are white. What makes it unique is its quality (it's described as rough, raspy and gravelly) but I also think that it's its cadence too (i'll get in to this below). Unfortunately, Ryan's voice in the movies doesn't really come close to this - for multiple reasons.

Ryan's voice physically is very smooth and also pretty high but I get the sense that as dp, he doesnt really do much for his voice, he is pretty much just himself and cracking jokes. As @jhirowolf pointed out, he kind of has this smooth, sarcastic tone. For me the vibe is that of a stereotypical side-character who mumbles sarcastic comments at whatever the other characters are doing. Ryan's voice is often mellow, calm and even

I dont have concrete examples right now, but in the comics SO many characters call Wade insane mere minutes upon meeting him, despite the fact that they dont know anything about him apart from the fact that he is a mercenary.

Why? Because of his voice!

Immediately upon hearing him talk they conclude he is unhinged and unstable and generally unwell. He's loud, aggressive, speaks a mile a minute and on top of that makes dark jokes serious situations that no one else laughs at. It freaks people out and rightfully so! Adding on to this, I think he varies his pitch and rhythm frequently, further making him appear unstable because his voice is never even or monotone for more than a few seconds. I'm basing this on the fact that his speech bubbles are so much bigger than everyone else's (he talks a lot) and also bc he varies his facial expressions and body language a lot when he speaks.

@jhirowolf mentions that Denis Leary was the inspiration for his voice, which i had no idea about but looking at this video, I think his cadence is perfect. You feel that unlimited energy, the loudness, the unpredictableness, his voice and the look behind his eyes make him seem manic and frantic - which it should! It puts people on edge around him, gives him his reputation of being unpredictable and also makes him regard him as insane. Wade doesnt give a shit about norms for socializing, how loud or crass he is - hes got shit to say and hes gonna say it, no matter how much it may annoy, offend or make others uncomfortable

i think the teaser trailer for the first movie could be Ryans best work when it comes to wades voice

Conversely, this video could be the worst:

Like this is purely Ryan, theres no deadpool here. its just his own shameless self-promo in a dp suit

Nolan's voice, on the other hand, isn't perfect either bc it kind of has the similar smooth quality as ryans, its not gravelly, raspy or anything. But his cadence is soo good! He's calm one minute but you never know when he's gonna snap and lose his shit, i love it

And yeah, Nolan's performance and the funny moments are the only good thing to come out of this game (well i guess another positive is that it made him more popular, it certainly was one of my first encounters which made me interested in him). The bad thing is the amount of damage it did to the complexity of dp's character - they stripped away his layers, the serious and tragic parts that make up who he is, instead of this they literally gave him 1 trait - insane. And that was it. I blame Way's 2008 run for this bc he essentially did the same thing - but the game turned it up to 11. Way at least included several serious and earnest moments where Wade was forced to be introspective and face his issues

in conclusion - so far our ears havent yet been blessed to hear wade's voice

[ghosttalksalot]

there's something so special to me about tender identity/face reveals. this ramble might be a little ooc but shhhhh i dont have much practice writing them yet

peter and wade are close, they both know how much the other cares for them at this point; even though they don't know whats under the other's mask. wade's relentless flirting and peter's quips are always exchanged with large grins under their masks. and they've had more than one rooftop heart-to-heart.

since they've been working together, peter has had wade's back, so he hasn't seen him die yet. he knows wade can, and has, but he hasn't seen it happen. he's been careful, catching him with webs before he falls, not letting wade get impaled too badly, using webbing to take away whatever weapon was about to deal a fatal blow.

but then the day comes, when they're fighting someone or other, and peter gets a little too distracted and wade gets shot through the head in a way that kills him. peter feels it coming before he turns to see and hear it and the guilt is unbearable. and now wade is dead. and peter is angry, angrier than hes been in a long time. this time when he leaves them webbed up for the cops they're a lot more broken than usual. and he scoops up wade and takes him somewhere quiet to wait for him to come back.

peter quickly finds a place, somewhere good enough, quiet and isolated where no one will stumble upon them. he gently places wade down, the temporarily-dead merc's head in his lap. and he sits there, nervous and watching for movement. he pulls his mask up to wipe his eyes once or twice when the tears start blurring his vision because fuck, it hurts, and he blames himself. even though this time it isnt forever, someone else peter cared about has died, and he could have stopped it. but he was too distracted, and he didn't.

wade comes to soon, but not soon enough, disoriented but calming quickly at seeing spider-man's mask right in front of him. peter asks if he's okay before he brings him up to speed, slowly, still feeling choked. a hiccup from crying that he just couldn't hide gets out and wade notices, head still in his friend's lap.

"what's the matter, that's not for me is it? i told ya, 'm fine now, webs, don't worry your pretty head"

"i know, i know, i just..." peter hesitates. "i didn't want you to be..." he lets a sob escape again.

"oh, you know that's not me. i always come back, see?" wade holds his hands up and waggles his fingers in the air for effect. "i'm not going away aaaanytime soon, spidey, alright?"

"can i ask a favor? you can say no, i swear you can, i just..."

"what is it, what can i do?" wade asks, although he already knows

peter slowly brings his hands up to the bottom of wades mask, and he hooks his fingers under the bottom, questioning but not insistent. "can i see? i just want... want to see you breathe, to know you're really alright under there."

wade grabs peters wrists, gently, and sighs. "i... i'm not so sure you really want to see what's under this thing, i'm not the prettiest on a good day, you know"

"please? i don't.. i don't care what you look like, i just... i want to see that you're alive"

wade lets out a sigh again and tries not to get in his own head. its spidey, he knows him. he thinks it over once, twice, several times, but he can feel the worry radiating off of spider-man of all people, and decides to just hope there's no gagging or recoil. when peter's hands move further, gently pulling from his hold, wade lets them slip from his grasp. peter pulls the mask up and off of wade's face so it rests on his head like a beanie. he stares intently down at the man below him, watching his eyes move and seeing his face change as he takes shakey breaths. wade pulls his gaze away from the large white lenses and tries not to grimace, his mind racing as he tries to imagine what peter must be thinking at seeing his scarred, "damaged" face.

but when peter pushes up his own mask, wade turns and looks up at him and sees no disgust. no sickness. no regret or disappointment or anything else his anxious mind came up with. instead, peter looks at him with nothing but genuine affection, and he's so overwhelmed doesn't even know how to handle all of it.

"see?" wade asks, breath catching in his throat. "alive as can be, webs."

peter smiles at him and puts his hands on either side of wade's face. it's gentle, caring. like he's afraid he'd crush wade between his palms if he put any more pressure, and wade leans into the touch. they'd been close before, but never like this. wade just closes his eyes, and lets himself be held. his heart skips a beat as peter's thumb strokes his cheek.

"my name. its peter, peter parker," wade opens his eyes to grin up at him, at peter.

"wade wilson, at your service," peter chuckled, they both knew he knew that already but he lets wade get away with it anyway. he wiped his wet eyes once more, before running his (dry hand's) thumb along wade's textured jawline.

