#Harassing Meg for

[cyarsk52-20]

While this does prove everything Meg been saying about him harassing her. At the of the day mfs don’t care they already have a conclusion down in their head about the situation. I believe fully in my heart that if pint size came out today and said he shot her yall would not care because yall put black abuser peen on a pedestal the same way rw people put white murderers on a pedestal

wait so Tory Lanez dad was paying off bloggers to post nasty and false narratives about Megan Thee Stallion to sway public perceptions and harass her even more??? this who y'all swear is so innocent??? And yall want him freed?!?

add 10 more years to his bid and lock his hoe ass daddy up too!

Ppl really think he’s innocent when he damn near admitted to everything he’s charged for & should be charged for more

there gonna be some burning in hell for this Slandering someone for 3K is crazy lmaoooooo

[no1ryomafan]

Yknow I knew that Ben 10 fic I wrote was gonna get more views then I would’ve liked but this was the last comment I would’ve expected even if I provided a equally funny response

[littlewomenpodcast]

I was just rereading "Laurie Makes Mischief and Jo Makes Peace." You've often cited that chapter as showing teenage Jo's flaws, because she has too much sympathy for Laurie and not enough for Meg. But I'm not sure I see it that way. At first, Jo is furious with Laurie. She's nearly beside herself with rage over the prank. Maybe she does forgive him a little too easily once he apologizes, but so do Meg and Marmee; in fact Jo is the last one to show him forgiveness. Am I missing something?

I have always found it to be one of the more trickier chapters to analyze, mainly because of Jo's mood changes. Yes, in the beginning she seems angry and defends Meg

“Oh, the little villain! That’s the way he meant to pay me for keeping my word to Mother. I’ll give him a hearty scolding and bring him over to beg pardon,” cried Jo, burning to execute immediate justice. But her mother held her back, saying, with a look she seldom wore...

Then Marmee is scolding Laurie for what he has done, this is what Jo thinks.

Jo stood aloof, meanwhile, trying to harden her heart against him, and succeeding only in primming up her face into an expression of entire disapprobation. Laurie looked at her once or twice, but as she showed no sign of relenting, he felt injured, and turned his back on her till the others were done with him, when he made her a low bow and walked off without a word.

As soon as he had gone, she wished she had been more forgiving, and when Meg and her mother went upstairs, she felt lonely and longed for Teddy. After resisting for some time, she yielded to the impulse, and armed with a book to return, went over to the big house.

This all happens within an hour or so. The part that always bothered me, was Meg crying upstairs and being very upset, and as someone who has been a victim in a similar situation around the same age as Meg, I find it very hard to sympathize with either Jo or Laurie in this case.

Laurie knows that there is something going on with Mr Brooke and Meg, and he saw this prank as an opportunity to poke at them, and what I can gather from the chapter, there has been lots of arguments going on with grandpa at home (which in no way is an excuse, but can explain some of that behavior).

With Jo, I am conflicted, on one hand she is angry what has happened to Meg, on the other hand she can't seem to be mad at Laurie, and is hurt when she sees Laurie being shouted at for harassing her sister. Very conflicting.

In part 2, when Laurie is pursuing Jo, she can't say no to him directly, she travels to New York to escape him, and when he proposes and Jo says no, she extremely kind to him, she doesn't want to hurt him.

This is just my personal opinion, I think Alcott often struggles between the fine lines of feminism and misogyny. I am currently reading Eight Cousins, and there is a line where Uncle Alec says to his sister, that he would much rather see his niece Rose playing football than tufting lace.

As someone who enjoys traditional handcrafts, rather than sports, these comments make me feel a little icky, and no I don't think there is absolutely nothing wrong with a woman playing football. It is the comparison that I find frustrating. Then I always have to remind myself that during this time, women were looked down upon for playing any sports).

In Eight Cousins, in the end there is a chapter where Charlie (who is 16) is chasing Rose (who is his 14 year old cousin) all over the house, to get a kiss under a mistletoe. Rose constantly tries to outsmart him so that she does not need to kiss him. Eventually she ends up giving a cheek kiss to her elderly uncle Mac under the mistletoe and the whole family laughs and thinks it is funny and clever how she managed to escape not kissing Charlie.

I felt so uncomfortable reading that, now as an adult. It really makes me wonder how women dealt with harassment in the 19th century. Rose's relationship with Charlie is similar to Jo and Laurie, Rose sees him as her brother, he sees her as something else. (Imho Charlie is a lot worse than Laurie).

In Little Men, there is a moment where Daisy asks Jo to come up with a play just for her, because boys don't want to play games with her and Jo thinks to herself In the house full of boys, the only girl caused most trouble.

The reason she causes trouble is that she is a girly girl and Jo struggles to connect with that.

In Jo's Boys, there is a scene where Jo sees some of the male student being too intrusive with some of the female students and she puts stop into that. By that point Jo is in her fifties, and I wonder if it was this incident with Laurie and Meg that she had on her mind (or all those moments when she said no to him, but he kept pursuing her).

I hope that answered your question. Jo defends the victim but at the same time she is the enabler of this behavior, and she manages to grow out of that. She has some great growth in these books.

[tolerateit]

also any swifties receiving anon hate or being told they're overreacting/are being dramatic im so sorry this is happening :( things are so different and i hate that there are people trying to diminish our reaction to this but im holding your hand and sending you all my love

[cyarskj52]

[sleepynegress]

A few thoughts: I hate that she was robbed of an authentic reaction to her debut, untainted by useless hatemongers. Now, we're in the rigors of Toni Morrison's quote about the work, which oddly also reminds me of some reactions to visually disabled people; the overcompensating... What I mean by that is when we treat them preciously, assume they need help, congratulate them for not hating themselves or thriving despite a visual disability? That urge is now there for decent people who have seen this mess. So, she was robbed of just being a person, with just genuine untainted reactions to a great thing that she earned. Would "doe eyes" be in that above quote, if there wasn't deeply cruel and pointed hate targeting her looks ? ...The trans misogynoir, especially (-probably, but maybe not)? P.S. THIS is why I said assume they do see it, when I notice white fans doing their best to "but not me!" when their fandoms aggressively attack Black women; both the actors playing big visible mainstream parts and the women attached to their white faves. P.P.S. This is the Toni Morrison quote I was referring to:

There is SO MUCH extra work now in all of these woman. And it sucks we can't just have a pure experience of reacting to them as people in their spaces, now.

[bardicious]

I got through a few more episodes of Supernatural season 1, some new thoughts:

Dean's annoying me less. Now I just feel sad for him too.

It's sad that Sam was already worrying about how Dean would see him (having psychic powers), like he's crazy or something, and then in later season Dean kind of always sees him like that? Very sad.

While I think John could have been a WAY better father than he was, I think it's a bit much when fanfics say he never loved Sam, or abused him (in the traditional sense, anyhow lmao). He's still an ass though, total tool, maybe if he knew how to communicate better his sons' wouldn't be so mentally dysfunctional.

Dean looks a LOT like his father.

It's very clear how much Dean has raised Sam his entire life. He really does treat Sam more like a son, than a kid brother, which is probably where lots of conflicts arise between the two to begin with.

I hope Dean doesn't anywhere in the future use Meg as an example of people Sam has made poor judgment calls on. If anything, it was Dean who made the poor judgment call, and constantly told Sam to sleep with her. Like... Sam knew she was suspicious from his second meeting with her. And his first meeting was ONLY when she took advantage of his insecurities.

As with most media, and especially 2000s media, Meg sexually assaulting Sam is treated ridiculously lightly. Like, they don't need to focus a whole episode or even scene or anything, but I really wish they would at least imply that Meg is wrongful and a creep. If this happened to a woman, it wouldn't even be a question. Instead I get hints of victim blaming when Dean tells them to get a room. (Like, they were both hoping it would serve well as a distraction, but jesus christ man)

[mayaishiipeters]

nandor has GOT to stop meeting people at massive fitness

[transfemgorgug]

being a little bit of a hater is a good thing i think. everyone should embrace being a hater

[viraltrendsspot]

Megan Thee Stallion Sues Blogger Milagro Gramz - Tory Lanez Case

29-year-old rapper Megan Thee Stallion has filed a lawsuit against blogger Milagro Gramz (legally known as Milagro Elizabeth Cooper) in the Southern District of Florida.

[johnpriceslamb]

I will always love the idea of being rescued by a cowboy (Arthur Morgan).

Just the image of running away from someone in Saint Denis. Maybe it’s due to a misunderstanding, robbery or simply a creep. Making the dumb mistake of not hiding in a shop and finding yourself in an alleyway trapped. Except the real person in trouble is the stalker because Arthur Morgan is about to serve a knuckle sandwich. Or gun. Doesn’t matter, dead either way.

𝓜𝓨 𝓗𝓔𝓡𝓞 ,

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ˚₊‧꒰ Things take a really wrong turn once visiting Saint Denis to stock up on food for camp. Luckily, Arthur insisted on accompanying you. ꒱

BEFORE YOU PROCEED ! ┊ Hyper-fem(?) ! reader • female ! reader • reader is mentioned 2 be physically shorter than characters mentioned below • gun-slinging mention • brute cowboy bf x shy princess gf • arthur morgan being a complete nut over u • harassment • attempted assault • not proof-read :P • very rushed ‘m sorriiii!!! • 1.6k wrds

“But Arthur—”

“No.”

