#ideal of american man my ass

[ippokampos]

last year it was bergman girl summer, this year... hitchcock girl summer 😶‍🌫️🫣

[max1461]

Continuing on with my America/Europe dichotomy, and this one's gonna be a doozy. This one's for the real thinkers. Ok so basically, Americas are uh, patriarchal and Europes are Oedipal. Ok. Look. This one, right, you're really gonna have to follow me on this one.

Look. In America, right, we do the whole single family home, like, patriarchal homestead medieval Icelandic family farm thing, the man is in charge of the house, rugged individualism and/or suburbia. But it's patriarchal. American man goes out and gets a hot trophy wife, who looks good and bleach blonde hair and signifies "this man is a Real Man, cause he got a hot trophy wife". Wife is like a fast car, wife is like a ferrari you get, to show off. For the American man. Remember China is also an America. Chinese gucci fuckboy chainsmoking guy needs to own a house, he needs to own a house and make one bajillion dollars to land a Chinese beauty standards thin and swan-necked hot Chinese babe to go with his gucci and his car. JUST like American man. Remember that China only ever had one empress in its million year history. Patriarchal.

In a Europe, right, every man wants to fuck his mom. He just does, I've met European men. They all want to fuck their mom. Italian guys? Fuhgeddaboudit. His wife is NOT a trophy to show of to other guys. He will expect her to cook, clean, wipe his ass. And there's this reputation, I know because I have family members who habitually date European men, there's this reputation where they literally live with their mom who cleans their underwear until they move in with their wife and now she cleans his underwear and pops out sixteen Catholic children. Right? Europe is oedipal. Ancient multi-generational homes... it breeds wanting to fuck your mom wanting a fucking mom-wife. Japan has had nine empresses. Squarely a Europe.

This is the source of all the other differences. They don't mind reusing old bathwater in Japan for the same reason moms don't mind when their kids barf on them... in America we don't mind poisonous chemicals in our food because young men don't care about that kind of shit. This is the fundamental difference.

IDEAL state of affairs, ok, is to be born in a wild and crazy America such as America or China, or maybe Russia (edge case), and then move to a nice and peaceful Europe in adulthood. They're great at walkable cities and shit in Europes, they love that shit. Doing what mommy tells them. And as an American it's a breath of fresh air. But it's important to be born and raised over here, you see, so you have that fuck you attitude, so you don't want to fuck your mom. Have I ever told this story? My grandad ate rat poison once, when he was a kid in the great depression riding the rails. I'm not making this up. Apparently he ate so much that his body didn't even try to digest it and it went right through him. He was fine. 🇺🇸

[vonlipvig]

saw a post on r/oscarrace of a list of the best picture nominees ranked from gayest to straightest, and it wasn't ideal, so i'm doing my own LET'S GO

from gayest to straightest:

conclave: i don't care that there's a literal broadway musical adaptation on the list, this is the gayest movie of the year. it's catholic mean girls. it's st. paul's drag race. it's survivor: the vatican. it's pure reality tv competition realness, what's gayer than that. and of course, it's old man yaoi central. add to that the cuntiest vape hit of the year and isabella rossellini's diabolical curtsy, and you've got the gay holy scripture in your hands.

wicked: don't worry, i am holding space for queer media on this list. it's fucking wicked, bitch, of course it's gonna be up here. the queer desire to start belting defying gravity even though you definitely cannot sing cannot be overstated. and gelphie is like one of the founding mothers of f/f shipping, just you wait for next part when they sing for good. ariana grande is there. aaaAaaAaaaAAAAAA!

the substance: there's DIVAS, there's COMMENTARY ON FAME and BEAUTY STANDARDS and MISOGYNY, there's BUCKETS OF GORE, there's MONSTRO ELISASUE, there's ASS. the horror girlies are present this year and this movie is for us. demi moore we will get your that oscar.

dune part two: i did not watch dune part two but something tells me that i should put this one high. something about the combination of the social commentary it offers about religion and marginalized communities, and a twink becoming intoxicated with power and claiming to be the messiah or something. there's also zendaya, florence pugh, and rebecca ferguson serving face, so i'm all for it.

anora: i don't know if anora is super gay but i'm bisexual and i think mikey madison is so hot so that's gotta count for something. also anorawalking.gif is definitely gay culture at this point.

the brutalist: well. you know. but i mean, the mirage of the american dream and the voraciousness of capitalism are pretty gay topics, so yeah. also, adrien brody hot.

i'm still here: i have not seen this yet but this is a real story about a very dark time in brazil's history (and a lot of countries here in latin america), so i don't think we should joke about it much. that said, it is from brazil, and brazil is pretty fucking gay, so yeah. also, fernanda torres hot.

a complete unknown: haven't seen it either, and i don't know much about bob dylan, but he's a musician in the 60s, so i'm assuming something gay may happen. i just don't care about it so it's down here.

nickel boys: similar to i'm still here, very real story (well, inspired by real events, but you catch my drift) that i don't feel that comfortable joking about. the creative and innovative cinematography, tho? gay.

emilia pérez: this movie has a trans character, gay characters, gay sex off camera, and musical fucking numbers, but it still loops back around to being the straightest of all. point for the penis to vagina song cause it did become a little bit camp after all, but -1000 points for the frenchness of it all. watch johanne sacreblu for some real queer cinema.

[theshadowsingersraven]

so @gwyns (correctly, in my opinion) observed that e/riels are normies. i've also held this belief, as well as close friends of mine who have been in fandom and done things like RP'd on Tumblr, wrote/read fanfiction back in the day for things like Harry Potter, Percy Jackson, etc. And @tsundoku-life asked this brilliant question: do you think this was inevitable, with how the idea of fandom has become more widespread?

I am someone whose been here for a while. This has been my one and only mainblog through the literal upwards of a decade I've been in fandoms. This blog has seen me through Harry Potter phase, dips back into Naruto (where my crippling addiction to emo boys started, if you stanned Sasuke when you were 12 also, I see you and I love you) Superwholock phase, anime phase, Fire Emblem, etc.

And genuinely? Yes. I think so. If it wasn't ACOTAR, it probably would've been something else with equally as popular, or easily marketable aspects. However, I do think there is a unique aspect to Elain and purity culture that makes this debacle particularly irritating. Essentially, I'm "Yes, and"--ing this question.

So, I think the thing with Elain is that, to E/riels, she is counter-culture. She's unique, she's the refreshing "not like other girls" character because this genre, understandably, has a lot of female characters that are trained in combat, politically savvy/trained to be spies, or have skills in areas that would otherwise be considered traditionally masculine. Aelin, Bryce, Nesta, Feyre, Manon, Lidia, etc. are often highlighted as being people's favorites, and often times are in positions where they have to regularly take direct action to get the plot moving.

(However, to be fair to Elain, she has not gotten the benefit of rotating POV and therefore more reason to take action like the CC and TOG cast. She is still waiting in the wings for her moment, and I want to give her a fair shake here.)

While I would not say these female characters are traditionally masculine overall, or that their feminine traits should be dismissed, if we're comparing on a scale of 1-10 (1 being most traditionally feminine and least masculine and 10 being most vice-versa), they are all closer to 10 than Elain is, if that makes sense.

However, if we step back and look at least American society overall (I can only speak to my experience, ofc), characters like Elain are the ideal. Traditional femininity, despite how it's also demonized, it's still "correct" to patriarchal society. And with the rise of conservatism everywhere and prevalence of purity culture, Elain is the perfect fictional sword to fall on to further conservative ideology. No one is immune to propaganda, but I don't think it's a coincidence that Elain having such overlap in purity culture via E/riel ship dynamics (she's so pure/perfect/untainted and she'll "save" him, etc.) and her traditionally feminine hobbies that tend to misalign with adventure/fantasy as a genre (you can look at how people treat Sansa from GoT, for example), can appeal to a more conservative mindset.

The poor, overhated, down-trodden female character that just wants to be feminine and refuse the role of a mate in a sea of "masucline" female characters kicking ass, taking names, and falling in love with their fated mates.

I don't think anything sounds more like a conservative woman daydream than that, tbh.

Conservatism thrives on the belief (mistaken one at that) that they're the underdogs, that they're counter-culture in this zeitgeist when in reality...they're just not central focus in a particular format or setting. It's hard not to notice the massive overlap in the love for E/riel, the E/riel version of Elain, and the current rise of conservative values. I don't think it's a coincidence at all that these all interplay. Does that mean that all Elriels are conservative? No, definitely not. I won't pretend to know their values, and I'm sure they believe that their insistence on a ""woman not owing a man anything"" actually applies to Elain directly without the nuance the subject requires (you know, about fiction and depiction versus endorsement, what it means to have a soul bond to someone, how fate is something SJM uses regarding mates and what it means to avoid something inevitable, etc).

But I do think said massive overlap is worth examining and does require critical thought. There's nothing wrong with liking Elain in the first place. I do, too. But I think the reasons why people like Elain and how those certain things can be weaponized against other people are uniquely conservative-coded when it comes to Elriels and their interpretation. Recognizing these overlaps isn't about policing who likes what but about being aware of how broader societal values influence our consumption and interpretation of fiction. E/riels will be the first to point out the "misogyny" in Elucien and that "fiction affects reality" (a statement that can and often times is true, but is irresponsible to use in a blanket statement without examining the subject in nuance), but they ignore the other side of this coin that reality also affects fiction.

[magg0t-king]

Yo! So I saw your OC Tony awhile back, and I just really wanna learn more about that him.

Any specific headcanons for him?

GRAAAAHHH TY FOR ASKING ABOUT HIM (Keep them questions comin'!!/hj?)

uhh... CW'S: Idk.. Butchie? Horrorporn quick mention. I guess home life mention? Nothing bad ig. There's no actual explicit or NSFW stuff in here. Maybe a joke or two, but these are mostly silly stuff. Might wrote more about him later

🫁To start, his childhood wasn't shitty, but it wasn't great yknow? The good ol' toxic masculine dad and busy yapping mom. Plus being bullied wasn't the most ideal.

🫁 Believe it or not, this man DID IN FACT graduate from med school with an MD (A doctor of medicine (MD) is a physician who has earned a medical degree and is qualified to treat patients).. Thus meaning that this man can legally perform surgeries!!! He's not stupid, just a creep.

🫁His favorite game series us Postal, def in the top 5% for playing the game the most. Dirty Dangles (P4 brain damage) is his ringtone.

🫁Does this man take abuse? No. Despite obviously being totally frraky in da sheets with butchie, TONY THROWS THEM PUNCHES BACK! Lovingly... Sorta.

🫁Also he and Butchie aren't dating. It's like a fwb kind of situation... Sorta... They go to concerts together.

🫁His 'voice claim' (or whatever) is Billy Ray Stillwell from Twisted Metal Black, a good ol' southern boy. (this guy btw)

🫁He's pretty loaded from his work. Physician during the day, Horror pornstar at night, illegal body mods on the weekends! Reow!

🫁 He knows how to use a shotgun. Don't undermine his skills.

🫁As said in a few posts ago, he shares an apartment with Pete... Which it's not exactly the most ideal living situation, but hey- it works... Kinda!

🫁Does he have a dog? No. Cat? Nuh uh. A pet fish??? Hell no!... THIS MAN HAS A FUCKING KING COBRA AS A PET! It eats the apartments rats and likes sleeping beside him. The cobras name is Daria.

🫁This mans immune system is so damn high... Give him syphilis and he'll be as good as new within half a week! Can't handle his shrooms tho sooooooooooo...

🫁Tonys favorite horror movie is actually American Mary! Tame, bloody, and totes girl boss.

🫁He likes My little pony because it's the only animated series to catch his short lived attention.. Rainbow dash jar?? WHAT-

🫁This man isn't a short twink. Hes a 6'3, sweaty texan who has a huge love for gar and ugly ass fish.

🫁Butchie went to his med school graduation. That's all I'm gonna say.

🫁Uhhhhhhhh..... Idk. Tony has a janky ass lowrider. Like- the AC sucks, the radio is shit, and it smells like gas station pizza all the time... But it gets the job done.. And it can go duper fast!!!! Vrooooooom!!!

🫁Please ask Tony about MLP or Postal. He hyperfixates SOOO HARD on those.

🫁Certified drum player!!

🫁He loves old PS2 games...

🫁ALSOALSOALSOALSO- Did I mention that he can to a successful backflip??? Yeah eltingville ocs... Beat that! 🙄/j

[mama-qwerty]

Okay, I'm gonna get political here.