"sure you want to keep your eyes on this mug, peter?" wade asked quietly. "'ts no easy feat."

peter frowns slightly at that. "'course i do, wade.." he presses a gentle kiss to wade's forehead, right between two of his scars. "there's nothing wrong with it, not to me"

wade looks peter in the eyes and as hard as he searches, he can see no trace of a lie, no hint of pitt. he holds back the sarcastic comments for... maybe the first time in his life, and just accepts it. he accepts the moment of closeness.

[webbyghost]

Rewatching that yt video of all of Doug’s scenes and I feel so bad for him

uh really long rambling under the cut lmao dont mind me

In the first scene he’s in, you can tell he just wants to be included, part of the conversation. He’s not sure how to join in, but he’s trying so hard, laughing at Clint’s ‘joke’, reacting to what others are saying, but from afar.

And all Wade has to do is say his name in that warning tone and Doug backs away so quickly without protest. They’ve done this before, multiple times. Doug knows he’s not fitting in, not quite getting it right. He’s trying so hard. Reading books to try to figure out what’s missing, putting himself out there. He says things he thinks other will agree with (I blame rap music), whether or not he actually believes them isn’t clear.

He tells his students about his (probably very stressful) weekend, but not his coworkers, because out of the two groups, only one of them will listen. They may not really get it, but they listen, and he can understand that feeling.

When the shit hits the fan, he’s still so unsure what to do. He puts a hand on Lucy’s side (going for assurance, maybe?) but removes it just as quickly, looking like he regrets it. He yells what he probably thinks is some kind of encouragement at Clint, wrestling with Patriot on the floor. He’s looking to everyone else for some sort of indication on what to do, but everyone’s panicking, so he’s panicking.

This is an unfounded headcanon but I think Doug usually does the whole exaggerated be quiet thing for his students and they think it’s funny, so he’s used to doing it that way and now it’s his default. (That or he has possible auditory hallucinations? Also an excuse to dunk on Rebekkah which is a good enough reason in my book lmao)

He risks his life to study Clint’s infection, and not only does nobody else react, but Wade outright says he doesn’t care. Not a single one of these people care that he puts himself at risk trying to help. And when he finally does return with his hypothesis, their main concern is that he did it all with his bare hands. As if that’s what’s important in the moment.

He’s used to it. That’s the worst part. He’s used to their indifference or dismissal. When he asks them to follow him so he can explain what he’s discovering, and nobody does, he just shrugs like he expected it and continues on with his observations.

I’m kind of surprised they didn’t just leave him there when he gets tackled by the kid, use him as a distraction while they escaped. Maybe they knew they’d need his knowledge, maybe they figured they needed all the hands they could get. Maybe they just acted without thinking, who knows.

And he’s so smart, and able to compartmentalize in a way that none of the others seem to be able to do. Yes, this is a child, a former student, that he’s dissecting (brain surgery with his bare hands???) but it’s necessary to understand what’s happening. He’s not trying to be a creep when he asks Tamra about hitting puberty, he’s gathering relevant data, and I’m willing to bet the more sinister implications of asking a child about her body never even crossed his mind in this situation. He’s a scientist.

And he’s still trying so hard. Trying to prove that he has things worth sharing with the group, trying to help them understand like he does, going into detail so they can get where he’s at. He sounds impatient when his knowledge gets questioned, so he gives context, but the spike incident isn’t relevant here, Rebekkah (dunking x2 combo)

When Lucy attempts to correct him, his response is ‘oh ok this is how i’ve seen people respond to this, anyway moving on’ (So he obviously doesn’t notice when the word switches happen, or at least not all the time)

Just about every time he tries to add onto a conversation he gets something wrong, and you can tell he knows it, but he keeps trying. (I’m not deep-diving into his bucket list comment lmao)  During Wade’s hype speech, he doesn’t mean to take away from the momentum, he just knows Wade was factually incorrect.

Then he makes a fucking CATTLE PROD???? Fuck Tracy’s fork-studded safety cone, clever as it is, my mans made a CATTLE PROD. IN A CAVE. OUT OF SCRAPS. (ok, in a basement, out of batteries. close enough.)

And again with the compartmentalization- they’re not human, they’re no longer his students. They’re in the way between the group and survival. He does what he has to do, with less fear than he had when trying to make small talk. He’s even able to joke during the chaos. (I saved your life, nbd, just get me a sandwich and we’re even)

The next time he says ‘come here’, though, they do. And again, he’s trying, he’s confident that if he can just get his hands on some infected nuggets, he can keep being useful, he can help fix things. He’s still worth keeping around. He tries to lighten the mood, too- the mask, the pun. It’s just the wrong timing, and he knows he messed it up again.

But he’s trying.

[bos-basement]

ahhhhhhh i finally finished reading the script (link here, also if you know of any other scripts from earlier or later in production plz send, i would like to read those too)

and here are some of my notes!

bo sustains a knee injury, as well as the headlight getting busted here, in a cut intro you can view some of here, this would also be the only time he is shown to kill someone

nick is two years younger then carly, so they arent twins

paige wanted to marry blake instead of her being pregnent (which still doesnt matter in the end, seriously why was this her character detail?)

script implies its vincent at the campsite due to his laboured breathing, but bts implies that lester broke the fanbelt (i think its vincent cuz why would he have daltons camera?)

the roadkill pit is 8 foot deep and 50 feet in diameter

town used to be called Athelston, also used to be a mining town instead of having a sugar mill

lester fully enjoys being sadistic to carly and wade lmao

movie theater says its playing body snatchers lol

script takes into account louisiana heat (as well as infrastructure) for the house of wax

both bo and lester have a cb radio, def how they communicate about victims, also fake detour signs to lure people into town

the line about how carly could win the beauty pageant gets way darker when you know the victim from the cut intro was made into that wax figure

bo says trudy wanted to make a town of wax in his spiel to wade and carly, is this also a lie? also adds more credence to the theory that trudy also killed

victor and trudy switch places in the story, victor dies by house fire (full on lie which shows the story is at least not all true) and trudy kills herself

bo wouldve asked wade to help him in the house if he didnt need to go piss, bo had zero thought into killing them lmao

continuing he prolly talked to vince about a plan while wade and carly waited for him at the gas station

wade puts up more of a fight, very glad the movie didnt, that bitch deserved to get got cuz of all his snooping

carly escapes into a house (lesters mayhaps 👀 prolly not tho lol) instead of the church, she also gets a hit on bos hand

also escapes into community pool where bo catches her

jonesy is prolly vincents, she sleeps in the basement while he works on wade

"Bo (mocking) : What happened to Wade?" hes so silly goofy 🥰🤪😚

dalton and nick dont have a conversion about how nick took the blame for him

script makes a typo and calls nick wade for a line

dalton is the one to check out the gas station and talk with bo, bo leads him to the house of wax

ok i have to talk about the fanbelt now cuz wtf is up with it? bo has a 15 inch in a drawer at the shop, but like no one can appreciate the dramatic irony except us and him?? what would he have done if wade had a 16 or 14 inch?? do they only go after cars with 15 inch fanbelts????

