#6. I tried to google it just now but I just typed ''his name was horseradish'' into the search bar

[howtobeamagicalgirl]

1. I am sick and my throat hurts so bad and my voice is all scratchy and rough, and unfortunately I am obsessed with my new sexy sick voice and I keep talking just to hear myself talk and believe it or not, this makes it worse.

2. What was Popeye the Sailor's baby's name. Horseradish

3. When I was a child, I thought the word "arithmetic" was pronounced "arth-uh-mat-ic." For some reason.

4. Today at work a little girl was screaming and crying bc she was scared of another child (for no reason I can discern), and she was trying to climb my leg screaming "DADDYYYYY DADDYYYYY" bc she doesn't know how to pronounce my name and "daddy" is basically a second-person pronoun to her, and the classroom assistant in the room with me at the time was like "why daddy and not mommy. is she. motherless." And I said "yeah, she has two dads" and she looked at me blankly for a minute before asking "how is that possible."

[tommyssupercoolblog]

HERE ARE 55 FANFIC IDEAS/PROMPTS (some detailed, some not) that i wrote down in google docs to make septicinnit fics for but never did actually made full fics of; some are short one sentence ideas and others are full plots!!!

I posted these because there was a time period where we were super hyperfixated on writing together (almost like a d&d roleplay but you're yourselves and also it's just text) as like our main bonding hobby and wrote down way too many fucking ideas- we don't rlly write like that anymore (we do other stuff when we hangout or have dates) and so most of these have been sitting in our google docs for a long time and i felt bad abt wasting them. now though!!! they won't rot away in the secret depths of google docs!!!

soulmates switch bodies, (through TIME) on a specific birthday. So, when tmy turns (age), he switches bodies with a s3án of the SAME age. Neither of them will remember the experience after, so it's their job to leave clues or enlist friends to help them track their Soulmate down. tmy's friends gather the night before his birthday and vow to figure out who his soulmate is and help him find them. (Past!s3án is very confused about all the things that have changed (tech, gay marriage being legal) and also very awkward because he's still an anxious bean.) (can you tell we wrote this one after a Your Name rewatch)

2. THEY MAKE A LONG FURBY TOGETHER!!!!! They both help design, scrap, sew and put it together by hand, and they decide on a name together, and it ends up becoming their sort of child and now they’re gay parents of a long furby (maybe they aren’t together when they decide to make it but they end up bonding over the furby and it helps them get together in a way??)

3. Coffee Shop AU where s3án is the owner and barista at T0p 0f Th3 M0rn1ng C0ff3e, which in the fic is an actual physical coffee shop. tmy becomes his first regular customer and also flirts with him over the counter a lot.

4. The five times tmy tries to hit on s3án and fails miserably (except shhh no he doesn't), and the one time he’s actually successful.

5. Sickfic again (I wrote one already) but it’s established relationship and S3án'S one who gets sick this time. Tmy is very determined to take good care of him, help walk him around the house when/if he needs it, make him soup, etc. Maybe he tries to cook but is kind of bad at it and S3án eats it anyway. Maybe tmy brushes his hair out of his face to check his temperature,,, hhhh fluff

6. tmy and s3án going to the movies and having a good time. That's it. That's the prompt.

7. s3án teaches tmy about The Wheel Of The Year and a bunch of celtic pagan traditions and stories (and some catholic ones, of course, bc he grew up in that too) and tmy EATS THAT SHIT UP bc anything remotely s3án-related is precious to him

8. Tmy finds out that there's services where you can just. Pay to go on a date with some guy (or other person), like a rental-boyfriend type thing. He’s like, “Yeah. I can go on a date with some guy to try it (being gay) out. Why not?” and while you can make requests, he decides, “fuck it, why browse the catalouge and make myself more anxious, I’ll just have them send some random guy”. Turns out, s3án works there part-time. Also turns out, he gets selected to go be tmy’s date. Oops.

9. ICE SKATING ICE SKATING ICE SKATING ICE SKATING BARKBARKBARK

10. tmy pretending to purr every time s3án shows him affection to be annoying

11. They keep fucking flirting on stream and everyone is so annoyed because they will NOT stop hitting on each other and playing it up and it’s like. “Get a fucking room ohh my god,,,”

12. S3án goes to a party with his friends and uses an ouija board, but this accidentally lets tmy into the human realm where he follows him home and haunts him!!!! Does silly shit like moving magnets on the fridge to spell penis or drinking all the milk or going just solid enough to throw a pillow at him and then becoming un-physical again so he can’t retaliate. (the pranks and haunting are actually just bc he thinks S3án is cute tho. And S3án ends up warming up to it.)

13. s3án is TRYING to make cookies but tmy keeps attempting to steal batter from the bowl, and it escalates into a food fight for the history books (ofc they have to clean up after)

14. MAKING 👏 PLAYLISTS👏 FOR 👏 EACH 👏 OTHER 👏👏

15. tmy’s anxiety gets out of hand and he starts overworking himself. s3án’s been there (I mean, he used to upload every day for christ’s sake) and so he does his best to help.

16. s3án is crushing on tmy and gets pretty upset about tmy flirting with…. every guy ever on twitter (and also on stream) but tries to hide it. tmy realizes he's jealous/pining and confronts him about his feelings.

17. Animal Hybrid Au where tmy's like. A Feral cat (or smthn like that. Maybe a vulture instead?) and keeps bringing s3án (human or more domestic animal) dead things and at first s3án’s very put off by it but he warms up to it over time

18. tmy wants to do a storytime vlog of his first kiss but realizes he's technically never kissed anyone on the lips, so tries to convince s3án to kiss him (on camera) for the clout. 

19. s3án gets into an argument with someone who's saying mean shit about tmy, and they turn to insulting s3án instead (maybe even making threats). It is at this point that tmy conveniently stumbles upon the conversation and immediately tries to THROW HANDS

20. tmy going to a party, having a hangover, and then s3án caring for him and helping him get better.

21. s3án helping tmy when he wants to try painting his nails for the first time <<<3

22. tmy tries to be flirty/romantic to s3án in Irish bc. He’s irish. But conveniently forgets that even IN ireland everyone speaks english because the language is basically dead. s3án is. Confused. And only gets like half of the words

23. tmy being emberassed abt how he hordes things and s3án showing tmy his own little weird quirks so he feels better

24. They’re both autistic and adhd - tmy has internalized ableism like younger s3án did and s3án helps him slowly realize it’s ok that he needs extra help and stuff for things.

25. Another autism one- tmy helping s3án through a sensory overload!!!

26. ANOTHER another autism one- s3án slowly piecing together some of why tmy does stuff he does, like learning he likes routines and sameness and figuring out he genuine;y cant tell when someone is annoyed with him (cough cough… mr b34st hates me video…) and helps him out, supports him, just accommodates him and tries to explain to other ppl when they don’t get it. Also sees himself in some of these things to a lesser extent and ends up figuring out they’re both autistic as hell

27. They start flirting and calling each other their boyfriends as a bit and then uh oh! It's not a bit anymore !!!! because they’re literally cuddling wearing each others clothes and everyone just reads it as actually being gay and because the jokes aren’t really jokes anymore the flirting is beginning to hit different

28. (Based on the Time Source!tmy had a beard for like. A bit) s3án hyping tmy up when he grows a beard bc tmy's so happy with it and s3án wants to support his weird fashion choice

29. Snowed in :0000 ??!!!!! SNOWED IN???? And eventually the heater breaks and they have to huddle for warmth????

30. Since tmy can sing and play piano, he decides to give s3án a little private concert to subtly (or well, not that subtly) reveal his feelings and. It’s very cute

31. s3án kisses tmy at a con when they think no one's looking, but the next morning it's all over the internet. s3án is definitely terrified but tmy is feeling even worse, so he comforts him and they take care of each other, staying in the hotel to wait for things to blow over and trying not to go outside

32. Fic where tmy speaks a fluent second language, and a mutual friend of him and s3án speaks the same language- unknown to tmy. This friend hears tmy confess in this language and now has to cover for him, KNOWING he has a crush on s3án. This gets worse when they are out shopping and s3án, talking in korean w a cashier who speaks it, shyly admits to the cashier that he’s buying something for a crush, ALSO NOT KNOWING that this friend speaks THAT LANGUAGE TOO, before handing it over to tmy as a gift a few minutes after they leave. So NOW they have to live with the knowledge that both of these fuckers like each other, but they also don't wanna be a fucking snitch. Comedy.

33. s3án and tmy are chilling when Uh Oh, Religious Trauma!!!! tmy cuddles him and comforts him until he feels better. Major angst and hurt/comfort

34. one of them goes on some sort of podcast and when the hosts mention the other he almost immediately accidentally leaks that they're together lol

35. tmy’s drawing, and for background noise, starts listening to music he knows s3án likes to try and feel closer to him. 

36. s3án and tmy TRY to watch a Generic Seasonal Movie ™ (Christmas or Halloween) On Netflix to try and get into the spirit, but they’re too hyperactive to pay attention and so they give up halfway through and go out to get fast food.

37. They're talking to a third party when s3án slips in conversation and calls tmy “his” tmy. tmy is ELATED

38. AQUARIUM DATE *foams at mouth*

39. tmy gets kinda nervous that no one takes him seriously bc of how extra™️ and loud and hyper he is and also because he likes pretty childish stuff and s3án helps out and it's pog

40. :00 showering together /nsx

41. Soulmate AU where the first time your soulmate kisses you (anywhere), it leaves colors on your skin for a bit

42. Obligatory beach episode; s3án is shirtless and tmy is GAY or vice versa

43. s3án helping tmy through a thunderstorm (bc those are scary as FUCK)

44. S3án trying to teach tmy how to play 3ld3n R1ng or D4rk S0uls and tmy is...bad at it

45. Delirious giggly all nighter softness. Maybe w snacks??? They’re so eepy and sleepy,,,,, they’re so uwu,,,,,

46. Meeting!! tmy’s!!! Parents!!! s3án already met them at tmy’s show but now he’s meeting them as tmy’s BOYFRIEND and he’s lowkey nervous as hell

47. s3án realizes he likes tmy, and because he’s a hopeless romantic he starts listening to embarrassingly cutesy generic love songs about it. That's it that's the prompt I just think it's funny to imagine Jck S3ptic Eye, heavy metal fan, listening to 3d Sh3eran or even kpop like Twic3 or some other cutesy kpop group LMAOOOOO. His headphones unplug on accident or some shit and it's T4yl0r Sw1ft’s “You Belong With Me” and he's cripplingly embarrassed. like. It's so funny to me.

48. tmy1nn1t starts sleeping with a jcks3pt1c3ye stuffed animal (like the t0tm coffee one) and tries to keep it a secret because he's emberassed, but he goes over to s3án's house and s3án forgets to his his own tmy1NN1T stuffed animal, which tmy sees very obviously in his bed next to his pillow when he comes over.

49. In which people's hearts/feelings can manifest physically if they ignore and repress them enough, so tmy gets stuck trying to wrangle another, tinier little nonverbal chibi tmy (like three to four inches tall) that is extremely obvious abt his feelings for s3án and VERY intent about getting his attention. One day, s3án comes over and tmy locks the smaller tmy in a drawer, but this mini tmy manages to escape, hitching a ride in s3án’s bag so he can be with him and follow him around. When tmy realizes what's happened, he's HORRIFIED and tries to figure out where s3án's going/been to try and get the his heart back before s3án figures it out, and of course at the same time s3án ends up slowly realizing he has a little hitchhiker and taking care of him. He thinks the little tmy is very cute and is endeared by him, and also figures out he has a crush because tiny tmy is the opposite of subtle and very obvious on purpose (kissing him where he can reach and stuff, begging for attention by whining like a puppy and making happy little noises when it is RECEIVED) By the time tmy catches up with him his little self is like. Hugging s3án’s hand/finger all affectionate and squeaking happily while s3án, petting the little guy, looks up to the actual tmy and is like. “i assume this is yours lol?”

50. S3án realizing he likes tmmy and then being really shy around him after and kind of caught off guard/embarrassed by it. That being said he cannot get it together and stop acting like a nervous little kid w a crush, he’s so shy and flustered and it's so painfully obvious how he feels that he’s kicking himself. Thankfully Tmy is immune to social cues so it’s only obvious to literally everyone else. Tmy is harem protagonist levels of dense to the point s3án would think it was on purpose if he didn’t know him well enough to know he is just Like That- and he only puts it together when he is told DIRECTLY and CLEARLY that s3án likes him, where upon he is super starstruck and confused (really??? For real??? U like me??? ME???? omg???) like it hasn’t been on a billboard in bold letters for months. (this is a very autistic prompt. Autism wins)

51. Classic “truth or dare kiss and whoopsies i liked it too much” but the twist?? It’s drunk and on a livestream so they have to have the internal panic afterwords live and mask it despite being too drunk to do it well at all

52. Secret admirer trope,,,,, woah,,,,,,

53. You get a specific task you have to complete to reveal who your soulmate is. Tmy's task is to fold a thousand paper cranes. He enlists s3án for help, they hang out and bond and have a fun time, and S3án is his soulmate yippee!!! (S3án couldn't complete his own task when he got it for whatever reason, so he is also surprised)

54. DOUBLE LIFE AU. DOUBLE LIFE AU. LOOK ME DEAD IN THE FUCKING EYES. DOUBLE LIFE AU

55. S3án is a shapeshifter/changeling and Tmmy is a bard type magic user who finds out about this mysterious shapeshifter a few towns over and is VERY intrigued and then he meets him and he's not only a shapeshifter but also this silly loud guy who's honestly very weird and pretty and tmy is like. "I am going to seduce this funky little magic creature if it litterally fucking kills me".

[tiredstressedemotionalmess]

6, 10, 11, 22, 32? for the fanfic ask game :]

6. Do you have your work beta'd? How important is this to your process?

i think i've only had my writing beta'd once or twice. generally, im so excited to post something that i post almost as soon as i finish writing 😅 i usually do some quick editing once i paste everything into ao3 bc their spell check and shit is sooo much better than google docs, and i obsessively reread everything at least three times before i even get to that point and consider it done. in theory i would like to have my shit beta'd more often because the few times ive done it i did find it genuinely super helpful! but i feel bad asking people to do it for me and again im too impatient for my own good so i really only ask people to beta if i am STRUGGLING with what im writing to an extreme degree and i know i NEED a second pair of eyes looking at it or else it'll never get done. i think i get by pretty well without a beta reader but it is something ive thought about trying to do more just bc i feel like it has the potential to really take my writing up a notch, yknow?

10. Cltr+f "blinks" on your WIP & copy paste the first sentence/paragraph that comes up

Ghoul blinks, stuttering as his mouth hangs open and his mind tries to catch up with whatever the fuck is now happening.

11. Link your three favorite fics right now

answered this one here!

22. Are there certain types of writing you won’t do? (style, pov, genre, tropes, etc)

uhhh not really? there's stuff i don't gravitate towards sure (first person, or past tense for example) but even with that i want to try writing in those styles more because i want to get better at them! i can't really think of any way NEVER FUCKING MIND WAIT ANSWER CANCELLED I JUST REMEMBERED CHATFICS EXIST I FUCKING HATE CHATFICS I WOULD RATHER DIE THAN WRITE A CHATFIC OKAY? if you like chatfics if you write chatfics yeah whatever fine you do you peace and love and all that but JESUS CHRIST I HATE THEM SO MUCH I CANT 😭 oh my goddddd and the fucking stupid love triangle trope. you will never fucking see me write a love triangle where the solution is not just polyamory, okay? its such an overused trope that only exits to add ~drama~ with no real fucking stakes or tension and 9 times out of 10 the entire conflict could be resolved by SIMPLE FUCKING COMMUNICATION and its ALWAYS a girl chosing between the most trash human bland guys possible and i feel like they always chose the WORST fucking option in the end and its just. JUST FUCKING DATE BOTH OF THEM OR CHOSE THE ONE WHO TREATS YOU LIKE A REAL HUMAN PERSON FUCK OFFFFFFFFFF

32. Name three of your favorite fanfic writers.

ughhh naming just three is so hard 😭 instantly the first three who come to mind are my beloveds @caffeineecold @bsideheart and @wink-1-8-2 but ive also been obsessively reading @infinity-on-hiii 's stuff recently soooo yeah

[oraclekleo]

Choi Beom Gyu (TXT) Relationship Role Tarot Reading

Disclaimer:

All readings have purely entertainment nature

I don’t know any of the celebrities personally

Don’t base life decisions purely on tarot readings

I can never guarantee any of what’s said in the reading

Before requesting, read the pinned post and appropriate linked post

Tarot readings are my hobby - I’m not obligated to accept any of the requests nor to complete them, it’s my choice, not duty

Waiting time is long, even several months

If you can’t wait, please, seek other tarot reader

Reading Info:

Rating: 18+

Reading Type: Single - Couple

Requested: Yes - No

Requester: /

Deck: The Wild Unknown Tarot

Spread: Relationship Role

Questions:

Friend

Boyfriend

Lover

Husband

One-Night-Stand

Celebrity Info:

Full Name: Choi Beom Gyu

Stage Name: Beomgyu

Group: TXT

DOB: 13.03.2001

Sun Sign: Pisces

Chinese Sign: Metal Snake

Life Path Number: 1

Masterpost: TXT

Ko-fi - Voluntary Tip for Readings

Choi Beom Gyu

Beomgyu (TXT)

Deck: The Wild Unknown Tarot Spread: Relationship Role

Friend - VII The Chariot, 6 of Pentacles

Beomgyu is a good and generous friend. He’s ever so driven and fun to be around. He’s likely to have plenty of friends with all sorts of personalities and backgrounds as Beomgyu discriminates against no one and he can always find the good in people. He’s likely to always share his good fortune with his friends, thinking of their needs and how to make them happy whenever he can.