I've been seeing some alarming posts going around, in which people seem to think that Biden is somehow as bad as, or worse than, Trump. And a lot of the reasoning seems to come down to how he's dealing with Israel. He's not doing enough to stop Israel and is actively supporting them. Which, he has to, because the US is Israel's ally.

Is it ideal? Is it great? NO. It absolutely sucks, and we really should not be involved, and be doing more to stop them.

But that seems to be the single issue most people mention when talking about not voting for him. And my question to them is, do you seriously think Trump will handle it any better??

And let's put Palestine aside right now. I know it's terrible, I know it's my privilege to look away for a moment, but I implore you, I fucking BEG you to remember that the US president affects laws and policies here, which affects each and every American who lives here.

This post lists, in a convenient little checkbox format, what each candidate is for and against. As you can see, Trump will support Israel, too. Moreso than Biden. But he will also remove rights and destroy protections for countless other groups.

Both candidates are absolutely NOT THE SAME. Biden, while not perfect, has done a lot of good for the country, it's just not reported because negative things get more views than positive. He had A LOT of cleanup to do after Trump finally dragged his ass out of the White House. And he's done what he could.

I get that Biden isn't ideal. He's not who I would want, either. But he's the Democratic candidate, and we absolutely cannot afford to "send Washington a lesson" by abstaining or voting third party. We are a two party system, and with Trump on the ballot, we cannot, CAN FUCKING NOT afford to split our forces.

Every Republican will be out in droves, casting their vote for Trump. One vote for a third party candidate, is a vote for Trump. If you do not vote for Biden, you are essentially handing Trump the victory.

This country will not survive another Trump presidency.

I sincerely believe that. The damage he did the first time around was bad enough, when he didn't know what he was doing. But now? Now he's had 4 years to scheme and plot and work behind the scenes with his cronies so that when/if he gets back into office, he can go all in on gutting the government, stacking the Supreme Court, enacting whatever laws he likes, and simply declaring himself dictator and never leaving office again.

And the Republicans will help him.

Every one of those spineless bootlickers will be trailing behind him, nodding like a fucking bobblehead, agreeing with whatever asinine idea tumbles out of his third grade brain.

"For the good of the country," they'll cry, as they gut support for the poor.

"For the helpless little babies," they'll weep, eliminating health care services for women and removing any help for families.

"Make America Great Again," they'll chant as they send the military to drag children away from parents and lock them in cages because they dared come to the US--a country that was founded on the backs of immigrants--for a better life.

Republicans only care about keeping themselves rich and in power. They don't care about the poor. They don't care about women or minorities or LGBTQ+ rights. They don't care about YOU. They only care about themselves. They've proven it time and time again, yet they always try to convince their base that it's really the Democrats and radical Left who are the bad guys. Because they constantly want to *checks notes* make sure people are safe, healthy, and cared for.

And that's not the America the Republicans want.

I am begging all US voters to look past Palestine, for just a moment, and realize that choosing the wrong man in November will have very, very, VERY long lasting repercussions for this country. We can't afford to "send a message". We can't afford to simply not vote. We can't afford to throw out the old "they're all the same" line.

THEY'RE NOT.

Please, please, please. Think about the people who will be hurt under another Trump administration. Think of those who will lose their support, lose their aid, lose their protections. Think of those who can't protect themselves.

The only message we need to send to Washington this November is NOT TRUMP. NEVER TRUMP.

[momokarp]

Heyyyy I saw your Danny Phantom comic about him reading the Great Gatsby during the fight with Vlad (great art btw), and I was wondering if u could give a long-suffering student a rundown of the themes?

I’m gonna cover the themes I can think of off the top of my head and if you really need me to go into more details, I CAN??? But this is just a quick “it’s 7 in the morning for me and I’m actually gonna hyperfixate real quick” kinda moment.

Yes, there are two kinds of rich people, and yes, one side really doesn’t like the other. It’s apparent in Tom and all of his opinions of Gatsby are later on in the book when he finally attends one of his fancy parties.

Old money gets their opinions and styles and tastes from their parents who got it from their parents. It’s a boys club, if you’re in? You’re in, and it’s hard to get in unless you’re of a certain pedigree.

New money? Loud. Outrageous. Doesn’t even know what to do with all that money and everyone is welcome to enjoy it. Gatsby owns a BRIGHT ASS YELLOW CAR not because it’s of a certain model but because it screams loud and expensive and “look at me” and it’s not just cause he’s trying to get with your wife. He knows how to ACT like old money, to a certain degree, but at the end of the day, he can’t hide that he wasn’t born into it.

An unreliable narrator is usually a story told from a first person point of view and their own biases can often warp the reader’s perspective on the events unfolding. Nick even tries to clarify that he doesn’t judge people. Yeah, OUT LOUD, but he’s judging internally. Which is making you, the reader, judge. Tom has an affair with Myrtle Wilson. Nick IS quietly judging them although he tries not to and how could he not? Daisy is his cousin, and he sees the man she’s married make her move away from Chicago and Tom is not hiding his affair very well, she clearly knows about it and hates it.

Oh but here comes Gatsby, with this beautiful story of how he fell in love and went to war and couldn’t be with her and came back and she’s MARRIED and now he’s trying to win her back- and Nick HELPS HIM. THAT’S NOT UNBIASED. HE IS SWAYED. He sides with Gatsby through and through, even when he starts to see the flaws in Gatsby’s vision, he wants to cheer for him.

We’re going back to the green light here for a minute. Gatsby gets a house DIRECTLY ACROSS the lake from where Daisy’s is. There’s the green light at the end of her dock that flashes, that’s a reminder to Gatsby when he looks out that his dream is just over there. Daisy, the perfect gal, along with acceptance into the fancy rich lifestyle. He wants to meet her parents, he wants to have kids with her, he wants to be a somebody, an established respectable person.

But he’s kind of fooling himself too. He wants too much. It’s not enough to have Daisy, she needs to RENOUNCE her ever loving Tom and then properly marry him. He wants to be a part of the boy’s club, but Tom finds out that he has gained his wealth through the mafia and that’s not very respectable! He wants Daisy to call him in the morning, a call that never comes because she won’t cast aside her lifestyle for him. She was raised to trust and live in the sheltered life she was brought up in, even if she’s unhappy. It’s safer than the unknown. She chooses to stay with Tom, as even she realizes she can’t live up to Gatsby’s ideals.

It’s ironic cause this is the Oxford English Dictionary definition and Gatsby is an “Oxford Man!” Not only has Gatsby idealized on the American Dream, but it’s a dream that was never real. Yes, he did get rich, but not because he had equal opportunities. He got lucky to help out an old rich man on his boat (WHICH HE DIDNT EVEN GET ANY MONEY FROM) to learn the rich social skills, and he worked with the mafia to get all his wealth. Yes, he got Daisy, but not REALLY. He had an affair with her. They didn’t marry properly, didn’t have kids, didn’t move in together. And Daisy never intended on doing any of these things. She wanted to run away.

And Gatsby was never going to get these things because he wasn’t BORN rich. Tom represents the concept of Old Money so well not only in how he lacks any genuine character that isn’t inherited from his father, but how protective he is of keeping the status quo, so that he remains in power and no one who doesn’t fit the club can come in.

And Gatsby pays the price of his affair while Tom gets away with everything. How is this the American Dream? It isn’t.

Okay, that’s my stuff. I can go into symbolism on the yellow car and big billboard and all that other stuff if this was helpful at all. I hope it is helpful???

[more-than-tender-curiosity]

I know Jay has a history withDan Cody but I cannot for the life of me remember much about that man other than the fact that he died at see. If that is true, would Jay, after acquiring wealth, make a tombstone for him? Place flowers and such? Or would he bury that part of him. The past of him and Dan Cody?

Putting this under readmore because it's gonna be a doozy. Spoilers for Gatsby as well

Okay so. One thing I will remind you of is that Jay never really intended for anyone to know about Dan. His only remnant of the man is that one photograph and he hung it up on the wall in his bedroom, where I'm sure he never expected anyone to see it, at least not to a point where he'd have to explain. I don't think Jay was exactly bringing home anybody to his bedroom (until he got back with Daisy, of course)

Remember when Jay had Nick and Daisy over, and they noticed the photo of Dan (and the one of Jay from the same time), he brushed over it pretty fast. Told Nick that Dan used to be 'his best friend' and that he was dead now, and the moment Daisy latched on to that, he instantly distracted her with his weird ass scrapbooks. It wasn't until after everything blew up in his face that Jay told Nick, and only Nick, about everything.

Obviously for Gatsby I explore their relationship much further. I personally believe (through my years of research into Jay's characterization through the various drafts of this book and the original version of Absolution where it becomes clear that men of a certain persuasion think very much of Jay's good looks, even when he was too young to be viewed as attractive to any healthy person.

Dan was of course an unhealthy man. We know for a fact that he was an alcoholic, and that he was violent but Jay had put it past him/possibly forgiven him if not simply tucked the trauma away so he didn't have to inspect it (chapter nine, "...only the picture of Dan Cody, a token of forgotten violence, staring down from the wall.") That particular quote could simply refer to the violence of the Old West that Dan brought with him, but given again Absolution and Jay's constant involvement with powerful, violent older men, and his desperate pursuit of a woman like Daisy who he presumed to be soft and sweet and totally unable to hurt him, (thus making the irony of the situation that much worse when she contributes however unintentionally to his death) I believe it also refers to the violence Dan inflicted upon Jay during those five years aboard the Tuolomee.

Obviously I have my own opinions about things like Jay's sexuality and why he was so twisted up and obsessive and desperate. Much of what I believe is taken directly from fact and stretched out through interpolation of those facts, looked through a modern lens to an image of masculinity in the years Fitzgerald wrote the books. I think Jay was gay, slipped himself into a sexuality of convenience to further his ideal of a Perfect American Man, and had his wires crossed by his father's behavior so that he searched out a father that loved him—only to be met with another monster who only saw value in him when he gave up his own humanity.

Dan was, of course, that monster. In Gatsby, once we get to 1922, Jay will be wholeheartedly unable to confront the true nature of his relationship with that man. He spent so long believing it was purely romantic and that he had 'cured' Dan of his alcoholism by being good and loving someone who needed to be loved just like he did (with that notion of reciprocating saviorship following him through every other failed relationship not just through Daisy—trying to save her from having to be married off to someone she doesn't love but really just trying to undo the fact that that had, in a way, been done to him—but even to Nick, who is so unable to face himself until, possibly, when it's too late and Jay is dead) that by then, after so many years of his notion of love being clouded by want of Daisy, he's constantly on the cusp of admitting to himself that Dan abused him and he'd 'submitted to it' but he cannot fully accept that fact because if Dan didn't love him, and Daisy doesn't love him, and Nick never will—why the fuck is he even bothering?

Dan has a monument. A beautiful one, actually. A big marble tomb on the grounds of the home he used to share with Ella Kaye, bounded on each side by young willows and seasonal flowers and a plaque written by the woman who would have been his wife. The woman who killed him. Jay got to visit it just once, and spoke with Ella about what happened and why she took Dan from him, and he doesn't want to understand her reasoning because then he has to admit that he had it infinitely worse than her and never had the guts to admit it to himself. Never did anything about it. That tomb—it's a monument to his cowardice, to every opportunity he passed up in his desperation to find someone who loved him.

The photo is enough. Dan still shares a room with him just like he's still there in every 'old sport' and he's always there with his hands on Jay's shoulders any time he goes out on the hydroplane. Some things never change. Jay never stops being 17 and desperate. Nothing went wrong.

The photo is enough.

...

Also, Dan didn't die at sea. He died in Boston, likely either onboard the Tuolomee in the Harbor or, as I assumed, in the city, and Jay wasn't informed because no one knew Dan had left anyone but Ella behind.