The small stuffed toy in your hands looks hurt from his rejection, as do your expression on your face. You hug the little guy to your chest, and you put on your best puppy eyes to try and make him change his mind. This usually works, but unfortunately- it did not, this time.

“We ain’t gettin’ that.” He grumbles, lazy eyes looking around the fancy store. He’s uncomfortable, you could tell. From the way he glances at all the bright coloured items sitting preciously on such elegant shelves, you’d think it would’ve costed at least a finger or too to even manage one, the golden floral designs embarked in the corners of the interior, to the fancy looking tiles beneath your feet.

It’s too.. fancy. He stands out like a larger thorn amongst a stem of a rose.

You puff out your cheeks at his slow-growing irritation. Before reluctantly putting it back on the shelf you found it on.

Then, he continues on with a low sigh. Your hand was in his, and he leads you around very similar to a grumpy dad leading his daughter from all the chaos happening which surrounds them. There was too many people, and he feels like he’s about to become crabbier each second will pass being in this awful store.

“We’re here to buy food, not toys.” He grunts, before gently giving you back your empty woven basket.

You begrudgingly force yourself to not reply, sticking close to him.

Suddenly, your eyes perk up at the small sign embedded with ‘Spices’ in bold which hung up from the ceiling. You tug on his sleeve, “Arthur?”

“Hmm?” He looks back. His heart almost aches from the way your beady eyes stare up at him like a small puppy.

“Can we get some spices? Y’know, for the stews Pearson makes. Only a bottle or two!” You pleaded sweetly, gesturing to the sign afar. “It’ll make his food taste more.. appetising.”

He ponders, before nodding slowly. “Hm.. Alright. Get two though, make sure it ain’t so spicy.” He pats your lower back to encourage you to get it quicker. You beam and nod, but before you go, you hand him the basket so he could continue shopping, scampering away to get the said items.

The array of little wooden jars sealed tightly with spices made you in awe. You can practically smell each and one of them from a literal mile away despite the thin layer of sticky-tape which goes around the rim of the jar multiple times.

You unconsciously place a finger on your cheek, pondering on which one to get. Not long, your hands reach up to a jar embedded with the words ‘pepper’ and another reaching up to ‘nut-meg.’ Each selling for only a dollar. Not too bad.

And you feel a towering presence behind you. Believing it was your beloved, you eagerly turn around with a squeak— “I’ve got the!— uh..”

A few blinks and an abrupt pause. It was not Arthur.

Rather, a man with leering eyes, and a predatory-like gaze.

You shift around uncomfortably, “..Um. Can I help you, mister?” Posing to be polite, perhaps the man just wanted help with something.

He stares at you for a bit too long, and you can see his eyes lowering and lowering, before travelling up your figure once again.

He coughs, “Ain’t you a pretty lil’ thang..” Before scratching at his long unkept beard.

Your steps are quick, almost backing into the shelves of spices.

“..Please leave me alone,” You meekly stutter.

He flashes you a crooked teeth grin. “Now why in the hell would I do that?” He takes another step towards you. All instincts inside you rise up quickly, and not long after you pocket the spices inside your light-pink dress before immediately turning to the side to leave.

You don’t notice the fact that he follows you. Only until you reach the same spot Arthur beckoned you to go and get the items you wanted, he wasn’t there. You feel insanely insecure due to the fact that you could not find Arthur amongst the crowd of people inside the large general store. Only then do you stop, and feel..

hot breath hitting your neck.

You squeal, turning around immediately and backing away.

“Get— get the hell away from me!” Your frilly cries cause a few people to turn their heads towards your direction, only to ignore you as soon as they assessed the situation.

He has the same crooked teeth smile on his face as he slowly creeps up to you again. And with that, you hitch up your long floral skirt and run. Run to the exit of the general store with a squeal- only for some crazy man to quickly follow after you.

You want to hit yourself on the head. You didn’t have any guns, nor did you remember to pack the pocket knife Charles gifted you to protect yourself from anyone. You were never one to raise your hands to anyone, nor try to cause conflict.

You bump into a few people, earning scowls and empty threats. You didn’t care, not with a lunatic right on your feet.

“When I catch you—” You hear him heavily breathing, “‘M gon’ do real bad things t’ you, real bad.”

You want to tear up. Badly. But you don’t. Your mind is in shambles as you turn a corner, only to almost run face-to-face to a brick wall which stands tall and high.

You were cornered.

You sob loudly, scratching at the brick walls- you’re well aware that this alone will do absolutely nothing, and your painted nails will probably have cracks on the tips of them. But with panic crumpling your brain, you tend to do things a bit.. weird.

The walls between the two of you are so close it feels like you’re about to faint. An echo of laughter is what catches your attention as you slowly turn around.

“Please, mister!” You plead with a loud sniffle, “I— I— we don’t even know each other!” You let out a loud enough wail when he approached rapidly.

“Ohoh, dumb and pretty. What a package.” He rubs his hands eagerly, almost drooling at your pathetic sight, “You really thought you could outrun me?”

“Don’t make this harder, sweetheart. Just take them frilly lil’ clothes off.. In-fact, why don’t I help ya..”

You clumsily slap him once he’s just a centimetre away from you. Hardly. A low growl escapes his lips, his head turned sideways from that harsh slap.

“You little bit—”

A bullet whizzes past you. It hits the bricks behind you, just a hair-length away. It causes you to yelp loudly, as does the man who was about to slap you back. You peek your head over his shoulder, only to let out a loud cry of relief.

“You better let her go, friend.” The same cowboy who’s uttered the sweetest praise to you and only you, talks in a tone too cold for your liking. Something you’ve never heard nor experience.

“Who the hell is that?” He snarls to you.

“I said, let her go.” Arthur is not afraid to put a bullet through his head. His shoulder is gripped tightly and yanked away from you, leaving you to allow your knees to buckle from shock as you leaned on the wall to help you balance yourself from the shock.

With a harsh bonk to the head with the butt of his revolver, the man slumps on the dirty ground. An obvious purple dent on his head.

Arthur rushes over to your shaking form, immediately scooping you into his arms and squishing you into a tight bear-hug. You’re probably gonna regret the fact that some of your powder will get onto his chest, but you hiccup and hug him tighter for comfort.

You stammer out, “I— he.. I thought I was gonna die..”

He brushes your hair with his burly fingers, “You’re okay, sweetheart. Don’t think about it no more. No one’s gon’ kill ya if I’m here.”

Suddenly, he looks you up and down quickly to assess you. “You ain’t hurt anywhere are you..?”

“No,” You shake your head meekly, “‘M okay. I.. I think I need a bit of time to myself at camp, though.”

“I understand.” He nods and gently puts an arm around your waist to guide you back to the wagon parked a long way away.

His hands brush past against your pockets and notices two hard cylinder shaped objects in them.

Suddenly, your eyes widen, “Oh darn- I-I forgot to pay for the spices!” He’s amused at your lack of profanity used.

He interrupts you with a soft chuckle, before squishing you a bit tighter, “Guess that makes the two of us. Rushed out with the groceries in the basket to find ya and didn’t pay. Reckon we gotta go another route to get to the wagon, passing by the general store will surely just get us into more trouble.”

You could envision that scene playing out. Arthur realising that you weren’t there, and immediately rushing out of the general store with a bunch of items inside the basket to find you.

“Don’t think we’ll be visiting Saint Denis anytime soon.” You feel a tug on your hand as you see a shopkeeper loudly calling out for the two of you.

You squeak and giggle as he easily grabs onto your waist and ran for dear life to the wagon with your shop-lifted grocery items. If you were to give a quick glance to the insides of the basket again, you can see a faint blur of a stuffed toy.

[cyarsk52-20]

She slandered a black woman for that monster for $3k. That’s not even enough for surgery to unbig that back. like you ruined your entire life and bag over some abuser ding a ling and 3K? I could never be like that.

That girl TOLD YALL if you was sick of her to stay on bed rest cause she finna fuck up the rest of your year and now look

I’ll never be so strung on someone so problematic that I’ll lose my money, my pride and the respect of others, I tell you that. I maybe 26 in a couple of weeks but I’m not that dumb

[no1ryomafan]

I’m always in and out of mega man circles and lore is a subject I’ve come to loathe sometimes as I enjoy the lore in this series but the gatekeeping was unreal over a series that didn’t have anything planned out-like most old video games trying to establish lore-so alterations to canon should be acceptable next to “aus exist for a reason” but maybe it’s just cause the fandom as is doesn’t like/give star force a chance, I wish low key people would be more accepting of the idea of “turning the FM-Ians into robots akin to the Stardroids” because that would be such a raw concept for them to still exist in the robot timeline but as more space alien robots we never saw but I know people would get hissy at this idea not being “canon” when this doesn’t invalidate the network timeline, it’s just saying “what if these aliens both coexist” (cause I also fuck with the stardroids also being FM-Ians or space Navis if duo.exe can exist, but I feel like someone would’ve done that by now but definitely hasn’t done this idea)

[liveontelevision]

Hiii ! I love all your work 💛 I was wondering if I could please have Lucifer with a reader who’s really curvy like Jesus rabbit or Meg the stallion and spoils our duck king just making sure he’s always taken care of he deserves all the love 🤣

SORRY FOR THE DELAY

But i've been wanting to do this prompt for a while because some ridiculous angst came to mind with it, so thanks for the request!