Boyfriend - II The High Priestess, 8 of Cups

As mentioned before, Beomgyu always looks for the best in people. He’s got very good intuition and can sense harms and pain no matter how hard the other person tries to hide them. Beomgyu is likely to be a highly sensitive boyfriend, maybe even overly sensitive in some cases. His empathy is so strong he might even feel physically ill when his loved one is suffering.

Lover - 3 of Swords, 5 of Pentacles

Beomgyu is a highly sensitive man and as such he might suffer from too many worries when it comes to the physical aspect of love. He might worry he’s not experienced or good enough for his lover, he might fear that if he makes this step, he will be cheated on and betrayed and his heart will be broken as a consequence. All this anxiety exists merely in Beomgyu’s mind and he needs to find a way to silence the voices in his head and overcome the fear. It’s gonna be worth it.

Husband - XVIII The Moon, Mother (Queen) of Swords

Beomgyu doesn’t really feel fit for marriage just yet. It’s something rather abstract for him, the whole concept seems distant and alien to him. He might have even witnessed marriages coming to a bitter end in life and simply doesn’t really consider it something he would like to embrace in his life now. He might change his mind about it in future, however, the queen of swords is a strict card sticking to her principles so it’s possible Beomgyu will remain a bachelor for life.

One-Night-Stand - XIV Temperance, IV The Emperor

Any excesses in matters of sex life are not Beomgyu’s cup of tea. He’s got his principles and high morals and he doesn’t feel right about random love affairs. He’s simply too sensitive to detach from someone he was intimate with in the morning.

Thank you for reading!

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Anonymous Feedback - Google Form

[rattoes420]

For otp! You know it, I know it, you're gonna do it eventually, JERIC

All of em⁉️ alright bet I’m deranged like that

1. Who most initiates PDA?

Eric obvi

2. Any sleep habits either had to get used to?

Eric prob sleeps weird, I’m not elaborating on that, and I think jacks the type of mf who needs to be at a certain level of comfort at night or else he’ll die, he’s willing to let some things pass but not much

3. Jealousy issues?

Yea y’all saw witches of pennbrooke

4. What’s a Night Out for them?

They’ve got range, shits anywhere from nice restaurant to club to breaking into mr Feeny’s car

5. What’s an evening in for them?

Watching films, eating shitty food and being gay and stupid

6. Double Date? Thoughts? Who?

Jeric double date with Rachel and whatever bitch they try and set her up with real (also I’m pushing lesbian Rachel)

7. Do they want (have) kids?

Yea :)))

8. Have an AU thought?

I’ve got a boy meets world remake in my mind and heart (and google docs) if that counts, but so far I haven’t come up with any of my lil batshit completely disconnected shit yet

9. If they got engaged… who proposed?

Jack,,,,

10. How do they deal with the other’s family?

I feel like jack would kinda wanna impress Alan and Amy but overall he gets along with them and like,,, Shawn likes Eric and that’s all that rly matters

11. What is their love language?

Both prob mostly quality time but Eric also probably physical touch

12. How are their communication skills?

Average? I feel like Eric is kinda defined BY his emotional intelligence so that helps but they’ve got their issues (specifically cause of the time gap thing)

13. A little personal… but… Hot and Steamy or Soft and Tender?

Haven’t thought too much about this and if I’m being real idk if I wanna

14. How did they first meet?

K that one is just canon, shoutout to Cory for introducing them, he is a real supporter of the lgbtq+ community

15. Why do they like each other?

They both kinda bring something to each other that they themselves don’t have so they kinda balance each other out and bring out the best in each other because of that, I think that’s kinda why they like each other???? Cause of the differences and new perspectives and shit idk

17. Morning rituals?

Thinking about adult jeric, y’all they have real jobs now and Eric probably has to get up early as fuck, I doubt he’s at all functional when he first gets up, my guy is like “five more minutes” when he’s literally a senator, jack probably read some article once about the healthiest morning routine and has tried to abide by that ever since

18. Evening rituals?

Mfs watch tv and films till one of them falls asleep and I really believe that

19. How are they at parties or gatherings?

Jacks mostly cool and normal, Eric makes things fucking crazy/pos

20. Most cuddly?

ericericeric

21. Movie Night?

Of course they do that shit, oh to be a fly on the wall well they decide to watch a horror film 😔😔😔

22. Who is the photo bug?

Prob Eric but I could see it being jack

23. How well do they know each other’s favorite foods?

Pretty well probably they literally live together (side note but Eric’s either the type of mf to eat like three different type of foods with very little variety or the type of mf to have a new food he’s obsessed with every other week no I’m not elaborating)

24. What do their texts look like?

Adult jeric time :)))) jack has that stereotypical old man texting style, Eric does that weird thing my grandma does where it’s like “congrats on the show today🏄‍♀️🌈🍰”

25. Parenting style?

Dude Eric would literally be such a good dad, fun parent, Eric Matthews be my dad challenge, I think Jack might be worried about fucking up but overall I think he’s do a good job, he’d make sure that kid didn’t die

26. If they have kids, who named them? What would they name them?

I’m not entirely sure?

27. Who brings home an illegal pet?

Eric if either of them (Eric’s not rly a pet guy and jack has a hard enough time taking care of himself)

28. Who takes the longest getting ready to leave?

I’m not sure, this could go either way

29. Who said I Love You, first?

I like the idea of it being jack but it was prob Eric

30. When did they realize they loved each other?

Eric was prob during witches of pennbrooke cause,,,, I love that episode and I like the implications of it,,,, jack I legit think was probably after the end of the series but before girl meets world (I mostly like to think this cause it makes me sad 👍)

[otakween]

Digimon Adventure V-Tamer 01 - Volume 1

I'm doing things slightly out of order here, but I'd like to get to all the side stuff that came out prior to Tamers before I move on from Adventure. This is the first Digimon manga that came out (aside from C'mon Digimon which is contained within this release) so it'll be interesting to see those humble beginnings.

Ch.1

-So I guess this is some alternate universe version of season 1? (Or maybe like a beta version?) The plot feels a little similar to Digimon World where digimon are a battling v-pet IRL and the main character gets sucked into the digital world solo.

-In this version of the story, Taichi has a V-dramon. Unclear so far what level digivolution a V-dramon is or if it's related to Veemon. Zeromaru is a dumb name...

-Goggles AND a cape? That's a bit much Taichi...

-I like how doofy Gabumon looks in this. The digimon are way more cartoony and expressive so far.

-Full color and actual, red blood!? This manga looks fabulous on my tablet <3

Ch. 2

-More Digimon World vibes. The Holy Angel Castle looks a lot like the ice castle that you can only enter if you have a vaccine digimon in the PSX game...

-There's a "should digimon have human partners?" element here that we haven't really seen in the show yet. I feel like this question is inevitable for most mon series.

Ch. 3

-Okay, I'll admit, I didn't see the pun in "Zeromaru" (maru is another way to say zero) until this chapter. I hate the name slightly less now.

-A Tonosama Gekomon and a HolyAngemon are a pretty bizarre combo lol

-I really love the art style in this actually. Chibi-mode Taichi was adorable in this chapter and the colors are really nice as well. I wish we got more full-color manga releases like this one!

-So Demon is gonna be the big bad in this? That's kinda nice actually cuz he got majorly short shrifted in 02. Seems like his design is completely different here. Kinda looks like Ogremon...

Ch. 4

-I kinda like how the wild digimon get names in this. Since every digimon from the same species seems to be pretty much identical, giving them names allows me to become more attached to them.

-Only just realized that I don't really know why Etemon is called Etemon. I tried googling it and the Digimon wiki's explanation didn't really help...

-Pretty wild that Gabo said "God is gone" lol. Also, Digi-world creation myth confirmed.

-The manga's McGuffin was introduced: V-tags. I'm guessing the "V" is for "Virtual," but if you're going to call everything "digi" that seems to go against the branding a bit...

Ch. 5

-Okay Gabo's incessant "You guys need to act more concerned!!" gag is getting really annoying. He says it like every 3 pages!

-I had no memory of Deltamon so I thought he was new, but I guess he appeared in an 02 episode? He's really ugly. Also, how many samey dino digimon designs do we need!?

Ch. 6

-These chapters are super short and since a lot of them are battles, they take like 2 minutes to read. Perfect for young kids I guess!

-That triceratops with pecs was pretty cursed.

Ch. 7

-When the digimon are hurt their skin cracks like they're made of plastic or something. Kind of a weird choice...

-Another thing that differs between the manga and anime is that we see Taichi perform first-aid care after fights. The anime doesn't really show a lot of wounds in the first place and usually the digimon just rest to heal.

Ch. 8

-I was surprised to see MarineDevimon who doesn't appear in the anime until 02. I wish I knew more about which chapters of this came out when because it apparently came out over the course of 5 years (1998-2003) -- Edit: this info is thankfully on the wiki

-In this chapter Gomamon says that Triceramon being a data-type means he's a "good" digimon. In the anime they said that even virus-types can be good. So maybe that's more of a prejudice than a fact? (Or it's just different in the manga).

-Gomamon is so baby in this!

Ch. 9

-This manga reminds me of Yu-Gi-Oh! season 0 where everything is just slightly off.

-The digimon are more blatantly programs and apparently if you go inside them it's just a neon void? Also, I guess the 01 in the manga's title is a reference to binary.

-Let's see how much random stuff the digivice can do in the manga. So far it allows you to scan digimon for their HP and to communicate telepathically.

Ch. 10

-Already 2 out of 5 tags collected which means that this tag collecting thing is probably just one out of many arcs.

-For some reason the official release goes up to chapter 10 for volume 1 but the fan scans go beyond that? I'm going to stick to the official release because 10 is a nice clean end point.

This manga seems pretty typical for a game/anime-tie in for young boys. The chapters are very easily digestible and nothing too deep happens. The magazine it was serialized in, V-Jump was also home to things like Yu-Gi-Oh!, Dragon Ball and Dragon Quest, so the demographic is pretty clear. I'm really enjoying the artwork mostly. I wish there were more character moments but the reoccurring cast is pretty dinky at the moment. Let's see where this goes!

[manythoughtmanyprayers]

it was like 11 something pm, i was doing something on my laptop (i forgot what it was, i just know for sure i wasn't watching the 8th season of Winx - one episode of that shit was enough for me), and i started feeling sleepy. so i thought "hmmmm i should just go to sleep now WHILE I'M SLEEPY so i can get up early tomorrow for my exam in the morning". and it was a good plan, i swear it was.

so i went to wash the rest of the dishes from dinner, brushed my teeth (without bleeding too much this time, slay), dressed my pjs, tried to decide if i should sleep with the pillow that mister Choco Milk (that's his nickname) used last night when he came over or not (decided against, it no longer smelled like him, i will now cry about it), got in my bed and tried my best to NOT touch my phone.

yeah well, i did not fall asleep.

instead i created this whole BL story in my head about a korean boy who moved to America at a young age, who started to listen to kpop and pratice kpop dances because it was a way to still feel like he was back home (since his parents tried to americanize their lives), and he had to stay a few weeks with his neighbors because his parents that to go back to South Korea for family business, and he had to socialize with the neighbors' son who is a hotty in a very natural, Helia from Winx way, who plays volleyball, and the whole purpose of their relationship is for mister Helia to help Korean guy to open up more and bring back his asian life he so missed, by telling his mom to cook korean food more often while he was staying over, or watching korean shows, and then they would fall in love and yadda yadda yadda (i didn't get much farther from there). because why? MY BRAIN DIDN'T GET SLEEPY AT ALL.

so now I'm here, at 3:10am thinking about The New Six latest comeback (it's a banger), and the pretty tiktoker from New Zealand that always looks like a lilac fairy dressed by Vivienne Westwood (i had to google her name), and the collection of tiktoks i have saved to show my mister Choco Milk because i am slightly whipped for him but ANYWAYS.

so yeah, i have an english 6 exam in about 6 hours, to which i studied quite a bit (doing that fucking project helped with it, ngl), and I'm thinking about the best outfit i can wear so that i will look stylish and slay in case i mess anything up (dumb, always, badly dressed, never) and because after that i will go to downtown with my friend to buy pads for my soon to arrive bloodshed, AND be able to hide my phone in case Mr.Packett decides for us to "leave the cellphone on the table", because i am afraid i will need it.

i am also thinking about the exam that i have on wednesday (that i thought would only be next week but ah, i was mistaken) to which i really need to pass (otherwise i will need to stay another semester to finish my degree (which most likely will happen)), yet i have very low chances to get a good grade. because the only thing i know about women from the 13th century is that they were hairy, had lots of babies, and were witches.

another thing that popped in my mind during this "should be sleeping but am very much awake" session (that actually never left my head pffff) is mister Choco Milk because he lives in my head rent free. him sleeping in my bed? or me sleeping in his? his smell? him existing? engraved in my head so harshly I WILL K*LL MYSELF! being this attracted to the male species, to ONE specific example of the male species, for NO FUCKING REASON will be the death of me. i cannot stop myself from thinking corny things and i think that's everything but beautiful (however i do love feeling all lovey dovey from time to time, it's good when you're surrounded by shit of any type, from everywhere, so thank you Choco Milk for allowing me to not go as crazy as i could've if not for your lovely kisses and lovely ****).

also, I'm horny, yet too lazy to get myself off (that could help me fall asleep tho).

i just hope Packett won't fuck my life more than he already did.

[thedancingnerdmermaid]

Identity Crisis

SHOW/CHARACTERS: Criminal Minds; Hotch x swat!fm!reader; SWAT characters

WARNINGS:18+ MINORS DBI, language, angst, violence, identity theft, threats against a child, usual CM case stuff, death penalty, death, fluff, kissing

Notes: Reader is essentially Hondo's character on SWAT except female. Hondo doesn't exist in this because Derek Morgan is still with BAU in this one. I DO NOT OWN THE RIGHTS TO THESE CHARACTERS

*Part one doesn't actually have Hotch in it. It more of the set up

PART ONE

PART ONE

It was such a warm fall day. The leaves has started turning and falling. Quantico was covered in hues of oranges, reds, and yellows. Occasionally you could still see some slightly green grass. You were comfortable in your favorite jeans and a Henley t-shirt as you walked into your favorite local coffee shop. The scent of coffee beans and spices hitting your senses as soon as you pulled the door open. You inhaled deeply then sigh contently; this is your favorite time of year.

Before you can get up to order your usual coffee and pastry, a handsome man approaches you. He has short blonde hair and blue eyes.

“Hi there!” He smiles

“Hello.” You greet politely.

“I'm Aaron Hotchner. I work for the BAU of the FBI. What's your name?” he asked.

“Y/N Y/L/N. I...” before you could tell him where you worked, he cut you off.

“Would you mind having dinner with me tonight?” he asked almost nervous.

“Uh sure. Where?” You asked.

“The Log Cabin Restaurant, just outside of Quantico. I could pick you up at 6?” he beamed suddenly more confident.

“I'm off work at 5pm today, so I'll just meet you at the restaurant at 6:30pm?” you offered. Something seemed off but you tried to dismiss it as nerves. You never dated much; always too busy with work.

“Sounds great. I'll make the reservations now. He's my number.” He quickly scribbled his name and number on a napkin and handed it to you before heading out of the coffee shop.

Placing the napkin in your pocket you thought it was odd that he didn't give you his business card instead. Shrugging you got your coffee order and headed to work.

After arriving at work it seemed to be a slow day for SWAT. You were telling your partner and best friend Jim Street about this morning.

“Oh shit! GET IT BOSS!” He cackled.

“Omg Street, what are you? 12?” you scoffed mockingly

“13, actually,” He snapped back making you laugh.

Street had been your best friend and partner since before you became a sergeant and team leader. He always had your back, and you would always have his. At lunch you and your team were sitting in the kitchen eating and talking. You, however, were not paying attention and zoned out of the conversation.

“Yo! Boss? You good?” Luca (another member of your team) asked.

“Huh? OH! Yeah. Fine. Was just thinking...” You mused.

“About a certain FBI agent??” Street teased which lead to questions from the rest of your team and you retold the story.

“I don't guys. Something seems off about this guy.” You stated.

“Like what?” Deacon (another team member) asked.

“Not sure. Small stuff. Like why write his number on a napkin instead of giving me his card? Why introduce himself as FBI right off? Why was his confidence level clearly different when he said his name but not when he was setting up the date?” You asked while looking at the team while pulling out your phone.

“Are you going to call him?” Tan asked.

“Actually, I'm going to Google him.” You laughed as you typed “Aaron Hotchner BAU FBI” into the Google search bar. You were immediately flooded with images, press conference videos and details about Aaron Hotchner. The only problem is, he looks nothing like the guy that asked you on a date. The guy on your search results was way better looking and seemed confident.

“Uh guys, we need to run the guy that asked me out.” You said flatly.