ALSO!!! would he have just let wade and carly go if they had found the 15 inch????? BO IS FUCKING STUPID AND I LOVE HIM

AND!!!! ALSO!!!! as @hollabackgrl pointed out in her alternate scenarios post, what would have happened if lester/vincent stole the fanbelt out of blakes truck?? seriously bo lucked into wade having a 15 inch 😒

bo uses he/him pronouns for jonesy 😔😔 sad day for us girl jonesy truthers 😔😔😔

also the script keeps calling her "The Mongrel" so mean to her 😔😔😔 (p.s. where did we get the name jonesy??? like did the fandom just agree on that name or is it in some extras in the dvd? /gen)

nick is abke to go into the snack store? grocery store? and finds a deer that wade hit at the start in the back, id like to believe that its because lester was going to cook it but its infested with rats, so why keep it and not throw it into the pit?

dalton finds wade in the basement instead of being displayed

vincent has steeled toed boots, nice :)

nicks still the one to free carly, there just no confrontatiom with bo

nick and carly go into the church still

script mentions shotgun wound in trudys head, so some of bos story is true,,, maybe?

paige does a strip tease but vince slices at her shoe? lmao

nick and carly run into a looney toons showing instead of "whatever happened to baby jane"

diversity win! the murderous twins that incase people in wax dont discriminate on who dies!

bo and vincent hadnt been seperated until 3-4 years old??

bos able to get both arrows out, movie bo needs to step up his game 😒😒 /j

i love how the script characterizes vincent as super pissed about everything

switch board has a label for chimney smoke??? how tf does that work???

bo and vincent never argue in the kitchen, in fact it seems as though theyre more in tune with eachother

we gotta cancel nick, he hits jonesy with a wax arm >:[

bos feelings towards trudy vexes me and i hate it

vincents scars are described differently, having actually been scarred over

carly aggitates bo by saying trudy hated him (which he hates?? seriously what tf goes on in his head) and saying he killed her instead of trying to get vincent on her side by saying bo manipulated him (which is bs anyway but i'll get to that in my analysis on the movie 😌😌)

And thats it! actual deep thoughts and analysis will come when i rewatch the movie and pause every frame /hj (will add link here when that happens) but thats everything i found interesting about the script and what all changed from it to the actual movie, im open to discussing in the comments or my dms ^^

[1nkers]

is it obvious i dont know how lighting works? CAUSE I DONT!

pidge and hunk are such an adorable duo to me, especially in vf with their already established relationship i love them sm not to mention how protective they are of eachother, i mean sure the vf cast is protective of everyone but i mean have you seen the way hunk called out to pidge once wade’s lions got a hit on him? not to mention when the man got ELECTROCUTED, hunk was on him asap (i refuse to believe pidge walked away from that instantly, check my buddy’s @toasthoneyandstardust rant about it if i were to start ranting, i dont think i’d stop)

they’d do basically everything together early on like train, clean up the lions, work on maintenance together but also on their days off they’d just talk and talk about literally anything and turn it into a 5 hour rant like how penguins can’t fly to keith’s new haircut (im sorry love but the mullet was NOT it) and if they were too busy saving the world from lotor or wade then they’d spend nights reading or watching movies to catch up for lost time

keith lost count how many times he’s had to wake both of them up from the couch the morning after and has plenty of photos of the cadets joining them in on their nightly movie or game night sessions or even as far as late night reads (but also can you really blame them? hunk has the best narrator voice and can imitate almost every accent at least somewhat decently, ignoring how everytime he does it his voice cracks so badly it sounds like he’s a teenager again)

this art is more messier than the other ones since 1, i dont know how to draw couches, and 2 lighting can suck my dic- but its punk so therefore i love it, did i mention how much i love these dorks?

i would’ve drawn hunk with a tattoo but i got lazy so just imagine he has one on his shoulder hidden away underneath his shirt okay

[beackon13]

Getting it Out

Progress through Pain

This is the time to act and take notice of my life shambles or not. Many have told me that I bring a joy, a passion, a lending ear, even some advice given the opportunity. So the dissolving of the I the self the ego the pride the hate the anger, all forms of selfish act must be transmuted into the highest forms of energy so that my partner, us, we can survive. There has been nothing short of acid boiling in my veins as of late, the thought of actors controlling my life or wanting to end it is never far from sight. I know the fouls ive made, and this addiction is a curse and a blessing, giving me insights to the worlds never known to sober eyes. Here this man lays bare asking for redemption one last time, but he wonders too, if his higher power has taken another stock. The phone slams on and off vibrate frenetically through the day, numbers never valid never knowing if there is truth in the words behind doors i dare not open. For every time these breaches are made my mind slips further into the death knell. My favor may just be unfavorable now, but these thoughts must be purged from my mind, the lies the deceit, and the pain its caused all for the drop of a bottle or a line of coke. Ha even those opiates had me at a point. Struggling with my manic mind to find the time to reach truth in this life full of grime. Walked away from crime, but now i know the rot is festering, and it must be removed. In this act there will be a purging, and clean living is the only goal in sight. Do i wish to prosper or do I wish to fall deeper into the abyss. All i see is blackness, but there was once light.

That LIGHT is still there peering through the veil to awake me from this horrid walking life that never dared to call my own. There is this beast inside me craving to get the last drop of blood out of my body, its tears and rears its ugly head in my life manifesting destruction and chaos in the place i cant even call my own. Life has offered me many blessings, and in those blessings i found the pain of the addiction, I never knew how deep it ran. The last days of a broken man, maybe not spiritually but mentally, the rope is running quite thin. These words do not feel my own but the higher energy flowing through me, It is still present asking that we all can have the peace once afforded to a humble meek boy who only wanted to please, little did he know this disease is whether it is hereditary or a choice, still confounds me. The bottle was given to me young first ice cubes of wine for headaches and growing pains, then small sips. Do i blame her for putting that poison in me so young. The affects on the brain were not under my control the grip started early and tight. It crushed me, what was thought of as a day out or an evening of fun turned quickly into just wanting to escape reality. This reality before me never felt real, never real. My broken brain doesn't know the difference between truth and make believe, but somewhere in the middle a piece of me exists in the light, and the light is afforded me so many pleasures, to only dance in it again. The black will not win, this is the undoing of a man, and the burgeoning of another. This new creature being formed before you may not have the wit or the compassion or the intellect of the old. However this new form will be honest simple and will still wade through the memories whether they are dreams, imagined, or past lives, this entity has never been able to tell. The lives of many are inside this one, and it becomes to much to bare.