CW: Panic attacks and fluff and kissin'

Nostalgia | Lucifer x Reader

Not everyone was lucky enough to have an appealing form in the afterlife. For instance, you had the curves that brought adult film directors falling to their knees and begging for your participation. Your long hair nearly swept the floor, creating a sweetly flowing curtain to bring all focus to your contrastingly round bosom and hips. Really, a sight for sore eyes. Still, the flattering comments go hand in hand with the more unsolicited ones.

You were a rare case in Hell. You didn’t exactly belong, having made very little mistakes to bring you here, and you luckily fell near the hotel. That didn’t prevent the rare interactions you’d have with other sinners, the teasing and harassment.. After getting an earful of the princess’s mission, you had no reason to not give redemption a shot. The hotel was your first stop in your afterlife.

“Damn, girly, you musta just died!” Greeted with a friendly-looking group, a tall spider demon ushers you over to the bar. He examines you casually, looking your form up and down with a hum. “Hey Charlie, got any extra clothes for this one? I don’t think I got anythin’ that’ll fit.”

Of course, comments like this never truly meant malice, but it still left you instinctively holding your arms to cover your body in some sort. His words force you to look down at your unfamiliar form, wide hips and bust, compared to the lengthy stature of this kind stranger, and he was certainly right.

When you arrive in Hell, you usually are left in the rags you died in. And your death was not a pretty one. Your clothes looked covered in blood, and sopping wet at the same time, covered in little holes and tears in the most undesirable spots.

“Oh! Sure! We made sure to get some spare clothes for residents- until you can find something more your style, that is! Compliments of the hotel~” Charlie sings her words out proudly. You’re brought to one of the hotel’s rooms after some very casual and fleeting introductions to the rest of the staff and comfortably settle into the new space.

After some much-needed rest, you finally dress.

It was very.. business casual. Similar to what Charlie and the hotel manager -Vaggie- wore, a soft red blazer and a skirt that hugs your curves just a bit too tight. Any dress shirts laid out were splitting at the buttons. You opted out, relying very heavily on the quality of your jacket to keep your entire chest from being exposed. It should work for now. Until you can find something else, at least.

Tugging at the hem of the skirt and adjusting your top as you leave the room, you’re too frustrated to realize you hit another demon with the swing of the door. A quiet yelp and shuffle leaves you frozen in place for a moment. You hadn’t been in Hell long, but you knew to avoid confrontation in any form. Who knows what kind of monster this sinner is?

You let out a sigh of relief seeing a figure with a handful of paperwork, despite some of them being scattered to the floor. It must be a staff member. Thank god, it's a staff member. You finally snap out of your panicked state.

“Sorry! I-I wasn’t paying attention..” You quickly kneel down to scoop up as many documents as you can, but not without struggling to do so. You continue to pull at your skirt in between motions. The stranger is at your side, doing the same and neatly piling them back in his arms.

“It’s fine! It’s fine! I got it!” He seems to rush ahead of your reach, trying to keep you from assisting him. He seems stubborn. You peak up for a moment, seeing a pure white being, with similar features to Charlie’s -the red irises, the rosy cheeks, the golden locks- and it still takes you a moment to put everything together.

Shit.

Charlie briefly mentioned her father was around the hotel, but was far too busy to be there for introducing new residents and that you might see him around! Maybe..! Followed by a sigh of defeat. The thought was nearly erased from your mind until now. Until the King of Hell is sitting directly in front of you on the ground, his hand hovering over yours.

You hadn’t realized your eyes had met his own until an exclamation from behind you brings both of your attention to an approaching Princess from behind.

“Dad! This is perfect!” She squeals. You watch his expression immediately change at just the sight of her. His smile and eyes were suddenly bright as day as he stood up to greet her with a quick squeeze. “This is our newest resident! She just arrived earlier today!”

His eyes fall to you, still kneeling over the last few papers that you were handling while the two conversed with each other. He holds his hand out to you. You hesitate, but take it without question. You're stood up without any resistance, the angelic strength bringing you to your feet with a startling ease. You tower over him, being just a bit taller than Charlie. His hand continues to hold yours for a moment longer as if he were waiting for you to finally release it. But, you might’ve been doing the same.

“The, uh- papers, I can.. Take those.”

Shit..!

You finally pull your hand away and pass along the papers you still held, allowing him to adjust them back into his pile neatly.

“Good! We can get some introductions out of the way!” Charlie hooks each of you under her arms, forcing you to bend a bit to keep yourself from being essentially choked. Charlie also seems stronger than she looks.. must be genetic. “Dad?” Charlie pats her father’s back and he stumbles forward, towards you.

“Oh- Oh! Right, um.. You may call me Lucifer, I usually work in my office, but if you happen to run into me, or hit me with a door-” He mumbles those last words with a smile, and you cover your mouth to stifle a laugh. “-then I’m more than happy to help.” His tone clearly shows that this was a scripted introduction, one that Charlie had made him prepare and recite to many others.

But his smile;. It seemed so natural.

The whole interaction leaves your heart thumping without you even realizing it until he walks off.

“Shoot.. Those don’t really seem to fit, do they..?” Charlie lets out a thoughtful hum and takes in your tight wardrobe. You instantly clasp your hands in front of you, after adjusting the skirt yet again. “That’s okay! I think Angel might be free soon if you-”

“-No need! I was just about to head to the tailor! It appeared my poor jacket has been torn yet again.” A static voice accompanies a shadowy figure beside Charlie. “I am more than happy to accompany our new guest on my outing.”

Alastor, the facility manager.

“That’s so nice of you Alastor! But- only if you’re okay with it.” She turns to you with a bright smile.

He seemed nice enough.. And tailoring your clothes did seem easier than buying a whole new wardrobe for now.

“Yeah.. okay! As long as you don’t mind my company-”

“Oh, I’m more than delighted to show you off to Cannibal Town.” His voice turns sultry for a moment, and the entire comment leaves you tense.

Show you off?

Wait.. Cannibal Town??

Since you’ve already agreed, and Alastor’s arm is already offered out to you, you quietly link them together and follow his long strides.

“Yes..!” Apparently, this was a moment to celebrate, you hear a tiny woo! from Charlie as you walk on. “You two have fun!”

-

You were surprised by the whole experience. Alastor went out of his way to not only send you to the tailor to adjust your current outfit, which was handled swiftly and skillfully, but to take you to a nearby shop and find some little things; accessories, jewelry, shoes, anything you could really dream of. You insisted you didn't need anything fancy, but apparently, it was another courtesy of the hotel.

During your shopping spree, you slow your stroll to take in a magazine that had been left on some bench. It had Lucifer on the cover. He had a shimmer in his eyes and wore a devilish smirk. He seemed so photogenic, compared to the tired man you had ran into earlier today. You're tugged along by Alastor before you can think any further.

Yet, you’re stopped again. A delicate necklace, a string of pearls that would sit sweetly on your chest; you spot it all boxed up in a red velvet display, looking expensive as ever. Still, you can't keep your eyes off of it. Like a child in a candy store, your eyes are locked on the glass case it's withheld.

“Something catch your eye, my dear?” Your greedy trance is broken when Alastor makes his presence known behind you. You reel your hands away from the glass and quickly shake your head.

“No, not really.” You say with a cool tone. “Nothing important.” As you trail off, assumingly done with this interaction, Alastor is quick to discover the source of your wonderment. He shows a devious smile to no one, then lets out a curious hum.

“Well, this could be fun..”

-

“Ooh! You look perfect! How was your trip?” Charlie seems to greet you at the door every time, even without you knocking. She's immediately in front of you, lifting your arms and examining the previous outfit that had been tailored for you.

Despite her lack of spatial awareness, you still felt comfortable enough to go on about your day with Alastor. The mentions of gruesome sights and lavish shops somehow all seem to fit together and paint a clear picture of Pentagram City and Cannibal Town. Charlie looks as if you're reading her a bedtime story, sweetly smiling and nodding with every little detail. at the mention of a certain little jewelry store, a cold sensation falls on your shoulders.

Pearls?

You place your hands against its length as you feel the heat of large hands on either side of your head.

“Alastor? What are you-”

“- your hair, my dear.” Silently, you pull your hair to the side, waiting patiently for him to release the clasp. It feels like he's taking his time. Or maybe it's the multiple sets of eyes suddenly on you that are making you feel unsettled.

As Alastor stands over your seated form, still working the jewelry between his talons, Charlie is going on about some other topic you are having trouble focusing on. And peeking over her shoulder, for just a second, you catch Lucifer passing by.

He seems to glance at the interaction then back forward, then turning his attention completely to you. He’s stopped in his tracks. His eyes are wide, the bags underneath only accentuated by his shocked expression. You're waiting for him to say something.