“Why?” Asked Street

“Because according to Google, this is the real Aaron Hotchner of the FBI's Behavioral Analysis Unit.” turning your phone around to show them, “And that is most definitely not the same person that asked me out.”

Everyone turned to look at each other. Deciding it was best to let your commander and your chief know what was happening you headed for their offices. After explaining the situation and showing them your phone, your commander, Hicks, said, “I've met Hotchner before. That's definitely the real one. So who is this other guy?”

“Not sure, sir.”

“What moron asks a SWAT officer out after impersonating a federal agent?” Chief Cortez wondered aloud.

“Oh! That's right! I don't think he knows I'm SWAT. He cut me off to ask me out before I could tell him!” you laughed with a mischievous smile on your face. “Chief, Commander, I have an idea. It's not exactly protocol but I think I have a way to get this guy to admit to impersonation. What if I actually go through with the date?”

“Absolutely not, Sergeant, that is out of the question.” Commander Hicks boomed.

“Call me curious but I actually want to know more about this plan.” Chief Cortez offered.

“I meet him for the date. Have my guys placed throughout the restaurant undercover as back up. I spend the date getting him to talk about himself as Hotchner, he seemed quite narcistic, so he'll probably be unable to stop himself. Then we tail him until we get the information to the real Aaron Hotchner. I know if it were me being impersonated, I'd like a part of taking this guy down.” Looking between your two bosses for approval.

“I like it. Get your team up to speed.” Chief Cortez ordered.

The commander didn't love the idea but saw it's merits. You went back to your team and came up with a plan. Tonight you were going on a date and you needed your wingmen.

PART TWO

**** Feedback always appreciated. Reblogs are best. Tags by request. Part two coming soon

Tags: @eternal-silvertongued-prince @hotchnerxo @yoshigguk

[starfishthestarfish]

Late Night Devil [Part 1]

Police Officer! Seonghwa x Gangster!Hongjoong

Summary: "Never in all my life have I met such a hot officer... Makes me doubt if I should give myself up already." Seonghwa's breath hitched at each word, eyes fixated on Hongjoong's fingers while they traveled south, reaching his belt. "May I?" He asked, looking through long lashes to the older boy, a playful glint in his empty eyes and a mischievous grin plastered on his flushed face.

Word count: 3987

Chapter Warnings: NSFW/Minors DNI, drug mentions (as a business), guns, mentions of murder, blood, tiiiiny bit of bloodplay, bit of facefucking, blowjob, cum eating, rough sex, handcuffs, anal fingering, anal play, anal fucking, overstimulation if you squint, idk if I'm forgetting smth, ok bye.

1. TAKE YOUR STUFF @hiimnicki05

2. In other notes, I'm so sorry for taking so long and being inactive. I have the full story written out for this one, so no cutting out this time. (For those who follow First and Last Soulmate :,D)

3. I haven't done any grammar/spelling check so excuse any typos.

4. My Google history looks like I've just shoot someone and now I'm trying to revive them :v

5. I'm sorry if some stuff doesn't make sense, but nothing makes sense in the fiction world, so. :D

6. Couldn't think of any other title, sorry.

7. Last thing, I swear. Sets place during Deja Vu era ig? and I was inspired to write this story after listening to Gunshot by KARD, in case you wanna hear it.

"...looks like the drug business is a lot more profitable than I thought..." Seonghwa broke the silence while sitting down on the bed and taking off his black tie, watching the other boy opening the first aid box the hotel staff had provided him. Hongjoong chuckled lightly.

"Never imagined I'd hear a police officer saying that." Hongjoong scoffed, taking out some gauze pads and a bottle of saline solution. "Less from one who nearly arrested me. Twice."

At the police station, Kim Hongjoong's name was close to the top in the most wanted criminals list. His gang, leaded by him, had established their turf around most of the city, their main business being drug dealing but didn't limit itself to that. Robbing, street races and arms trafficking were some other of their crimes. Not to mention Hongjoong himself took part in various murders as gangs didn't follow the city's rules but their own rules; justice was done by their own hands. But in a city where murder is condemned with murder by law, criminals like him were prosecuted insanely. Seonghwa had previously tried catching him, his neat, perfect plans to corner him failing even if it might've been close. Hongjoong was too smart, he was the leader of his gang for some reason.

It made him majorly frustrated, and maybe that's way he didn't think it twice when he saw Hongjoong that night, even if he tried to motion him to leave back in that dark alley. Obviously, his awareness and tense moves should've alerted the police but instead he stepped right in to try and catch him, aiming his gun at him but failing once again when a bullet from the opposite gang brushed against his chest. After both managed to escape, Hongjoong could've easily shot him down in the spot. Seonghwa had some type of obsession to catch him, and he could get rid of his plans and him easily. But even though Hongjoong had killed before, he only killed when his close friends' or his own life was in danger. Seonghwa was a new officer and he was entertaining, he would let him think he had caught him only to escape so easily. It was like playing an eternal game of the cat chasing the mouse, the police in front of him thinking he was in the winning side. For him, he wasn't any type of threat. So instead of leaving him there with a wound in his chest, he took him back with him with the condition of not saying a word about where were they going AND giving him his own weapon, radio and phone, along with some other stuff that might compromise him.

Seonghwa really thought Hongjoong was stupid enough to take him to his own place if he followed him, maybe that was why he acceded. Maybe he was the only stupid one here for following a criminal who most likely wanted to get rid of him. To his relief and disappointment, Hongjoong took him to a rather expensive hotel room. The place was nearly empty except for the staff due to it being late at night, but it still was incredible how the staff didn't know about Hongjoong, about these criminals; they treated him like some other normal person. They were all oblivious to what happened in the crime world.

"I was just doing my job." Seonghwa answered, his cheeks turning a light shade of pink when the younger one kneeled in between his legs to take off the black vest and begin unbuttoning his black shirt. Hongjoong's eyes swiftly looked at the name tag while doing so. Park Seonghwa. He smiled to himself as he finished exposing the older's chest.

It surely was a very suggestive sight, and he scolded his own mind for imagining such things. Seonghwa tried focusing on something else in the meanwhile, deciding on the orange hair the younger one sported. It looked soft, and it made his hand itch to comb back the short bangs. He jumped slightly at the light sting when Hongjoong tapped the gauze pad carefully against the scratch.

"...it doesn't look as bad as I thought, blood makes it scandalous. I thought you'd need stitches." Hongjoong murmured without looking at him. Seonghwa hummed, trying to stay still as the other one finished. He didn't look at him anymore, wondering instead if the station would track down his phone and if he should tell Hongjoong about it. When he least noticed, Hongjoong finished patching the micropore tape over the bandage. He looked back down, expecting the younger one to get up. Instead, black nails trailed south, grazing the skin in their way.

"Never in all my life have I met such a hot officer..." Hongjoong muttered. "Makes me doubt if I should give myself up already." Seonghwa's breath hitched at each word, eyes fixated on the latter's fingers until they reached his belt. "May I?" Hongjoong asked, looking through long lashes to the older boy, a playful glint in his empty eyes and a mischievous grin plastered on his flushed face. Seonghwa cursed under his breath, unable to resist the offer. He nodded, looking back at the other boy's eyes.

Hongjoong's grin grew bigger as he began unbuckling the belt, fingers fidgeting to undo the buttons and unzip his pants right after. He pulled at the underwear waistband, freeing the elder’s cock to begin stroking it immediately with one hand. He gave an experimental lick right over the sensitive slit, earning a gasp from Seonghwa and making him grip on the edge of the bed from the sudden contact. He moaned, watching as the younger one pushed the tip right into his warm mouth, sucking softly as if it were some candy, resisting the urge to throw his head back to keep on looking at the scene between his legs. Pink lips stretched around his cock as Hongjoong pushed his head down, small hand not big enough to wrap around his length completely as it slowly grew bigger by the minute.

Seonghwa bucked his hips, too desperate from the younger's slow pace. He pushed deep down at once into the other's warm, wet throat, groaning at the feeling and surprised when Hongjoong didn't move away even when he gagged around him. Instead, he sucked harder, swallowing from time to time around his length.

"Shit..." Seonghwa groaned once again, placing one hand over the orange hair to grip slightly, just to hold on to. He nearly whined when Hongjoong pulled his cock out of his mouth, licking his lips and clearing his throat.

"You can set the pace; I like it rough." He told him, referring to the controlled grip Seonghwa kept on his hair.

Fuck, this boy was temptation itself. How did he even end up here after aiming his gun so many times at him? The same criminal he had desperately tried catching the past month was kneeling right in between his legs, blowing him. Destiny's ways were crazy.

Seonghwa didn't waste more time as he gripped harder on the orange hair, pushing his own cock back down the younger's throat. He bucked his hips into the tight heat, groaning at the way his throat continuously tightened around hin each time he gagged.

It didn't take long for that knot to begin appearing, tightening with each time Hongjoong's nose touched the skin below his belly. The younger one just closed his eyes, enjoying the stretch in his throat provided by Seonghwa's cock. Seonghwa was sure that if his mouth wasn't stuffed with cock, he'd be smiling.

"H-Hongjoong..." Seonghwa moaned as a warning, close to his release. He threw his head back, gripping impossibly harder onto the orange hair but movements becoming sloppy. Hongjoong began working his head down instead, sucking once again and twirling his tongue around. With a last gasp and a few thrusts of his hips, Seonghwa released his cum into Hongjoong's throat.

Hongjoong did his best in swallowing the bitter but tasty substance, pulling Seonghwa's still half hard cock out of his mouth to lick the remainings that spilled out of his mouth and onto his lips. Seonghwa let go of his hair while panting, and Hongjoong took the opportunity to stand up and hold a tight grip on his jaw before kissing him.

Seonghwa couldn't help but gasp in surprise at the unexpected action, the younger one's tongue sliding immediately into his mouth within seconds of beginning the kiss. It was sloppy, desperate and messy, addicting at the least which made Seonghwa pull him closer. He could taste the bitter remainings of his seed in Hongjoong's mouth, blushing at the flavor.

Hongjoong's grip softened until he was cupping Seonghwa's face in his hand, pulling him impossibly closer while straddling his lap.

At least half of Seonghwa's senses where gone by now. He still was aware that one of the most wanted criminals was sitting in his lap, devouring his mouth. He didn't know where to set his hands on other than the one on his nape, didn't know if he was allowed to touch. Was it too late to push him off? More importantly, did he want to push him?

He moaned when Hongjoong bit his lower lip, hard. Hard enough to make it hurt, to want to pull away but he still moaned. Within a few seconds, he tasted the metallic flavor of blood. He had actually drawn blood, and fuck, did that turn him on even more. It was as if the last string broke, because his hand dropped from his nape to slip them both down the outline of Hongjoong's curves, not bothering anymore about neither of their statuses. He was just going to enjoy what was happening right now. It's not as if it was going to repeat itself anyways, right?

Hongjoong was the one who pulled pulled away from the kiss first, panting. "...Getting bolder, officer...?" His hands roamed down Seonghwa's exposed chest, just before pushing him without care to lay him down. He stared for a few seconds at the older's new look; lips swollen and red, cheeks flushed down and dark eyes. He smiled and bended over him, attaching his lips onto Seonghwa's neck, nibbling softly at the tanned skin. Seonghwa arched his neck to a side, sighing from time to time and hands sliding lower, down his thighs. He stopped when he felt the leg harness around his left thigh, the one holding his holster. He didn't plan on taking the gun, but he would feel more relieved if the gun was out of the way. When he tried reaching out for the gun's handle to pull it out, he felt Hongjoong's grip around his wrist.

"No, nobody touches my gun. Especially not you." Hongjoong murmured, pressing a kiss against his jawline. He slipped the gun out of its holster and threw it away to the floor. He immediately went back to leaving small, red bites on the other's skin until he was turned over on his back and pinned down. He yelped at the action, eyes widening before relaxing under the officer's soothing touch. He couldn't take his gun anymore anyways, it was way too far from the bed. So instead, he closed his eyes, hands combing back Seonghwa's black hair before gripping on it while Seonghwa went back to kissing him.

The kiss was much shorter this time, Seomghwa pulling away within a few seconds. Hongjoong felt the officer's hands pull at his wrist to untangle his fingers from the black mop of hair, while leaving a trail of wet kisses from his jaw down his throat. He sucked particularly right over the beauty mark on his neck, pushing the younger's hands above his head.

Hongjoong gasped when he heard a click, looking above to see handcuffs around his wrists, locking him to the headboard. Where did he have those? He swore he took them away from him earlier. Seonghwa didn't seem to bother, his hands slipping below Hongjoong's navy blue shirt and travelling around the smooth skin.

"...S-Seonghwa..." Hongjoong looked back at the older boy, a tingle of panic in his voice. Seonghwa lifted up his shirt, bunching it right under his armpits and latching his mouth to one of the hardening nipples, sucking softly. Hongjoong let out a whiny moan, arching his back against the other's mouth and closing his eyes, not really sure about how to catch his attention. Seonghwa sucked harder, long tongue twirling around the sensitive bud. One hand went to roll his other nipple between his index finger and thumb, tugging it from time to time. Hongjoong's moans progressively grew louder, and he tried pulling on the handcuffs to let go and cover himself at the increasing sensitiveness on his chest. He wasn't sure it he felt aroused or scared at the cuffs. He wouldn't mind it being a bed play but he was a wanted criminal and he was successfully handcuffed by a police who he didn't know if he'd arrest him after pleasing himself. "Seonghwa!" He managed to shout in between his moans, trashing a bit from side to side and attempting to close his arms in front of him. Seonghwa halted his actions, looking back at him and humming back in response, lips slick and dark brown eyes blown. Panting, Hongjoong looked up at the cuffs and pulled a bit on them, making the chain jingle. He looked back at Seonghwa, hoping he would get the message and ready to speak if he didn't. Seonghwa in response kissed his chest before looking back at him.

"Trust me..." He mumbled, hands rubbing at his waist to soothe him.

"Trust you?!" That was the only thing Hongjoong could blurt out. That was something he couldn't ask for, Seonghwa was the specific officer who chased him around!

Seonghwa hummed once again, nodding while unbuckling the gangster's belt. "Just like I trusted you to not kill me when I followed you. I won't arrest you."

He had a point; but to be honest, if Hongjoong had been Seonghwa, he wouldn't have followed himself to a hotel in the middle of the night.

"We can go back to being enemies tomorrow." Seonghwa finally sighed upon seeing Hongjoong's hesitating stare. The criminal's eyes looked around for a moment before he let his head fall back on the pillow, closing his eyes. Seonghwa smiled, leaving a peck on Hongjoong's milky white tummy. He finished unbuckling the belt, pulling his pants down along with his underwear while Hongjoong lifted up his hips to ease the action. His cock hit his abdomen, red and hard from previous stimulation.

Now having his whole lower body naked, Seonghwa pushed Hongjoong's thighs up against his chest to gain a better access to his small hole. He came a bit closer, his hole clenching around nothing before spitting over it and watching his saliva slowly being swallowed inside. Hongjoong whimpered at the feeling, and Seonghwa hushed him while pushing in a finger.

"I'll take care of you..." Seonghwa said right before kissing one of his inner thighs. Hongjoong moaned at the stretch, biting his lower lip harshly when Seonghwa slowly pushed in a second finger. He scissored them, opening him up, fingers rubbing against his walls and tugging against his rim while he only gasped and whined helplessly. He arched his back off the bed and was close to screaming when Seonghwa curled his fingers inside of him, finger pads pressing against that sensitive nerve. He writhed on the bed, moaning and unsure if he wanted to get away from the torturing pleasure or try to gain more friction on that area as Seonghwa pushed a third finger inside. He kept on kissing his inner thighs, occasionally leaving some red love bites. The tenderness of his kisses, the rough pace of his fingering; He felt the knot starting to tighten below his stomach and whined, not wanting to cum just yet.

"...N-need... Need you inside..." Hongjoong said in between pants and moans. His body finally relaxed when Seonghwa pulled his fingers out, frustrated too as he climbed down the high he was having.

"Whatever you wish for, pretty boy..." Seonghwa cooed, lining up at his now hard cock against his entrance after pulling his pants further down. Hongjoong blushed hard when he heard the pet name, opening his mouth ready to protest but only a scream came out, back arching off the bed one again and handcuffs jingling from the force he pulled at them. Seonghwa had bottomed out in one go, moaning at the tight feeling. He cursed under his breath, hands gripping on Hongjoong's marked thighs and pushing them against his chest even harder, practically folding him in a half. He kept still for a few seconds, waiting for the younger's reaction. Hongjoong tried steadying his breath as much as he could, whining softly at the sudden stretch despite no movement being done.

Hongjoong finally rolled his hips, signaling the officer to proceed. With the first drag out and harsh thrust back in, Hongjoong gasped as he felt the air being knocked out of his lungs and Seonghwa groaned at how hard was Hongjoong clenching around him. He wasn't even sure he would be able to resist for long, the pleasure being too strong to handle.

After both were able to calm down a bit, he began thrusting at a steady rythm, watching how the criminal under him was reduced to a whining mess, small hands tugging continually at the handcuffs.