[tipigirlng]

you are the role of the König girl

This is my first work so please don’t judge too much ++ this is all translated with the help of a Google translator and in English like a dumb American child

I'm sorry if you see König differently than I do, I see him as a normal person, let's say not with bipolar disorder whose mood and character changes depending on the essence of the fic

.......

he hugs you a lot despite the fact that he is a huge bulk, and your difference in height is large, if not huge, and you two like it

If we talk about König hugs, they are very comfortable, warm, and gentle

he hugs you very tenderly and affectionately, despite the fact that he is a fighter and is taller and bigger than you very much

breakfasts in the morning; if you don’t know how to cook, then he is simply the ideal of everything, he will cook for you for the rest of your life, every morning you wake up not from something loud or anything else, but from the aromatic smell of coffee and your breakfast. König especially likes to cook food from Austria, namely national food so you can try it. he will be in 7th heaven if you eat this in 1 second

tender kisses; I don't see König as an altfa male or a person who 😐, although König has a complex because of his height and perhaps his appearance, despite this you love to kiss his face, starting from his forehead to his chin, and the same works in your direction , he likes to kiss your face, hands and other parts of the body, especially if you are not confident in yourself, then he is ready to kiss you all over

jealousy; I don’t see König being jealous, if that’s the case, then yes, he will be jealous, to get the stupid man off you, all he needs to do is put his hand on your waist or kiss the top of your head.

he won't be jealous of you towards the other guys in the squad or towards your or his friends.

as we know, König is a social phobe, and all this happened due to childhood trauma, and the question is how he behaves with you in public, does he kiss you, does he take your hand? yes, he is embarrassed, maybe he is not so confident in himself, but he is working on himself and every day it becomes easier for him to take your hand, kiss you in front of someone

I also think that he is very loud when he is comfortable with someone, like in the game he often shouts something, and therefore I think that he is quite loud and he is not an introvert (?)

....

I hope you liked it I have no ideas, so I'm a lazy ass, for some reason when I was writing about breakfast, I remembered how I woke up a friend with a stale omelette that burned 10 times, and now I almost burned the house down to live with it

[chirpingfromthebox]

Me just thinking out loud and inarticulately trying to wrap my head around my thoughts on the simmering dumpster fire that is my hometown team. Feel free to scroll on by.

I feel like something missing from a lot of the Curl discussion is the context it all happened in. Lots of articles and posts make it seem like the problem fans have is just that Curl got drafted at all. And I think the context around it all matters.

The league shit canned Natalie Darwitz days before the draft, wouldn't say why, acted like they aren't saying anything because they want to respect Darwitz, but meanwhile Darwitz seems like she would LOVE to talk about the situation.

To make matters worse there's all this talk and speculation surrounding the role Klee had in this, and amongst that he goes to the draft table with the emptiest table of any team, drafts Curl in the second round, (you can tell the league already was ready for bad fallout from Curl because they had a prepared statement locked and loaded to go out in the youtube chat seconds after it happened), and then Klee IMMEDIATELY makes things worse by purposefully staging her draft photo to be taken with St. Paul's mayor Melvin Carter (a black man) and the assistant coach (a queer woman).

Then Klee, the team, and the league decide to handle the fallout from everything in the most half-assed tone-deaf manner possible.

Before the Darwitz debacle I had mentally prepared myself for the eventuality that someone would draft Curl. But I had prepared myself for someone doing it in the back half of the draft.

A team would get her, but at least it would suggest Curl's actions had lowered her value considerably in teams' eyes.

Like, none of the craziness happened, and Darwitz had drafted Curl in the 5th or 6th round, made a proper acknowledgement of the situation and their plan for moving forward, and Curl had made an apology video that was written by someone who didn't go to the American Political School of Empty Statements?

I think the community could understand. We wouldn't love it, but we could live with it. It would be like seeing a big spider in the corner of my ceiling: I certainly don't like it, and I'm gonna keep my eye on this, but as long as it doesn't step to me any further we'll be alright.

But that's not what happened. And that's not how it happened.

And I'm still not sure what to do with my Minnesota fandom at this point.

At the moment I'm waiting to see what the final team looks like. If they re-sign their queer players I'm willing to put in the work to fight against Mr. Potato Head's attempts to sabotage my team, and try to at least make the fan community as welcoming and inclusive as possible.

But if Klee and co. don't bring back Minnesota's queer players? Then I'm out. For the good of my own mental health I'll go support a different team until they can get their shit together.

Because I do believe that people can change. Especially people in their 20s who were dumb-ass ignorant assholes in college. And she's not my main problem. My main problem is what does this team and this league want to be? Because someone like Curl coming into a queer positive environment is one thing. But her coming into a place with nothing but conservative ideals and a pinkwashed door? That's something else entirely.

And if the people at the top are going to fire the woman who built the team, put a dude in charge, give a person with a history of supporting bigoted ideas a position of influence, and become the only team in the league without any queer players?

And then have the gall to claim to be an inclusive?

Fuck that.

[also everyone wants to act like Minnesota is some rogue villain in all this and that isn't fair. This isn't like the big league male teams: there are no individual team owners here. The league controls it all and their fingers are in every pie. But that's a whole different conversation.]

[possessesnightshift]

i'm not an eloquent political speech person so im just gonna be direct about this

americans, please please fucking register to vote and vote for joe biden in november

and before you jump to whatever policy thing or weakness of his to counter this plea, just stop. it doesn't actually matter. trump is worse. trump is fucking so much worse

our job from here on out is not only to hold our noses and vote for biden, but also to convince all of our friends family and whoever else to also vote for him in spite of all of his flaws. yes all of them

we need to make the fucking argument that trump is so dangerous, the country would be better off with a drooling old genocide lover whose mental faculties are drying up faster than the sahara desert. we need biden voters to be keenly aware of his shortcomings and refuse to back down. there's no use in pretending biden is still sharp as ever or has this mass grassroots support (he does not). he sucks. he is probably the worst democratic candidate in the party's history.

don't care. trump is worse. he needs to be stopped from taking power by any means necessary. he needs to be STOPPED.

from a non-republican pov, democrats constantly leaning on the "but the other guy is worse" argument is frustrating as all hell. i certainly hate it myself. but what gets lost in the conversation is that the republicans are essentially so beholden to this principle nobody even notices.

i know plenty of small town midwestern republicans who were embarrassed to admit they voted for trump. they voted for him in spite of his nastiness and blatant buffoonery (not in spite of his racism bc they're likely ok with that) because he was on the republican ticket, and to them any republican is better than a woke liberal who wants to take away our gas stoves and force drag queens to read us stories at bedtime

so yeah i kinda don't fucking care at this point

biden is a laughably bad candidate for the election of 2024. any other time he could've run (including 2020) is completely different than now, when he's just too fucking old. so should we just roll over and let him lose? just for trump to finish his term, be biden's current age, and either run for a third term or just stay in power bc the supreme court is on his side and they've been preparing for this for decades? fuck that

actually i think a rotting, pulpy corpse would make a fine president compared to dumbass donald "reality gameshow host" trump. literally if biden dies the day of the election he's still got my vote because it is not for him

the left has to learn to have the tenacity that republicans have. we emulate the right in the worst fucking ways (e.g. closing the southern border for no reason) but we never emulate their pettiness. we never say 'i hate the republicans so much i will willingly vote for someone i kinda hate to spite their smug asses'

remember when trump used to be a joke? remember when he was a giant embarrassment? remember the memes about his illiteracy and his lack of awareness? (see 'covfefe' for more info) trump may have the means to become a brutal dictator, but he relies on people smarter than he is to pull it off

if trump continues to hype up his project 2025 and his fascist ambitions with the swagger and confidence of fdr running against herbert hoover, what does it signal to the rest of the world for that man to LOSE to a corpse with the stamina of a wet flounder? it could stop the fascist momentum in its tracks by associating it with weakness and incompetence (you talk up all this hype and you lose to THAT man?? i guess you must be full of shit huh)

these are fraught times. there's no way to get out of this without letting go of our ideals of a perfect candidate who responds to the political desires of the people. that candidate does not exist and never will

right now we have not just an opportunity to preserve our rotting democracy for a little longer, but something much more special. we can fucking put an end to the trump experiment once and for all. we can make trump wannabes like ron desantis scramble to dissociate their image from the toxicity of the trump administration. we can turn him back into a joke.

at this point im screaming into the wind. no person who isn't already voting for biden is gonna read this far. but i want these words to be here anyway because i think they have value. 2024, 2028, and 2032 are all going to be pivotal election years. we can't wait around. we have to act NOW.

vote rotting fish 2024. i will plug your nose with a clothes pin if you refuse to do so yourself...

[dearreader]

hello fellow members of the tortured poets department.

apologies for my absence from meeting, was being a little to tortured and not enough poet lately 😑.

but i would like to enter into evidence the songs for the days i missed. because it is late i might combine some songs together if they’re next to each other and if the idea for both over laps.

because of that this post will be analyzing fresh out the slammer and florida!!! but specifically how these songs start to explore more about the “american dream” theme that runs throughout the album. i’ve been waiting until these two songs to fully explore it as florida!!! is well… the most obvious place for me to start.

previous days: fortnight; THE TORTURED POETS DEPARTMENT; my boy only breaks his favorite toys; down bad; so long, london; but daddy i love him

references to america are prevalent throughout the album. this does make perfect sense actually considering taylor had set up home base in london and even wrote songs mentioning certain spots (and even liking a boy from london). so taylor choosing to focus the next album on america and coming home after being away fits very well. taylor spent years away because she was afraid of people and moved to a different country to get away. but when she was left all alone and the relationship ended (so long, london) she had to go back home.

this is what we see in fresh out the slammer. the song feels more like a transition song, ie. moving from one location to the other. the song over all is not one of my favorites on the album as while it is nice i don’t feel like it adds as much depth. though i do think it adds more details to certain things touched on. specifically with taylor personifying london as her former partner transitions a bit to this song as she refers to him as a place and what that place did to her. it’s especially interesting to me seeing her refer to it as a prison at times considering in reputation there was also those motifs too but with fame and she felt more sheltered with her then partner. but now it is shown to be also caging her. she ran from one cage to another to protect herself, which is valid, but is now realizing that instead of seeing it as a safe haven.

the main part i want to focus on the song though is how she refers to her next partner viewing her as “the girl of his american dreams”. this is an interesting line and totally not referencing the 1975 as it paints a very distinct picture. the phrase “the girl of his dreams” means the person he thinks would be the ideal partner. this is shown in the media though as negative or in a overwhelming personification with the “manic pixie dream girl” archetype. so already the phrase is on shakey ground, but there’s nothing wrong with saying a partner is “your dream” partner. it can be a compliment.

however, taylor specifically adding the “american dream” to the phrases changes it entirely. she’s now evoking the idea of the american dream that’s the pull yourself up by your boot straps and end up with a house, a car, a wife, and two kids idea. i’m not going to sit here and dissect THAT cause that’s a whole ass lecture. but taylor saying this man views her as “the girl of his american dreams” is saying that she is the ideal partner to settle down with and start a life with. to have a family and get married. which is also noted on many other tracks as something a partner did to her but never followed through. which is ironically what the american dream is. it’s a lie sold to people to keep working and they can hope for a better future. but in actuality they have to keep working and climbing relentlessly to achieve it and never can reach it.

so by taylor saying she’s the girl of his american dreams, he’s selling her a false narrative that she desperately wants and craves but he has no intention on following through and will just use her until he’s done. it’s a very interesting word choice i really like.

and how that idea connects to florida!!!

florida is probably one of the most notoriously known states in america next texas and new york. it’s a hub for weird stories and hurricanes and just all together a chaotic place. but people still love it. in fact, it’s also another part of the american dream as the idea for a lot of people is to retire in florida after they lived their life. which is why i wanted to combine these two as they flow into each other.

taylor uses florida as both a place physically but also metaphorically (and technically as a person if we view it as the “miracle move in drug”) which ties into her using london as both a place and person. florida is the “state” your in post break up and leans into the chaoticness of the actual state. she uses the wildness that everyone has of florida to describe a post break up high.

there are MANY things she uses to describe this. but let’s first look at her referring to her partner as a “hurricane with her name/i got drunk and i dared it to wash me away/barricaded in the bathroom with a bottle of wine”. hurricanes aren’t a stranger to florida and have done extensive damage to the state. but taylor refers to it as a storm with her name, ie. he was made just for her and in this state he’s out to destroy her because of how much damage their relationship did to her overall. but she acknowledges that she did tempt it, she did let it get this far and she had to drink her way through while hiding just to make it out alive.

but this florida, no one asks for questions about why you hate your ex because no one else in this state cares. in fact, they’ll help you hide the body if you help them. so taylor can throw her former lovers who she considered her home town (a reference to london boy “home is where the heart is, but that’s not where mine lives”/“but god i love the english”) but he never considered her more than a passing guest or her feeling like she was arrested there, because of her love for him and wanting to make it work or him keeping her locked away is open to interpretation. so she’s pissed, she’s running free and wanting to escape it all and is in the one state no one cares because they’re going through hell to and can’t bother to care about you.

in this case taylor is referring to florida as the clarity of post break up and running wild and free. which also does tie back into my previous days post about but daddy i love him as that plays into the classic romance piece of a forbidden love. it’s a very quintessential american idea of trucks through fences and small town elders saying to stay away from the good girl. and taylor even introduces it in fortnight by refrencing florida and “another night lost in america”. she is actively introducing the listener on page one to the idea of her longing to run away from it all and have freedom, but freedom looks different there than in florida.

bdilh->florida!!! just screams the idea of american hopes and dreams and young love. it’s wild and loud and messy and destructive and doesn’t see the future. which then later gets wrapped up somewhat in i hate it here from the anthology tracks. because taylor saying “i’d say the 1830’s but without all the racists and getting married off for the highest bid… nostalgia is a minds trick if i had been there i’d hate it” which can be her acknowledging that the idea this man sold to her and the freedom she fantasized about wasn’t what it actually was and hates it in hindsight.

this post is disjointed, and i apologize, but the idea of the american dream running through has been something i keep going back to on relistens and i wanted to introduce it to the community for discussion. thank you again for letting this be late.