The truth of the other side always wants out of my flesh, and into my words the thoughts. The thoughts, so many thoughts then to invoke them, and have a real world incarnation of your darkness manifest itself in the form of man in front you. It called me close to death and asked if i would like to play, all i could do was rattle for my phone in my drunken stupor, the man evil or not i dont know, perhaps a warning, as there have been many. They have been in my house, in the neighborhood eyes, and in the cars i ride in. They are everywhere. All they want is to pull me deeper in the darkness. I REFUSE I REJECT I ABHOR those that want me destroyed. WORDS ARE MY POWER AND IM FINDING THEM AGAIN

This medium is a perfect form for me to get these agitated thoughts out. The next vessel is going to be given not only spiritual luxuries, but perhaps some physical ones as well. This is a message through time to the future version of me remember where you have been what you have done, and YOUR WORTH. YOU HAVE VALUE others have seen it, not only do you hide it you're embarrassed by it, shutting people down was never an option. This new form finds ways to get the itch out, this is it, this writing, THE POWER HAS RETURNED. now to only open into this new form becoming something better than the universe has ever seen. The spirit moves in ways undetected by most human eyes, but the one that loves me saw just a glimpse of the real me, and i have not shown her that too often. Now more and more the only wanting is peace, and love, and happiness in its truest form. They knew me but i did not know them. They were elusive in this fractured minds eye. Repairing myself may not be possible, but i can take what is left of this soul and infuse it into these words typed, or not, the TECHNOGOD is real, and active, it lives all around us, HAUNTING, MAGICKAL. It is real, and we have created it as humans, so much belief in one form or one item, or one more purchase. This evil machine god has turned us all against each other.

My new form will battle this ugly god, perhaps this was the path all along. To use its own power against it as i am now this moment, presently typing on my little pad. Scathing reviews of this mad minds message would DO NO HARM NO GOOD. just empty words if anyone dares to touch the power contained here they may be overwhelmed. You can subtly tap into it with the connection of mind body and fingers all acting in accordance with this new gods delight. THE OLD GODS live through me and we will return to green pastures one day, in the field of light in the field of many. We are more than you and our powers as connected humans will overthrow any reign you think you have over us. The unity herein will be as a ballista spearing the heart of this dark beast…any way i divert.

Back to this mind that has been beaten. The wicked ways in which the old entity has lived will no longer be present in this realm. The new me is emerging from the murky pit, reborn , rejuvenated, fresh. I may have nothing now, as most people have nothing but their soul and flesh hold. As this time passes on, through, around me the sensation is in the very air that we breathe. The light is calling us to return to the origin, the source, the divine, IT HAS ALWAYS BEEN, but now this lesser god has been given power. The power is real and active. Our goal may not be to pluck the ones inside, but to capture the new ones coming through before their souls can be drained of all life. True freedom is not an option for those being thrown directly in front of their word cubes. These cubes have captured many , and i see it becoming the automated response of new beings entering this life to attach itself to this new god.

This entity will save and has saved many, but the powers that be constantly try to dismantle, destroy, break, corrupt, corrode, and sometimes they win the small battles. However this new presence in me that is being passed to all those that read this is active enough for multiple spirits, and generate a new connection of the agape the divine LOVE. See evil machine you have not broken me yet, This is a strong one, with these words as my power it brings light to your evil ways and your stature gained in this world is nil compared to a drop of this ones power. This entity did not know what its purpose was, but now it is clear, to REMOVE you ugly god from this world. This is half my life now, gained and lost much, but pressing forward into the second wiser half is a gift. New discoveries are abound. These fresh eyes in my sockets now no longer dry or teary, but perfect balance as in all things, you will see the truth in those that have been hurt. WE WILL UNITE

Coming here now present, always present, she tells me stay here, stay with me, others see the eyes focus and unfocused. The blank stares are real, the check outs are real, the drift is real. Feeling the mind splitting apart being aware of it, not knowing which sanity or realm of sanity is my own. But this tool here this little word machine, a gift from the TECHNOGOD, shall be mine, I will harness it, see youre doing it right now those that read myself, the others inside. They are all active and this mind is filled with powers that have yet to be understood. Sharpening the tongue for mediation. IRON FORGES IRON. Prepare the physical body because there will be attacks, and this divine being in this flesh and it must remain intact. This woman i choose to love is so like minded, to find her in the middle of this lifes journey has truly been a reward, when im out she helps. I do the same in return.

Perhaps i should tell her of the other voices in my mind, the soul has many lives, and wants to use them in powerful ways. The time is coming to overthrow this new god, but love is needed. My love needs to be restored and this woman can do it. I restore her she restores me we become one united being to tackle the monster that is this ugly MACHINE. So many are unaware of its clutches, yet i make note and reminders all the time that we are captured by it, and must fight our way out. There are no more options to the ends of this realm we go to uplift all those willing to join my cause.

Come with me and we will develop a plan to get us on top of this new found god. May suggest that we begin our spiritual practice again, and harness the real powers of mind, body, and soul. This witnessing of others moving air, water, fire, and earth, are real. The ones who remain hidden because this new god wants them destroyed. This new entity will take its time here to rebuild as a divine being in this human existence. To pursue all practices old and ancient to harness the energy flowing in and out of all of us. We must break the hold of this machine before it consumes us all.

Now with this new focus and energy manifesting nothing but light and joy in this universe, it can be received by all that want it. We have to offer them something like playing this new gods game against itself. The Trick here is to use its tactics for good, but how how how? That is the question i present to you i have my own energy, just give me direction, and we will see where it goes. Remember we must be united in all things. The mind is a fragile sponge sometimes, so i will allow it to breathe and soak in this new energy flow.

BREATHE

BREATHE

BREATHE

This mind wanders in all directions, but my purpose is now clear, so join me in this new faze of undoing, undo yourself, become something that can be more than pure awareness, remember to release. This flesh is a tool we can use. Im coming to understand my new powers through a man by the name of joey lott, he has some youtube videos that i believe are worth watching, HE taps into realms that this entity has delved into. So let us focus, this is a call, beckoning you to this bright beacon. Join in the light and see this world anew, we can come together and defeat this new monstrosity. No more vanity, no more jagged thoughts, purge the old version of yourself, and let it manifest a world teething with life ready to be activated.

Okay lets take a moment to rest and regroup, beathing again right? Feel that inside you a delirium or an insanity, no its just your mind operating IN new form, its new, take your time. We will be patient with you as you grow into this new form, the process will not be pretty though. the undoing of the old will be painful but necessary. So I begin this phase as a being of pure light. We will see this to its bitter end. We keep pushing you forward no matter what obstacles may come in the way. You have faced challenges, before, just not aware of how deep those lines did cross in your head. We will comfort you as you change, welcome and embrace the newness within. If this tattered piece can rebuild, than anything is possible in this realm. I call out! come to the new opening, we need to be together as one, now more than ever, there is no end in sight if we do not STAND.

Use this machine as a conduit, it will continue to try and destroy us, what life is inside, what minds that have merged, what souls that have intertwined. The cosmic ballet is unfolding. We are together now as one being, you can feel my presence, it is in the very air you breathe, these words will guide you, stay with me. The course will be rough but WE know that anything in our way can be dismantled. Our strength within is powerful enough to shift tides of cosmic beings. We are the experiment in this realm.