Seonghwa fastened the pace, beginning with a ruthless thrusting. His grip tightened around his thighs, his fucking becoming less gentle and more brutal each passing second. The bed shook along with the movement, dragging Hongjoong just a bit upwards with each forward thrust. Moans spilled freely out of Hongjoong's mouth as Seonghwa rubbed his prostate over and over again without care, fastly climbing his high once again. He turned his head from side to side, eyes tightly closed as he felt them water and unable to bear the amount of pleasure as he felt himself clinging at the top of his high.

"W-want to c-come..." Hongjoong whined, and Seonghwa couldn't help but kiss him once again. Sloppy, open-mouthed and messy, moans escaping from time to time in between the tongues intertwining. Seonghwa reached down to hold Hongjoong's cock, hand beginning to stroke it immediately. Hongjoong arched his neck, breaking the kiss as he gasped and moaned out Seonghwa's name, cumming over his own stomach.

It actually surprised Seonghwa when he heard him moan out his name, but it also was what made him go over the edge. He moaned with a few last thrusts, spilling his cum inside him.

They both stayed there for a few minutes, trying to catch their breaths. Seonghwa laid his head over the other's chest, listening to the fast heartbeat slowly calm down.

Hongjoong jingled the handcuffs after a while, eyes opening once again. Seonghwa looked up, understanding the message and took the key from one of his pockets, freeing him.

"...Finally..." Hongjoong said, checking the slight red marks on his wrists from tugging. "I see you're a bit kinky..."

Seonghwa let out a chuckle, holding his wrists softly before kissing both of them. The gangster felt heat creeping over his face again and pulled away his hands, choosing to stare at the ceiling to avoid looking into the officer's gaze.

"...I need to go." Hongjoong murmured, eyes still fixated on the ceiling before closing.

"Don't wanna rest for a while?" Seonghwa asked him, staring back at Hongjoong. He immediately regretted asking that, as if fucking him hadn't been dumb enough. He didn't think too much of it as he became lost in admiring Hongjoong's feautures. Long lashes brushing his cheeks, soft blush, sharp nose and uptilted lips. He wanted to kiss him again but considering Hongjoong pulled his hands away, he wasn't sure he'd let him. After a few seconds, Hongjoong shook his head.

"Rest here with you?" He sighed, opening his eyes. He rolled over to be on top, sealing his lips at the movement inside of him. He felt Seonghwa twitch inside of him too, and he sat upright. "I'm not sleeping here with you. I'm either fucking or leaving, so take your pick."

Seonghwa parked around the same alley he had seen Hongjoong last night. He had low hopes of finding the orange haired boy again, but chances weren't nule. He wasn't supposed to either, but he still wished to see him again.

At the end, after two or three rounds, Hongjoong did leave with a slight limp. Seonghwa offered to leave so he could stay and rest, but Hongjoong insisted that his location was known by him and he wouldn't be able to sleep. And Seonghwa couldn't obviously ask him to take him wherever he needed, Hongjoong was paranoid enough about it. Seonghwa did stay in the hotel two or three hours more after he left, processing everything which had happened. He found out he didn't hate Hongjoong as much as he thought. The intriguing criminal did catch his attention since the first time, but obviously; who's attention couldn't he not attract? Hongjoong was intelligent, sarcastic, liked playing around with the authority for fun and overall, he was just so pretty.

Maybe that's why he found himself wanting to see him once again, he was strangely comfortable and amused by him. So now he was slowly pacing around the area, eyes traveling from one building to another. It didn't take too long to find him.

He suddenly felt a gun pointing against his nape, and he froze, lifting his hands in the air.

"How did you know I was here?" He heard the same voice which had moaned for him the previous night right behind him. He turned around slowly, and he couldn't help but smile when he in fact saw Hongjoong aiming his gun at him.

"I didn't know... I just supposed, but I wasn't sure. I don't wanna arrest you, I swear." Seonghwa tried explaining at him, but Hongjoong only raised an eyebrow.

"The police... doesn't wanna arrest me? Well that's new." He chuckled, tilting his head. "I don't trust you a single bit."

"You trusted me yesterday when I handcuffed you to a hotel bed." Seonghwa smiled before yelping when the muzzle hit his head. "Hongjoong-"

"Don't say my name, and stop bothering me!" Hongjoong whined, pushing the muzzle against the older's forehead and forcing him back to his car. "You're just some stupid officer I managed to fuck, and just cause I was nice or pliant for once doesn't mean I'm going to fucking befriend you." Hongjoong spat out just as Seonghwa's back hit his car's door. "You said it, back to enemies today. Now get your ass back into your car and-"

Hongjoong was interrupted when Seonghwa pushed the gun out of his way and pulled him into a kiss, plump lips pressing against his own. It was just yesterday that they had kissed but Hongjoong felt he was feeling them for the first time again, heavenly taste and addicting tongue. He hesitatingly wrapped his arms around the other's neck, one hand still holding his gun. He didn't notice when they shifted positions, now him being the one against the car's door. When Seonghwa pulled away, a string of saliva still connected their tongues.

"...get in the car..." Seonghwa mumbled before kissing his check, hands rubbing at Hongjoong's waist over his shirt. Hongjoong didn't comply, eyes still closed and breathing panting slightly, and that's when he noticed he'd have to explain himself better. "Let's go to a hotel, yeah...?"

And Hongjoong finally nodded, unable to resist the tempting idea of having the beautiful man over him once again. "...but phone... gun... radio", Hongjoong opened his eyes, licking the remaining of Seonghwa's chapstick off his own lips. "Give them to me."

Masterlist

[angy-mouse]

Rating Your Shameful Simps

DISCLAIMER: this is of course all /lh and my attempts to be funny. I have too many skeletons in my search history to really judge but that won't stop me from initiating some clown on clown violence with yall.

Let's get into it

Asra from the Arcana game

...really? That's the most shameful character you'd read smut for? A man with a pet snake? Haven't played the game yet but he's pretty cute I'm a big fan of the white hair on poc character design I think it's cool 8/10

ok not necessarily shameful but matt murdock 😳😳

Again, really? ik damn well y'all are freakier than that bc you're here aintcha. 10/10 tho I approve

peepaw afton

All that comes up in google images is Springtrap. You don't wanna admit you're a robot fucker, huh? 0/10

william afton😞

All that comes up in google images is that 8-bit grape fucker and a scrawny brunet in a Springtrap onesie... is this young peepaw? He's not hideous, I'd say a 4/10, 7/10 if I were straight

freddy fazbear (all of them) 🏃‍♂️

Fair enough, not my type but I can't judge much. I tried to get into Foxy in middle school and now I'm super into Monty and Sun/Moon so yk. 7/10 if youre into dilfy types

Todd from Eddsworld

Google says you mean Tord, who I'm told is a robot-building communist. I can't say shit bc I read some Tom fics back when i was super into Eyeless Jack, never learned anything about Eddsworld tho. 4/10 bc i dont really like the art style, probably 6/10 if he was real

Jeff the killer

You mean the middle schooler with no eyelids? Get some help and focus on your geometry homework, creepypasta simping is for middle schoolers questioning either their gender or sexuality and haven't gotten a diagnosis for their mental issues yet and I stand by that bc I'm a shining example, 1/10

epistemological anarchism itself

I googled it and still don't know, fair enough, 7/10

the dad from httyd or that one bald butler from cruella

Stoik is fair, if you're into dilfs thats very understandable and vikings are hot, 7/10, I googled 'cruella bald butler' and mans looks like a clean shaven babish who moonlights as Agent 47 4/10

Ron Weasley

Everyone knows the twins are the hottest Weasleys 2/10

Venom

ah, the vanilla's shame. 10/10 character, I'll be here when you

optimus prime and i’m not proud of it

you shouldn't be, everyone knows if you're gonna fuck a transformer you go for Soundwave or Knockout and if you fuck an autobot you go for Bumblebee. Shameful. 2/10

Uhhh, probably Soundwave from transforms (specifically from transformers prime)

correct. 10/10 (side note i loved transformers prime it was one of the first shows i watched when i got out of my 'im only allowed to like girly things' phase and theres so many hot robots but also i lowkey had a crush on both jack and miko if im remembering names right)

I've read smut for the ninja turtles, SPECIFICALLY the 2007 movie ones, and the 2014/2016 movie ones

Incredibly valid, I was like 13-15 when the 2012 cartoon came out and in love with Raphael, then the 2014 movie came out and they were 9ft+ and so strong and they all had their little personalized accessories like mikey had a seashell necklace and they were all in like kilts/loincloths and I decided I'd be okay with any or all of them we're gonna assume (read: pray) that theyre 18-19 100/10

Bahorel, from Les Miserables (not the musical. the book. he's not mentioned in the musical. i read 2000 pages of french puns and descriptions of the paris sewer system just to read smut about an arguably minor character. ask me about the battle of waterloo i dare you. please kill me. )

Dear God. 2/10 for the character, 10/10 for the dedication.

ya ever heard of A Monster In Paris? Singing dancing giant flea named Francoeur. yeeeeea

I cannot judge, I never watched the movie but I watched that clip where she's singing while he plays his little instrument 100 times when i was like 15-16. I'm gonna judge anyway 8/10 there are hotter monsters but he is a musician so

Finally, the big whammy

munkustrap from cats (be gentle on me)

Wow. Wow. Everyone take a second, open a new tap, google it. First of all: absolutely not. There is not enough personality in the world to get my to fuck this creature. Secondly: you can't even come back with 'oh i meant this character typo aha' because there is nothing you can replace 'munkustrap' with to make this okay, because it'll still be from cats. Shame on you, shame on your cow, shame on your whole family. -9000/10

[edge0fmydesiree]

WIP TAG GAME

Rules:

post the names of all the files in your wip folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous.

Send me an ask with the title than intrigues you and I'll post a little snippet or tell you something about it.

Tag as many people as you have wip.

Okay, so I’m finally getting around to responding to Tumblr asks and tags.

Thank you, @yikeshereiam & @ash-mcj for the tag. ❤️

I haven’t published a fic in a while, but I’ve been working on a few new fics behind the scenes.

I have a lot of WIPS.

These are the ones I’ve been working on recently, and actually have words written down in the google docs.

1. It Was Never About What I Wanted. THIAM.

More of a novella. 3 Chapters. I’m looking at around 70-100k words. It will NOT be published until it’s finished. I’ve learned my lesson from the other two unfinished works I’ve published. WHICH I'M STILL WORKING ON. I’m just super slow, i.e. lazy, who gets distracted by other writers’ fics and chooses to read them, and all their other works, instead of writing. Don’t judge me.

It’s set after the war. The pack is still on the hunt for Monroe. Theo is helping the pack—forced to help? He thinks so anyway—look for Monroe.

Other Packs are introduced, original characters, as well as other hunters.

2. Meeting The Parents. THIAM.

A short fic, a Tumblr request actually. Human, HighSchool AU.

Bad-boy/Nerd type. Basically what the title says. Liam forces Theo to have dinner with his parents, to introduce him as his boyfriend.

Update: I couldn't help myself and added a little angst. It was meant to be humour and fluff, but, eh, what are you gonna do.

3. You Were Unexpected, But The Best Thing To Happen To Me. THEREK.

Canon divergent. Multi-chapter fic. 10-15k words.

Honestly, I don’t know where this fic is going. I went through a Theo/Derek faze and got inspired by their dynamic.

Set straight after the war at the hospital. Theo tries to sneak away and meets Derek.

Theo attempts to avoid the pack. Deals with a lot of guilt and a few pack members' hostility. Spends time with Derek, who can kind of relate, and helps Theo assimilate after the war. Now that he’s actually free and not under anybody's control. Slow burn, kind of. Eh, like I said, I’m winging it at this point.

4. Where You Bean All My Life? THIAM. This fic is testing me, ngl.

Human, Café AU. Humorous.

Liam works at a cafe, meets tall, dark and handsome, and instantly decides that the stranger is his future husband. Cue, lots of pining, awkward and embarrassing floundering, and ultimately a happy ending.

5. Not My Alpha. THIAM.

Canon. Set after the war. Angst, comfort, ultimately happy ending. 10-15k words.

Theo (I, the writer, me!) holds some bitterness and resentment towards the pack--Scott, for what they did to him. After some remarks from certain pack members, Theo has had enough. But so does a certain blue-eyed beta who has some choice words for the pack.

6. Bringing Me Back. THIAM.

Multi Chapter fic. Shifted Theo. Courting Fic. A Feral Theo and a stubborn determined Liam.

For almost a year, Theo has been Feral and been stuck in his shifted form, living in the preserve. While the pack has slowly given up, Liam refuses too. He's going to bring Theo back, and if that means camping out in the preserve and tempting Theo out with treats then so be it.

7. Wake Up, Little Wolf. THIAM.

One-shot. 10-20k. Theo's POV.

After a fight with hunters, Liam is injured and in hospital. Liam's werewolf abilities are hindered, leaving him essentially human. This fic is basically about how Theo handles seeing Liam in hospital, vulnerable, and how that envokes all these feelings in Theo that he's tried to push down.

9. Sometimes I Wonder If Love Is Worth Fighting For. Then I Look At You, And I’m Ready For War. THIAM.

The pack uses Theo to fight for them, but then ignores him and his suffering. Heavy guilt-ridden Theo, and guilty Nolan. Pining Liam.

10. Holding Onto The Memories Of Us. THIAM.

Multi Chapter fic. Original Characters.

Theo and Liam hide their relationship from the pack, but then it becomes too hard for Theo. He ends things with Liam and leaves Beacon Hills. Theo starts over and finds himself. But, people from his past keep showing up. Just not the person he wants.

Tagging anyone who wants ago. I highly encourage it. And make sure to tag me, because I'm NOSY and WANT to know.

[littlemisspascal]

Ezra’s Journal Entries #1-3

Fandom: Prospect / Pedro Pascal

Pairing: Ezra x Female!Reader

Word Count: 1,269

Summary: You and I were made from the same star, you said with such conviction it stole the breath from my lungs, bound to each other for eternity by the Currents of the universe. 

Warnings: angsty fluff, Ezra’s dealing with the aftermath of the Green, language, 1st person POV (Ezra), dialogue in italics because that’s just how I chose to do it, no beta so all mistakes are mine

Author Note: I know I said Death and Angel would come out next, but I got such a inspiration high and the words came out so quickly I just told myself screw it and decided to share what I have. If anyone thinks this is a series worth pursuing, let me know. If you don’t, well, just be gentle please 💖

Cross-posted on AO3

Entries #4-6

Look for additional notes at the bottom.

My name is Ezra. 

I have my mama to thank for that. Time has erased her face from my memory, but her voice is ingrained into the tissue of my brain the same way these words are inked on this parchment. She was a bonafide believer that the meaning of a child’s name influenced the course of their destiny. When I was no taller than the height of her waist I learned my own name’s denotation: help.

It’s just a tick too ironic, isn’t it? To be destined to help others when I can’t help my own self. I gave the Green far too little credit. It didn’t just pilfer my arm to satisfy its ravenousness, it greedily stole my sense of purpose too. 

Every night I thank the deities you didn’t accompany me there. If the Green had taken you...

I know how worried you are about me, little love of mine. When I look at you, I find you already looking back, a sweet smile gracing your lips even as concern burns in your eyes as an eternal flame. From day one you’ve always been looking at me, seeing every disgraced flaw and scar—even the invisible ones carved into the darkest edges of my soul. Kevva knows I’ve never been capable of concealing anything from you, but fuck if I don’t wish I could sometimes.

You’re asleep now as I write this, tucked against my side in the vacant space my arm once occupied, drooling on my shirt. I love you so much it hurts. A black hole in my chest perpetually aching to be filled by your presence. And as we venture once more into the starry sea, our ship gliding past the imaginary wings of Noctua, I find myself recalling a theory you once told me many cycles ago about humans being made in the womb with stardust infused in their bones, linking them to the universe. You and I were made from the same star, you said with such conviction it stole the breath from my lungs, bound to each other for eternity by the Currents of the universe. 

And it’s undoubtedly selfish, but all I could think of in that tender moment beyond kissing you was how I didn’t want an eternity spent together with our cosmic bodies intertwined. 

I want longer.

Soon after we awoke and each consumed a slice of bush bread bought during our recent docking at Kamrea, you fiddled with the channels on the ship’s radio, hoping to hear news from your homeworld but cursing when you only heard static. Then, without an ounce of forewarning, music burst out with an almighty scream through the speakers at full volume, flooding the whole compartment with a woman’s warbling. It was the same crusted Vayok song that merc Inumon blared in my ears during my last night on the Green, every note an individual needle piercing my skull, impossible to ignore.

Reality deserted me, leaving me to sink to the depths of the abyss within my mind where all I could see was Cee’s pale, disturbed expression as she looked to me for guidance. I remembered how my tongue felt clumsy in my mouth as I tried my damnedest to negotiate our transport, thinking if I could just piece together the right sequence of words, if I could just get their lingering eyes off of her, then maybe, maybe we’d have a chance at salvation. 

The memories coalesced, overlapping and blurring and mixing out of order. Each one was drenched in spilt blood.

Then your pinky wrapped around mine. The touch was soft yet firm, the action childlike in its innocence. It was such a jarring contradiction to my mind’s violent narrative, my consciousness was hurtled back into the living quarters of our ship as a result. You didn’t say anything when you saw I returned to you. Instead, you swallowed down the questions lodged in your throat and led me by our entwined fingers back to our bed.