[mraprilfools]

Summary: After Lucifer and Lilith go through a separation, he wanders the streets looking for some sort of company to feel less alone. In the late hours of the night, the perfect man happens to bump into him. He just happens to come with some unfriendly company!

Pairing: Old!Vox(1950's) x Lucifer

Contents: Kissing, Hidden Identity(Lucifer), Sad Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Sexual Themes heavily Implied but not Explicit

Word Count: 11k

A/N: This is the SFW version of my story! If you want the 🌶️ version of this story, I highly recommend reading it on here on AO3! There will still be some spice present in this story but the actual sexual content has been toned down heavily.

One of the first things that Vox learned when he died was that it was never truly pitch black in hell. There were periods when it was lighter or darker but it never became pitch black; a trait of his new home that he came to know quickly thanks to the graveyard shifts he’d pull until the wee hours of the morning working his first job since his death. Unloading trucks carrying liquor wasn’t his favorite, all kinds of desperate souls would often try to trick him or con him out of giving up the prized spirits.

Even in the afterlife, you had to work to stave off the starvation that made you miserable. The desperate would eat the bodies littering the streets with more corpses in the past week alone outnumbering all the corpses Vox ever saw in life. Being thrown into the pits of capitalism wasn’t Vox’s choice but it was better than starving or laying on his back.

Not that he had much confidence in his unique body attracting more than freaks.

Normally there was one other to help him with unloading, a leopard sinner. When he wasn’t trying to get high off some hell drug, that was. Better than nothing. But the man had simply not shown up to his shift, leaving Vox out in the cold moving heavy crates by himself. The glasses rattled each time he hefted up a new box, carrying over a stack to sit inside by the doorway on top of a growing palette.

“There’s no way I’ll get this done before the store opens… better not be MY ass the boss gets on when he comes in.” The words were flung into the uncaring void, Vox was well aware he would get absolutely no slack nor commendation for coming in anyway. But Max would get off scott-free, perks of being the owner’s son!

When he came back around to pick up the next box, he found a group of four men gathering around the truck and peeking inside. A hyena, civet, butterfly, and snail demon by the look of it. Vox let out a heavy sigh, heavily filtered by his poor speakers.

“OI!” He called out to the gang, hoping that might scare them off. The largest of the group, the butterfly spun around and hopped out onto the curb to greet him. Shoulders were hunched with his head cocked to the side, looking the picture-perfect ideal of a delinquent. Just his luck.

“Oh! Looks like the wage dog is around! The… fuck are YOU supposed to be? Is your head a… box?” The insect clicked his tongue, narrowing his glowing red eyes as he attempted to make sense of the bizarre sight. It was a common enough question in his time he was growing exhausted of explaining.

“I’m a television. They’re starting to become commonplace in American homes now, taking over Radio. It’s like a broadcast drama… but you can watch it unfold before your very eyes.” Cyan claws stretched out into a flurry of jazz hands meant to sell a product that he wasn’t even peddling. The entertainer in him couldn’t resist stretching out his leg and putting energy into his voice.

It did not go well.

“You trying to pull my leg? I don’t believe that mystical magic bullshit. Oi, Rands. Get a lot of this guy.”

The civet peeked his head up from a box where he’d wrestled free a bottle of whiskey. Jumping to his feet, he leaped off the truck and came to investigate.

“That’s a television! We should steal his head Pete, we could sell it for a pretty penny!” Rands jabbed his finger excitedly, motioning to Vox’s head. Dread welled in Vox’s chest, his heels clicking as he took several steps back.

“Shit… really? Is he telling the truth? Styles! Eric! Oi, you two come to hold this fuck down, we’re stealing his head!”

“His head? Won’t that… kill him, Pete?” The hyena spoke. The last two were already starting to form a semi-circle that forced Vox to draw toward the building door. Getting mugged in hell wasn’t a rare occurrence. It was hell! But having his head stolen? Kind of on a whole different level.

Vox threw up his hands, drawing back toward the store. “Come on now! I have a rather DIRE need of my head. It’s bad enough you’re going to make me lose my job stealing from the truck. Can’t you at least leave me capable of looking for a new one…?”

One of the things that was hard to nail down with his new face was how to put on a charming smile to best disarm the people around them. A skill that Vox was still struggling to nail even at this point. The group of men stared, sputtered, and shared looks as they broke out into taunting laughter.

“Look at the picture box! It’s smiling like a comic character!”

“Waaah! Creepy.”

The smile fell quickly when he realized it had the opposite of his intended effect. The speed of his back steps increased. When the doorway was within reach, he quickly whipped around in an attempt to escape through the door. He couldn’t even get two steps before the butterfly grabbed the back of his coat and yanked him back. Vox leaned his head forward to prevent it from smacking against the concrete, tucking his hands beneath to further act as a cushion.

The blood-red sky looked beautiful tonight. A shame Vox couldn’t appreciate it with four men towering over him with ill intent. Yet, he’d been so beaten over the past few months he could hardly feel anything but self-pity for himself and apathy for his situation.

If he lost his head, would he eventually regenerate that, too?

How long would that take? A few weeks. The worst of it was how… rough they were when those hands laid themselves on his head. The heel of one hooligan dug into his chest while he was yanked forward. Thick cords making up his neck made it something you couldn’t simply yank off but it DID hurt. When one man couldn’t get it free, a second wrapped an arm around their body and joined in the venture.

The other two parked themselves onto his legs. Vox tried to clamp down on his head while his neck was being stretched out. His jaw, neck, shoulders, everything began to scream like it was on fire, and his hands only uselessly scratched at the air while the men avoided the dangerous arc. Sparks flew as connectors and ports started to come loose.

“Fucking hell! This thing is ATTACHED!” The hyena barked. The butterfly he clung to grit his teeth, the wings on his back smacking against his friend's cheek while they flapped with his resistance.

“YEAH, it’s my fucking head! It’s as attached as your goddamn lim-- FUCK OWOWOW! Can’t you at least KILL me first before you yank my head off?!” Vox snapped back. He was regretting his earlier apathy. The pain and ringing in his head was starting to become unbearable. He summoned up what stores of electricity he had in his body, light blue bolts of electricity danced upon his skin and flesh, arching toward his extremities. The initial pain of thousands of volts in their hands forced the gang to yank their hands away, and that was Vox’s chance. He immediately shot to his feet and shoved the civet aside to make room for his escape. Narrowly escaping a mass of hands trying to latch onto his coat a second time, his long legs carried him down the street.

“OI! Get back here!”

“That’s our fucking meal ticket running off! Fucking get 'em’!”

The early mornings meant that the only people up were the worst ne’er do-wells Hell had to offer. Loan sharks were giving somebody the shakedown, he passed by a shanking in progress, and even a couple who was in the middle of fucking right out in the open. He almost ended up tripping over one man’s arm, initially thought to be detached until he realized the man was simply groggy and coked out of his mind.

The sound of footsteps pounding against the pavement was gaining, the fastest of the lot coming treacherously close even with Vox’s head start. Vox made a quick dip and dive into one of the alleyways, jumped onto a fence, and climbed it. The iron clattered as his weight smacked against it, ringing with each new hand that followed behind him. Only courage and desperation had him taking the fall on the other side. Instead of taking the leap, the butterfly was lifting the smaller men up and over the fence. It was only thanks to the smaller members' hesitation he found his feet again on wobbly footsteps. Vox turned another corner only to bump into a significantly shorter sinner. His whole body fell forward, catching himself by his hands on the concrete with a blond-haired man pinned beneath him.

It was the most beautiful man Vox had seen in his life. Pure white alabaster skin, apple red cheeks, golden hair, and ruby eyes in a pool of yellow. The pure white coat he wore was something Vox was almost certain he could never afford. His first thought was that he might be a noble.

“Who are…?” The man beneath him spoke, swallowed in his throat when Vox was yanked right off him by the large butterfly sinner. The near angelic beauty scooted back and sat up watching as the four gang members circled the stranger who knocked him over.

“Finally! Careful, we don’t want this asshole zapping us again. Maybe we ought to take his advice and kill him first?” The hyena spoke. The snail reached into his circular shell, tossing a jagged knife over to the man who suggested it. A manic smile spread over the muzzle of the canine, first pointing that glittering point directly at Vox’s neck.

“I ought to carve this neck of yours, asshole. If you don’t struggle, we can even make this quick for you alright? So hold still.” Vox could see it in the way the hyena’s pupils dilated. He enjoyed the act of killing. The three other faces with their crescent smiling eager for his death felt… familiar. The old faces of his mother, father, his brother all laughing while he desperately did everything he could to live. He had no allies, but that only made him want to fight even more.

Vox didn’t say a word, refusing the hyena the satisfaction of his fear. When the dog realized he wasn’t getting it, he clicked his tongue and shoved the blade forward. The point pressed against the bright yellow woolen fabric around his neck, inching close to the bobbing Adam’s apple beneath.

“Good night, fucker!” The rank breath of the hyena misted against his screen. That was Vox’s sign to shut his eyes tight, bracing for the no doubt messy cut into his throat.

…

When the flash of pain didn’t assault him, Vox peeked one eye open finding an ashen hand clutching the blade. The shorter man he’d knocked over earlier caught the fisted weapon and twisted the man’s arm until he was brought down low to his knees.

“OW! Fuck Shit! Shit shit! FUCK! Get this fucking… PANSY the fuck off me!” The ruffian attempted to shake the hand off, but the other sinner’s strength was so absolute he could only shake his arm. First muddled confusion, then panic settled in as he smacked the first with his free hand. The snail sinner immediately tried to wrap his arms around the small sinner, but he had simply ducked and knocked him off on his feet. The hyena was tossed right into the butterfly and the Civet was knocked over by something Vox couldn’t even see.

In a span of a couple seconds, the four men that had been harassing him were laid low with the stranger still standing tall. The smile he wore was so wide and friendly, that Vox struggled to believe the man could be in Hell, or even real.

“Heeeeey there! Hope you don’t mind me getting involved. There’s a lot I can tolerate but watching a man getting stabbed five feet in front of me isn’t one of those.” Lucifer removed the large top hat on top of his head, bowing.

“Oh. Not at all...” Vox mumbled, his dark gray pupils scanning to watch the quartet as they rose to their feet. A couple of them rolled their shoulders as they re-circled the smaller individual. Without giving them the time of day, he simply offered his hand to Vox to hold him up. Warily, Vox watched the largest stand directly behind the angelic beauty.

“Watch out!” Vox cried out as he watched the sinner wind his arm back and swing his fist for a heavy slug for his cheek. His ‘savior’ merely canted his head to the side, catching it without flinching. The butterfly was the only one to feel anything, falling over to his knees clenching his fist. At first, Vox had to doubt his eyes. The hyena wavered, still clutching the knife in his hands. With a little whispered encouragement from his other friends, he attempted to jab the knife into Lucifer’s back.

Instead of the dull sound of steel cutting through flesh, the harsh clang of metal shattering assaulted his senses. The hyena’s hands trembled in disbelief, staring at the handle and the broken blade still attached to the hilt. Panic settled in with the group, their bodies twisting to make their grand escape like the devil was on their tails. The useless hilt was left at the scene of the would-be crime, falling into a crack in the sidewalk where a puddle of acid rain collected from the recent deluge.

“Well, come on! We don’t want to stand out in the middle of the road forever do we?” The stranger asked, getting tired of waiting. Vox’s mouth hung open, unable to answer initially. The brilliance of that smile was throwing everything off. He stretched out his hand to carefully take the strangers. He didn’t even hesitate to meet Vox halfway, grasping his hand tightly to tug him back onto his feet.

“Thank… you,” Vox muttered under his breath.

The stranger chuckled, flushing a little. He looked so… cute and darling at that moment Vox found it nearly impossible to see him as the same man who easily took out four thugs in front of him.