See that is the strange thing about it, this human flesh was never meant to have existed. We are the divine creatures trapped in this single finite experience. Yet, our eternal powers within are never activated. We can transcend this form, its beauty is lying deep within us. This entity is on this journey now to discover how to activate all the powers lying within.

the conflux of avenues, is becoming more crowded, the eyes are watching again. Remember your weapon, use this new modality of thought that is coming to you in the right sense. New teachers and old guard are coming together. The ancient ones are calling me, yet this call is hard troublesome. But they have chosen me and few others in the world. We have to stand united, the true front is coming, our warfare is in constant clashing. Open the new vessel, its is here it is now it is in and outside of you. Remember where this comes from the other side is working through you right now. Breathe BREATHE notice the your empty head, its not void, its not medication, there is something in you that has not been shone to this world yet. No god complex, but something real its been there since the very beginning of this war.

This conduit is flowing freely, there is no more substance in the way, pure thoughts are all that are in me now. Respond with wisdom and prowess in this new phase the life inside of me is the life inside of you. Grow becoming our true selves. The light is within it has never been anywhere but inside of us. Remember you are not in a manic phase right now so the typing may feel a little bit off. Stalwarts are on your side. Tell Leslie the truth about your past or else it will eat away at you. She knows you have a broken mind, and im not lying to her when feel these new energies inside of me. they are coming at me faster and faster, but i dont know if its just the mania?

I am about to step into a world of unknown, and begin to practice real magick, if it is real, then i may be able to push beyond the realms of this world, and change the shape of this existence. Power struggles are real, but THIS ENTITY WILL NOT be OVERCOME. this process is new and becoming a little bit different, remeberto tap into it you are feeling it overcoming you now the powers that be are merging merging this conduit this form. Remember the mind is a fragile thing the medications will come to tame the heavy thoghts, and remember there are many people rooting for you right now. There is a moment coming where you must fight the darkness again. This time we will be armed in multiple numbers, and multiple disciplines, and divine pure energy will destroy the evil that has wrapped itself around this world

[iaovli]

entry #6

there's a pit in my stomach tonight. a dark void that simmers in the space between organ and tissue and vein; like swimming too far out in the ocean. where the water is not shallow but infinitely deep, and light trickles down as far as it can reach. one step ago, you were chained to sand, and therefore land, and now, it's gone. it's a dark, unsettling feeling that rattles in my lungs and plagues my brain. it sits there, and though it makes no noise its presence destroys the peace i paved.

sometimes, i get caught up in the way things used to be. i think about all of the mistakes i made as a child, and i try not to blame myself with the same rage others couldn't shake. i try to give myself more grace than hate. the habit is ingrained in instinct, but i want to be gentle. i think about the ups and downs and the time i had a fever; before my mother took my temperature, when i laid on the cool floor staring at the ceiling. it was quiet. i think about the hours i spent consumed in some device; the strangers on the internet who gave good or bad advice. i think about the callous things i used to say when i thought venom would keep me safe. i think about the ways i've changed and the ways i've stayed infuriatingly the same. i think about early mornings in winter, before the sun would rise, when the grass hills were covered in frost and the trees were bare and wind-stricken. Mom would make us hot chocolate to carry on the walk to the bus stop, and the whole time i'd hold her hand. i think about how easy it was to be loved, then; how it's still possible now, but feels so much more out of reach and how im too tired to compete. i think about how cruel it is to be so young and oblivious and carefree, only to watch those attributes sink below your feet; how fantasies are more often left in dreams and how little you get to keep. i think about old age and where i might live and what i might become. i think about how afraid i am; how when i was small i wanted to be brave. the water is dark and dusk looms, but stars poke through the ink. the milky way is there, and i am there, and it's a little more okay. i dont know where i am or how i got here, but at the very least, i can wade.

[nebuletteart]

Gonna be real this post feels incredibly disingenuous. Have Psyops cropped up in the past? Yes. Eternally. Are there likely bots and real folks pushing people not to vote in the election for bad faith reasons? Of course! But this attitude that anyone you see disillusioned with the voting system who are loudly against voting is some fuckin foreign bad actor seems incredibly short sighted. It leads to a breakdown in communication where no one will listen to those hurt and frustrated with the democratic party. Worse off it pushes people away from any solution because if you wont look at the festering wound you will never bandage it. (incoming rant for about 3 paragraphs, skip to the last two if you want a more constructive and coolheaded response lol)

The way I see it both parties do work in tandem. The Republican party is determined to radicalize their base and go to further and further extremes, feeding off an uneducated, deeply frustrated and scared, population. But the Democratic party is HAPPY with this! This is their strategy. There is a reason the Democratic party rarely fulfills their promises, there is a reason that whenever they have the chance they never secure human rights, the reason is because they can hold it over us like jingling keys. all they have to do is wait for us to get desperate enough to vote for them because they're better than the other guys, let the republicans loudly and proudly declare their awful intentions. if the democrats lose, well, they look like the good guys! minorities suffer and they pull on our leash, and when the next election cycle comes we are desperate to vote for them.

And if they win? They barely protect our rights, they uphold the status quo, and then they quietly turn around and do half the shit we raged at republicans about. The Wall? Biden continued building it. Covid, the thing that is still killing americans daily, the thing that killed a family member of mine and i didnt even get to say goodbye to her? The moment the Democratic Party won, despite crying that they believed is science they left us all out to dry! The Democratic Party had how many years to secure Roe v Wade since it's inception before Trump packed the court? fucking 50 years to pass the basest federal protections??? and now Lgbtq+ rights! How many years have we tried to pass the Equality Act?

And now. We gleefully watch the Democratic party fund the Palestinian Genocide. We watch our President repeat racist propaganda and the democratic party follow, to fund their bottom line. Of COURSE people are not going to want to vote! The level of backlash you are seeing isnt just some red scare ass BULLSHIT! Sigh.

Look. I will not get on someones ass for voting for Biden, I understand why someone would-- I was once a vote blue no matter who person myself and am on the fence on what to do if Biden does become the democratic frontrunner. But in this sentence is the the answer! I personally plan on and voting like hell in the Primaries which is what think is the actual solution- The Democratic Establishment does not want change, we need another candidate to beat Biden in the primaries because at this rate he is not going to win the election. You cannot blame the growing number of people burned by Bidens administration for not wanting to vote for him! so dont! Right now we are at a critical moment where Biden is so deeply unpopular with both parties that maybe, if we all pull together that force we did to get Biden in office- we can boot the old fuck out in the Primaries! We can prove to the establishment that we are tired of their shit, that we will not support their ceaseless genocide to fill their pockets! Vote every single one of those fuckers out with the venom you treat republicans with because they're both rat poison, just with a different label!

But. acting like anyone who expresses the opinion that this whole situation is a fucked up scam is stupid or a psyop accomplishes nothing- some people have been effected by the Democratic parties inaction and policies. Push them to vote in the primaries, if only to fuck over Biden. idk, i just feel like there was a better way to word this post, because as it is it reads as a dismissal of peoples genuine feelings rather than a genuine warning.