There’s a plant back home called a dandelion, you told me with my head resting in your lap, a far better comfort than any pillow could provide me. It’s the only plant in the galaxy you can see the sun, the moon and the stars when you look at it. That’s not why it’s my favorite though.

I asked how it had won your heart’s favor if not due to its resemblance to the celestial bodies, then immediately found myself mesmerized by the smile that lit up your face as you peered down at me. My chest cavity tightened as I was filled with the profound longing to be able to suspend time, if only so I could stretch this moment to match the length of our separation, if only so I could erase the old and replace it with the beautiful new.

Dandelions grant wishes, babe. Anything you wish for with your whole heart, it will be yours to have.

I told you I wouldn’t wish for anything—nothing else in the galaxy could compare to the prettiest, wisest soul I’d ever encountered in all my years traversing it. You saw right through that lie with the same confident ease you see through all my masks and diversions, but—for the second time in the span of an hour—you held your tongue.

This journal’s as good a place as any to admit the honest truth. So here it is: I wish with the entirety of my bloody, beating heart I could be the man you deserve, little love of mine. 

When you read, whether it be a book or the flight manual, you have the precious habit of mouthing the words. I don’t think you have the faintest notion you’re even doing it, which makes it all the more endearing to watch.

My brother had a similar habit, always nose deep in the yellowing pages of classic literature, except he had a proclivity to spoil the plot when he talked in his sleep. I remember there was one particular novel he returned to often, sometimes reading from beginning to end, other times seeking out specific segments he’d underlined in bold, black pen. It was a rather dreary tale about war and rivalry and the process of determining one’s own identity. I became so exasperated with my brother’s obsession I considered shredding it on more than one occasion, only to immediately hate myself for entertaining the thought.

It was only after his death—twelve whole cycles, in fact—that I summoned up the will to open the front cover. Seeing his name scribbled in the corner, cursive and neat and so utterly him, nearly had me tearing the book in half, overcome with a vicious rage I had never known prior nor have I encountered since. But by the almighty grace of Kevva I reigned it in, chaining it to the agony and fear imprisoned within the confines of my rib cage, and turned the page.

There was one segment underlined not once, but three times, nearly bleeding ink onto the page behind it. When I close my eyes, the words are tattooed on the backs of my eyelids, as haunting as they are comforting.

So the more things remained the same, the more they changed after all. Nothing endures. Not love, not a tree, not even a death by violence.

The author lived and died centuries before my brother’s inception, that is an inarguable fact. 

But I know those words were written for him all the same. 

Notes: 

There is an actual theory humans are made of stardust ✨

The Sater within Prospect mention the Currents as being responsible for bringing Ezra and Cee to them, so I imagine them as similar to the Fates/Moirai in Greek mythology.

Noctua is a real life, extinct constellation that is Latin for owl. I thought within this Prospect universe it could exist as a type of landmark or coordinate. Plus I love owls 🦉

Crusted is a term from Prospect Ezra uses. Equivalent of damn. I think there’s something funny about how they use creamy as a positive adjective and crusted as negative.

Vayok is the alien language Inumon speaks within the movie, so I decided to write the song she blares as being sung in the same language

Bush bread is referenced in a deleted scene by Ezra, but a google search revealed to me it’s also a real life type of bread too

In the same deleted scene Ezra references that he has a brother. I haven’t decided his name yet/if he will have one

The book and quote Ezra refers to in #3 is John Knowles’ A Separate Peace. One of the few required reading books I liked back in high school.

The quote about dandelions being the sun, moon and stars is based on the legend of how dandelions came into existence. I always thought it was beautiful.

Series Taglist: @insomniamamma

Permanent Taglist: @promiscuoussatan, @melobee, @randomness501, @absurdthirst, @captain-jebi, @artsymaddie, @happiestsparkleofall, @disgruntledspacedad, @gallowsjoker, @aerynwrites, @vintagesaph, @sylphene, @chibi-yuki, @freeshavocadoooo, @stilllivindue2spite, @pointy-sharp, @leilei-draws, @over300books, @theocatkov, @oh-no-a-whovian, @you-and-i-deserve-the-world, @lin-djarin, @rogertaylorsfalsettogivesmehives, @coaaster, @waywardmando, @thisshipwillsail316, @grogusmum, @asta-lily, @mylifeofcalculatedchaos @tacticalsparkles​

[esmealux]

Hi there! For the two-part drabble, may I request Deckerstar in situation 13 (someone does something stupid) with sentence 6 ("Do I love you? Yes. Do I like you? That's still up for debate.") Thank you, and I've really really been enjoying your the updates on your Planning a Hell of a Wedding fic!

Hey! It took me two months (including more than one month of writing) but I've now finally finished your prompt. Another anon had requested 25 (being somewhere you're not supposed to) + 6 and dear @my-crazy-awesome-sox had requested 26 (a very cheesy date) + 6, so I've merged all your prompts into one 7K+ long 'drabble'. Hope you don't mind!

And I'm glad you like the updates on PHW! I'll try to write some more now that I've finished this.

Hope you like this!

Also, an immense special thanks to @my-crazy-awesome-sox for helping me with this fic. She truly has been a godsend, and a lot of the wording (especially in the later parts) is kindly and almost directly borrowed from her mind. Thank you again, babe!

Also thanks to @lightbringer-666 for assisting me with some French. If all the French isn't perfect, it's because I also googled my way to a lot of it. Apologies in advance (and please do let me know if there's anything I should change!)

Someone does something stupid + being somehwere you're not supposed to + a very cheesy date + 'Do I love you? Yes. Do I like you? That's still up for debate.'

Rated M. Post 5B - contains spoilers!

Read on AO3 (includes list with English translations)

It’s ridiculous, really. The butterflies fluttering in her stomach like she’s a schoolgirl waiting for her prom date. It’s not even their first date. It’s not even their second. The thing is, between becoming God and Consultant, revising a few laws of the cosmos, fixing some bugs in humanity, bringing Dan to Heaven, and going to therapy, she and Lucifer haven’t had much time for, well, each other. At least not in ways that didn’t involve discussions about the redesign of the afterworld and how to sate world hunger. So yes, she is a little giddy with excitement at the thought of having a whole evening to themselves—no celestial craziness. Just the two of them and a bottle of the restaurant’s finest.

If Lucifer would just show up.

She checks her phone. 06:14. Unlike last time she anxiously waited for him in a restaurant, there’s a text.

Running a bit late. Please forgive me. Can’t wait to see you ❤

And one more.

Sorry. Can’t wait to see you naked*

Chloe shakes her head, a stupid smile spreading across her face. She resists typing back a flirty reply—he’ll be with her in a minute, and she is nota schoolgirl—and puts her phone back in her clutch. Hands trembling a little, she smooths out invisible creases in the dress he’s bought her. It’s short and tight, of course, but perfectly so. Reaching mid-thigh, with a small slit revealing a bit more of her left thigh. Black, unsurprisingly; he still hasn’t gotten over how delectable she looked in the LBD she wore on their last ‘date’. And this one makes her legs look even longer, which is undoubtedly the primary reason Lucifer picked it. Still, it isn’t skimpy. He could have opted for a deep neckline and cold shoulders—she almost expected him to when he said he’d bought her a dress—but he didn’t. Instead, the short and skin-tight skirt is perfectly balanced with a high neck and long bell sleeves that are cut open just above her joints, making the soft fabric flow around her bare underarms. She likes it—would probably have bought it herself if it weren’t crazy expensive. Likes how it makes her feel both sexy and classy and most of all comfortable, likes that he knows her so well.

She fidgets with her earring and traces the rim of her empty wine glass with her fingertip, watching people as much as she can from their semi-private corner. She spots an Oscar-winning film director, a retired NFL player, that pop star Lucifer pretends to hate, and just how expensive isthis place?

She’s immediately distracted by the shift in the air and the sound of Italian loafers approaching her.

‘My me, Detective!’

His brown eyes roam her figure as she stands to kiss him. Their lips meet in a soft peck that could easily have turned into more if Lucifer hadn’t pulled away to look her up and down.

‘You look like a goddess.’

Chloe snorts and chuckles, not yet used to the title he insists is hers if she’ll have it. She puts a hand on his chest, gazing up at him with a smile.

‘You don’t look too bad yourself.’

He hums and leans in for another kiss, but something comes between them this time. They both look down—at a dozen red roses.

‘Those for me?’ she asks, warmth spreading in her chest.

Lucifer hands her the bouquet with a nod and that soft smile she loves more than anything. He pulls out her chair, a gentle hand on her shoulder as she sits down, and sits down himself.

There’s a card nestled between the velvet petals: ‘For the Detective & Consultant’, her old and new moniker scribbled side by side in his annoyingly elegant handwriting. The latter nickname, however, is written in smaller, cramped letters—an afterthought. She smiles.

She turns the card, expecting to find a dirty, eye-roll-deserving comment on the back. But there’s no lewd joke or naughty promise.

It simply says, ‘I love you.’

Her heart swells, filling her chest till it aches. It’s all so new still. Not the love between them, but how it’s uninhibited now. It’s not like they don’t have their obstacles—just yesterday they had a fight—but there’s no doubt anymore, no voices telling them some dreams simply cannot be. They might have a whole universe to deal with, but for the first time ever, things between them are easy. No words are left unsaid. No feelings are squashed. No time is wasted. Every day is spent wrapped in each other’s love. Finally.

‘I love you too,’ she tells him, and he lights up, amazed. Confident. Their hands find each other on the table, fingers intertwining.

A waiter comes by with two menu cards and a vase for the flowers. Chloe reads through the menu carefully, pretending to know what kind of food hides behind the fancy French names. Lucifer sees right through her, sighs, and orders some hors d’œuvres, two of something she couldn’t pronounce if she tried, and a bottle of red.

‘So, were you stuck in traffic, or…?’ Chloe asks him with a glint in her eye as the waiter pours her a generous glass of wine. The celestial being with the supernatural metabolism can drive home.

The being in question looks confused for a moment before he answers, ‘Ah, no. I’m sorry I kept you waiting.’ For a brief second, he looks at her as if he’s apologising for more than tonight, but she strokes his knuckles and smiles at him, you’re here now, and he moves on to explain himself. ‘I just couldn’t find this bloody suit. Only when I’d ransacked the house did I realise it was still at the penthouse, so I had to make a detour.’

He is a little excused; so many things are impossible to find right now, with more or less unpacked boxes spread out between her apartment, Lux, and their new home. In hindsight, moving in together while taking over the almighty family business probably wasn’t the best idea, but they’ll get settled soon enough. Besides, right now, what’s important is that Lucifer was late because of a wardrobe crisis, and she will not let that slide.

‘You couldn’t just wear one of your three hundred other suits?’

A flicker of hurt and sheepishness flashes across Lucifer’s face.

‘Well, this one is special.’

Chloe takes in his suit: the navy jacket, the matching waistcoat, the royal blue shirt.

‘Oh.’

He smirks at her as heat creeps up her cheeks (so much for not being a schoolgirl).

‘You remember?’

She does. Of course, she does. She remembers vividly—how shocked he’d been at first, how new and soft his lips had felt against hers. How they’d held onto each other until the sun was setting and she really did have to go home and feed Maze and Trixie.

She also remembers how she, later, behind closed lids, had ripped off the shirt and waistcoat in desperate need. How it’d earned her a husky chuckle and a breathy ‘D’tective!’, and the sinful Heaven that was his hot and open mouth.

‘You okay, darling?’ Lucifer looks at her, his expression somewhere between concerned and amused. His thumb brushes the back of her hand.

Chloe takes a sip of wine and clears her throat. Adjusts her necklace.

‘Yeah, just, you know. Reminiscing.’

He studies her flushed face for a second before his curious smile spreads into a full-blown Cheshire grin.

‘You had a wet dream about me, didn’t you?! After our first kiss?’

Chloe glares at him. ‘Say it a little louder for the people in the back, will ya?’ He opens his mouth, and she immediately feels the need to clarify, ‘Do not say it a little louder for the people in the back.’

His smile doesn’t falter. ‘I’m just ecstatic to know our first kiss left you all hot and bothered. I mean, not that I’m surprised.’ He brings his wine glass to his lips and lets go of her hand to gesture down himself.

Chloe rolls her eyes. ‘Yeah, like you didn’t go home and wanked yourself blind that night.’

He laughs, surprised by her bluntness, and shamelessly answers, ‘Why, of course I did. That night, other nights. Before and after that kiss. This morning. You serve as quite the spank bank, my dear.’

She definitely doesn’t blush at that. But she does glance down at his waistcoat, at the soft skin and hard muscles she knows hide beneath it. She gives him a slow and dirty smirk, appreciative.

‘You too, baby.’

Lucifer raises an eyebrow, his eyes darkening. Much to Chloe’s satisfaction, his neck and cheeks redden a little. Then he gives her a lopsided grin, smug and impressed.

‘Pray tell, Detective.’ His eyes glide down her face, her chest, her stomach, and slowly back up again.

In another time, she would have given him a stern look and told him it was none of his business, but she doesn’t. She also doesn’t tell him about lonely nights and long showers and crying his name into her pillow when they were still just friends. Instead, she leans across the table and half-whispers—

‘If you behave yourself tonight, I might show you.’

He gulps. Squirms a little in his seat, and—when he’s regained his composure and quite indiscreetly adjusted himself under the table—leans forward till there’s only mere inches between their faces.

‘Is that a promise?’ His voice is low and husky, his breath hot against her face. His eyes drop to her lips.

‘Pardon, monsieur, mais l’entrée est prête.’

They lean back in their seats and turn to the poor, young waiter, who’s balancing two seemingly heavy plates, a carafe of water, and a basket of crusty bread in his arms.

‘Lovely!’ Lucifer’s eyes follow the food as the waiter puts it down in front of them. ‘Merci beaucoup, Olivier.’

Olivier smiles at Lucifer, shy but with a look in his eyes Chloe knows all too well. She doesn’t blame him.

‘Ça va?’ Lucifer asks, his voice lined with genuine fondness.

Olivier nods. ‘Oui, ça va. Et toi?’

Lucifer looks to Chloe, beaming. He takes her hand on the table and interlocks their fingers again.

‘Tout va très bien,’ he answers, looking back up at Olivier with a dazzling smile.

Olivier’s eyes drop to their hands and, probably, to the ring, white and pearlescent, on Chloe’s third finger. His lips tug up at the corner.

‘Je peux voir ça. Félicitations!’ Before Lucifer can respond to that, whatever it means, Olivier gestures towards their food. ‘Et bon appétit.’

Lucifer replies with a friendly ‘merci’ and calls out something like ‘Salue ton père de ma part!’ as Olivier walks off.

Chloe stares at Lucifer, twirling the smashed bullet around her neck between her fingers.

‘What?’ he asks, curious.

She tilts her head, smiling. ‘French suits you.’

He smiles back, lasciviously. ‘Yeah?’

‘Mm-hm.’

The look he gives her leaves no doubt that, sooner or later, he’ll be whispering foreign phrases against her skin.

But right now, they have other appetites to sate. They dig into the first course, and the (assumedly) insanely high prices suddenly make sense, because it is frigging good. The main course is even more delicious—divine, actually, to the point where Chloe has to ask Lucifer if he accidentally spiked the food with a blessing or two. He assures her it’s all Olivier’s father, no holiness involved, apart from Chef Beaumont’s heavenly cœeur de filet de bœuf. Chloe moans in agreement, savouring every bite.

He watches her with a smile, jokingly apologising for not serving her grilled cheese, and she makes a bad joke about this date being cheesy enough as it is. Because it is cheesy. Him buying her a dress, bringing her red roses, the love note, the candlelit restaurant, the French food, not to mention the suit. It’s like a rom-com parody.

But it’s also perfect. It’s everything she’s longed for, an over-the-top romantic date night with her- with her partner. A date that isn’t cut short by a horny stewardess (may she rest in peace) or a failed attempt at exorcism; where Lucifer actually shows up and isn’t just trying to outdo another man; where Chloe isn’t trying to make him ‘do something good for a change’; and their parents aren’t tagging along on a headache-inducing surprise double date that is also a sting in disguise.

So, in some ways, it is kinda their first date.

And it’s a really, really nice date.

They laugh—they laugh so much. More than they’ve done in the past few months combined. Or so it feels, at least.

They laugh, and they talk. About movies they cried to, favourite drinks, and how they’re gonna paint the living room. About the summers spent under the plum tree in Nana’s garden, and all the pranks pulled in the gilded meadows of Heaven. About chasing Amenadiel through the clouds, and how Chloe always wanted a sibling. About her short-lived Hollywood experience and that one time she may have gotten a little high at a Backstreet Boys concert. (He seems impressed by that, her ‘abhorrent’ taste in music aside.) They exchange secrets they never told anyone, stories of bad kisses—Jed used too much tongue; Will was always better with words—and tales from drunken nights out. They reminisce on the first time they met—how annoying she’d found him, how compelling he’d found her—and the many, many cases, some really weird, that first encounter led to.

They talk about Dan.

About missing him, even though he’s making waffles with Charlotte now.

About Trixie, and how therapy seems to be helping her, too. How she still sometimes breaks down crying, but no longer crawls into their bed in the middle of the night, shaking and gasping for air. How she’d laughed the other day, and it’d made them both cry. How incredibly strong she is, that little urchin.