Do something.

Anything.

Anything but this damn staring game.

Luckily, Charlie's hyperawareness finds her father. She smiles and waves in his direction. Once he's broken from your trance, he almost looks like he's.. blushing. Just a tad pinker in the cheeks than before. The sight leaves you gripping your hair with a little gasp. He quickly moves on.

And so do you.

For a few weeks at least. Something you’ve picked up; your first day at the hotel and finding Lucifer not once but twice, was a rare occurrence. He was practically nowhere to be seen most days. An occasional passing in the hallways led you to try and smile and wave at the least, but you were only met with a disgruntled-looking king and a handful of paperwork. You'd see him while you worked on exercises with the others, stopping what you were doing to meet his eyes. Those moments were fleeting, usually only lasting until some other demon pulled your attention.

your mind automatically went to the worst, though. while he seemed nice enough, and you wouldn't mind getting the answer to that questioning expression he wears around you, there's one possibility you can't overlook.

Your wardrobe had to be accumulated to Hell. there weren't exactly seasons, but some days, with the absolute boiling heat, you were at a loss to the sight of Alastor and Charlie in a full suit. You even wondered if Husk got too hot on days like that. You wore more casual clothes, shorts and skirts, tops that seemed to hug you snugly despite their couture tailoring, often paired with a thin jacket or cardigan that draped over your shoulders to hide your striking silhouette.

Even though you hid your curves, for sound mind you told yourself, you wouldn't be surprised if the King of Hell was one to gawk or consider such sinful things. Any curiosities turned to delusions over time.

It was one of those nights. Unbearably hot, you refuse to leave the cool of your hotel room. You're fiddling with the pearls around your neck, a common occurrence considering how frequently you wore them. Using all your strength you convince yourself to get out and top off the cool drink that you'd finished moments ago. The idea of bumping into anyone in your current state left you in a state of discomfort, though. Despite the heat you’re trying to avoid, you are covered in one of those loose cardigans that you refuse to be seen without. An overheated mess, you still pushed yourself to the kitchen.

After a successful trip, you shut the door quietly behind you and let out a sigh that releases all tension.

“Oh- uhm.. Hi.” you're suddenly tense again. 

You turn your head quickly to see the king, of course. The one who’s been plaguing your thoughts no matter how often you deny it. He greets you with a small wave and another smile that seems as genuine as it does strained. With your body pressed against the door, you take a moment to process his words, then take each side of your sweater to cover your more revealing loungewear beneath it. “Were you looking for something? I can help-”

You quickly shake your head.

“No no, I'm fine, I just need.. Uh…” You scan the room as you talk, absentmindedly avoiding looking in his direction, and spot the oasis of water bottles nearby. “Just needed a drink!”

You begin to head to the door, escape any confrontation, with more water than you truly need.

“Have a good night, uh- your highness- your.. Majesty.. Sir?” You groan at yourself for the fumble, but the air is suddenly met with a peal of calming laughter.

“What, did you forget my name?” That's when you take the time to finally look at him. Leaning on the counter across the stove, he seems to be waiting for a kettle to finish boiling. You blurt out small talk without even thinking.

“It's a little late for coffee, don't you think?” You almost want to clamp your hand over your mouth, let out a quick nevermind!, and turn back to-

“It's tea, actually.” His voice is soft as ever. You only respond with a quiet hum, ignoring your inability to take your eyes off him. Both of you feel the need to fill the silence, Lucifer just happens to beat you to it.

“Would you.. want a cup?”

You examine the cup in your hand, it has intricate details, gold and purple colorings. It matches his. The tea inside looks golden, still steaming. Despite the heat, you can still feel the warm condensation drifting across your nose each time you take a sip.

Why did you agree to this, again?

“So.. If you don’t mind me asking, I’m a little curious about what keeps you so busy.” You fill the silence next, the tension in your body melting with each draw of tea. “I didn’t think the King of Hell would need to do paperwork. I thought it was all just.. Brimstone- and fire.”

“Mhm, it’s all for the hotel actually. I haven’t had to do this much desk work in a few.. years…” As he speaks, you watch him add an absurd amount of sugar and honey to his cup. You almost lose focus, trying to process how sweet that must be. “There’s a lot I still have to talk to Heaven about, and it’s just.. Easier for me to do it. I mean- I’m sure Charlie could handle it, but.. Listen, Heaven has a lot of rules, and who knows them better than-”

“-An angel?” You were just planning on putting an end to his rambling, he seemed to be getting worked up. His story is a well-known one from Earth, but it’s also mentioned throughout Hell. It’s not like you admitted to knowing some big secret, but his suddenly pained expression leaves you feeling guilty.

“You know it..!” His strained response is paired with a nervous smile. The room is met with another silence, you focus in on the clinking of his cup, the swirling of the spoon in his drink to bring together his overly sweetened tea.

“So it’s all for Charlie.. you must love her a lot, huh?” You ask softly. His eyes quickly meet yours.

“Of course I do! She’s my daughter!” He blurts out, almost immediately becoming flustered by the realization of his outburst.

“Sorry sorry! I mean, it’s just.. Sweet. Seeing how hard you work for her.” You try to recover your apparent mistake, and the room fills with yet another deafening silence. Or you thought so, at least.

Lucifer's eyes began to glow at your words. He still looks to you, even though you've made the decision to keep your eyes on the swirling remnants of what tea you had left in the cup. And his smile? It's subtle, almost not visible from far away, but it looks like the first time he's genuinely smiled in months.

And it’s because of you.

“I should get back to my room- so.. good night, then?” Your eyes still avoid his for the time being.

“Good night-?” he draws out his words as if he were waiting for you to finish his previous statement.

“Hm? Oh- Good night, Lucifer.” You clarify in your statement that you do in fact remember his name. Simply meant as a ploy to tease you, Lucifer finds himself rather pleased by the sound of his name coming from you.

-

You were sure you had thoroughly embarrassed yourself that night. He was kind enough to offer you tea and chat, and you got him all riled up over nothing. that being said, he still seemed to smile and greet you when you passed him in the hallways.

Which.. had been happening more frequently as of late. You'd see him at least two or three times a day, and you'd catch him leaning against a nearby wall during exercises. It was a bit peculiar, considering he never seemed to have time to stop and overlook such activities in the past. He’d stop directly in front of you, but far away enough that you'd be able to catch his eyes and smile his way. And you always did. because his response was a sweet glow, a blush to his pink cheeks, and a sparkle in his eye.

It was intoxicating.

A few weeks on, Lucifer decided he was a drinker. Whenever you were, at least. He'd find you at the bar almost every night, walk up, and pull a come here often? before sitting beside you and discussing completely irrelevant things for the night.

Lucifer wasn't exactly a lightweight, but you were more than capable of holding your liquor. you weren't even sure how that worked exactly. An angel, a being of pure light, how would he get tipsy? Maybe the alcohol sent you down this train of thought, but it didn’t last long before you felt a head drop to your shoulder.

Quickly examining your situation, you find that Lucifer may have had one too many. He continues to lawl his head against your shoulder, almost nuzzling to find some sort of comfort. His eyes flutter shut, and he seems to be humming and muttering incoherent sentences under his breath.

You adjust accordingly, allowing him to sit comfortably on your side. You aren't exactly sure why.. this could all be a game to get you in his bed. That's probably the case.. it almost always is. Then, you start to listen.

“You're beautiful~”

      “How'd you end up here? You're more of an angel than I am.”

“You have the sweetest smile.”

      “So sweet to me.”

You wonder if he knows what he's saying. Or if he's even talking about you, exactly. But just the implication that it is, is leaving you heated in the cheeks.

A part of you is ready to leave him here alone and let him sleep this off at the bar. Another part is.. Flattered. You haven’t felt flattered in a while. Those kinds of words almost always led to unreciprocated advances. Above all, he’s far too intoxicated to make any real decisions tonight. At the very least, you bring him over to the couch near the fireplace and throw a blanket over him.

“Mmn.. Stay…” A small hand takes a hold of your wrist and you're brought back to his side. You're.. tempted. To say the least. He's laid on his side, his eyes half-lidded and staring at you sweetly. You free your hand and brush back the hairs that had fallen into his face in the process of getting him to the couch.

“Good night.” You say softly. He hums to your touch, leaning his head into your palm as you rake your fingers through his hair.

“Mmy name-” you barely hear him say.

“Lucifer. Good night, Lucifer.” You roll your eyes as you speak and he sends you a pleased grin.

-

He didn’t seem to remember that little interaction, but the memory kept you company most nights. The little passing in the hallway made for easy conversation, despite your growing feelings. He would make little mentions at first,

Come here often?

      Careful with your door, this time!

Ready for round 2 in the kitchen?

Well.. that last one was meant to be an invitation to get tea again. He didn't quite understand why you were so flustered by that.

After some time, you'd offer to help with his work. He was hoping for some more time together, but he would never expect you to offer your help. He never expected you to be concerned by how much paperwork he's always carrying around.

To care.

He accepted, but only after some insistence. You'd spent plenty of time together after that. You'd bring him tea on occasions, see him stressed, and make a game plan to get through some work, and if he really needed it- just keep him company while he read over some documents.  He'd tease, and call you his little secretary, which you would respond to by calling him sir- and in turn, he would instantly heat up and regret his choices.

