#I’m in it for the slow burn

[jibberjibbsart]

Some Sidlink prompts that my Instagram followers gave me hehehe

[sarcastic-clapping]

“sad day for devil’s minion enjoyers” girl WHAT? armand turned that old man. he sucked him silly. do you really think nothing else went down or was said in that penthouse? on the unreliable narrator show where they love to breadcrumb pieces until you get the full truth? hello? i’m popping BOTTLES

[nerdyfangirlmel]

I need to remind people who think percabeth is happening to fast that these two idiots have no idea. We know and Grover knows and apparently Luke knows and he ain’t even there. But percabeth does not know.

[pyritefes2]

Here’s an animation meme that was popular on the clock app a couple months ago featuring Anders.

[petrichorium]

Luffy makes u ask for it every time but especially the first time. Btw

[swordsandholly]

Across The Way

Ch. 2: And So It Begins

Retired!Ghoap x fem!plus size!Reader

MDNI

Ao3 | Previous - Next

Word Count: 2.6k

Summary: You go to Scotland with high hopes for your future. After all, you have the bakery you always dreamed of and a whole new life to live. Plus, the men who own the butcher’s shop across the street seem nice.

A/N: I got this out a lot faster than I thought I would. Hopefully my work doesn’t get too insane and I can get the next out in a timely manner - it’s going to be a bigger one!

“You were right.” Simon carefully cuts through the loaf with a serrated knife. He’s never lost his skill with them, despite their uses becoming increasingly more domestic over the years. It’s charming, in a way - the juxtaposition of where they started and where they are now.

“Right about whit?” Johnny asks.

“She is a pretty little thing.”

“Donnae tell me I need tae be worried about ye sneakin’ off at work.” He jokes. Simon would never, of course, but it’s fun to see the way his cheeks heat up at the implication. Without his mask he wears every expression with reckless abandon.

Simon settles his large frame into the seat across from Johnny at the dining table. It’s small, they don’t need much. The chairs always creak under Simon’s weight in an almost threatening fashion. He pushes a plate with two pieces of the bread and some eggs over to Johnny. There’s an odd tug in his chest when he picks up the slice - an urge to be gentle as he spreads butter over it. Gentility is not a compulsion he feels often.

“S’good.” Simon mutters around his bite.

Johnny nods along after taking one himself. There’s love in it - he can tell. A piece carefully crafted with only absolute perfection in mind. How strange that food can carry such a feeling.

“Was a wee bit worried we’d be stuck across from the nicest, worst baker in the world.” He mutters.