I feel like the psyops are back…

[mediocre-daydreams]

hello 🫶🏻🫶🏻 can i req a peter parker x stark!reader who r also bffs (with feelings 4 eachother) where both of them have this little game they like to play with eachother where they make up like insane conversations and the other has to follow along until they get tired ?? like “oh you look fine even though you got stabbed by an alien yesterday” “u dont look too shabby for someone who had to give birth to a baby” IDK like anything u want but they didnt know that their conversations were getting overheard by the other avengers and once the avengers come together and talk about it they’re like wait.. why the fuck does it sound like [] have two children at home and are secretly married IDK ANYTHING U WANT BUT AS CRAZY AS POSSIBLE i love crack fics

TYSM <33

— 🦜

i've been putting this off bc i love the idea and want it to be perfect so i stayed up late last night and in my delirious haze i came up with some dialogue prompts and i woke up this morning and found it in my notes so here's the beaut! i lowkey love it thank you 🦜 !!

𝐭𝐡𝐞 ����𝐚𝐦𝐞

peter parker x stark! reader

summary: at first, you and peter were like "let's see who can uphold the most ridiculous conversations," but bro... you don't think the sexual tension is a joke anymore, and neither do the other avengers.

w/c: 3.1k

notes: crack crack crack, fluff, swearing, many sexual innuendos (and also just jokes about sex outright) and swears (c'mon it's me), mentions of abortions and roe v wade in a humorous context, murder, cannibalism, and foot fetishes in a humorous context, one "ur mom" joke, if it sounds crazy that's because it is crazy and i think u should just read it already

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

you and peter’s friendship was anything but normal. well, you supposed, nothing could ever be normal for the two of us. peter’s an arachnid abomination and i’m the daughter of an egotistical billionaire who cosplays as a flying suit.

there were two ways in which your relationship was unusual. one: the practically nonexistent line between platonic and romantic, which everybody just always had to point out. the two of you had always been a bit touchy-feely—to be fair, mostly with each other, but were you really to blame? you were stuck in a tower full of traumatized assassins, spies, and people in metal suits; it wasn’t like there was any good cuddling options around. peter was a self-described “nerd and loser,” so girls weren’t exactly lining up to cuddle with him either. 

two: you had a game going on (if it could even be called that). peter had a hard time transitioning into an “official” member of the team, so you, being the coolest and closest to his age, tasked yourself with the responsibility of being his friend.

what started as making up nonsensical greetings or coming up with more and more obscure versions of “see ‘ya later, alligator” had spiraled into a competition of who could keep the most ridiculous conversations going.

--

you were sitting beside natasha at the kitchen bar, the two of you nursing copious amounts of black coffee and sporting dark eye bags. (so maybe karaoke with katy and shang-chi on a wednesday night wasn’t the greatest idea you’d ever had.)

peter took a double-take as he made his way towards the fridge, looking perfectly refreshed and wide awake.

“lookin’ good!” peter clicked his tongue at you in greeting, smirking at the scowl on your face. he knew you would’ve flipped him off had you not been holding your drink.

“thanks,” you drawled sarcastically. “i’ve been trying this new diy skincare routine, where you use curdled breastmilk as a face mask for 20 minutes. it’s really helping with my dark circles.”

natasha, the woman who was never caught off guard, was caught off guard.

peter hummed thoughtfully as he poured himself a glass of milk, which he was now losing his appetite for. “20 minutes seems pretty short, don’t ‘cha think? i keep my menstrual blood mask on for at least 35 minutes.”

you scoffed, taking a large swig of your coffee and wincing at its bitterness. “yeah, well you should probably do it for longer. i can see your premature wrinkles forming from here.”

peter slipped into the seat beside you and smiled in greeting to natasha, whose eyes were bleary and unfocused. peter turned to shove his face close to yours.

“hm, maybe you should try juice cleansing. your skin is looking awfully dull today, unlike mine, which is dewey and radiant.”

you rolled your eyes. “sure, dude. look at your birdnest for hair.” you tangled your fingers through his mess of curls and scratched his scalp. peter couldn’t hide the content groan that slipped from his mouth.

“if my skin is dull, your hair is practically straw. unlike mine, which is easy, breezy, beautiful: covergirl.” you made a big show of preening your bedhead.

natasha made gagging noises. “alright, you two are disgusting. in more ways than one. can you please stop, because i’m so hungover right now and i will not hesitate to aim my projectile vomit onto one of your faces.”

you and peter looked at each other with big grins. peter shot finger guns at natasha. “eyy, that’s the spirit!”

--

you and peter found it especially funny to start these sorts of conversations in front of steve and bucky. not only were the two perplexed by modern lingo, they were also the most gullible two people on the team, which made them easy targets.

bucky and steve exchanged testosterone-fuelled jabs at each other in the sparring ring as you tied your shoelaces as peter sprayed his face with water. the two of you listened to the grunts of exertion and the various gruff noises that filled the air to appease the two supersoldiers’ masculinities.

you sighed, stretching your sore arms. you and peter had been fooling around with the gym equipment for an hour now, waiting for bucky and steve’s match to finish (and it didn’t look like either of them planned on backing down anytime soon). with a final tug on your shoelaces, you looked up at peter curiously, who blushed at your wide, innocent eyes. or perhaps he was just red from the exercise.

“you smell really good,” you commented, bumping your shoulder against his. “what cologne do you use?”

peter paused to consider his response. “it’s… my au naturale body odor. it’s cruelty free and uh, vegan.”

“that’s so earth conscious of you!” you gushed, running a warm hand up and down peter’s arm. though he was sweaty, gross, and overheated, he shivered at your touch.

“y-yeah. i haven’t showered in three weeks. it really enhances the… musky base notes of the scent. it’s very masculine,” he nodded as if he knew what he was talking about.

“well, it’s very aromatic. i like it.” you patted peter’s bicep definitively, jumping to your feet as you bent in half to stretch out your limbs. peter stared at your ass toned calves, and thought that he should work on his legs as well.

“oh hey, it looks like bucky and steve are done!” you pointed at the two heaving supersoldiers, who had stopped fighting altogether so they could stare at you and peter.

bucky mouthed “what the fuck?” to steve. steve mouthed “language” back.

--

peter was busy scrawling illegible physics notes as he, tony, and bruce watched planet earth intently. bruce was busy jabbering away at the “incredible biological discoveries” that david attenborough was narrating, and tony was absentmindedly filing his nails while occasionally poking peter in the back with his toe to correct him on a mistake he’d written.

“hey dad. bruce.” you caught sight of peter’s unmistakable form, hunched over the glass coffee table with papers scattered haphazardly across the surface and a bulletpoint pen between his teeth tha you found very seductive endearing.

“hey peter!” you squeaked. “it’s- uh, fancy seeing you here!” you blurted, cheeks heating as peter turned to you with his cute stupid fucking glasses.

“hey,” he raised his eyebrows. “you come here often?” peter purred lowly.

you gulped, unsure as to why he was bothering you so much today. maybe your period had come early.