After some time, you'd become more of a distraction than a helping hand. You'd tell him about the books you'd read as a child, the fantasy stories, and how you'd always play pretend; play the prince coming to rescue the princess-

“So you were saving the princess?” He asked.

“What, don't you think I'd make a dashing prince?” You'd joke, puffing out your chest and acting ruggishly handsome. The action would cause your comfort coat to slip, yet you didn’t seem to mind.

Other times, you’d be listening to music, which always had to be a struggle, considering the constant bullying of your taste in music from Lucifer. He'd pull up true music, which usually was.. polka. But sometimes, he'd bring up these pieces, with a renaissance feel that were fiddle-heavy.

Prime for dancing.

You'd catch him tapping his foot, and one day, you gave in to your desires. Spinning him around in his chair, you take both his wrists and drag him to his feet. You twirled him around in a fit of laughter and he was quick to join along. He’d even sing along if there were lyrics, of course you didn't know the words one bit, but you were more than happy to simply listen to his angelic voice.

Once the music would come to a halt, you’d pull him in for a quick embrace. Your breaths were both labored, and to recover, Lucifer wrapped his hands around your waist, leaning into your form. With the height difference and your proximity, his head would rest comfortably at the top of your chest.

Finally catching your breath, it took you a moment to realize.. that this didn't bother you, either. You would even stand there, letting him hold you and look up to you for some time. His eyes were tired as if he could comfortably sleep right here in your grasp, yet he still smiled at you.

-

“What abouuttt… A ball?” Charlie and Alastor both turn their heads to the source of the recommendation. Lucifer is met with silence. “ ‘cause uh… We have enough people for it now! And it could be fun to celebrate that way.. right..?” He laughs nervously, ready to take back his words already.

You've been at the hotel for six months. Since that was around the time Sir Pentious was redeemed, it was starting to become a big deal. Charlie decided she wanted to celebrate with everyone, possibly as a farewell, so she gathered whoever was nearby to brainstorm. But neither Alastor nor Charlie was expecting such a bold idea from Lucifer.

Of course, he had his reasonings. you had talked a few times about your love of fantasy. The costumes, the extravagant events from books, the romance- the idea of a princess finding a prince.. A king, maybe. Feeling absolutely selfish, he saw the idea of a ball as a good time to celebrate you.. your progress, that is.

“I used to throw them all the time, It'll be perfect for her.” He says smoothly. His motives go unnoticed by Charlie, at least.

“That sounds fancy~ let's do it! It'll be great for some of the newer residents to mingle and make friends and- ah! This could definitely work!” Charlie’s already planning the night out in her head, when Lucifer glances at the radio demon, who's been silent for an uncomfortably long time.

“What's your problem, bambi?” Lucifer scoffs.

“Nothing at all! I'm sure our guest of honor will be delighted by the entire idea. why, it's the smartest idea I've heard from you in months! I'll let her know right away.” With a quick insult, he dissipates into his shadow before Lucifer has a chance to scold him. Charlie turns to her father, beginning the planning process immediately.

-

“A ball?” You turn from your vanity, facing Alastor in a mixture of confusion and fear as to how he managed to appear in your room without using the door. “like with.. dancing and fancy dresses?”

“Precisely! To celebrate your time and progress at the hotel! You'll be the guest of honor, my dear!” He presents the idea like a sales pitch, waving his arm in a feat of awe at the very idea. “What do you say?”

“Well.. it sounds… like a dream. I’ll need something to wear though, I didn't think about-”

“Not a problem! I'm more than willing to assist you with that as well.” You hum in thought. He did seem to get your style and preferences down pat when you first arrived..

“Sure..!”

-

The night came quickly. You'd be surprised how much faster a lavish event like this is done in the right spirits. Lucifer seemed over the moon that you were looking forward to it, and he clearly put his best efforts into the entire event. Once everything was to his liking, he finally stepped away to let Charlie finish some other details. This was the first event he’d truly planned since Lillith- well.

She was usually the one to get everything together. Lucifer was never one to mingle with Sinners, yet she was always insistent that he at least attend. He's surprised he picked up as much as he did just from those moments.

Standing proudly at the top of the stairs, his eyes scan the room. Hands on his hips, he's sure nothing could ruin this moment.

“Quite an accomplishment, your majesty!” Lucifer immediately stands corrected. “I'm sure our Belle of the Ball will be delighted by this display, wouldn't you agree?” Alastor props his elbow against the king's head, forcing a groan of disgust from him. He pushes him away with a huff.

“Yes, I'm sure she'll have fun. No thanks to you.” He snaps, running his hands through his hair to try and maintain what had been crushed beneath Alastor's taunting.” I didn't see you helping at all!”

“Why, I did my fair share! Our darling dear needed some assistance with her gown for the evening. I would say I dolled her up quite nicely, but I'll let you be the judge of that, Your Majesty.” Alastor leans on his microphone, looking out to the decorated lobby in a rare moment of calm between the two.

“Well.. good. She deserves some pampering. She's.. too good for this realm, that's for sure. Sweet, caring- always trying to help me- the hotel, I mean- even though she never needs to, she's just..” Lucifer lets out a thoughtless sigh, getting too distracted by his memories of you to truly think about his words. “She’s perfect.”

Alastor simply laughs at the slip of vulnerability.

“Quite a lovesick little thing, aren't you?” He pinches Lucifer's cheek condescendingly, only for him to swat his hand away in retaliation.

Lovesick?

“I must say, you certainly have a type.”

And with that, he's vanished. Lucifer looks around, only thinking on what he said for a moment before he's being beckoned by Charlie.

-

There aren't many sinners at the hotel, but with a few plus ones and some hired hell-born to cater, the lobby was perfectly filled with a small band and a dance floor to boot. lucifer walks in circles around the room. He's certainly dressed appropriately for a king hosting a ball, but he's still fretting over his clothes;

An elegant coat drapes over his shoulders, simulating a sort of cape that trails behind him as he paces the large area. He's shoved a decent amount of sweets in his mouth already, occasionally adjusting His long black gloves that cover most of his blouse. He went a bit bold, by the suggestion of one spider demon, with a corseted belt, the rivets tightened with a silk red ribbon.

why is he so anxious? He wasn't planning on confessing his feelings, which he's only recently accepted after being described as lovesick.. Perhaps it was your absence.

He's talking to Charlie, making awkward small talk with Vaggie, doing anything to keep his mind off of you. It's simply impossible. All he can see is your smile, your reddened face at the slightest tease, and your eyes when-

An announcer brings all attention to the top of the stairs.

You'll be the first to admit, that a big formal introduction isn't exactly your style. But Alastor, the good friend he is, manages to convince you that it might just be fun! and will only be a few moments!

This was the first time you'd seen the venue, considering you'd been locked in your room the entire day. Not exactly your idea, but Charlie insisted on it being a surprise. Besides, tonight's a night you decided to step out of your comfort zone. The announcement was one thing, but with Alastor helping find you a dress, you were definitely more.. exposed than you planned to be.

A neckline that traveled across both shoulders and flowed down to the floor in its own cape-like fashion. Mesh sleeves that followed up the sweetheart neckline of your gown emphasized your bosom, where your familiar pearls sat comfortably. The body hugged your abdomen right down to your hips, where it draped to the floor, trailing down the stairs with each step. A detail you weren't especially keen on, a slit that traveled up one side of your legs, revealing the sweet smoothness of your skin there. Any demonic features you adorned, horns or tails, were decorated and jeweled accordingly. With heels to bring your already tall silhouette to a new level, you were quite literally the Belle of the Ball. 

If Lucifer's jaw could drop any lower, it'd hit the floor. He's in the back of the crowd, watching you carefully descend the stairs. He took in your body for a moment, then your gown, and your flowing hair- and.. the… Pearls…

You certainly have a type.

“Fuck.” A rare curse slips from Lucifer's lips. It catches Charlie's attention and she kneels down to whisper to him.

“you doing okay, dad?” He nods slowly. “Good.. good..! This is going perfectly, this was a really great idea! She looks great too, doesn't she? Al did a good job, right?”

Alastor, you bastard.

She excitedly goes on, but Lucifer simply isn't there. He's watching you enter the crowd as the music starts back up. Some people are dancing, some are still chatting and drinking, but all he can see is you. A decent group of people have approached you, asking for a dance, offering drinks, or purely just being there to compliment you.

“Dad!” A quick shake of his shoulder brings his attention back to Charlie.

“W-What- what is it?” He says quickly, still trying to process the startling connection he’s made.

“We're gonna go say hi, are you coming?” With her arm wrapped around Vaggie, Charlie Is moving in your direction.

“Oh! Umm..! Maybe later, I just gotta.. check on these.. band- the band! I'm gonna see how the band is doing! Yeah!” He looks around the room as he speaks, finding the nearest excuse. They shrug before waving him off. and Lucifer.. Goes to check on the band.

Picking up a champagne flute on the way, he leans against the wall near the band's small platform. He feels like he’s been punched in the stomach and stabbed in the heart equally, his free hand gripping the ribbons of his belt.