“No need to thank me! If I simply walked away while you were getting assaulted in front of me, well… I’d feel like a hypocrite y’know?”

“Well… Hell is the place to find hypocrites but I’m going to be glad I found the one man in hell with some standards for himself,” Vox confessed, including himself in that lot. He would have easily walked away and let this pretty blonde boy get destroyed if it meant saving his ass. “My name is Vox by the way.”

The man jumped in place, rubbing the back of his neck as he started to laugh nervously.

“RIGHT! Names! You do names when you meet people. I have a name! A VERY good name too.” He insisted, holding up a finger like he wanted Vox to wait.

“Which is…?”

“Lucifer! Luci for short! My parents thought it’d be REAL funny to name me after The Morningstar.” The man made a looping motion near his head with his eyes rolling to match the gesture. “Can you believe I was still the favorite? Bet you can guess how I got murdered! Nice to meet you Vox.” Ashen hands brushed back the golden bangs fallen over his face. Vox felt certain that name to be an alias. He had a few reasons for suspecting such a thing. One was that this guy was secretly an Overlord, but Vox quickly dismissed that. The other was that he was worried Vox was a creep or… he was married and looking for a gay fling. The way he was so nervous was making him lean into that guess.

“I should get back to work. I was in the middle of unloading a truck… need to stop anyone from stealing everything before I get fired.” Vox thumbed toward the alleyway, with Lucifer’ standing on his tiptoes to look down the alleyway. The very dark murder alley. Friendly! Lucifer followed the motion of his thumb, then turned his attention back to Vox.

“HEY! Uh-- y’know it looks pretty scary! How about I stick with you a little longer to make sure those guys don’t come back huh?”

Vox’s face glitched for a second, flashing into a blizzard of static. “Uh... Why?”

Lucifer tucked his hands behind his back, rocking back and forth on his feet.

“Beeeecause… I just don’t want to be alone tonight. I’ve had a… hah! Rough day and I don’t feel like going to a bar. I kinda just want somebody to talk to.” With a clearing of his throat, he tapped two fingers together. “But you look like you’re having a similarly awful day, so you seem like the kind of company I’m hoping for.”

“Then yeah, sure. Graveyard shift is boring as hell alone.” Vox agreed before he got too into his rambling. Lucifer blinked owlishly, like he didn’t expect that answer, his pupils growing as wide as saucers.

“REALLY?”

Why was he so cute? Vox coughed to dispel the odd pressure on his chest, tugging on his collar.

“Yes, really. This way Luci.” With a nod of his head to the right, he took the lead. Lucifer trailed right by his side, making it NO secret the way his eyes took in the sight of the man beside him with keen interest.

Vox felt extremely sure that 'Luci' was a married man looking for a gay fling now and was appraising him. It was a good thing he didn't have enough of a conscience to care- the guy was pretty enough that he was halfway considering it. The only problem was...his own body.

“So Luci, what’s been bothering you tonight? Something you want to talk about?” Vox broached the subject, wanting to keep the awkward silence at bay.

Lucifer jumped, breaking out into a nervous laughter. “Oh! That uh…! Well y’see! Some things have been going bad back at home. Sooo I needed to get out of the house for a while. I’m feeling kind of sort of really lost right now. I was originally going to a friend's house, but then I remembered that I hadn’t talked to them in… a long time. So I thought that would be extremely awkward! Like...” Lucifer held out his hands, miming the scene.

“HEY there buddy ol’ PAL! It’s Luci! Yeah, I haven’t returned your calls or… even texted you back in like ten years! Can I crash at your place for a week?” The strain of those pearly whites did admittedly make Vox feel sympathetic. He was just as awful in keeping his relations. He could never be sure who liked him.

“That DOES seem awkward. So you were...” Vox cleared his throat, trying to test the waters with the other man. “Trying to find a place to stay tonight…? And some company?”

It took a moment for Lucifer to process that question, taking so long Vox wondered if he’d perhaps gone too far.

“You’re right. So I’m searching for it in a stranger who I’m hoping might be as lonely as me! What about you Vox? Do you have family or anyone to spend the Holiday with? It’s almost Sinsmas.”

Vox opened his mouth to speak, knit his brows, and shook his head.

“No, not since I died. I’ve only been here for a few months, and I’m pretty convinced my wife went to Heaven so I’m here alone.”

“She died before you?”

“Yeah… she died years ago. Illness.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.” Lucifer rubbed his sleeve, sucking through his teeth.

“So-- I’m glad I have some company. You saved my life so… least I could do is keep you company yeah?” Vox reassured the smaller man, patting him on the shoulder. The touch initially surprised the angel, making them jump from his touch. Vox quickly yanked his hand away. “Oh! Sorry-- I keep forgetting I have fucking stabby hands now. It’s inconvenient most of the time.”

Lucifer quickly shook his head.

“No! No not at all, it just surprised me!” Lucifer insisted, putting far too much cheer into his voice. He snatched the hand from midair, cupping it between his hands. The act immediately brought a faint white color to Vox’s screen, watching with wide eyes as he handled the hand without fear. He didn’t even flinch while his finger traced one of the blades. “Sinner’s bodies DO take all shapes. You must have done some cruel things with these hands.”

A nervous laughter rang out from Vox, a guilty smile plastered on his screen. It did send a pang of pain to Lucifer’s heart. Free will and this man chose to use his hands to hurt people until that was all he could do with them.

“And I guess you must have been so beautiful you enchanted everyone to their deaths. The ladies must love you.” Vox mused out loud. The bold compliment caused a golden color to rise to Lucifer’s face. He quickly let go of Vox’s hand and laughed nervously.

“Something… like that yeah. They call me a betrayer, and I’ve run off with a man’s wife. Pretty fitting.”

“Hmm… I can see it.” Vox confessed as the two rounded the last corner.

When he returned to the truck, he found everything seemed to still be around. The missing bottle was… something he could pass off as a miscount on their behalf or something. Lucifer hung around outside, watching with wide-eyed curiosity as Vox lifted boxes to carry over to the palette nearby.

“What?” Vox asked him as he passed by the smaller man.

“You unload that WHOLE truck by yourself?”

“Normally no. But my co-worker called out. I’m getting what I can get done before I clock out. I don’t love this place enough to stay past my shift.” Even if his boss would yell his ear off for it. Fuck him. He wasn’t paid enough to work overtime.

“I could help...” Lucifer offered. Vox hung his head, trying to suppress the laughter. He appreciated his help, but he did NOT look capable of lifting boxes that heavy.

“You just wanted somebody to talk to right? I got it. If you got hurt, I’d be in deep shit. Having you around to dissuade those assholes from coming back is more than enough.”

Lucifer pulled back his sleeves, hopping into the truck moments later. With his hands still occupied, Vox was helpless to watch him as he picked up a stack of crates all by himself. Not just one or two, but three that he lifted with extreme ease. Vox’s own digital eyes took up his entire screen, watching in abject shock as he strolled out of the truck. Lucifer knew what he was doing too, the cheesy smile on his face was meant to insult his expectations. With nervous laughter, Vox set his box down and assisted Lucifer with his trio.

“Great things DO come in small packages.” Vox mused with a shake of his head.

Lucifer puffed out his chest, rubbing his knuckles against his chest. “It’s easy to underestimate me, but you’d be surprised by the kinds of things I can do.”

Vox passed by, stepping back into the truck to pick up the next crate. Lucifer trailed behind him, tapping Vox on the shoulder before he lifted the crate.

“Big thought!” Lucifer began. “I can’t pick up more than three because they’ll fall over! What if we combine YOUR height with my amazing strength? I bet we can get way more than three! Let’s try four or five!”

Vox wondered if this man might be insane but he shrugged it off and decided to give it a shot. With Lucifer’s help, the daunting task had become far easier. Most of it of course turned into him helping balance crates while the shorter man lifted them without breaking a sweat. Four or five didn’t even make a difference compared to the initial three. In terms of time, they were still far behind the usual schedule with the near murder earlier that day but Vox found Lucifer to be far more pleasant company than his co-worker.

Prettier too.

“So Luci...” Vox began as he was in the middle of the actual meat of the job: Stocking the shelves! Routine and methodical work that Lucifer assisted in another nearby corner of the store. It was a simple task of lining the bottles neatly on the shelves.

“Yeah?”

“What kind of things do you like to do for fun?”

Lucifer nearly dropped the bottle in his hand, bouncing it between his hands to catch it in the cushion of his thighs. Lucifer jammed the bottle back onto the shelf.

“Oh! Y’know, normal things. I like to make toys, tinker, pretty much anything crafty. That’s what makes me happiest. Usually animals, ducks are my favorite. But I’ve made model kits, dioramas, and even a big project of a model town! It’s my pride and joy!”

“That sounds… adorable,” Vox admitted. “I think I’d like to see them one of these days Luci. If we end up becoming friends that is.”

A golden color rose on Lucifer’s face again, his shoulders turned so his back was facing Vox. Friends? with a Sinner?! It felt implausible. But to have a connection outside of his family? It was tempting.

“What about you Vox?”

“I… didn’t have a lot of time for hobbies, honestly. I was a career-driven man. But when I did have time, I liked movies. I’ve always wanted to direct and act in them myself! But I only managed to become a news anchor. There’s something… appealing about being able to become somebody else for a few hours. Then… the usual pleasures a man enjoys. Alcohol and women.” And men.

Lucifer sat back, taking in the information of the sinner. The box by his side had already grown empty. He picked up the empty crate to swap it for a new one. “Movies? I’ve only seen a couple of those. What do you like about them?”

“Well--” Vox started, sucking through his teeth. “At first it was-- a way to get somebody's attention. My mother was always fond of those radio dramas. If I was one of those figures, I thought it’d mean she’d finally be looking at me too. It-- didn’t work of course. But at least I found my love for them.”

Lucifer stopped in place. When he looked a little closer, he could see how lonely the other man felt. A pang of guilt stabbed Lucifer in the heart. It was much easier to think of Sinners as pure evil, but this one was far too sympathetic. He fucked up, but he was not completely awful. The way Lucifer wanted to see himself.

“Well if you ever make it on the big screen, I’ll be the first in line to see you! We still have theatres here. I don’t see why you couldn’t be an actor here!”

The illumination in the man’s screen shone more brilliantly, his smile unable to meet his eyes as he smiled. The last bottle of the batch was set on the shelf, with an empty box sitting beside him. “We’ll see. I’ll have to get out of this dead-end job first. I also don’t have a… face anymore so it’ll be a lot harder to play a leading role. You can cheer for me when I show up as an extra.”

Lucifer set the crate in his hands down, giving Vox his full attention. It was his turn to speak.

“Your face was handsome enough that those men were trying to steal it earlier! I wouldn’t give up so soon! You haven’t been down here long right?”

Vox raised his shoulders. “Three months about.” He answered.

“You’ll see, the standards of beauty are different down here. We have people taking on the traits of animals, insects, and inanimate objects like you. We have people through more periods than your own who all find different things beautiful. I---” Lucifer cleared his throat, tugging on his collar. “I come… from a time when it’s not weird for a man to find another man handsome. And I think you’re… kind of cute.

Lucifer put on a fragile smile, stretching his hand to lay on top of Vox’s. The sinner swallowed as his gaze danced between the hand resting on top of his and the golden-haired man. There was a long period of silence and hesitation.

“They beat men to death where I’m from. It’s an unspeakable taboo, one that would cause you to lose everything if anyone found out. What’s… it like in hell?” Vox asked, leaning a little closer.

Lucifer took in a deep breath and looked around the store. Checking to see if the two were truly alone. He crawled forward until his hand settled on Vox’s thigh. Vox’s screen immediately fizzled into static, electricity sparkling from his antennae. Like a deer in headlights, he stared at Lucifer who had not moved an inch since.

“In Hell, the powerful make the rules. Is it something that interests you?”

Vox laughed nervously, with another blush flashing across beneath his eyes that spoke of his guilt. He stretched out a claw to brush the back of his hand over the porcelain cheek of the angel. They traced over until it reached his golden coif.

Lucifer crawled forward, setting an ashen hand on Vox’s chest until he fell back and hit the shelves. The bottles all rattled, and Lucifer shot his hand out to stop a whiskey bottle from falling over. Without fear he pressed his face against the glass, laying his lips on top of Vox’s. The world went completely silent, save for the sound of the glass rolling across the floor.

Lucifer sighed against the strange buzzing sensation dancing along his lips as those large wants came around his waist. So much smaller than the sinner, it was so similar but different to the large woman who’d been his wife for millennia. The tickling sensation of those pricks running along his back earned a sigh that Vox swallowed as they pressed their lips tighter together.