They talk about going to Paris one day, all three of them—the French do make excellent chocolate cakes—or maybe somewhere else she wants to see, once everything is calmer. They talk about some of the prayers Lucifer has been hearing, about faith and free will, what they miss about solving crimes together, what they don’t miss, and how they’re still very much partners, even more so now—in every corner of life.

They talk till their cheeks hurt from smiling and Chloe’s half-drunk on expensive Burgundy. Lucifer asks for the cheque, their food long gone, and pays with cash, making sure to leave a tip possibly the size of Olivier’s monthly salary.

They leave the restaurant giggling about a stupid joke Lucifer makes, his hand splayed out on the small of her back. Her own hand is placed much lower than what is decent for such a fancy place like this, practically cupping his ass, but she’s tipsy enough not to care, and he doesn’t seem to mind the attention. It’s his own fault, anyway, for having his pants tailored to hug his butt like this.

Naturally, Lucifer drives. He doesn’t hold back his comments on how slow and boring her car is, but at least he stays somewhere close to the speed limit. She wishes he’d also wear a seatbelt, and keep both hands on the wheel, but his palm is nice and warm on her thigh, and she trusts he’ll get them home safely. She leans back in her seat, her head comfortably buzzing from wine and him, and watches the blurry city lights through the window. He’s turned down 2ndStreet.

‘Where are we going?’ She looks over at him, curious.

He smiles in the shadows, his fingers stroking the skin left exposed by the slit in her dress. His touch leaves hot, tingling paths on her thigh.

‘I thought we’d go for a second desert.’

Chloe is beyond full, her dress stretched over her now slightly rounder belly, and she can think of other things she’d rather do (things that include pinning Lucifer to their bed and making him groan and beg and laugh), but she’ll never say no to a freshly brewed latte and watching Lucifer obscenely enjoy some Sicilian pastry.

She turns up the radio, fumbling a bit, and closes her eyes with a smile, more content than she’s been in… a long time. His hand stays on her thigh as they move through the night, fingers tapping to the beat of the songs against her skin, creeping higher, teasing, just enough to make her breath hitch, but nothing more, and then back down again. Maybe they’ll just take that latte to-go.

The car comes to a final halt, and first then does Chloe realise they haven’t stopped outside the late-night café and bakery that’s opened down on Spring Street.

‘Lucifer, what’—she looks around, double-checking—‘what are we doing at the back entrance to the precinct? You said we were getting desert.’

He leans across the centre console, fingers spreading on her thigh, and brings their faces so close their noses touch. Chloe swallows.

‘We are,’ he assures her with a wolfish grin, his gaze lingering hungrily on her, and she could jump him right then and there. But he takes his hand off her body and clicks her seatbelt free, pulls the key out of the ignition and exits the car. He strides to her side and opens the door for her, gentlemanly as ever, and she watches him with narrowed eyes as she takes his hand and steps out, sceptical even in her cloud of lust and inebriation.

He heads directly for the back entrance and opens the black iron door with ease, rudely ignoring the state-of-the-art security locks. A part of her knows she should stop him right there and give him a stern talking-to about respecting human laws—he still can’t do whatever the hell he likes just because he’s God now. But another part, the part of her who helped him empty two bottles of French wine, really wants to step over that threshold, to intertwine their fingers and go on a late-night adventure. And that part of her must overpower the other, because she lets him snake his arm around her waist and lead her through the door and inside the familiar building.

She senses him grinning by her side, his fingers curling around her hip in a deliciously tight grip that only stokes the heat pooling low in her belly. He takes her down the corridor, around the corner, and then they’re there, in the middle of the precinct. Everything is covered in darkness, the wide, open space only illuminated by a never-resting info screen and the purplish glow from the vending machine. Still, she can make out the shape of their desk, the door to Ella’s lab, the interrogation room. The fridge in the breakroom still hums obnoxiously, and the air smells like strong coffee and sugary glaze—or maybe that’s just a phantom. Either way, it all tugs at her heart, beckons her down memory lane, and she lets herself be pulled. Through the good, the bad, and the crazy.

Lucifer is quiet beside her, probably lost in nostalgia himself, or maybe just letting her have this moment. But not for long. With titillating eagerness and a devilish smirk, he wraps his fingers around her wrist and pulls her by the hand—towards the evidence closet.

He presses her up against the door, his body hot and hard against hers, and pins her hand against the cold glass of the frosted window. His dark eyes sparkle with mischievous excitement.

‘There’s something we never got to try.’

Her pulse quickens, blood humming loud and hot.

‘Lucifer, we can’t.’ She tries to sound firm around her suddenly heavy breaths and dry throat, but he doesn’t seem discouraged in the least.

He leans in, closer, his smirking lips brush against her ear. ‘Can’t we, now?’

And as if he hadn’t done enough already, he takes her earlobe between his teeth and bites it.

Chloe smothers a gasp.

‘We shouldn’t.’ She puts her hand on his chest and pushes her head against his, nudging him away from her neck so she can thinkfor a second. He reluctantly obeys and settles for placing his hands on her sides, dangerously high, thumbs almost stroking the underside of her breasts. She pushes his hands down to her waist. ‘We shouldn’t have sex in Evidence—shouldn’t have broken into the precinct in the first place. I mean, do you want us to get arrested?’

He only laughs at that, of course. ‘I’m God, darling. I won’t get arrested.’

Chloe rolls her eyes. He would probably charm his way out of it if they were caught, God or not—but that doesn’t make any of this okay. She’s about to tell him as much when he adds-

‘But if you wanted to cuff me and tell me what to do, resisting would be the last thing on my mind. In fact, I’m sure we can find some cuffs lying about-’

‘Lucifer, no.’

Her tone is sharper than she’d intended. He pulls back a little, studying her face. His eyes flicker to her parted lips, her flushed, heaving chest, and then back to her determined gaze. His brows furrow.

‘Do you really not want to do this?’ His voice is soft, serious.

They stare at each other, hot breaths mingling. He’s still pressed up against her, a six-foot-three wall of muscle and love, and his scent—spicy cologne and smoke—floods her head like ambrosia, a dizzying fog of him. Her skin burns beneath his palms, his touch sending embers through the expensive fabric and down, flames licking at her inner thighs. Her heartbeat thumps in her ears.

‘We don’t even work here anymore,’ she rasps, deflecting his question. It’s a weak excuse, but she is fraying at the edges.

A salacious smile forms on Lucifer’s face. ‘We’ll just pretend we do.’

He takes a step back, putting a more ‘professional’ distance between them, adjusts his lapels and attempts at a neutral expression. ‘You wanted to show me something in Evidence, Detective?’

And there’s that word again, want—because she still hasn’t answered his question and her consent means more to him than anything. She loves him for that, she really does, but right now, it’s not that simple. She wants, every cell in her body wants, wants him to shove her into that closet and take her apart. Has wanted it for so long, thought about it for years—at her desk, in the shower, while sitting next to him during interrogations. Thought about it in the self-same evidence closet, as she was pressed up against the wall by someone else. Imagined tugging at his hair, feeling him between her legs—even had to swallow his name. She still thinks about it, thought about it the other night, briefly, wistfully, while making a cup of tea. Thought about how much fun they could have had, sneaking off to secret corners of the precinct like two horny teenagers—if it hadn’t been for, well, mostly Michael, and all the chaos he’d released upon their lives.

In fact, it’s only fair they have at least one reckless, semi-public rendezvous. Just one. To make up for the honeymoon phase they never really had. With all the hurt and heartbreak they’ve had to go through, alone and together, they deserve to have one night of stupid fun.

On the other hand, and this is why it’s not that simple, it’s a bad idea. It’s a really bad idea. And also, pretty illegal. If she asked him to, if she said no now, he would take her home and push her up against the nearest surface, bury himself in her faster than any of them could get their clothes off, bring her to ecstasy-

But it’s not the same. It just isn’t.

With as much innocence she can muster, she looks up at his anticipatory face and puts her hand on the doorknob. The cold steel is a soothing balm against her burning skin.

‘I do want to show you something in Evidence.’

He lights up like it’s a declaration of love, all unrestrained enthusiasm.

‘After you, darling.’

Their lips crash against each other before the door is even closed. He pushes her backwards in the semi-darkness, between shelves and boxes, hands low on her hips. His fingers dig softly into her ass as they stumble towards a sliver of wall together, panting and laughing against each other’s mouths. He doesn’t break contact with her lips as he quickly sheds his jacket on the way and throws it over his shoulder, for the moment uncaring of dirt and creases. Then her back hits the wall with a thunk and she’s instantly struck by déjà vu, until Lucifer grabs her thigh inside the slit of her dress, and the unwelcome memory quickly evaporates in the heat of their clashing bodies as he wraps her bare leg around his waist and pins her to the wall with the hard press of his hips. Their unison groans fill the cramped space.

‘We shouldn’t be here,’ she murmurs breathlessly against his lips before opening her mouth to let his tongue back in. He tastes like wine and crème brûlée.

He hums in disagreement. ‘We should always be here, Detective.’ With the hand still on her ass, he pushes their bodies impossibly closer together and rocks against her. She moans, despite herself.

‘We- I-‘ Chloe stammers, leaning her head back as he kisses his way down her neck, her mind and body pulling in different directions. ‘This is- why am I letting you get away with this?’

She feels him smirk against her throat. His hand slowly glides up her inner thigh—her pulse quickening with every inch—until his thumb brushes past damp fabric.

‘Because you like me.’ His beard rasps against her hot skin in the crook of her neck, a contrast to his soft lips placing slow, open-mouthed kisses from her jaw to her collar. ‘Because you love me.’

Chloe scoffs.

‘Do I love you?’ she questions, her breathing erratic, her eyes turned to the ceiling as he sucks a mark onto her neck. With the hand that is still between her legs, he pushes her underwear to the side and rubs against her, nice and slow. ‘Yes.’ Her gasped answer has a proud, almost victorious chuckle rumbling from his chest.

‘But do I like you?’—she bites her lip and stifles another moan as his fingers press just right—‘That’s still up for debate.’

He breaks off the assault on her neck and looks up at her, eyes black with desire.

‘Allow me to try and tip the scales, then.’

She’s bereaved of his fingers as his hand moves to the edge of her underwear, pulling it down as he sinks to his knees. She almost stumbles when he slips it over her feet, but he grabs her leg, steadying her, and helps her out of her stilettos. Once she’s barefoot, his warm palms slide up the side of her legs, pushes the hem of her dress up a few inches, and then his mouth is on her.

He licks her, slowly, tenderly. She reaches down to pull at his hair, commanding him to give her more, to take more, and he does. He starts feasting on her, all tongue and lips and-

‘God, yes.’

He chuckles smugly into her core. ‘I do love it when you moan my name, darling.’ Eyes fixed on hers, he gives her a nice, long lick before he dives back in. He kisses her clit, sucks it, circles it, laps at her like he can’t get enough, and she’s reduced to a quivering, whimpering mess. She bucks against his face, needing more, and he does that thing that she likes, tongue flicking her clit, warm and wet, as he pushes a finger inside her.

Her eyes clench shut, her head falls back against the wall. She doesn’t bother holding back her groan this time.

Lucifer hums against her, low and greedy, taking as much as he can, before he pulls away with ragged breaths. ‘Ma déesse, que tu as bon gout.’

The meaning is forever lost on her, but his hungry tone, the way his tongue wraps smoothly around the French syllables, the words dripping like sin from his glistening lips, sends warm shivers down her spine.

He slows down his pace inside her, places kisses on her lower belly, seeks her ticklish spots and the ones that make her breath hitch, and then trails down to her hips, studying her sharp bone with his lips and his teeth, before moving down to her thigh, stubble prickling her tender skin. As if he’s got all the time in the world, he lets his mouth travel to the insides of her legs, already spread for him, and kisses a path up her inner thighs, getting closer and closer to where she aches with need,but never quite there. His finger, still moving slowly—too slowly—curls a bit, reaches that spot deep inside her that usually makes her see stars, but he pulls back before she’s even done gasping.

‘Lucifer,’ she breathes, a threat and a plea.

He places one last kiss to her sensitive thigh, nuzzles his nose against her heat, before his tongue finally finds her clit again and his finger starts pumping inside her, fast and hard. Then faster, harder, and, fuck, deeper.

‘Baby,’ she begs him to continue, fire spreading through her body, from her curling toes to her already heated cheeks.

He slows down for a second, and she reaches down to scratch at his scalp in frustration but quickly forgives him when he adds another finger and resumes his perfect pace, thrusting up in her to the beat of her racing heart.

‘Je veux te faire jouir.’ His thumb replaces his tongue as he looks up at her, eyes sparkling with lust and determination, but also patience. Like he could do this for hours, the whole night, as long as she falls apart around his tongue and fingers in the end.

He doesn’t need all night, though. She’s close, so close, can feel the beginning of that blissful high burning in her lower belly, between her thighs, where his mouth licks and nibbles and sucks. A building warmth pumping through her veins. She grabs at his hair, wraps her leg around his shoulder and pushes his face closer into her heat, needing that last-

‘Fuck, right there,’ she gasps. Right there right there right there.

He smirks against her, always eager to please, and does as she says. As she’s teetering on the edge, he curls both fingers inside her, goes impossibly deeper, and reaches the same spot as before, except this time, he doesn’t stop, and she comes with a shudder and a gasped ‘fuck!’ as he licks her through it.

‘Tu es tellement belle, ma chérie,’ he tells her, voice soft with awe as she comes down from her high and opens her eyes. She understands enough of the words to smile down at him, at his dishevelled hair, his swollen lips, and warm, chocolatey eyes.

‘You too, baby.’

She still hasn’t caught her breath when he, after wiping his mouth on her thigh, slowly rises from his feet and starts making his way up her body. His fingers skate lightly up her dress, his knuckles brushing against her rising and falling ribs as his hands sneak higher and higher, closer and closer. With a feather-light touch, he starts tracing the curves of her breasts, deliberately avoiding her aching nipples. He teases her with his fingers, kisses her neck, lips trailing, hot and slow, up to her jaw and the sensitive spot behind her earlobe.

‘J’ai envie de toi,’ he says into her ear, his voice rough with want and determination.

Chloe can’t take it anymore. She fists his waistcoast in one hand and grabs him by the hair with the other to pull him up into a hard kiss. He tries to stay in control, to hold back his obvious desire for just a little longer, but he quickly loses the battle and lets a bit of hunger take over. They pour equal heat into the kiss, tongues pressing and teeth clashing as their mouths slide against each other. She threads her fingers through his curls, he bites her lip, and they both groan and gasp into the kiss.

Chloe’s the one to pull away, needing air sooner than him. They’re looking into each other’s eyes, both panting, when he says it again, ‘J’ai envie de toi.’ This time, breathy desperation shines through his voice. ‘Je veux être en toi.’

And then they’re kissing again and both of them are working at his belt and pants in a flurry of hands until he’s finally inside her with one quick thrust. He fills her to the hilt, deliciously stretching her inner muscles, warm and hard. For a moment, they’re both so overcome they can only pause and breathe, Lucifer’s forehead cradled in the crook of her shoulder as her hand gently strokes the short hairs on the back of his neck.

He pulls back to look deeply into her eyes, and starts off slow. Not teasing, just tender. He kisses her cheeks and neck, every inch of skin he can reach with his lips, and whispers sweet nothings against her skin. She can’t know for sure, of course, because it’s still in French, and she doesn’t catch all of it, the sounds alien and muffled—‘t’es incroyable’, she hears, ‘j’suis fou amoureux de toi’—but something about his tone tells her it’s not as dirty as whatever he was saying before. Still, it makes her just as wet, the words tingling across her skin.

He picks up the pace, wraps her legs tighter around him, and pushes her harder against the wall. His hand grasps her breast roughly, seeking purchase, then rhythmically strokes over her nipple in apology, and she moans her relief. The shelves on either side of them hit the wall with a consistent thump, thump, thump as he thrusts up into her, fucks her, their harsh pants mingling in the small space between their parted lips. Chloe claws at Lucifer’s shoulders and back, hands scrambling for something to hold onto. Even through the two layers of fabric, she can feel his warmth and muscles, and a sudden urge bubbles up within her. With desperate fingers, she starts undoing the buttons on his shirt, but it takes too long—she needs him—so she rips open both shirt and waistcoat and frantically pushes them off his shoulders. He pins her against the wall with a hard thrust, letting go of her thigh and breast to shake the material onto the floor, and Chloe scratches at his finally bare back and shoulders, nails digging into slick, freckled flesh. She arches back into the wall and bares her neck for him to nip and kiss.

‘Fuck, Lucifer!’ she whines. ‘Oh, God, baby, fuckyes!’

He growls at the sound of her noises and bites her ear.

‘J’adore baiser avec toi.’ One hand slides down to her ass, holding her and pushing her dress higher up as the other bites into the now bare skin at her waist. The sharp touch sends a jolt down to her throbbing clit, making her clench tighter around him. ‘J’adore ton corps. T’es vraiment une déesse.’ The last word is a groan against her lips as he kisses her.

It’s wet, messy, and so delicious they both grasp tightly onto each other’s mouths with lips, tongues and teeth, neither of them wanting to ever let go.

‘Je veux t’embrasser,’ Lucifer pants when they break apart for a second, his gaze fixed on her mouth as their lungs fight for air. His dark eyes soften when they look into hers. ‘Chaque jour de ma vie,’ he adds reverently as he leans in. ‘Pour toujours.’ And then he kisses her again, like he wants it to last for all eternity.