Good god, you look divine. And he’s head over heels for you, that’s something he can’t deny.

But was it for the right reasons? Was it all just because you looked like-

“Lucifer!” He immediately recognizes your voice, sending a chill up his spine once he sees you fast approaching. He straightens his posture and puts his empty glass down on an incoming tray to pick up two full ones.

You let out a sigh of exhaustion, taking one the flutes. It was his plan to offer the second drink to you, but.. then he watches you take a sip, your dark lipstick leaving an unmistakable imprint on the glass. He gulps down the champagne, already needing another.

“I heard you did most of the planning for this, it’s beautiful! Thank you.” You smile, placing a hand on his shoulder. His muscles are tense under your touch. Keeping a hand on him, you lean away to take in his suit. “You clean up nicely, you know.”

He clears his throat and quickly nods. “y-you-” His voice cracks. “You- too..! How uh.. how’s… things..?” You cock your head to the side and finally move both hands to your glass. Leaning against the wall beside him, you start pinching and toying with those damned pearls, again.

“It’s fine. I’m getting a lot of attention.. which is a good thing, I guess? It’s just not exactly what I’m used to.” You say softly. He finally looks at your face, your eyes looking a bit tired. It’s clear you’re pushing yourself through this night. A bit of guilt strikes him, not exactly thinking of this sort of thing when putting the whole ball together. “but! It's still fun! It’s just like those books I was telling you about! That wasn't on purpose, was it?” You tease.

He responds with a nervous laugh, high-pitched and cracking. “M-Maybe, maybe not..”

You chuckle and immediately calm in his presence. With the bustling crowd in front of you, you can’t even tell how stressed Lucifer is.

“Hey.” just that word alone, leaves Lucifer weak in the knees. “This was never something I thought I’d be into.. but it’s actually a lot of fun. I didn't think I’d enjoy such a big crowd, but.. I do. I feel more confident after these past few months. Because of exercises- and Charlie. And because of you, too.” You smile down to him, a bit more of a distance than before due to the heels. “s-so.. thank you, for that.. I guess that’s all I'm trying to say.”

“Of course.” He says softly. Looking into your eyes calms him from his entire ordeal. Those eyes are yours. And no one else's. You’re the first one to notice the next song dying down.

“Would you.. want to dance?” You ask shyly. Your pink cheeks still show over your makeup. Lucifer musters the best smile he can. Offering out his hand, you take it a bit too eagerly.

On the dance floor, the song seems a bit slower than the last. You keep your grip on his previously offered hand, and place your other on his shoulder. He lets out a shaky breath, his free hand fidgeting a bit.

“Are you okay?” You lean down to ask in a hushed tone. He quickly nods, hesitantly placing his hand on your waist. What used to be a common occurrence, dancing in his workshop, left him gasping for air. Without those few drinks in his system, he’s sure he would've passed out by now. “Mm.. Good.” You smile and stand straight again, bringing your bodies closer.

You’re looking down most of the time, watching his feet and attempting to follow suit. He catches your focused expression every now and then and finally can't help but laugh quietly.

“Here, try this.” in a few quick motions, he’s reaching his arm up and out, sending you for a quick spin before bringing you back in. You’re giggling, your nerves easing. He’s adjusted your positions, bringing both hands around your waist. You instinctively pull both arms around his shoulders. “Better?”

He watches your eyes widen, as you assess the new stance. Despite the intimacy, it is in fact easier to follow along this way.

“B-better.” You say under your breath.

With the silence between you both, Lucifer is begging his mind to focus on the music, and not on your scent or your little heartmelting remarks. And a small part of him needs to examine your face, take in its details, to remind himself who he’s with right now.

The music stops, and you’ve linked your hands together behind him, looking down to see his sweet smile. It’s silent, the band taking a moment to begin the next song. Lucifer’s hands relax, dropping from the tight grip on your waist to your hips, then just slightly running his fingers across the slit on your dress unknowingly. You yelp, leaning away from him. He does the same, only now realizing the contact to your bare skin he had made. He’s suddenly red all over.

“O-oh, it was an accident, I-I wasn’t trying to- I’m sorry, are you-”

“Would you happen to be available for the next dance, darling?” Alastor butt's his way in, standing at your side and offering his hand out. He’s dressed up a bit as well, a fancy-looking suit with a long tail coat. It's still in that tacky red color, though. Lucifer groans.

“Oh! Sure-” You take hold of Alastor’s hand, and Lucifer hates that he can notice the size difference. His long fingers curl around your delicately gloved hand. “don’t worry about before, Lucifer, it was an accident, I know. I’ll find you after this dance?” You reassure him.

Lucifer nods, looking over to see Alastor’s wicked grin.

Oh, that piece of-

“Sure! I’ll be around if you want me! if you- need- I'll.. be over there.” Lucifer blurts out and struggles. The next song begins, and you’re skillfully wicked away by the radio demon.

-

Part of the renovated hotel gave a nearby balcony to the lobby, which was also decorated for the event. Lucifer needed air desperately. He's standing at the railing, looking to the town and fidgeting with his wedding band he hadn't dared to take off in thousands of years. he’d barely noticed its presence until recently.

He's thinking of you.

Thinking about your smile and the shine in your eyes. How excited you get about fantasy and fiction, and how you would go on and on about your books to him. He's thinking about how soft your hands always seem to be, and how desperately he wants to be held by you. To feel your lips on his-

“Lucifer?” He jumps at the sudden intrusion of his name, yet again.

“Ha! You gotta stop sneaking up on me like that!” He wheezes out, turning awkwardly to lean on the railing.

“I've.. been trying to get your attention for a few minutes now.” You say, with a hint of concern.

“Oh.. sorry.”

“Are you really okay? I'm sure the ball was a big deal, but is there.. something else?” You place your hands against the railing, standing beside him. “Because I.. I would like to think you’re my friend after all this, and if there's anything I can do to help-”

You place a hand on his shoulder and he jolts away from your touch. “Lucifer, what's wrong?”

“Nothing- nothing! It's.. the ball! you're right. It's been.. a lot of work, but as long as you're enjoying it, that's all that matters!” He says his words faster than he can properly think of them.

“if you say so.. and I am enjoying it, it's almost perfect.” You hope to reassure him, since you can't get a straight answer from him.

“Almost, huh? What could've made it better?” He relaxes a bit, turning back around to lean on the railing beside you.

“If I.. well, I guess I need to admit something.”

Oh no.

“No time like the present, right? Who knows when I'll be redeemed, so.. I should get it off my chest-”

No no no no-

“Lucifer, I.. think I-”

Before you can get another word in, he’s pulled you down by your wrist and pressed your lips against his. He muffles a yelp from you, and you're immediately melting into his touch. His own eyes flutter shut, yet he hesitates to place his hands on your waist. You catch a glimpse of it briefly, taking his wrists and gently bringing his palms flush against your waist, which he comfortably takes.

You pull away to see a gasping, heated, mess, who's hands are flexing against your sides. You chuckle and brush your fingers through his hair.

“Breathe, Lucifer.” You purr into his ear.

He immediately reels away from your touch, his hands held on either side of his head.

“I can't! Nope! This won't work! It just- w-won't- I-I cant-” Feeling a sudden guilt that you may have gone too far, you carefully take his wrists and pull his hands away from his hair that he had nearly pulled out.

“I'm sorry, I didn't mean to pressure you into it, if you don't feel-”

“I'm in love with you.” He says quickly. Despite the confusion you're feeling, your heart rate quickens. You can't help but feel elated that he's returning your feelings you didn't even get to confess yet.

“But, I just can't! You look- you're too- I thought if I just-” He lets out another frustrated groan. You take a risk and kiss his cheek. It works. A little.

“I know you haven't been in Hell for very long and you may not notice it- Hell, you might have looked completely different on Earth!” His tone goes chipper for a moment, hoping that might be the case.

“Not.. especially?” You tilt your head in confusion. Well, that doesn't help. He scoffs and runs his hand back through his hair.

“You are.. strikingly similar… to the queen.” He says incredibly soft.

The queen.. of Hell?

So, his-

“Oh. Oh! I'm so sorry, I-” 

“You shouldn't apologize for how you look, dear, that's not..” He sighs between his words. “That's not fair. None of this is fair.”

You're both seated at the bench facing out to the city. The quiet hum of the music from the lobby carries over to the balcony.

“So.. you said you are in love with me?” You're the first to break the silence.

“W-well, yes. At least, I thought so, until I realized-”

“When did you notice? About my.. looks?”

“Uhm just tonight. your dress… is similar to something she'd wear.”

You nervously run your hands along the dress, suddenly feeling a bit self-conscious in it.

“And.. when did you realize your feelings?”

“I think.. I started feeling something that one night.. in the kitchen?” He plays with the hem of his corseted vest as he speaks. You nod him along. “W-when you said my name..?”

You let out a little hum, like you were more than satisfied with the answer.

“What do you like about me?” You add on, turning to look at him. “Lucifer?”

He shudders at his own name, knowing damn well you did that on purpose.