Like being pulled under a current, Lucifer felt like he was drowning as his body was held tight against the larger man’s. The hard crash of his hand clutching the back of his head had a passion and fire in it that reignited the coals that he’d thought died in a slowly decaying relationship. Lucifer straddled the hips of the taller man. Only the need for breath could stop them, with the heat of their breath playing against one another while their foreheads pressed together.

“I’ve not been kissed like that in hundreds of years. Your wife must have been incredibly lucky to have you.” Lucifer growled, brushing his fingers against the cherry-wood finish of his head.

“Aha… I hope she thought so at the end there. I’ll never know now. But-- I keep thinking the same thing. No matter what angle I look at you from, you’re more beautiful than a marble statue. You’re a work of art, I can only imagine what you look like with your clothes off.” Vox’s fingers wandered over to his jacket, pushing past to brush his palms over his chest. Lucifer sighed, feeling a burning fire in his groin.

“That could be arranged for a night.”

One night.

With the most beautiful man he’d ever laid eyes on? He’d happily risk getting killed for that. But words weren’t functioning for him right now, he was struggling to keep himself operational when Lucifer was still so close. He could see the beautiful snow-white skin down the collar of his shirt. He was small but feisty. Nothing like the larger delinquents he liked to play with on earth. Vox felt certain it was Luci who had all the power here.

His claws settled around the back of the angel’s head and pulled him closer. Their lips crashed against one another. This time all the pretenses were gone. Lips danced and pressed against one another. Vox wrapped his arm around the smaller man, pulling his smaller frame against his body. Brushing his hand over to feel along his sides, his hips, over his butt where he clenched and squeezed.

In response, Lucifer slammed Vox harder against the shelf, forcing his tongue to slip past his teeth and explore the cavern of his mouth. A bottle fell from the lowest shelf, clanking as it rolled across the hard floor. Vox’s body jolted, shocked by the initiative the other man took. But lust was pulling him under. His claw dug into the angel’s shoulder, who didn’t even flinch. It was only because Lucifer allowed him that Vox could push him off, his face a wild shade of light gray swallowing the space beneath his eyes.

“Wait-- I have a job to do. I’m already behind as it is, can’t we wait until after my shif-- MmhH!”

Lucifer silenced him with another kiss, already pressing his hand over the jacket that covered Vox’s body. He lay his palm over his chest with only the promotional tee shirt underneath to feel the firm muscular chest beneath. A mix between a groan and a sigh escaped Vox’s lips when Lucifer hiked his hips to grind his butt against Vox’s groin.

“I’ll take care of it, I promise. I have a few tricks up my sleeve, all you need to do is...” Lucifer sighed, tracing his fingers underneath the screen. Vox followed the graze of his hand. Electricity shot up, sparkling overhead.

“L-Luci...”

The sound of his own name on another’s lips sent an electric tingle up Lucifer’s spine.The Adam’s apple on Vox’s throat bobbed; a pretty little sight that inspired Lucifer to trace his finger down his throat. His teeth came to clamp down on the side of Vox���s neck shortly after. It wasn’t blood and flesh, but wire and electricity that sparked when he bit down. The crackling in his mouth shocked him so much that he pulled away.

“S-sorry. I wanted to warn you… my body’s a little strange. Besides...” Vox nervously pushed Lucifer away by the shoulders. Keeping him at bay with his hands clutching his shoulders. “You’re just wanting somebody to make you not feel so alone right? Pouncing on a stranger in the middle of a liquor store won’t make you feel any less lonely. All you’re going to do is… make yourself feel more empty than before. We should-- reaaally stop this. After I lost my wife, the first thing I did was try to sleep with as many women as possible. Each one felt like… it only drew me further apart from her. It’ll only make you feel better temporarily.”

It felt patronizing for a man not even a quarter of his age to give him this lesson. But Lucifer had never known a world where his wife wasn’t… his. With a sigh, he hung back brushing his fingers through his hair. Sulking, he confessed.

“I just… want to feel like somebody wants me. That somebody likes me. That I’m not… too much.” The mortifying confession came with a cautious flick of his eyes meeting with Vox’s. How embarrassing to lose himself in front of a sinner. One of the types of people he spent so much time and energy hating. Yet here he was clinging to him for a distraction because the heartbreak was too much. So why was the sympathy in his eyes only making him feel worse about himself?!

“Well… I don’t know you very well Luci. From what little I do know, I do like you. You are also...” Vox cleared his throat, blushing harder. “The most beautiful man I’d ever laid eyes on. I’ll kick myself for this later, I don’t normally get a conscience at these times. The old me would have you bent over the counter fucking you right now.”

Lucifer sputtered, covering his smile beneath his hand. “And what stopped you?”

“I don’t know. Maybe I don’t want you to know the same pain I experienced. If I can save you, maybe it might save me too, in some way.” Vox sat up a little straighter, jostling Lucifer in his lap in the process. Lucifer held tight to Vox’s shoulders, sliding close until his face came close to Vox’s screen again. Lucifer could hear him gulp again, his eyes veering away.

Lucifer sighed and lifted himself off of Vox’s body. Lucifer didn’t miss the way Vox breathed a little easier then, or the obvious tent in his pants that he tried to hide immediately by shifting his body away. Lucifer did his best to not look a little offended, tugging on his clothes to put them to rights.

Sinner’s wanting to save somebody? All they did was hurt people. The more he spent around this one, the more annoyed he got with the idea that they might be complex. If they were complex even when they were suffering in hell?

Lucifer… wanted to get to know Vox better. To unravel the mystery, so he obliged for now.

“Alright. I’ll finish putting everything up over here! Don’t worry, we’ll be finished long before your shift ends. I promise!” Lucifer promised. Vox managed a thin smile, tugging on his clothes to put it back to the right. Not that it could eradicate the memory of that firm wall of muscle that Lucifer felt when he put his hand there. It was so unlike anything when he touched Lillith. Now that he had a taste… well now he couldn’t get it out of his head.

“Don’t work too hard. I mean, you aren’t getting paid for this. If you simply sat and watched I’d be happy to just talk to you.” Vox groped around on the floor, searching for the bottle that went rolling elsewhere. He found it… underneath one of the shelves. Falling flat onto his chest, he stretched out his claw trying to grope around for it.

Lucifer felt bad leaving the man with a biology not friendly for this task to do it, but it was the perfect distraction!

While Vox was distracted, Lucifer pulled up his sleeves and used magic to levitate the flurry of bottles whisking them to the appropriate shelves almost instantaneously. While Vox’s claws struggled to clasp around the glass bottle, an orchestra of glass and liquor flew about arranging themselves on the shelves.

Once a messy half-filled store with scattered boxes became neatly arranged with the products lining the shelves as if by their own accord. The containers all come together in a neat stack by the backdoor.

“Got you!” Vox proclaimed his victory, snatching the bottle by the neck. Prying himself off the filthy floor, he set the bottle on the shelf, only to stop and look around the store.

“Huh?”

“HUH?!”

In less than a minute, the store with all its empty shelves was stocked. Lucifer was in the corner breaking down boxes by hand. The angel smiled at him, waving. With a slack-jawed expression, he pushed himself to his feet and examined the store twice, thrice over. He was done, early.

“How did--” Vox began.

“I’ve got many tricks up my sleeve you know! I can do a lot more than take care of a few ruffians!” Lucifer answered in a sing-song tone, tossing yet another collapsed box onto the pile. With one hand tapped against the top of his head, he strode up to join Lucifer. Far too many times that night the short man had stunned him with his ability.

“You’re… an Overlord, aren’t you? That’s why you hide your name and how you can… do all this. Right?” Vox asked.

Lucifer dropped the box cutter in his hand, laughing nervously. His hand brushed over the back of his neck, cracking his neck in the process.

“You’ve sussed me out! That’s right… I’m a secret Overlord! Nobody ever expects me y’know?” Lucifer snapped his finger, putting on a theatrical show of spinning in place and waving jazz hands. Vox sighed, smacking his thigh with his hand.

“Well, I’m not going to ask what your real name is. I bet that’s safer for me too right?”

Lucifer dropped his arms, immediately rubbing his left with his right hand.

“Much. You’re… not mad?” Lucifer tentatively brought up the subject, rubbing his arm. For a big scary overlord, he was… a damn natural at hiding that fact. Vox lifted his shoulders and let them fall lifelessly.

“It’s Hell. Everyone’s got secrets and things they want to hide. I’m no exception. You’re not trying to steal my soul or kill me so we’re good.” The gentle smile on his screen felt reassuring. No pressure to be a King, no pressure to be honest, like Vox had given him full leave to be… whoever the hell he wanted to be tonight.

“Well, Luci! Once we toss out these boxes, want to crash at my place tonight? Figure it’s a good way to repay you for your help today.” Vox shifted in place, clearing his throat as he added, “If you’re O.K. with that of course.”

And today? He wanted to be Luci, an unfortunate man who just shared a name with the most hated man in history! For a man who loved arts and crafts, he lamented his lack of creativity when he was spontaneous.

Lucifer hid his smile behind his hand. Lillith was always so confident, commanding, gorgeous in every way, and intimidating with how powerful and tall she was. Something was endearing about how nervous and dorky this man was with a wobbly smile.

“Alright… sure. I didn’t want to go home tonight after all.”

“Cool!” Vox exclaimed, the screen shining a little brighter.

“Cool!” Lucifer agreed, throwing a pair of finger guns. An awkward silence settled between the two of them, with Vox breaking it first to grab the pile of broken boxes.

“I'll toss these! Can you get the crates? Another chance to showboat.”

Lucifer blushed and assisted Vox in carrying the rest of the trash out. While Vox went through the motions of locking up. When the two left the store dawn was already starting to come over Pentagram City.

5 AM was the ungodly hour for the early risers to be getting up for the day. The street was bitter cold; not that Vox could feel it. Lucifer, on the other hand, trembled like a leaf as he followed Vox’s side. The heavy brown coat he wore slipped off of his shoulders and draped over the short man. Lucifer pulled the jacket over to seal in what warmth he could, owlishly turning his gaze to Vox with tears blooming in his eyes.

“Won’t you be cold?”

Vox waved off his concern.

“Nah! I can’t feel it. As long as I stay above sixty I should be fine. Any lower and I might start struggling… but we won’t be out long enough for that to affect me.”

Lucifer smiled, staring at the profile of the sinner he walked beside. He’d seen a wide number of them in his time in hell. Taking the form of countless animals, objects, and plenty of insects. But this man with his strange boxy head was… new to him.

“What… are you anyway?”

“What…?” Vox pointed to himself, arching a brow. “OH! You mean my head?”

“Yeah...”

There was a brief pause until Vox was breaking out into laughter. Lucifer’s face burned hotter, pulling the jacket tighter over his body in mortification.

“You acted so nonchalant around me and even kissed me I thought you found this completely normal! It’s uh-- a Television. You’ve been to the theater right?”

“I have! But they never had those odd boxes at them. There is always a projector and a large screen. Is there a tiny projector inside the box?!”

“No? Kind of? I can’t exactly look inside my head. Back on Earth, there are these devices called a Television! It’s like going to the theater but you can have it right in the comfort of your own home! You don’t even need a guy to narrate what’s going on anymore; you can HEAR the people on the other side.” Vox’s whole screen lit up, taking the opportunity to gush even further.

“I was a TV Anchor! I would give people the news of the day! And of course updates about the World! Which was involved in a massive war at the time. I had a naturally handsome face of course. But the real reason everyone tuned in was my voice and ENERGY I could put into the show.”

Vox pointed to his screen, flashing a toothy smile full of teeth. Lucifer couldn’t say he completely understood, but he liked the enthusiasm the sinner showed talking about his old passion. “So would you say you’re happy you’re a television?”

The question caught Vox blind-sighted. “I… well no. Is anyone happy with their sinner’s appearance?”

“Well… I am.” Lucifer confessed, tugging on his new coat.

“Yeah, you get to exist in hell as the most beautiful thing in creation somehow and I’m a fucking box. Some guys get all the luck.” Vox threw his hands up, smacking his legs in defeat. But the good-natured smile on his face reassured Lucifer he was only a LITTLE salty.

Lucifer drew a little closer, then fell back when something cold fell on his face. He craned his head back, opening his mouth wide when he noticed soft white flurries falling around them. The first snow of the season.

“What is it?” Vox asked. He followed Lucifer’s gaze. “SHIT!” Instead of the gentle wonder Lucifer felt, Vox immediately started speeding down the street. Boggled, Lucifer raced after following in Vox’s footsteps.