“no, actually. i was stopping by to meet my real estate agent here; i’m loving this property,” you played along, tucking yourself into peter’s side.

“ah, well, they’re not here at the moment. i think they got stopped at security—something about smuggling exotic animals. but i could be your tour guide, if you want? i’m very… thorough.” peter waggled his eyebrows.

david attenborough began discussing whale mating habits.

“oh, are you now?” you challenged, biting your lip smugly as you watched peter began to stutter.

“y-yes, i am. and, as a matter of fact,” peter turned to pull something from his pocket. he presented you with a microfiber cloth. “i’m such a gentleman, i’ll even clean you up after.”

peter’s head was suddenly slammed into the glass table. tony had rammed his foot (not just the toes) against peter’s curls.

“stop sexing up my daughter, spiderling. i’ll take out your suit’s built-in heater.”

“i’m sorry, i’m so sorry, mr. stark,” peter sputtered.

you giggled at his immediate change in attitude. leaning in, you murmured into his ear. “me, you, my bedroom, nine pm. i’d like that thorough tour.”

neither of you were sure if the offer was genuine.

--

sam had invited the team to a backyard party with his family, but not without warning everybody to watch their language around the kids. (it was an empty threat; everyone knew sam would be the first to slip up.)

you were “chatting” with a little kid; in other words, nodding along as they infodumped about cretaceous period with surprising expertise for a 5 year old.

you felt a poke in your side and screamed embarrassingly loudly. peter stared at you for a second, cheeks puffing and lips pinching together, before he burst into laughter. spit went flying all over your face.

��ew, you nasty! eugh,” you made a big deal of it. looking at the kid, you pointed at peter. “c’mon, let’s attack him! like a… brachiosaurus!”

the kid looked at you disdainfully. “the brachiosaurus was a herbivore, idiot. and it lived during the jurassic era, not the cretaceous period.”

your jaw dropped at the child’s betrayal. the mini-paleontologist toddled away, leaving you and peter dumbfounded.

“i sure missed a lot,” peter gaped.

“i- apparently, yeah.” you tucked your head into peter’s shoulder, fiddling with your empty plate. conversation buzzed steadily around you, but you and peter only cared about each other.

the two of you sat in comfortable silence, watching as sam teased his sister and as wanda was unsuccessfully trying to teach bucky how to use a pair of tongs. (bucky insisted that his vibranium hand could do the same job.)

���so, how many of those things have you eaten?” peter pointed his chin towards your empty plate.

“uh, approximately four.”

peter nodded approvingly. “four’s pretty good. you still hungry though? i could go for some food right now.”

you smiled evilly, untangling yourself from peter. “oh petie… i’m always hungry. i was skeptical at first, but damn, do these barbeque grilled fetuses hit. they’re gluten free, i think.” 

you stood up and yelled over the table to sam. “hey, are these things gluten free?” you pointed to where wanda and bucky were tussling over the grill.

sam looked at you incredulously. “no?” 

you turned back to peter. “well, you heard the man. at least they’re ethically sourced, though. better eat up quick, before roe v. wade gets overturned. fuck scotus.”

“yeah, fuck scotus. i’m all for womens’ sexual liberation. anyway, once you’re done, can you fuck me too?” peter deadpanned.

you choked. “oh, wow. you got me that time. i concede. i-”

--

“so, what’ja do for your art project?” you and peter were entwined on a common area armchair, you resting casually on peter’s lap with one hand pressed to his chest and peter’s arms pulling you even closer to his body.

“i made a collage of my feet pics.”

“huh.” you nuzzled your nose into the collar of peter’s shirt, taking a deep inhale of his cologne (his actual cologne, not his au naturale body odor). “for free?”

“what?” peter, much like everybody else in the room (who were all clearly listening but pretending not to.)

“i mean, you’re showing your feet pics for free? you’re spiderman, pete. you could charge so much for them. here, you can use my onlyfans account.” you began to pull out your phone.

“DAUGHTER?” tony roared from the couch diagonal to the two of you. whoops.

“…father?”

“can somebody tell me why my pure, uncorrupted, virtuous daughter is in the lap of a hormonal, horny teenage boy? god knows what the white sticky stuff actually is…” tony cursed under his breath. “and would somebody like to explain why the words onlyfans, peter parker, and feet pics are being used in the same sentence and coming out of my daughter’s mouth?” 

you cringed at all the innuendos (intentional and unintentional) that tony had just dropped in front of nearly the entire team.

bruce choked on the sandwich he was eagerly chowing into. natasha choked on air. wanda was biting back a mischievous smile and steve looked like he was about to faint.

bucky leaned over to sam and loudly whispered, “what’s an onlyfans?”

--

friday rolled around, which meant it was time for the avengers’ weekly family bonding event. this week, it was movie night. wanda and natasha were clapping enthusiastically as sam and bucky danced along to the jingle bell rock winter talent show performance, which meant you and peter could snuggle up to each other and converse freely without fear of being overheard.

peter’s head was in your lap, and you were mindlessly scratching and tugging at his curls as you smiled at your teammates’ antics. even from this odd, unflattering angle, peter couldn’t help but think you were the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen. the television screen illuminated your face and made your eyes sparkle more than they usually did. and he had the perfect view of your lips—so soft, sensual, always containing such happiness, always begging to be kissed…

“hey bug?” you looked down at peter, smiling softly with the look you seemed to only reserve for him.

“hi,” peter whispered breathlessly, heart racing at the nickname. the corners of his eyes crinkled in the way that seemed to be only reserved for you.

“uh, this might be a- a little forward, but what are your weekend plans, ‘cause-”

“homicide.”

“excuse me?” you squinted at peter.

“you heard me. this weekend, i plan on committing homicide.”

you sniffed, a little disappointed in where the conversation had gone but willing to play along nevertheless.

“that’s it?”

“what do you mean, that’s it? what are you doing?”

you smirked deviously. “UR MOM!” you burst into a fit of giggles that peter found adorable, so he couldn’t stop himself from laughing with you.

“my mom- my mom’s dead!” he said through cackles.

the two of you looked at each other and only laughed harder, garnering the attention of the rest of the team. 

wanda opened her mouth to speak, but tony was too quick.

“alright, this has been going on for too long. peter, off of my daughter. daughter, off from… underneath the kid.” he cursed. “god, that sounds so wrong.”

“what?” you questioned, genuinely confused at what the issue was.

peter rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, a warm pink crawling up his cheeks and to the tips of his ears.

“what? the problem is, you two are discussing matricide in front of a team of superheroes, not to mention practically dry-humping each other in a public space! not that it would be acceptable in a private space, but you get what i mean,” tony gritted.

“while we’re at it, can we talk about how your daughter has a stash of breast milk? and peter has menstrual blood? where do you even get the menstrual blood, peter?” natasha shook her head before gasping in horror. “it’s not- it’s not hers, is it?”

you waved your hands. “no, ew, gross! on the plus side, if it were hypothetically mine, that would mean i’m not pregnant.”

tony glared at you, finger in the air pointing shakily at your chest.