“Y-You're kind-hearted.. and you're very passionate about literature and even help with my paperwork sometimes so you're- you’re selfless and funny and you can handle all my jokes, which is quite a task, I'll tell you now-” you laugh a bit in response. “And your laugh.. is amazing. Your voice, obviously. And your eyes.. you're beautiful.”

This was all meant to be an effort to calm him down. To have him talk through this panic attack, But you found yourself completely in awe of what he said.

“W-Well.. none of that has to do with my appearance, does it?” A moment of clarity for the both of you, Lucifer meets your eyes.

And they're not Lilliths'.

Of course, they’re not.

They're yours.

He leans in a bit, taking his hand and placing it over yours. You look down quickly at his touch, then back to his face. It takes mere seconds for his lips to meet yours for a second time. It's less frantic this time.

More sure.

Placing a hand on his cheek, he's leaning into your touch, tilting his head to lock your lips together even deeper.

You can taste the alcohol on each other's breath with each passing moment. In an unthoughtful moment, you lick along his lips. His hand grips yours a bit tighter, and he’s parting his lips, allowing you to freely explore his own mouth. How you manage to wrestle with his tongue and keep it as tender as possible still baffles him.

Pulling away to breathe on occasion, you take every chance you can to whisper out his name. And each time, he responds with a quiet whimper, almost buckling down into your arms after a while. You take his hands, bringing them to your waist. He immediately takes notice, pulling you closer from the small of your back. He's a bit stronger than you anticipate, almost losing your composure, you take hold of his top for some stability.

He leans into your chest, raking his fingers up and down your exposed back from the low cut of the dress. His mind is clouded. His thoughts stuck on the way your skin is warm to the touch, despite the cool night time breeze hitting you.

You're perfect.

You're perfect.

You're-

“L-Lucifer-” You squeak out.

He reels away to look at you, panting heavily. Your lipstick is thoroughly smudged across your lips. And his, for that matter.

“I'm sorry, are you okay?” He asks timidly. You nod as the two of you adjust any clothing or hair that had come undone in the process. You run your hands through his locks, attempting to fix what you had been gripping at so desperately moments ago. He's straightening out his top as you do so. He snaps his fingers finally, cleaning his face from any lipstick entirely. And neatening yours in the process.

“Wh- why didn't you do that in the first place?” You smack his chest with a huff.

“I like it when you fix my hair.” You roll your eyes and he only chuckles, wrapping his arms back around your waist to plant a quick kiss to your cheek. “You’re too good to me.” He says softly.

“Mhm- Ah, by the way-” You take a hold of his cheeks and plant a heavy kiss on his lips, only recreating a deep stain. His lashes flutter a bit at the bold interaction, hazy eyes barely able to meet yours. “I love you, too.”

You.

I love you.

♡♡♡

So like.. I was brainstorming for this prompt and I thought "You know who else has Hella hourglass figure?"

Lillith! Surprise! Get traumatized, Lucifer! Huzzah!

Taglist:

( @vififofum / @thornwolfy235 / @tinywolfiegirl / @chipper-chip / @bat-boness / @misfitgirlwrites / @nayomi247 / @lonelynmisunderstood / @escapistoftherealworld / @b4ts1e / @hamthepan / @kyo-kyo1 / @looking1016 / @polytheatrix / @littledolly2345 / @lillianastuff / @yourlocalcryptidbee / @0strawberrysorbet0 / @themageofblood / @jayyyayaysblog / @floralsightings / @azmosposts / @8har0ley8 / @actuallyspiderwoman / @sirenetheblogger / @christineblood / @kaytemchugh / @cimadreamer / @simpdevil66 / @m3ow1 / @acrazyartist / @redfoxwritesstuff / @4k1to / @meesachan / @corvusskid / @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx / @alon3lylov3r / @sapphireravensworld / @mjmdragons / @catticora / @carrie0-1 / @shamblezzz / @cassandras-nest / @the-maladaptive-daydreamer /@str4wberry-t00th-anon / @voxrei / @raythegay / @whoknowswhoiamtoday )

[cheonstapes]

jjk men star in... 'IF YOU SEEK AMY' ( ˘ ɜ˘) ♬♪♫

a/n ~ i was listening to if you seek amy on repeat yesterday and was like omg what if i wrote abt that! music is my biggest inspo and i thought jjk guys would go best w this song~

summary; the men of jujutsu kaisen with a pretty, little, popstar.

wc; 1.2k+

pairings; various jjk men x fem!popstar!reader

cw; suggestive, descriptions of sex, oral sex, obsessive behaviour, reader getting harassed, hating, toji beats someone up for you💗, dirty gojo, NANAMIN!!!!, jjk men being supportive, reader is basically beyonce reincarnated, nawt proofread - been writing this all day

gojo as - the boyfriend

even if gojo was a hotshot sorcerer, constantly on the move, he always found time to admire his pretty little pop star girlfriend. front row tickets to all of your concerts, being the first one to buy your albums despite the fact that you always give him a copy way before it drops - he even had a hand in designing your merch, who knew your boyfriend was such a creative. he even has a fan account for you, with almost half a million followers, posting never before seen pics of you, cute ones of course - ones he’s taken of you. you don’t know about it, you don’t need to.  you especially don’t need to know about his other account, the one where he writes the filthiest stories about you. graphic descriptions about how well he would fuck you, how beautiful your body would look underneath him, the angelic moans you’d let out when he’d touch your gorgeous pussy. they’re all true, though, he is your boyfriend after all. people can write all the stories about you they want, but none of them truly know your body as well as gojo does.

nanami as - the manager

your manager, nanami, was pissed. pacing around his large office, growling down his phone at the poor lawyer on the other end - occasionally glancing at you as you sat quietly on the plush sofa, legs crossed as you scrolled through your phone. you weren’t happy though, scrolling through comments on your most recent posts. hate from insecure people who had nothing better to do with their lives was bearable - but now you had stalkers? these creepy ass guys who were constantly harassing you, threatening you, it was scary to say the least. you heard him slam the phone done onto the table, breathing slightly laboured in the midst of his anger. “i’ve dealt with those fuckers, they won’t bother you again sweetheart.” you smiled, it always calms him down whenever he sees your pretty smile. walking over to him, you hold his face in your hands, slowly leaning in to press a kiss on his soft lips, a hand running sensually down his broad chest over his dress shirt. “you always work so hard for me, babe. i think you deserve some lovin’ right now. just relax, ok?” having your man as your manager definitely comes with some perks, doesn’t it.

toji as - the bodyguard 

you loved attending events, getting to dress up with a team triple the size that you usually have was always such an experience. this time, the met gala was tomorrow and you couldn’t have been more excited. it was your third year in a row and each year your looks get better and better. this year, though? not even mystic meg could’ve predicted how utterly shit getting ready this year could’ve been. your dress, specially made for you by iris van herpen, was in ruins. they clearly didn’t do background checks on the people they had in your crew because he definitely wouldn’t have made it through in that case. a cute little intern, constantly singing praises of you, to your face at least. but he was plotting - coincidentally being placed in charge of taking care of your dress, and coincidentally blaming the heat gun for looking a little too much like a steamer. you were livid, and toji, your bodyguard, hated seeing you upset. he swore a zero tolerance policy for anyone who fucks with his little pop star, and that intern found out the hard way. you knew toji had some…unorthodox ways of dealing with things - not even phased when he comes back to you with dried blood staining his knuckles. only offering you a sexy grin and his arm, walking you back to the car to go pick up your new dress - “can’t wait to see what else they made ya princess, yer gonna be the most stunnin’ girl there.” 

geto as - the husband

geto made it very clear how much he hated going to these shows. he was only there for you, ignoring all the interviewers unless you were right there beside him, rejecting people left and right cause can they not see the goddess clinging onto his arm? but he did have to admit, he was a little excited this time around. a lot, actually, but if you knew that - he’d be at every award show from here on out. you’d been nominated for a grammy, artist of the year, and he was so, so proud of you. he held your hand tightly as they read out the nominees, thumb running along your knuckles. you always bite your lip when you were nervous, leg slightly jittery too, he couldn’t lie and say he wasn’t nervous too. the announcer pulled out the card, pausing for dramatic effect, before reading out - “and the grammy goes to…y/n! congratulations!” geto’s eyes widen as screams erupted from the crowd, standing up as he smiles brightly at you, kissing you deeply. your celebrity friends congratulating you as you walked passed, making sure to drag geto on stage with you as you made your speech. he knew you would win, obviously, that’s why he was so prepared. booking the most extravagant restaurant he could find, choosing a private room for the two of you to dine alone - and so no one disturbed you both when he was showing you just how proud of you he really was.

choso as - the fan

choso loved his job. working at the bar where celebs came to get absolutely wasted, he had so much shit to talk about after work. but what he didn’t expect was to see his favourite singer, you, actually walk in that night. it wasn’t a secret that choso was quite literally obsessed with you, always asking if anyone saw you at the bar when he wasn’t working, and if they did - get him an autograph or even a little shout out video. he would listen to your music on the way to work, scrolling through your instagram and taking screenshots of pics that could be potential new wallpapers. he thought you were the most beautiful thing on earth, even saving himself just in case he ever got a chance to be with you for even one night. wishes surely do come true, he couldn’t even find it in him to respond as he stared at your glossy lips, you were asking to buy a drink but he was only thinking about leaning over to bar and kissing you until you couldn’t breathe. “d-drink? oh, sorry, n-no problem!” he made a mental note of your drink, making sure it was the best you’ve ever had. he paused as you pulled out your card, stammering as he waved his hands frantically. “wait! it’s-it’s on the house. i’m a…i really like your music, it’s the least i can do.” you couldn’t help but giggle, he was cute, very cute. you didn’t point out that you can see your face on his home screen, only leaning across the bar to get closer. “you’re too sweet, but please, let me do something for you in return. it’s the least i can do.” he looks dumbfounded, opening and closing his mouth before saying, “j-just an autograph and a picture would do, if that’s ok.” 

he changed his wallpaper that same night, you on your knees slobbering over his virgin cock. he couldn’t wait to see you again, trailing a finger over the autograph you gave him, your number written right underneath. saving himself for you was so worth it.