His thrusts turn slower and deeper as they kiss, harder, until kissing becomes panting into each other’s mouths and Chloe’s head falls back in sheer pleasure. He tightens his grip on her ass and runs the hand on her waist up her side, brushing his thumb over her nipple as he passes her breast, up her neck, and cups the side of her face. She lets their eyes meet, and the way he’s looking at her, with absolute awe and gratitude, makes her heart flutter and her hips buck against his bare stomach. Her hands slide from where they’ve been clutching his mess of a hair to his back, trailing down to where he’s most sensitive. She places her palms on either side of his spine and presses lightly, carefully.

‘Tu me-’ he cuts off with a gasp when her nails skim over his hidden wings, ‘Tu me rends- fucking hell, Chloe.’

She keens at the guttural sound of her name. He leans his forehead against hers with a grunt, the slight change in angle making his rhythm falter, one hand slamming against the wall next to her. She watches the rest of his control slip through glazed eyes. She did this to him. She rendered God himself lost to his own bliss. That knowledge itself is nearly enough to push her over the edge.

‘Close,’ she breathes.

He grabs both her thighs with strong hands and presses her flush up against the wall, going impossibly deeper inside her. She hisses through her teeth and sputters all kinds of incoherent, unholy prayers into the sweltering air between them. Every hard thrust pushes her closer to ecstasy.

‘You make me so happy,’ Lucifer whispers, sounding so wrecked and raw her eyes clench shut. ‘I want- I hope- fuck- I hope I make you, nnf, just as happy.’

‘You do, baby. You make me so- so-’

Heat floods her veins as she comes, the sweet tension snapping all at once. She cries out, arches her back, and moans long and low as he continues to fuck her through it. His thrusts are quick and inelegant, his arms and thighs trembling, and she knows he’s close. She intentionally clenches around him, whispers his name, and then he too is tumbling over the edge, the only type of falling she ever wants him to feel again.

They smile at each other as they try to catch their breaths, sweaty foreheads still pressed together.

‘I love you,’ he says. ‘So much.’

She hums with happiness, her heart pleasantly aching at the sound of the words he couldn’t say the last time they were here.

‘I love you too, babe.’ She reaches up to lazily nuzzle the hairs at the nape of his neck, still smiling.

‘Maybe you even like me?’

She lets out a breathy chuckle and slides down the wall to land on her bare feet. Her legs are… wobbly, to say the least. Lucifer smirks at her.

‘We’ll see about that.’ She smoothes out her dress as he tucks himself back into his pants and fastens his belt. ‘If anyone ever finds out about this, your chances are pretty bad, buddy.’

She collects his clothes from the floor and helps him into his shirt. Two buttons are missing, lost to the force of her hasty ripping. It gives her an odd sense of satisfaction, the fact that the shirt he wore when they first kissed—the shirt she dreamt of tearing off his body—now is marked by their little escapade. (At least until he gets his tailor to fix it.)

‘Well, I’ll just have to keep trying to convince you then, won’t I?’ He licks his lips and lifts his eyebrows as he offers her a hand to help her up from the floor once she’s put her shoes back on. Chloe bites her cheek so as to not smile at his suggestion and intertwines their fingers.

‘You can start by helping me assemble that new shelf system tomorrow,’ she tells him, waiting for him to groan in response, or mumble something about hiring some people to do it for them. But he doesn’t. He just opens the door for her and lets her go first with a soft smile on his still flushed face.

‘Anything for you, my love.’

The door shuts with a gentle click behind them.

[mycroftrh]

I would like more information on matriarch trees and weird forest facts in general, please?

So, for outside sources (that have more to say about matriarch trees) there's a whole book written for a general audience called "The Hidden Life of Trees". My top recommendation in general tho is there's a super cool article on the Smithsonian's website that goes remarkably in depth about tree communication and matriarch trees and tree senses, with bits from a lot of different tree scientists. ...I can't link it because Tumblr Be Tumblr but if you google "smithsonian magazine do trees talk to each other" it'll pull up. There's a delightful quote in it from the author of that book: "They call me a 'tree-hugger', which is not true. I don't believe trees respond to hugs."

For now tho I will give you three random forest facts from my forest fact collection.

First is really Tree Facts:

"Tree" is an almost meaningless term. There's not actually a biological definition of "tree". If you select two random "trees" they're probably less closely related to each other than you are to a tubeworm. "Tree" just means "tall plant with a central stem, probably woody, probably has leaves".

"Trees" appear in two plant types; angiosperm (plants with flowers or fruits) and gymnosperm (plants with... not those; they put their seeds in cones and the like). Yes, that does mean an oak is biologically more similar to a daisy than it is to a sequoia.

Angiosperm trees divide basically into three categories; "palms, bananas, and bamboo," "the dinosaur-age ones (inc. magnolias, avocado, and nutmeg)", and "...all of the other ones".

(Note: this means that if anyone tries to be all snooty about "technically, bamboo is grass" you can answer "technically, a maple tree is a flower," because that is exactly as much true.)

The thing I was actually trying to get to tho was the kinds of gymnosperms. Even if we don't restrict it to trees, there are only four categories of gymnosperm. One is gnetopyhta, there are about 70 surviving species you've probably never heard of, tho it is cool that there's one of these over 2,000 years old living in Namibia. One is cycads, which is most of the plants that were around for the dinosaurs, there are several hundred species left. They look a lot like palms. Third is conifers, and that's where you get most of your trees: pine, sequoia, cedar, cypress, juniper, fir, etc.

Fourth is gingko.

Not "gingkos".

Gingko.

The only species left of this entire category of plant is Gingko biloba. It's one of the oldest plant types, from hundreds of millions of years before the entire concept of 'flowering plants'. They almost all went extinct by five million years ago, except for this one, single, "living fossil" species. Both the species and the individual trees can live through darn near anything. There are gingko trees that have thrived after being at the center of the blast radius of an atomic bomb.

If you see a gingko, give it a round of applause - it's a survivor.

Second random forest fact:

I'm gonna introduce you to a specific forest!

His name is Pando. Pando is the world's heaviest living organism, and possibly the world's oldest. He covers 108 acres, weighs more than 6 million kilograms (more than 13 million pounds), and is many thousands of years old. Most current estimates are around fourteen thousand years, but some biologists have suggested up to a million years, and 80,000 is a pretty common guess.

"But you said Pando was a forest," the imagined you in my head points out. Yep! Pando, also called "the trembling giant", is both a forest and a single tree. Pando is a single male quaking aspen.

There are two ways aspens make more of themselves: by pretty 'normal' reproduction, with pollen and flowers, or by root sprouts. With a root sprout, the aspen sends out a root underground and then just... grows another stem up from it. It doesn't make a second plant, just a second stem. They're just as connected to each other as two branches of the same tree, it's just that their 'trunk' is underground. You can test the DNA of each stem, and they'll be genetically identical, just as your left hand is genetically identical to your right hand.

Pando, apparently, decided many thousands of years ago that he just... really, REALLY liked doing that. Why have sex when you can just get bigger. So he's been growing that way ever since. If you get a leaf from one side of Pando, walk across the 108 acres to the other side, and get another leaf, they're genetically identical. The whole forest shares one single root system. (Not a connected root system. Just literally all one root system.)

A single stem of an aspen doesn't live for more than 300 years (generally no more than 130, in Pando's region). So Pando's very first stem has been gone for a very long time. But when one stem dies, he just makes a new one. So, theoretically - barring climate change etcetera - Pando could outlive the mountain he stands on.

Pando: repping the immortal-asexual community since ????? BC.

Third, the type of forest fact you were probably actually after (that you can read more about in the article linked up top):

Trees can tell when they're being "attacked", and will warn other trees to defend themselves. A lot of different kinds of tree do this, in different ways. I'mma talk here about acacias.

Acacia trees get grazed on by giraffes, and the giraffes will strip off enough leaves to harm the trees. Acacias have a defense mechanism against giraffes, which is to pump tannins into their leaves. Tannins taste very bitter and are also somewhat poisonous, so the giraffe will stop eating the tree.

The problem is, a) they can't keep their leaves full of tannins all the time and b) it takes a few minutes to start releasing the tannins. So by the time a tree is being eaten, it's already too late!

So: they warn each other about the danger.

When an acacia is bitten, it senses the injury and releases a distress-signalling chemical into the air. Other trees 'smell' the chemical, telling them that they're about to be attacked, and start pumping out tannins. So by the time the giraffe has finished with the first tree, the other trees are able to protect themselves.

(Don't worry about the first tree. Getting nibbled on once probably won't hurt it, and it'll get warned by another tree next time.)

[tinyboxxtink]

“The Man Of Your Dreams”

Y’all. Y’ALL. 

I was gonna make this a series but then I was like “Aw nah I can wrap it up neatly in one go”.

And that “one go” took 3 and 1/2 hours and 10 pages!!!!!!!! (on GoogleDocs anyway...) 

I went with my “keep dreaming about a man and then you go off to find him” idea.

The dating app one might be for a longer series, idk yet.

But this, this is my baby.

Like I said, I had this dream. Specifically the first and last scene. And ya’ll while I wrote the crescendo, I played Tyler Blackburn’s “Can’t Love Me.” Specifically starting at 2:11. I highly recommend playing it as you read from:

“Until out of nowhere--“Y/N???””

But that’s just me. I replayed that scene with the music about a thousand times in my head, I won’t lie to you.

I hope you love this as much as I do!!

Tag List

@wanniiieeee

@dumauier

@word-scribbless

@objection-argumentative

@chasingeverybreakingwave

------

“Oh no it’s happening again.”

“What?! No not now,”

“Yeah I feel it, the pulling,”

“Dammit! No no no…” He grabbed you on both of your sides and pulled you into his chest as tightly as he could, but you knew it wouldn’t help; You were fading, and the last words you hear were:

“I will find you!!” 

----------------

Suddenly, you woke up in your bed in a cold sweat. 

“Dammit...not again,” You shook your head. “No, no no no NO!!!!” You let yourself have a moment of breakdown, before immediately grabbing the pencil and giant pad of paper from under your bed. You had to get it down before it faded, again. The face, HIS face. You furiously filled in the lines on his face you had missed before, and you finally got the dimples on his mouth right. However, it was the eyes that drove you most insane.

Half filled in while the rest of his face was taking shape, his eyes were the one thing you could never quite get. Not that you hadn’t seen them enough, you had been having dreams about this man for over a month straight now. Every night, the same man. But it didn’t feel like dreaming, not in the slightest. It felt very much like being awake in this world, everything was so real.

He was so real.

And so, after a week of these “episodes”, you decided to yourself that this couldn’t be a coincidence, that it was NOT a mix of your subconscious making up scenarios in your head, it was real. This man existed somewhere, and you were going to find him. 

However the question of “How” was still very annoyingly present. Sure you and this man had talked about everything, seriously EVERYTHING. Likes, dislikes, career, life stories--- well, at least you were pretty sure you had.

 Some conversations in your dream world were completely crystal clear in your mind-- 

When he was six and all he wanted was a red bike, and come Christmas morning it wasn’t there. He had stormed around his mom’s apartment having a total temper tantrum until his abuelita asked him to check if she had left her keys out in the hall from last minute shopping. He opened the door to reveal a brand new, shiny red 10 speed bike propped against their doorway.

“We lived on the 10th floor, with no elevator. My mom and abuelita carried that thing up 10 flights of stairs just so I’d have a happy Christmas morning,” He had told you with tears in his eyes.

And then others, containing any real information about where to find him, were a blur. Specific details like his name, his job, even where he currently lived-- they sounded like garbled nonsense when you tried to recall them.

The Universe is a sadistic bastard.

But that conversation about the bike-- it was so specific and so detailed that there was no way your mind could have made it up. No way. But all you knew was that at some point in his childhood he lived with his mom and abuela in a 10th story apartment somewhere in New York City. That’s it. 

And one more thing that you couldn’t shake-- his touch. 

There had been a dream where he had asked to kiss you, to which you happily agreed. He had pulled you close into his arms, his hands ran through your hair as he pressed his lips against yours. And every dream since then, you two were always either holding hands or holding each other, or touching in any capacity-- as if you were both trying to memorize what it felt like.

Of course this still being “a dream”, a lot of the times your “dates” with this man were just playing out themselves, and you were blissfully unaware that they were even dreams. So you’d never think of asking “real” questions like where to meet or something. Only those few moments before you would wake would you realize “Oh that’s right, this isn’t real.” And by then it was too late.

But today was the day. You were sure of it. You had finally finished your drawing of your “dream man”, apart from the filled in eyes. Only an eyeline shaped hole rested in the middle of his perfect face. 

“Okay, that is just horrifying” You heard your roommate’s voice behind you.

“What? It’s perfect, Shi!” You defended your drawing. 

Sure you had hesitated telling your best friend of 10 years about your “situation”, but once you decided that you were going to find him, you knew you’d need her help. And so, after a very long conversation over a LOT of drinks, you had convinced her to help you. Well, reluctantly help you. 

“Well it’ll be no problem trying to find a guy with NO EYES,” She giggled.

“Shut up, I just...I can’t get them right,” 

“Can’t get them right? Girl have you or have you not told me that you have studied that man’s face EVERY night for the past 6 weeks?” 

“Yeah but….they’re so...perfect,” You sighed-- the gaping eye hole was mocking you. It was like the Universe saying “Good luck finding him without THESE!!!!” 

But you knew, you just knew in your heart of hearts that if you saw his eyes in real life, you’d know. You’d know instantly. You had this-- look, between you. The way he looked at you, the love and passion in his beautiful green eyes.

You couldn’t draw that on paper.

“Well just how do you expect us to make a “missed connection” flier with a demon looking guy like that?” 

“Look Shiloh, it’s a start ok?” 

“It’s not! You need those eyes, eyes are the most distinguishing trait on a person’s face!” She shook the paper at you.

“I know that!!!” you scoffed.

“Alright well...just, try again tonight yeah?” She put a hand on your shoulder.

“Yeah alright,”

----

The next night you did all the nightly rituals you had read and researched up on how to “lucid dream”. Eating certain foods, meditating before bed, repeating mantras as you fell asleep-- sometimes they helped you take control of the dreams, sometimes not.

But this has never happened.

-----------

You were suddenly “awake”, in a park. Wait, this wasn’t just some generic “Dream” park. You knew this park. You immediately started scanning the sights around you-- kids playing and running around, people talking on a fountain-- The fountain. You knew that fountain. Your eyes darted quicker around the scenic picture for a statute, and there it was.

This was Central Park. And not just Central Park, a very specific part of Central Park that you passed most days on your way to work. Could this just be the “coincidence” normal dream stuff seeping in? Just images of your day being played out in your REM cycle? I mean he wasn’t even--

“Dream girl,” His voice came from behind you. 

You spun to face the fountain and saw him in an off white cream colored suit, with a pink tie. His hair was in a coif, and for the first time maybe ever, you noticed him carrying a briefcase. 

“Hey you,” You smiled, pulling him into a long, deep kiss. 

“So, Central Park today huh? You know you could’ve told me that beforehand I wouldn’t have paid an Uber to drive --- blocks.” You noticed the blurb in his number. Wait, wait this wasn’t happening.

“Wait, what?” You were suddenly “awake” .

“My office? It’s just about ---- blocks that way,” He pointed forward-- South. 

His office was south from Central Park, only a few blocks away. Within walking distance.

“What else?” You grabbed him.

“What else? Baby are you ok…?” He backed up one step in concern.

“Dammit, snap out of it abogado!!!” You snapped at him, leaving you both in shock-- but for two different reasons. 

He was suddenly “awake” in this world too, but you had just called him a name in spanish that you did not know the meaning of.

“Since when do you know spanish?” He asked.

“It’s spanish? QUICK tell me what it means!!!” You shook him.

“Abogado means--” 

-----------

And he was gone. It was gone. You had been pulled suddenly from your dream world, something that had never happened before. It wasn’t even morning yet, the sun was barely peeking out from the skyline. You had never gotten that close to getting details from him, NEVER.

Maybe the Universe was catching on. 

You grabbed your phone from the charger beside you and furiously typed “Abogado” into google translate. And there it was, in black and white:

Lawyer.

This guy was a lawyer, who worked a few blocks south of Central Park. If he was real. You sighed to yourself as you put your phone down and went back to sleep.

-----------------------------

And you were in the park again. 

“Hey, there you are! Where’d you go?” the “abogado” asked you with his dreamy smile. Wait, was he “asleep” again? And why did you pick up here? He knew you were gone? WAS THIS PLACE REAL?

“ABOGADO,” You shouted at him like a crazy person.

“...You don’t know spanish, why do you know-- Oh my god,” The man was suddenly cognizant of everything.

“Baby! Aw, baby girl I’ve missed you..” He pulled you into a kiss. You let him for a second, then pulled away quickly.

“Look, I don’t know what’s happening but this--” You gestured around the park. “This is near where I live. In reality,” 

His eyes widened as he recognized where you were. “This is a few blocks from my office-- in reality,” 

“Really? Really.” You were becoming frantic.

“I mean, if this is at all real, and you’re real--” He began looking around the park.

“I’M real, are YOU real?” You couldn’t believe he was questioning YOUR existence.

“I think the fact that we’re both questioning each other’s existence, might be either brain death or some kind of reality where we both do indeed exist,” He smirked.