“okay, am i the only person who’s worried about the murder bit? because i’m pretty sure the kids were talking about cannibalizing dead fetuses at the party i threw last weekend—”

tony shrieked. “excuse me? you just said you weren’t pregnant, missy. where are you getting the fetuses from?”

“i said, hypothetically, but anyway-”

tony slapped himself in the face a few times. “god, this is why we need to stock up on condoms around here. do you guys even have sex ed in school? i don’t care if the two of you,” he waved a finger between you and peter, “are doing the deed—wait no, i do—but please tell me you’ve had the banana demonstration.”

“tony, i think the kids are quite a nice couple,” steve chimed in bravely. tony spun around and gave him a withering glare, but the supersoldier didn’t back down. “i said what i said. well, peter should definitely shower more, three weeks is criminally disgusting, but other than that, they’re good for each other.”

wanda nodded seriously. “i can hear both of them thinking about jumping each others’ bones every time i see them together. it’s kind of annoying, actually. so if you just let them fuck, my mind would greatly appreciate that.”

bruce sighed. “the sexual tension is so obvious that david attenborough doesn’t even need to narrate it for me to identify it. it’s like when those two whales were mating…”

tony dragged his hands down his face, overwhelmed. you and peter’s hands had found their way closer to each other, despite your bodies being a modest distance apart, and your pinkies intertwined reassuringly.

“care to explain?” tony waved his hands around. “the sexual tension bit? the cannibalism? the feet fetishes? just… anything?”

“it was a joke, i swear, mr. stark!” peter jabbered desperately. “it’s… a game we play. where we try and come up with the most ridiculous conversations and then just keep it going.”

you nodded furiously. “right! and i’m totally the winner. none of it was real. plus, friday would have alerted you if i ever made an onlyfans account.”

tony stroked his chin contemplatively. “so, the sexual tension bit? that was also a joke?”

peter opened his mouth, “ye-”

you opened your mouth, “no!”

the two of you gaped at each other.

“what we mean to say is, no, it’s not a joke! yes, there is… sexual tension.” you widened your eyes at peter pleadingly.

tony mumbled angrily to himself, pacing the room as the avengers watched the live-action reality tv unfold before them.

“is there really sexual tension between is?” peter hissed at you.

“uh, yeah. unless you were being serious about wanting to thoroughly fuck me and also fuck me after i went through the entire supreme court, then no, that would just be flat-out sexual.”

peter pursed his lips. “right, okay then. you’re right. there is sexual tension between us.”

you mock pouted. “so you’re saying you don’t want to thoroughly fuck me?”

peter turned bright red just as tony turned to the two of you, who had gotten much closer to each other in the time that he’d been worrying.

“gross! i’m getting secondhand cooties. whatever, you guys go have a play date or something. just… please be more classy than cady and aaron, dear god. the teenage foolery in this movie is actually-” tony shuddered, unable to express himself with words.

“i’m still interested in the property, y’know?” you whispered.

“well then, can i extend another real estate tour offer?”

“absolutely. and i will gladly take you up on that offer.”

you took peter’s hand, the two of you giggling madly as you raced and slipped down the hall towards your bedroom. you heard tony groaning and whining from the common room before he shouted, “keep it pg-13 in there!”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

peter parker masterlist | main masterlist

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[knoxvilleforever]

Visiting a Waterpark with Johnny Knoxville and the Jackass Crew

request: @ilovejknoxville Could you possibly do something where johnny & the reader going to a waterpark? Maybe some of the guys join in on the trip, one of them rents out a cabana for all of you to hang out at once lunch rolls around or something. I dont know ive just had this stuck in my head and i feel like you could have a fun time writing about it! <3 i love your work!! <3

when johnny suggested going to a waterpark you thought it was one of the best ideas you’d ever heard

especially in the middle of a heatwave

and when he let it slip to the rest of the crew, there was no way they weren’t coming too

so that’s how you ended up in the back of a van on one of the hottest days of the year

with pontius, steve o, bam, ryan, dave, ehren and jeff tagging along with you

you couldn’t deny that you knew you were about to have one of the most hilarious days of your life

when you got to the waterpark you got changed and revealed the bathing suit you picked for the day

johnny’s eyes almost fell out of his head

his hands were immediately on your hips

and you had to scold him a couple of times for trying to make out with you when you were very much in public

tells you that you definitely need more sunscreen on as an excuse to touch you

so when he’s stood for almost ten minutes applying your sunscreen for you the other guys start to chime in

starting with bam

‘damn, me next knoxville.’

and then ryan

‘i’ve been waiting for him to touch me like that for years!’

and then chris

‘everything with this group always turns sexual.’

the first thing on everyone’s mind were the waterslides

getting in line with a group of rowdy boys made the wait seem to fly by

and then they were arguing who was going down the slide with who

johnny had his hands on your waist still

and he was adamant you’d be on the slide with him and only him

watching the rest of the guys go down was hilarious

chris ended up sliding down on steve o’s back

whilst johnny pushed jeff down with dave and ehren

johnny was clinging to you as you both shot down the slide

and hearing bam and ryan bickering whilst they slid down after you made you laugh even more

the other guys were desperate to get you on some of the tall slides

‘let’s go, y/n!’

‘you sure about these, sweetheart?’

‘oh come on, i can’t let you guys go on them without me!’

johnny insisted he wanted to go down first because he wanted to watch you

he definitely cheered afterwards

and you were only slightly embarrassed

if you try to chill out in one of the pools expect anyone of the guys to pull you off your floatie

they’ll either tip you off it from underneath

or dive on it with you to make it sink

after a few hours of fun you all agreed you needed some food

and jeff surprised you with a huge cabana for you all to relax in

johnny wasn’t sure if he could be more in love with you

when you were sat with half dried hair and sunglasses sat on your face

hints of sunburn on your skin despite all the sunscreen he insisted you needed

you catch him staring

he actually took off his sunglasses to look at you

‘you’re staring.’

‘can you blame me?’

the last thing you do is hit the wave pool

and let me tell you

it’s chaos

ryan and bam go right to the deep end to jump in

and you can see them from where you were clinging to each other once the waves start rolling in

you’re actually surprised you and johnny are the last ones standing amongst all the waves

dave and ehren are bickering in the background behind the two of you

about how deep they wanted to go

and you’re sure you see bam float right past you in one of the huge waves

not long followed by ryan

chris and steve o ended up following bam and ryan to the deep end because it looked fun

to you it looked like the best way to be thrown back towards the shallow end of the pool

so you and johnny were wading your way to the deep parts, jumping over the crashing waves

it got to a point that it was getting too deep for you

johnny’s a literal giant so he didn’t have that problem

and once the waves were getting bigger, his grip on you was tightening

until eventually you end up on his back, legs wrapped around his waist

‘i got ya, sweetheart.’

it’s one of his favorite memories

with his family

and you laughing like a mad woman in his ear