-haha hehe haha ho

[kirain]

what do you think of this post about Gale? I saw it today and idk how to feel about it. h t t p s : // www. tumblr. com / galahadwilder / 741497332636467200

I couldn't disagree with it more, to be honest.

First of all, and I can't stress this enough, Mystra doesn't care about her followers. She cares about the state of the Weave and nothing more. If her followers don't worship her, if they're not useful to her, if they don't serve her purpose, they mean nothing to her. After she abandoned Gale, she had no interest in him until she realised she could use him to stop the Absolute—and she only wanted to stop the Absolute because it threatened the Weave. In general, Mystra doesn't care what people use magic for either, be it the most admirable heroics or the most depraved insanity you can imagine.

Case and point: Lorroakan. He is an arrogant wizard, far worse than Gale could ever hope to be, who uses magic for pure evil. When he beat Rolan, he undoubtedly used magic to do it. Do you think Mystra cared? Nope. You can help that nutjob achieve his goals, kill a demigod, turn him immortal, and give him free reign to abuse magic any way he wishes, but do you think Mystra cares? Nope. She doesn't. She doesn't care about people unless they benefit her. In fact, all three iterations of Mystra have a vast history of grooming, flat out 🍇, and the forced impregnation of unsuspecting mortal women. Despite being neutral good, Mystra is and has always been extremely vain, selfish, jealous, and problematic.

With that in mind, I'd like to break this post down piece by piece. Also, please be aware that when I use the word "you", I don't mean you specifically, anon. I'm more so addressing anyone who might be reading.

PS: Please no one harass this person's post. Their opinion is their own, and it's very respectful. At the end of the day, we're just talking about a video game.

Mystra didn't tell Gale not to juggle the torches. She didn't even tell him it was a torch. She let him go on believing it was a part of her missing Weave. Had she told him the truth, he would've stayed away. That's why he's so shocked in Act 3, when she finally reveals it's the Karsite Weave. He had no idea, and she likely never intended to tell him. She didn't before he went off in search of it, and she didn't the entire time he was locked away in his tower, scared and suffering. I can't for the life of me figure out why she wouldn't warn him, but I can only assume it's because she expected absolute obedience, or because she was getting bored of him and wanted him to mess up.

Whatever her reasons, she didn't tell Gale to leave the orb alone because he was "worthy" already. He clearly wasn't in her eyes, because he wanted her to see him as an equal. He wanted her to share her knowledge with him, which is perfectly fair in a healthy relationship. If you're dating a god and they treat you like a worshipper—that's all you are to them. A worshipper. A plaything. You're beneath them. You're unworthy. She told Gale to leave the orb alone because she wanted him to be complacent. She wanted to keep him in servitude. That's what she wants from all of her followers, though it's even worse when it's her lover.

In almost every story where a mortal loves a god, the mortal is either ascended into the heavens or the god gives up their divinity. And this isn't even specific to gods, but also vampires, werewolves, elves, and so on. Arwen, for example, gives up her immortality to be with Aragorn. Bella becomes a vampire to be with Edward. Hercules gives up his divinity to be with Meg. Elisa Esposito becomes aquatic to be with the creature. These are common tropes because it makes the couples equal.

Mystra contradicts herself by saying Gale was "always worthy", because her actions don't reflect it. He was a worthy distraction from her job, sure, but not worthy enough for her to treat him like an equal. So in order to prove it to her, to prove his love and devotion, he went after the one thing he knew she wanted—her missing Weave. Yes, she told him not to, and I agree he should've respected that, but this is on par with a woman telling her husband not to buy a bracelet she really, really wants because it's too expensive. If your husband worked extra hours and saved up enough to buy you that bracelet, would you divorce him?

Gale was completely unaware of the danger. He basically thought he was getting Mystra a bracelet. Had she taken the time to explain it to him, the whole catastrophe could have been avoided. He was just a hopeless romantic who wanted to surprise his girlfriend and prove he belonged at her side. The same girlfriend who very well could have made him her equal and shared her knowledge, but chose not to. Why? Because she's selfish. She didn't want an equal, she wanted a servant. We know this because, if you romance and ascend Gale, he will ascend you alongside him and give you your own domain! Mystra had the power to do this, or at least the ability to slowly ease him into it, but she refused. No matter how much he pleaded and proved his devotion to her, she refused.

Mystra did not save Gale when the orb embedded itself in his chest. He survived only because it fed on his gifts. He says as much, and so does she when you go to see her at the Temple. That's why, when we first meet him, he admits he used to be better at magic. He was once exceedingly powerful, but the orb basically knocked him down to level one. Mystra was perfectly happy to let him scramble to find items to absorb, knowing that he would inevitably run out and erupt. When we give him his third item in Act 1, the orb is becoming quenchless, and he knows his time is nigh. Mystra has nothing to do with satiating the orb until Act 2 and 3, and only because he becomes her wild card.

Gale: Mystra will consider forgiveness?

Elminster: She will consider ... what she considers to be forgiveness.

Even Elminster, her most faithful Chosen, knows her "forgiveness" isn't really forgiveness. It's an ultimatum. Do this for me and be welcomed into my hall, or die and literally go to hell. Why would Mystra make this offer? Well, because why else would Gale agree to kill himself only to end up in the Wall of the Faithless? How would that motivate him? Mystra didn't make this offer out of the kindness of her heart, she made it because she was desperate. Had the opportunity never presented itself, she would've let him die and suffer for all eternity, and possibly take hundreds of innocent people with him in the blast. She. Doesn't. Care. 🤷‍♀️

Now, one could argue Gale was asking for too much, but I'm going to have to call bullshit on that. First of all, Mystra showed him things no mortal has ever seen. It's only fair he'd want to share her world and learn as much as possible. Imagine if the Doctor from Doctor Who picked up some random people and took them on breathtaking adventures, but the audience got mad at them for wanting to see as much as they could. Amy, Clara, Rose, etc.—none of them could live a normal life after meeting him, and they wanted to learn as much about the universe as possible. But everyone loves those characters. They don't get mad. There's even several episodes where the companions call the Doctor out for not treating them as equals, and he admits he's wrong for doing that and adjusts his way of thinking.

I would argue that the only real divide between Mystra and Shar/Vlaakith is that Mystra doesn't inflict physical pain ... most of the time. That's it. Vlaakith and Shar only care about themselves and the effectiveness of their followers, but the exact same applies to Mystra. She is the Weave, and she only cares about the Weave; therefore, she only cares about herself. She had ample opportunity to help Gale or tell him the truth, but she didn't until it was convenient for her. The gods of D&D are basically the Greek Pantheon gods—a bunch of assholes toying with mortals, regardless of their alignment. The odd one is decent, but most are only out for themselves and their rule. Now, I will concur that Mystra is hardly the worst deity (in fact, she's unfortunately one of the better ones), but she's still not great and Gale is her victim.

To get a little controversial, I think the writers made a mistake. I know what they were going for, but I think they lost it along the way. At first, I was ready to stand with everyone and admit he belonged in the quintessential "overreaching wizard full of hubris" category, but upon researching the lore, getting to know Gale better, and doing several different playthroughs, I've come to vehemently disagree. First of all, before 5E (the current D&D edition), becoming a god was the ultimate goal for a lot of players, and that was perfectly acceptable, with many DMs providing celestial paths to make it possible. Moreover, many of the current gods were once human themselves, including Mystra!

Second, it's only hubris if you fail. Gale can ascend. He can succeed. Although it's not the canon outcome I would choose for him, he is right about the crown. He does his research and figures out how to reforge it. And he doesn't seek godhood to be worshipped, he seeks it to either free himself (and all mortals) from Mystra's chains, or for her to acknowledge and love him as an equal. His arrogance stems from insecurity; an insecurity Mystra herself planted and cultivated, and in the end he's not really arrogant atfter all. Does him wanting to be Mystra's equal make him selfish? Well, I suppose that depends on how you answer these questions:

Is your partner equal to you? If you don't think so, why are you leading them on? Why wouldn't you take steps to help them become your equal? Why are you holding them back instead of propping them up? If they show interest in your life, in your world, in the things you can do, why would you keep it to yourself, especially when you have the time and resources to share it?

Just some ambrosia for thought. 😉