“Vox! What’s wrong?!”

Instead of answering him, Vox focused on running faster while his hands tried to block the flurries overhead. Lucifer wasn’t quite so out of shape that a run down the street would knock the breath out of him. But after several minutes of constant running to rush into the first floor of an apartment building, Lucifer panted and heaved while his back leaned against the wall.

It was an old place, which screamed low rent. The wallpaper was old and peeling in places, stained yellow by smoke. The floor beneath creaked when they walked, and he could hear the faint murmuring of screaming in one of the rooms above their heads. Vox was still bent over clutching his knees catching his breath. He lifted a hand with an extended finger motioning for Lucifer to give him one second. The sound of heavy panting filled the air, broken by the occasional cough.

“S-sorry… Luci!” Vox spoke between another fit of coughing. “If water gets into my head it can be really bad! My head runs a little hotter than the rest of me so it just melts when it calls on my head. I want--” Cough Cough “Wanted to minimize the damage.”

Lucifer shook his head, holding his hand to stop his apology too little too late. “That sounds… inconvenient! That means it must be terrifying to go out in the rain!”

“Awful! Hate it! So yeah! This head kind of sucks. Scratch that, this whole body sucks! I’m a machine but I have the soul and mind of a human. I lost my face, my hands keep ripping my clothes, and my body underneath all this is… much weirder than getting shocked when you bite my neck.” The insecurity in Vox’s voice came bleeding through. The sound of panting continued, with Vox shutting his eyes trying to shove away the guilt he felt for venting at that moment.

Lucifer lowered his head, looking at the brown coat draped around his shoulders. He could see the tell-tale signs of duct tape repairing the leather in a hack job. The pockets were the worst, with thin strips lined multiple times until it was more like a Ship of Theseus paradox.

The tribulations of a sinner were hardly something Lucifer ever bothered to take a close look at. But one look at that pained smile trying to push away how much the struggle of his new life was and a new pang of guilt stabbed his heart. He didn’t doubt the man earned his place there, but did he truly earn eternal damnation?

There was a long hallway that led to exactly two rooms and then the other part of the stairs that led to the third floor. It didn’t seem like a particularly large complex, and Vox took them into the one straight down the hall.

The interior was depressing. Unlike the luxurious quarters that Lucifer kept, this man lived in depravity. It was cold even inside these walls, barely much warmer than it’d been outside. None of the furniture matched, the couch had stuffing coming and been patched in places with more duct tape. Lucifer put both coats on the rack by the door, taking off his shoes to tuck them beside it.

Vox followed his lead, haphazardly tossing his shoes against the wall. With a roll of his shoulders, Vox sighed and guided Lucifer further inside. Pointing to the closest door on the right.

“That’s the bathroom if you need to go. I… might have something to snack on in the fridge. You can help yourself. I’ll see if I have a spare blanket for you.”

A small closet in between the bedroom and the bathroom opened, blocking Vox from view. The space was tight, the door almost didn’t even have enough clearance to open all the way.

“That won’t be necessary.” Lucifer struggled to speak with confidence, each step deliberate as he closed the space between the two of them. The linen closet door clicked close, with Vox shooting Lucifer a quizzical look.

“You’ll freeze without it. Trust me, it’s not much warmer here than outside. The insulation in this place sucks.”

The shorter man shook his head, tugging on his bowtie. The fabric came loose until it’d become a long red ribbon with the bow on the end hanging around his neck.

“Not if we share your bed,” Lucifer suggested.

Vox spun around, shutting the door. That same heated look of a blush returned to his face. He motioned over his body to remind Lucifer who he was dealing with. Lucifer came around the side, closing the space between them until Vox was pressing his back against the closet door. It was a comical sight, with how much he towered over the angel.

“D-didn’t you hear me, Luci? This… this won’t help you feel be-- MMM!”

Sparks flew overhead the instant Lucifer’s hand laid over his belly. All the fight, every word of protest the taller man might have was swallowed into silence and a sheepish gaze while those ashen hands laid over his waist, tracing his fingers to explore the curve and dips of his body. His thumbs ran along the hip bone, falling over where the pants kept him from going any further.

“L-Luci?” The name sounded so weak coming from Vox.

Lucifer craned his head back, meeting those owlish eyes. “Let me be an adult and make my own bad decisions Vox. You might not be able to decide if you like me. But you covered me with your jacket just because I was cold, offered a stranger whose name you didn’t know a place to sleep for a night, and kept me from spiraling from the worst day of my life. All I want is to be beneath you tonight, to forget… everything”

The apprehension in Vox’s body melted away. The silence stretched, with Vox finally prying his hands away from the door to reach out for the smaller man. Lucifer flinched, expecting admonishment, hatred, blame, or starry-eyed respect for the king. What he got was a gentle stroke through his golden hair.

“If-- you’re sure you’re O.K. with me. To be honest, I’ve been… hoping I could entertain the thought of a dream tonight too. To at least pretend for a night that I love you, that you love me, that there’s… something still beautiful and fragile in Hell to possess.”

Lucifer leaned into his hand, laying his ashen palm on top of it. It was cold and inhuman, but it belonged to somebody who said they understood him.

“You sound like a poet.”

“Hah… when I was younger, I used to write these plays and dramas for my Mother. I wanted to impress her and inspire her. Then I wanted to inspire everyone else. There were times I wish I were a poet, but all my words on the screen peddled nothing but the propaganda of war and sold lies.” Vox’s fingertips danced across the features of the angel, brushing over the swell of his cheek and the shape of his jaw. The thumb claw pressed against his bottom lip, stealing a kiss. “But I did get good at telling people the kinds of things they wanted to hear.”

Lucifer broke out into nervous laughter. He’d intended to be the one to seduce, but he felt like the ball was being thrown back into his court.

“And what do you think I want to hear?”

“You know! It’s the first time I’ve EVER seen snow in hell. Granted, I haven’t lived here long but they are always saying things like… that has a snowball's chance in hell yeah?” Vox broke into what Lucifer believed to be a non-sequitur.

“Yes?”

“Well! There’s a snowball somewhere in hell right now! A snowball's chance in Hell you and I would ever find somebody who made us feel at least a little less alone. A miracle… Maybe it’s a cosmic sign we were meant to meet each other on this day?” The more Vox spoke, the less confidence he had. The once confident touch faltered with his wavering smile.

It still squeezed at the angel’s heart. As long as he remained Luci… Vox would continue to look at him like this. But one more lie to compound on this night fabricated by wishes and dreams.

“Vox… There's no such thing as fate. That’s all humans say to accept things they can’t control or to make something sound far more romantic than it is. The divine tapestry is many things but… this wasn’t preordained.”

“That’s what makes it more of a miracle, isn’t it? You and I meeting here tonight only happened because of two very unlikely scenarios happening. I got attacked and decided to run down that exact street and bump into you on the one night you run from whatever demons are haunting you. Any small change in our lives would likely have made us miss each other forever. But we didn’t.”

Maybe it was the gentle way he looked at Lucifer in some vain hope that the two didn’t have to be as alone as they thought they were. Or the man was hoping for anything to stave off the incomprehensible loneliness he felt now that he lost his one rock through millennia? He bumped his head against Vox’s belly, wrapping his arms around his waist. Nervously Vox’s claws hovered around his shoulders, unsure if it was OK to touch him. Lucifer leaned into the touch, until he felt comfortable enough to let his hands settle.

The navy blue legs almost stood out, with weaving of light blue on his inner thighs showing that not all of him was quite as human. Lucifer didn’t raise his head, burying his face further into the toned belly, riding his hands up his back until he felt an odd indent in Vox’s back.

“S-shh…! T-those are my ports. I charge from there and also can use them like… another prehensile appendage.” Vox explained.

Lucifer raised his head, applying more pressure there. The man underneath him squirmed, drawing his claws against the door as a hissed breath escaped his screen. “L-Luci...” The sound of the angel’s alias dropping from the lips of a man was so new, so exciting his arms locked hard around the sinner. The ministrations continued, finding another new closed port to trace his fingers around the outline. Vox turned his head, biting on a knuckle of his hand.

“It’s… weird-- and s-sensitive.” He insisted, with another inhale. Ignoring his protests, Lucifer snuck his hand beneath Vox’s shirt and touched it directly. Electricity immediately coursed through his body, sending tingles through Lucifer’s body that would have hurt any human. But they made Lucifer shiver in delight. A devilish grin spread across Lucifer’s face, adding kisses against the bare belly against his face.

“Then you shouldn’t look so cute when I’m touching you.” A long black tail whipped about behind the fallen angel. His teeth tugged on the shirt, peeling it back to reveal the dark skin of Vox’s belly. A sound like a whimper rang from above, further inciting the king. His wife Lillith never got this cute, this obedient for him. Lucifer peppered his belly with kisses, coming close to the boxers. Even if Vox tried to hold back how excited he was by gasping and biting his hand again, the twisted expression on his screen told all his secrets.

Lucifer traced a fingertip along the length, immediately evoking a strangled choke from Vox and another groove drawn in the door. A claw came down hard on his head, cyan blades digging into his golden locks but Lucifer wasn’t dissuaded. The resistance he could give while his legs were shaking was pitiful. Then he upped the ante, sinking his teeth directly into his wide earning a strangled noise from Vox.

When Lucifer raised his head, he found that Vox’s screen had become an odd pattern of black blocks. That was unexpected.

“Vox?”

No answers.

While the man was comatose, Lucifer opened the bedroom door and picked up the larger man. One arm hooked around the back of his knees and another holding his back with the frame of his head tucked against his shoulder, he fell into the angel’s arms. His body went limp in his arms, he was cold as a corpse thanks to being out in the cold recently, but the fans running a mile a minute within his body gave him confidence he wasn’t unconscious.

Lucifer carried Vox into the bedroom and gently laid him out on the bed. Immediately after he clambered on top, positioning his hands on either side of the head and his knees positioned by Vox’s hips. While Vox was unresponsive, he traced the muscled body beneath him. The toned abs with such lean strength hidden beneath the loose-fitting shirt he wore. A physique completely unlike his own. He was excited.

When that monochrome face returned, he was faced with eyes that took up the majority of Vox’s screen. His eyes bounced along the limits of the screen, taking in the sudden change in the environment, and landed on the man hovering above him.

“I’ve seen people go into shock before, but I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone do that because I bit them. You truly find me that beautiful?” Lucifer wondered, lowering his body until it came flush against Vox’s. His hands cradled the cherry wood finish, his thumbs running along the sides of the box.

The sinner’s Adam's apple bobbed.

“Absurdly so! I keep thinking to myself, ‘I can’t fuck this up’! This guy’s gorgeous, SEXY as hell, and weirdly… interested in me. I’d like to see what he looks like when he’s NOT having the worst day of his life.’”

Lucifer pressed his forehead in the space between Vox’s eyes, feeling the warmth and the static from the other side. The feel of that cold claw running through Lucifer’s hair returned, with him instinctively curling to hug the box.

“You really want me to still be here in the morning?”

A jab of a claw poked his cheek. Vox yanked his hand back with an apology but Lucifer snatched his wrist and pressed the palm against his cheek. Nuzzling into it like a cat, while a smile came over his face.

“You saved my ass more than once tonight and you touch me without giving me weird looks. Even if nothing else, it’d be nice to have a friend in hell.” Vox lifted Lucifer by the shoulder to put some space between them, stealing the angel’s lips in a kiss. He followed the sinner’s lead, brushing lips in a desperate chase to the faint buzz he felt each time they touched. There was a faint prick of pain when Vox’s sharkish teeth bit into his bottom lip, and an electrifying feeling as those large hands brushed over his body without hesitation.

Fingers intertwined, the two became one until the aching cold that made up Vox’s living matched the intense fire burning in the core of The Devil himself. Their hearts beating as one, seeking not only each others bodies but the comfort of another soul in the wild crazy world that didn’t know how to hold back it’s punches.

Unable to face the reality back home, Lucifer had welcome a Sinner to indulge in his body and he sank into a wonderful pit of euphoria and the tenderness reflected in those digital eyes that constantly reassured him that he was the most beautiful thing in all worlds. That he was still worthy of love, that somebody could still crave his company.

When their bodies had been born to their limit, buried his face into Lucifer’s shoulder as the two caught their breath. Nothing but the sound of their breath filling the air for the longest time, with a gentle light of the dawn coming in from the bedroom window.