“God you’re smart, why did I not know this before?”

“...I don’t know, we don’t really get into details usually, do we?” 

“No but now-- oh my god, NOW,” You grabbed him again excitedly.

“Now what? Oh, I love that guy’s suit…” He peered over your shoulder.

“Rafael will you FOCUS?” You both stopped and stared at each other as soon as the name left your lips.

“...I-I’m sorry, what?” He was turning pale

“Rafael...w-why did I just call you Rafael?”

“....Rafael’s my name,” He stared at you in disbelief. He actually looked shocked that you knew his name. 

“Y/N,” He finally spoke.

“Y/N is my name!!!!” You squealed. “This is happening, this is happening Rafael!!!!” You grabbed him in a hug but he still stood there in a daze.

“Oh god are you fading?” 

“N-No, I just...you have a name,” 

“...I..yeah?” You scrunch your nose. “Did...do...do you not think I’m real?” 

“No!” He shook his head. “I mean I do think you’re real, I just...this...this hasn’t happened before,” He stroked your cheek with his thumb, staring at it while he did it. Like he was memorizing the feeling of his skin on yours.

“I know, this is the most detailed “episode” we’ve ever had,” You pressed his hand harder against your cheek, memorizing the feeling of his hands over yours. 

“Tomorrow,” He stopped stroking your face and looked at you very seriously. 

“What?” 

“I-I feel it, I’m waking up-- damn early court time,” He grumbled. “But tomorrow-- er, today,” He grabbed both of your hands and squeezed them as hard as he could.

“If we are both real, we’ll meet here at this exact spot at 3:30 today, yeah?” You could see his body slowly disintegrating in front of you like Peter Parker at the end of Infinity War.

All you could do was nod as you felt yourself waking up, but you gave everything you had to grab him in one last kiss….

-------------

BEEP BEEP BEEEP!!!!!!

Your alarm was yelling at you, but you were already wide awake. Today was the day. Today at 3:30, in Central Park, you were going to meet your dream man.

If he was real. 

-------

The minutes passed by like hours, he would pick the day you have off so you could just sit there and stare at your phone obsessively all day. Of course after you had taken at least 2 hours to make sure you looked absolutely perfect for your man. 

You wanted to look like his dream girl. 

Finally, it was 3:20. Shiloh had come home early to walk with you to the park, there was no way she was missing this. You wanted enough time to make sure you’d be there exactly at 3:30, not a minute after. You held hands with Shi as you entered the park’s gates and just a few yards away was the fountain area you had been in last night. 

“So...this is it,” Shiloh dropped your hands.

“I know....What time is it?” You shuddered with excitement.

“3:29-- you know maybe he’s not a stickler for time like you and needs to be obsessively early everywhere babe,” 

“He’s a lawyer, they’re usually pretty punctual,” You raised an eyebrow. “Plus, if he’s as excited as I am he will be here on time,” You were bouncing on your heels like a little girl.

“Well, it’s 3:30 now…” You both began to look around the area. You had brought the drawing so Shiloh had an idea of who she was looking for, although she still deemed it impossible without his eyes.

“Y’know he said he had court today, maybe it’s further away from here,” You spoke out loud, still scanning every inch of the park. You didn’t know who you were trying to convince more, Shiloh or yourself.

Every second that passed by, your heart broke into teenier tinier pieces. You felt sick to your stomach, you were shaking-- you needed to sit. 

Shiloh came and joined you on the side of the fountain and held you in her arms as the park suddenly began filling very quickly. There was some sort of event happening soon, and people were getting “good seats”.

“Wh-What? No, no you guys can’t be here!” You frantically began circling people. “How is he supposed to find me if you’re all surrounding this damn fountain? HOW?!”

“Y/N….Honey, chill…” Shiloh tried to pull you away, but you jumped onto the fountain to get away from her as the area continued to fill with people, even police began to survey the area-- they stared at you, whispering things into their walkies. They were going to ask you to get down. They were going to ask you to leave. They were going to make you lose your chance forever--- and you couldn’t have that.

“RAFAEL!!!!!!” You started screaming into the crowd. Several members of the crowd began turning and staring at you as you repeated the name over and over again, walking around on top of the fountain as you did. 

“Are you nuts you’re going to get us arrested!!”  Shiloh hissed, pulling on your arm.

“I don’t care--- RAFAEL!!!!!” You knocked her hand away and started screaming again.

“Ma’am, you’re going to need to come with us,” A Park Ranger started for your hand but you evaded it as you continued circling and screaming like an insane person.

“NO!!! I CAN’T!!!!! HE’LL BE HERE!!!! RAFAEL!!!!!!”

-------

“I mean, are you SURE it was this end of the park, Rafa?” Olivia Benson circled the same spot her and Rafael had been walking around for several minutes now. 

“Yeah, I’m sure! There was a statue--”

“There are a LOT of statues in here, Rafa. Did you see anything else in this ‘dream’?” 

“Look Liv, I appreciate you coming with me even though you don’t believe in this at all, but the snarkiness is not helping,” He folded his arms with a scowl.

“I’m sorry, I’ll--” Olivia was cut off mid-sentence by her walkie going off. “Benson.”

“Yeah hi, this is the CP patrol-- We heard you were around here, and I think we’ve got a-- what do you call it, special victim? This girl’s running around crazy yelling for some dude, I think she might be a few circuits short of a circuit board,” 

“Where are you?”

“The South Entrance by Lootney Fountain,” As those words rang out through her walkie, Rafael’s eyes widened. 

“The fountain…” He muttered, beginning to sprint across the park. “I forgot about the fountain!!!!!!”

-------

The CP Patrol had gotten you off the fountain and were trying to calm you down, but you wouldn’t stop yelling Rafael’s name. Until out of nowhere--

“Y/N???”

You’d know that voice anywhere. You jumped out of the cop’s reach and back onto the fountain where you could see over the crowd. Your eyes frantically searched when you saw a man running towards the fountain; from across the park, and then you saw his face.

It was Rafael.

The second you locked eyes, you both just stopped moving entirely. You were pretty sure you had stopped breathing. You could see everything in those big beautiful green eyes you had the hardest time putting down on paper. You saw the same thoughts running through his head as yours:

He was real. You were real.

“Y/N!!!!!!” He finally yelled, making the crowd turn to face him. He disappeared into the sea of people as you jumped down and began tearing through them like mad. 

“RAFAEL!!!!” You screamed, knocking people over left and right. He was sprinting across the lawn, more desperate to get to you than anything in his entire life.

“Y/N!!!!!!” You heard his voice again, and this time it was so much closer. So crisp and clear, just like it was in your dreams-- But this was real. It was really happening. You gave one last push through a group of stragglers to come upon a man huffing and puffing in a cream colored suit, with a pink tie. But he seemed to lose all signs of fatigue as you hurled yourself into his arms-- his real, open arms. He spun you around and kissed you deeper and harder than he ever had in any of your encounters. 

And it was real.

You felt it even more than the most detailed of dreams, his taste, the feel of his touch, his smell. You stood there locked in a kiss for several seconds, while Olivia waved off the coppers and Shiloh had broken through the crowd to see your very real dream man.

Finally, after convincing yourself to pull away from him, you looked into his eyes. His real, green eyes. You stroked his cheek while he kept the tightest grip around your waist, as if you were going to float away if he let up one second. 

“You’re real,” You blinked back tears.

“So are you,” He held back his own tears, stroking yours away from your cheeks. 

“I love you, Rafael,” You whispered, still scared to death you’d wake up at any moment.

“I love you, YN-- my dream girl,” He smiled back, pulling you into another long kiss.

That night you had normal dreams, which you didn’t mind in the slightest; because you slept in the arms of the man of your dreams.

[plaidconvers]

Saturday Plums- B.Barnes

-Bucky Barnes x gender neutral!reader

Summary: Bucky loves the farmers' market for the plums, but that's not the only reason he goes once a week.

Rating: SFW

Word count: 1.9k

Warnings: None just fluff :)

A/N: this is my first fic and any type of feedback is more than welcomed! All mistakes are my own :) I hope you enjoy

Bucky loved the farmer’s market. He may not have been a fan of the crowds of people milling about, but that didn’t seem to matter when he reached a certain someone’s produce cart. He had been eyeing the vendor for weeks now at the new fruit stand but wasn’t confident enough to act on anything. 

“The usual?” The person behind the stand asked as they started to get a produce bag to fill with bucky’s weekly fruit haul. 

“Extra plums please,” Bucky responded. Today was particularly hot and Bucky’s shirt was already clinging to his back. He squinted up at the sun in thought before the voice of the fruit vendor cut him out of them. 

“Alright, your total today is $20 even,” The vendor said with a smile. Bucky handed them a $20 and grabbed his bag. 

“Have a great day! Thank you!” The vendor handed him his receipt and went off to help another customer. Bucky went to go put the receipt in his pocket but noticed a familiar scribble on the bottom of the paper. 

“You should call sometime :)” read the short note below their number. Bucky’s heart screamed in his chest. This was the opening he was looking for. Bucky finished his rounds at the market and made his way home. 

“Hey” backspace. “Hi, it’s bucky” backspace. “Hello :)” backspace. To say he was struggling was an understatement. He wanted so badly to text them but every fiber in his body screamed to not message them. Bucky typed out one last attempt at a message, went to delete it, but he ended up hitting send instead. 

“It’s bucky from the market :)” read his accidentally sent message. Bucky kicked himself for the way the text sounded. Did he text them too early? Did the text sound friendly? Or was it creepy? Bucky’s racing mind pulled itself out of its spiral at the chime of his phone. 

“Hi!! It’s Y/N from the stand :)” they replied in the same mannerism as Bucky’s previous text. His heart was racing a million miles a minute. His phone chimed again with another message. 

“How do you like this week’s surprise fruit?” they messaged. Every week Y/N would throw in one piece of fruit for free for Bucky to try. If he liked it enough he’d add it to his weekly list of fruit to buy. 

“Haven’t tried it yet, but looks...odd” Bucky gazed over to the table where the fruit bowl sat. On top of the gently stacked fruits was a brown and fuzzy ball that he supposed had to qualify for a fruit. If he had it his way he’d buy nothing but plums and peaches and call it a day. Y/N insisted Bucky needed to try more fruits and thus a friendship was kindled. 

Y/N smiled at their phone. Bucky was a gentle person despite what he had convinced himself of otherwise. They never talked more than 5 minutes when Bucky came to the market on Saturdays. In those weekly 5 minutes, Y/N had learned a bit about Bucky and vise versa. Y/N would be lying if they said they didn’t have a thing Bucky. He always was making jokes and would compliment them under his breath when he thought they weren’t paying attention. 

“Well when you get around to it, slice it open and eat it with a spoon, like an avocado” Y/N explained to Bucky. He would eventually go google a list of fruit names and text each one to Y/N until he got the name of the one he was eating. 

They continued to talk the rest of the week and eventually, it was Saturday again. Bucky made his way around the vendor booths until he ended up at Y/N’s. He gave them a sweet smile that made Y/N’s stomach flutter and heart beat faster in their chest. 

“Usual?” Y/N said with a smile gracing their lips while they grabbed the produce bag from Bucky’s hands. Bucky faltered for a second before nodding his head. Had he always been this breathless around them? Bucky was shaken from his thoughts when Y/N asked him a question. 

“What?” Bucky asked, not catching their question. 

“Any plans for the weekend?” they repeated. Bucky took a second to gather the courage to say his response, “now or never” he thought to himself. 

“If you’d be up for it, I’d actually like to take you out to dinner some time.” Bucky held his breath as the words danced out his mouth ungracefully. His mind swirled with what-ifs and he could feel himself going red in embarrassment. Bucky barely missed Y/N’s soft smile as they replied. 

“I thought you would never ask” All the air trapped inside Buckys lungs left in one graceful breath. 

“When are you free doll?” Bucky was feeling a little more confident in his playboy skills, but he was still rusty as ever. 

“I close the stand around 5, so 7” Y/N replied. Their heart was beating out of their chest in the anticipation of dinner with Bucky. They were already filling their mind with thoughts of that evening when Bucky reeled them back to their fruit stand. 

“So would 8 work for you?” Bucky is practically vibrating in his shoes with anticipation and excitement. Weeks of flirting (okay maybe not flirting but he’s trying) and contemplating had boiled down to this moment. 

“Works for me!” Y/N replied with a smile spreading across her lips. Y/N scribbled their address on his receipt and bid them goodbye as he raced home. 

Contentment. 

That’s what Bucky felt as he waited on his couch watching the clock tick down the time till he could leave to pick up Y/N. Bucky had taken out plenty of people way back when, but things were different now. He was different now. Bucky felt his phone ding with a text. 

“Hey pretty boy, I’m almost done if you wanna head over now?” Bucky blushed at the name Y/n called him. He shot them a quick “on my way” and went to grab his keys and wallet. 

The drive over to Y/N’s apartment was short and before Bucky was done hyping himself up, he was pulling over to park. 

Y/N had been ready since 6:30 and they finally gave into texting Bucky to just come over. They were itching to see him. They just knew he would look stunning. A knock rang through their apartment making them jump up from their spot on the couch. 

Swinging the door open, Y/N was greeted by the dashing image that was Bucky. 

“You ready to go?” Bucky asks them, trying his best to not let his nerves seep into his voice. 

“Ya, I just need to grab my keys and wallet!” Y/N said turning back into their apartment. Bucky peered into their apartment seeing the cozy little place Y/N called home. Books were settled on side tables and on the floor. They liked to read. Bucky noted that for future reference. He was about to make more observations, but Y/Ns voice wafted into his ears, coaxing him back to his spot in from of their door. 

“Just come in I’m gonna be a sec looking for my damn wallet.” They mumbled something after but Bucky didn’t catch it. 

Heart racing, he entered. He closed the door behind him letting out a sigh. His eyes dart around the room taking everything in. Plants were hanging from hooks secured on the ceiling and miscellaneous paintings littered the walls. Y/N’s apartment was a stark contrast to his. A colorful couch was set up against the wall by the front door and an abstract shag carpet was placed under the coffee table. He’d have to furnish his apartment before he ever invited them over if they went past the first date that is. 

“Found it!” Bucky heard Y/N yell happily as they made their back into the living room. Bucky took a second to finally take their appearance in. They looked lovely. Bucky smiled to himself getting lost in the person in front of him. 

“See something you like?” Y/N’s flirty tone danced in Bucky’s head. His ears went red at that comment and his eyes found their way to the floor. Bucky heard them laugh at his embarrassed state. 

“I didn’t mean to embarrass you,” Y/N said, putting a hand on Bucky’s broad shoulder. Bucky brought his gaze from the floor to their eyes, seeing the kindness that danced behind their pupils. 

“We should head out so we don’t miss dinner.” Bucky took their hand in his and smiled at them. 

“Lead the way.” 

Y/N was on their 3rd glass of wine and very very flirty. 

“I think we should cut you off doll,” Bucky said, laughter bubbling into his words as a frown starts to form on Y/N’s lips. 

“You’re probably right,” Y/N said feeling slightly embarrassed at their current state. They pulled out their phone and noticed it was already 11.

Bucky checked his watch and noticed the time as well. They had been done an hour ago with their meal but they just kept talking and relaxed into each other’s presence.

“I didn’t think it was that late,” Bucky said with a chuckle. He’d been so lost in their conversation and Y/N’s presence that time seemed to freeze. 

“I think we should go, I’ve seen the same busboy eye this table at least 5 times in the past 30 seconds,” They said with a laugh, eyes twinkling in the light, not like Bucky noticed or anything. 

The two gathered up their things and Y/N left a tip while taking Bucky’s arm, the wine sneaking up to them. Bucky let out a soft chuckle and adjusted his arm around their shoulders for more support. 

The drive back to Y/N’s apartment was filled with them making comments to make Bucky blush. 

“Okay okay enough, let me help you out of the car.” Bucky laughed as he got out of the car. Tipsy Y/N was definitely fun but good god did they make Bucky crazy. 

The pair walked up the stairs to Y/N’s floor as they fumbled with their keys. They got the door opened and turned to Bucky. 

“Um, Thanks for tonight Bucky,” Y/N said in a soft voice, their nerves finally settling in. They felt their face get hot under Bucky’s soft gaze and wanted to just squirm away. 

“I should be thanking you, this was probably the best date I’d been on since the ’40s,” He said in a light tone, gaze never leaving the features of Y/N’s face. He wished for nothing more than for them to just kiss him. 

As if reading his mind, Y/N reached to cup his face in their soft, warm hands, thumbs brushing over his cheeks. 

“Is this okay,” Y/N said barely above a whisper, ask if speaking louder would shatter the soft moment. 

“Yeah,” Bucky breathed out, leaning in to bring Y/N’s lips to his. The kiss was soft and gentle but oh so passionate. Never wanting the kiss to end but needing air, Y/N was the first to pull away. A content sigh left Y/N’s lips as Bucky rested his forehead against theirs.

“I should probably go inside, it’s late,” Y/N said softly. Bucky didn’t want to let them go but he knew he had to. 

“Okay, text you tomorrow?” Bucky said with a slight hint of worry lacing his words.

“Only if you text me you got home safe,” Y/N said in a playful tone. 

Bucky watched as they retreated into their apartment. There was so going to be a second date.