“I’m… exhausted. I think I’ll sleep like a log tonight. After you go to the bathroom, would you be up for cuddling until we fall asleep?” Vox pushed up his body, pulling out and allowing Lucifer’s legs to fall back against the bed. He could see the wince of pain when his limbs returned to a proper position.

Vox collapsed onto his side, lying at the perfect distance where he could brush the back of his claws against Lucifer’s cheeks. And like some monster, Lucifer leaned into that touch, turning the palm over so he could feel that soothing cold hand bring down the intense heat in his face. The pad of Vox’s thumb brushed over his cheek, a kind of affection he could still remember when he and Lillith were still madly and utterly in love. It was a painful reminder that made him feel more alone than ever before.

Vox was right.

He was so terribly right.

Lucifer shuffled out of bed, shooting Vox one more smile as he left the room.

“You were right, nature calls! I’ll be right back!” He promised, rushing into the small bathroom on the right. The moment he closed the door he pulled back the toilet set and took a seat, burying his face into the palms of his hands.

It felt more real than ever now. He’d done an act he couldn’t take back, he slept with somebody besides Lillith. Got close to a man only to push away the unbearable loneliness in his heart while having no space in his own to return even an ounce of the tenderness Vox had given him tonight. He could feel the chill of those hands touching his hair and his face. The way his eyes turned so tender, or the tender tone of his voice when he let the vulnerability peek through.

In the end, Lucifer ended up spending so long in the bathroom washing his face and going over his thoughts that when he’d finally walked into the bedroom he found the man already fast asleep with his arm stretching out in the spot where he left him. Lucifer sighed and walked over to the side of the bed, pulling the blanket over to cover his body. The window across the room still showed snow flurries falling.

He set his hand on top of the boxy frame, tracing the wood grain watching the rise and fall of his chest. At that moment, Vox’s fingers clenched, reaching for a man who wasn’t there. He bent down, pressing a kiss to the top of his head and his parting words.

“Goodbye Vox. Tonight was… special to me. I’m not the man you believed me to be. In fact… They call me The Betrayer and it’s for a good reason. I wish I could have the capacity to reach for your hand and stay a little longer, but I’m empty. I’ll pray to the Angels you find somebody who won’t steal that tender heart of yours. But I know nothing good stays in hell… because of people like me.”

With a regretful smile, Lucifer used magic to redress himself in an instant and walked away. He looked back, once when he closed the bedroom door behind him.

When Vox woke later that day, he immediately stretched his hand out for a body that wasn’t there. His hand groped the sheets, when he had found it completely empty he sat up and held his head.

“Luci are you still in the bath--”

The daylight streaming in through the window was a telltale sign that the dawn had come and gone. It was the first time Vox had ever seen snowfall in Hell. And like the snow, it brought with it a beautiful memory that melted without a trace. Left alone, Vox sat up and brushed his hands over his bare body. He never slept in the nude, hating the freakish body he’d been given. But he felt beautiful, for one night at least.

“I guess… I’ll never be good enough for anyone to stay.”

[bengiyo]

Boys Be Brave Eps 5 & 6 Stray Thoughts

Last week, Jeong Gi Seop continued his pursuit of Kim Jin Woo by altering himself to meet Jin Woo’s criteria, including feminizing his appearance and getting a tattoo of a mole. Jin Woo bumped into a woman that was his exact type, and he hers, in a library, and the two went on a date. However, Jin Woo was thinking about Gi Seop the whole time. It seems this young lady knows Gi Seop and hates his ass. Meanwhile, we learned that the sides were close in high school until Balgeum’s poverty got in the way and he ghosted Ji In Ho.

Episode 5: Someone I can like

Is this young Gi Seop? Was he a sickly child?

I see, he learned to fake it to keep his sister from worrying too much and then projected that onto everyone.

Kang Hye Jin is so valid. Gi Seop is ridiculously emotionally stunted and hurting people with his behavior.

Thank you, Balgeum, for telling this man to figure out his feelings and confess. He’s working my nerves.

They really wanted us to understand how poor Balgeum is by having this man use hold file cabinets for basic storage in his apartment.

I love pragmatic housewarming gifts like toilet paper.

This seems like a lot of food to order for Balgeum. He definitely wants this to go well. I’m touched.

I’d like to think Balgeum unconsciously left the socks out in the hopes that Ji In Ho would see them.

I’m really feeling Ji In Ho and the way he just wants to be around Choi Balgeum.

Kang Hye Jin joins the ranks of our Korean bisexual women holding it down in their shows.

The fact that Kim Jin Woo and Kang Hye Jin have switched swings from before feels significant.

Recognizing that they made their ideal type lists to spite Jeong Gi Seop feels like important growth for them. I also like that they were able to speak openly with each other because they feel so similar.

It’s kind of interesting how this show has put so many barriers between these two that I don’t even feel bad about this misunderstanding.

Episode 6: Realizing your feelings and confessing

I feel some kinda way about Kim Jin Woo feeling like he should have confessed. He observed Gi Seop disappoint scores of people who confessed to him.

See, this is the thing that bothered me from jump: Gi Seop knew he was leaving the country. Pushing Kim Jin Woo wasn’t a great choice. Why stir this man’s feelings just to bail on him?

This turn about recognizing that he can’t say no to people, but sees that he does like Jin Woo isn’t totally landing for me.

Hm, I am curious what they intend to do by drawing a line between the dad and Gi Seop.

I am having flashbacks to when some folks let me down and reserved tickets at the wrong theater and then didn’t tell us they changed the plan and four of us went to the wrong theater.

Oh nooo, Balgeum is embarrassed by his poverty again.

Thank you, Ji In Ho, for hugging this man and not just letting him run away again.

I wanna get Ji In Ho’s story. What feelings has he been sitting with this whole time?

Once again, trains playing an integral part in my little gay stories. Americans, take notes. Talk to your leaders. Fast and frequent buses and intercity trains will begin the process.

The episode title said this was about confessing, and only the sides confessed! This hug doesn’t count!

I am really feeling the relationship between the sides in this one. We don’t have to say gay between Choi Balgeum and Ji In Ho for me to feel it there. I am so invested in the two of them figuring out if they can work even if Ji In Ho has more prospects. However, the continued weirdness with the mains remains an emotional barrier for me. I am glad we finally got some answered about Jeong Gi Seop this week, and now I need to know what he actually wants for himself since I suspect he’s only agreed to study abroad because he was saying yes to his sister.

[deviousdevilx]

Ooh so I watched a video by a Youtuber I like, F.D Signifier titled, What really makes a man desirable?

And being my brain is stuck on CK right now.

I doubt it was the intent of the writers, Daniel for me represents a more healthy, balanced masculinity. He's also not the "ideal" man that MEN VALUE. He's short, slender, not the big macho tough guy and yet who has an amazing wife? business? nice house, two kids, is generally living the American dream without being the an "alpha" male?? DANIEL LARUSSO. He has it "all".

While Johnny was the dude suffering within toxic masculinity, he was an alcoholic, but slowly got his shit together, and (if the writers did his character justice), we'd see him embrace Miyagi-Do teachings more fully, or make his own (which they kinda do with his Eagle Fang), and let go of all that toxic Cobra Kai bullshit he was fed by Kreese.

And Kreese and Terry Silver(my wife), are prime examples of being "alpha" males; tough, macho, masculine, tall, rich, etc but they are essentially alone. Terry did kinda have the ideal life, but he dropped it all when Kreese came to him (and his obsession with Daniel but this ain't a Silverusso post lol). Like Terry's girlfriend was likely a shallow relationship, his Malibu life looked ideal but it felt hollow. Otherwise why did he give it up? and yet so many young boys and men are told to get rich, be tall, fit and you'll be happy and yet Terry Silver who embodies that isn't a happy man.

And Kreese? That dude is FUCKED UP. Sure Vietnam fucked him up, but his beliefs, ideals, his overall motto of no mercy, life is war bullshit, is pure toxic masculinity and what has it gained him? A life of loneliness. He could have formed a found family, he was able to connect with his students (he cared about Tory but only to a certain extent). He had TERRY willing to be his partner again but he went back to a hierarchal bullshit mindset. His hierarchal thinking ensures he will never connect with anyone in any meaningful way.

Also look at how Chozen once letting go all all that BS made him a happier man! Which is why he admires Daniel as much as he does. That twink kicking his ass, and bringing him so low, made him see the path he was on wasn't good, it brought him misery and he chose better, a new path forward. And Johnny to an extent as well, also is or was heading that same way (fuck you writers lol)

Like who is more desirable fora lot of female fans? My bet is Daniel, while it's more male fans who view themselves as Johnny (and why we get a lot of Daniel hate but like if you are a dude who wants to date ladies, be more like Daniel or Chozen and less like Johnny, or Kreese, or Terry, and yes we all thirst for Terry but I wouldn't wanna date a rich guy like that who'd likely not view me as an equal, and would drop me so fast over Daniel)

[rockybloo]

There's a lot of fun in writing Freebird is how he and Bitterbat have cat-and-mouse dynamic where no matter what stunt Freebird pulls, Bitterbat always outsmarts him.

It'd be hell on my brain cells to write Freebird and not have justice being served after every gross thing he says to or about Sweetheart under the belief she is just playing hard to get.

Bitterbat obviously wants that man dead. He hates him with all his heart and wishes the worse for him.

Freebird wishes the same. In all his years of knowing Sweetheart, he never had a single worry about her ending up with someone else. She was far above of the leagues of all the other heroes.

He was def concerned about Gabe but after learning about him being Delight's boyfriend, he eased up some. He def isn't a fan of Sweetheart having male friends...because of course he isn't, but he can live with it.

So the Freeheart ship survived for a good while as the top ship on the Sweetheart list...until Bitterbat showed up.

And that man flipped Freebird's entire world upside down along with his expectations for Sweetheart.

She was the most professional hero he knew, so imagine the surprise over witnessing her get all flustered and a mess because of this new guy on the block. A new guy who really isn't as new as Freebird thinks because he doesn't know about the whole history between the Beloveds and Flavor Four.

If he did, he would have been worried about Bitterbat since day one of meeting Sweetheart. But being a hero stationed primarily in mainland America means he typically isn't interested in hero lore outside of the first 50 states.

Truly an American hero, some may say.

So the second he sees that Bittersweet has over throned Freeheart on the Sweetheart shipping list, Freebird realizes he has a problem. He can't escape Bitterbat's name either because it follows very close behind Sweetheart. That bird lived in a blissful ignorance where he could enjoy only Sweetheart's name making headlines but now he's hard pressed to find a single thing that doesn't mention her new archenemy right along with her.

He makes his dislike of Bitterbat very clear and verbal. He disses him any chance he is brought up, especially during talk shows and interviews.

He questions his appearance, especially his taste in clothing. Freebird has very traditional western ideals of what he thinks a man should look like and hipless pants that let half your ass hang out along with earrings, nail polish, lipstick, mascara, and what Freebird falsely believes to be fake eyelashes does not fit those ideals. It's needless to say that Freebird thought Bitterbat was girl at first until he heard him speak.

And even then, that man struggled with figuring out if Bitterbat actually had boobs or pecs upon first glance during a live news recording of him battling Sweetheart.

I'd say hearing Bitterbat speak pissed him off even further because of the sass dripping off every sentence he delivers. It just finalized that Bitterbat was the antithesis of all Freebird's ideals of a guy.

So that man was at a complete loss when he saw Bitterbat flirt with Sweetheart and even manage to kiss her along with declaring his love and vow to steal her heart and make her his queen.

Bitterbat basically speedran becoming Freebird's #1 enemy and that bird was a squawking mess of fury after the battle. He tried everything he could to request that bat to be out on his official list of villains he could deal with because he was under the belief that Bitterbat was a weakling.

An idea that was soon stomped out after witnessing some of the leftovers Bitterbat liked to leave behind from previous confrontations with other cocky heroes and villains.

The first chance Freebird got, he flew to Decking City and did his best to talk some sense into Sweetheart, claiming that Bitterbat was too much for her to handle. She obviously rejected the notion stating she was more than capable of dealing with Bitterbat and she was the only one who could.

And when Freebird dared to bring up Bitterbat's more physical romantic advances on her, Sweetheart cut him off before he could tarnish Bitterbat's name by stating how bold it was for him to assume that Bitterbat's actions were unwelcome. She had even gone so far as to say they were far more desirable than his own.

There are no words suffice enough to describe how much Freebird's world and future shattered in just one week. And his world just continues to get shaken up again and again every time Bitterbat rears his bat-winged head.

The most merciful thing Bitterbat does to Freebird is keep his true relationship with Sweetheart a secret, playing into the act it's all one sided and he is merely a villain with the hots for his hero.