Simon huffs out a half laugh.

~~~

Your first week goes by in a blur. For a small town they sure do manage to keep you busy. It’s good, you remind yourself. Better than none. If you keep it up at this rate you’ll be able to hire help by the end of the summer quarter.

By Monday, the first day of your “weekend”, you’re overdone. Head dizzy and body exhausted, you spend the day in bed. It’s a gratifying exhaustion, one you hope to build more of a tolerance for. As of now, though, you elect to remain deeply buried under the covers.

When you wake for a second time the sun is already near setting again. The entirety of Monday slunk by with you in bed. You grumble to yourself angrily like an old man. You wanted to unpack today - to at least get your clothes and kitchen items put away.

“Stupid.” You grouse. At least you still have time to shower, you suppose.

As you stand the world blacks out for a moment, your body swaying in place. You allow yourself to fall back on the bed, sitting while your vision slowly comes back into focus. Blinking away black dots and off squiggles that dance across your eyes. On attempt number two you manage it, making your way to the bathroom.

The work is worth it. The pain is worth it.

This is what you always wanted, after all.

You are happy. You can feel it in your bones. They’re lighter than they used to be - your whole body thrums with excited energy even as you have to lower yourself with the upmost care into the shower seat. Even as you have to scrape one of the cheap fold out chairs you managed to get over to the stove while you cook a late night dinner. Thank god for low counters.

When you were arranging your schedule it took a while to get it perfected. To compensate for your body you have to have time to rest and be able to do a lot of baking preparation before the work week starts. Monday and Tuesday are for rest. Wednesdays are for prep. The shop is closed but you’re in the back working your ass off mixing and kneading and shaping doughs. As well as practicing new recipes you want to add to the store’s line up eventually. Your goal is to sell American biscuits, preferably in batches of six, but those take a lot of work and don’t keep as long. They’ll have to wait until you have hired help.

It’s all chance and whatever you can manage to make happen. You learned to be okay with that, though.

You’ve got plenty of spoons, you tell yourself. Just need to use them wisely.

When you finally close the fridge, now fully stocked with dough ready to proof and bake, you check the clock. It’s still the early afternoon. You finished sooner than you assumed you might. The thought makes you giddy - makes you feel accomplished.

It makes you feel normal.

As you exit into the warm spring sun you take a moment. Ever since you arrived you haven’t been able to just stop. To just take everything in - let the foreign air fill your lungs and the aura of the town sink into your bones.

It’s a lovely little main street that you’re located on. The building to your left is a large family owned pharmacy (very convenient for you) and to your right is an empty brick building. It looks like a former post office, but from what you know the current post office is a few blocks down beside the grocers. It’s quaint, the lot of it.

Your eyes settle on the shop across from yours housed in a simple brick building painted white. The upstairs is an apartment much like yours, you think, but from what you know it currently remains empty. The sign above the door reads A Cut Above the Rest. You wonder if that was Simon or Johnny’s doing.

Would it be weird to go in? You suppose not, after all they came to yours. It’s only fair you give them some patronage as well. Plus you need to ask how the bread was. Hopefully they liked it - you realized halfway through the night that you didn’t even ask if they like sourdough before shoving it into their hands.

That thought kept you up later than you’d like to admit.

You look both ways down the street. This particular spot doesn’t have a crosswalk but the road is so dead even when the downtown is busy you figure it’s worth risking. The lack of danger doesn’t stop you from fast-walking across, though.

The shop’s old-fashioned door bell chimes prettily as you push it open. For a butcher it smells extremely clean - almost clinical. It’s small, with an L shaped display counter and a register at the end nearest the door. Packages of sausage links and the like hang on displays across the back wall. Beside the wooden saloon doors that lead behind the counter is a little dog bed with a very well crafted name plate reading Riley hanging right above it.

So cute.

“Afternoon.” Simon appears from the back, wiping his hands on a rag. You jump a little, so lost in taking in your surroundings you forgot what you came here for.

“H-hi!” You smile. You forgot how intimidating Simon is. His gaze levels you - pins you underneath him like a fly under a swatter. Maybe that’s a bit dramatic. “I thought I’d come check your shop out and ask how the bread was?”

“It was good.” He replies bluntly. Totally monotone. The corners of his eyes crinkle ever so slightly. You decide that’s it’s a smile - whether that’s the reality of his expression or not.

“It’s really nice in here.” You look around. There isn’t much for decoration. The walls are too covered in menus and diagrams of cuts to leave room for anything extra. There’s a shelf of odds and ends opposite the main counter full of high end mustards and condiments. Little things to go with whatever you could think to make out of the varieties of meat they offer.

“Thanks.” Simon nods. “One moment.”

You watch with curiosity and a slight frown as he makes his way into the back. He almost has to duck under the doorway. Old buildings with low ceilings and all that. The place definitely wasn’t made with a six foot plus behemoth in mind. You continue to look around, rocking back and forth on your heels. They have a perfect score on their inspectors plaque. You might not know Simon well, but he seems the type to be absolutely precise about everything. The score doesn’t surprise you.

Yours is almost perfect - some rules are different here than in the US. Next time, you swear you’ll get it top notch! You look across the street at your shop. You wonder if you made the wrong choice with The Honey Bun. It’s bit much now that you see it from afar but it still makes you smile. That’s what matters, you guess.

Simon comes back out with a small, nicely wrapped package. “You don’t ‘ave any dietary restrictions d’you?”

You shake your head and he pushes the package toward you. Your eyes widen - it’s a great cut of high end beef. Like, really good beef as far as you know. Something you’d never be able to afford even if your business wasn’t brand new. You stare between Simon and the little pack in your hands. “Th-this is so nice but I-“

“It’s only fair.” He cuts you off. “Neighbors, yeah?”

You can’t help the grin that splits your face, eyes misting up despite yourself. Kindness has not been a constant in your life - more of a rarity. Something you had to claw and fight to earn. Being given it so freely but such a taciturn man has you reeling just a bit.

“Thank you… I’ve got to head back but, uh, thank you. Really.” You press the small package to your chest. “Tell Johnny I said hi?”

“Course.” He nods.

“Thanks again!” You grin, giving a little two finger salute before practically skipping all the way back into your dingy little apartment. Happily, you pack away the meat to use later. It’s too nice to just make any dish out of - best to save it for a special occasion. Your first gift in your new life. Best to savor it.

~~~

“Afternoon, bonnie.” Johnny appears in your doorway while you sweep up from the Saturday rush, bell chiming upon his entrance. “Hope I’m not a bother.”

“Not at all.” You smile, resting the broom on the counter. “Hello to you as well, Miss Riley.”

She huffs out a quiet bark in reply, sitting dutifully at Johnny’s feet. You don’t have much experience with service dogs - other than the well known rule not to pet them while they’re working. They were always too expensive for you to get and your condition wasn’t labeled serious enough to warrant financial aid. (Despite the fact that you can, and have, passed out and hit your head on something hard.)

“Can I get you something?” You ask.

“Och, I’m a’right. Just wanted tae stop by an’ say hello before headin’ home.” He gives you that dashing, bright grin. “Simon always kicks me out of the shop at close.”

“He doesn’t need help?” You ask. Surely cleaning up a butchers shop is a huge task. You have your work cut out for you with all the flower - you can’t imagine cleaning that amount of blood and mess.

Johnny shrugs. “The cleaning chemicals trigger my migraines.”

You hum. “Well, you’re always welcome to stop by. Actually,” you turn on your heel, “I’ve got somethin’ I’d like you to try, if you want.”

“Never one to say no to food. Especially from a pretty girl.” Johnny says as he follows. He tells Riley to stay in front and she listens - the perfect little lady that she is. You nearly trip at his comment, keeping your back turned so that he hopefully doesn’t see the heat spreading from your face and down your neck.

“I-it’s, uh, you ever had American biscuits?” You ask, praying he doesn’t notice the shake in your voice. You have to get on your tip toes to reach the small basket you made the day prior - carefully lowering it and pulling back the gingham cloth you wrapped them in.

An image of home.

“Aye, had them once on a layover at some chain diner.” He nods. “Donnae think they were fresh, though.”

“Well these are proper biscuits.” You carefully cut one in half with ease. “Sometime I’ll have to make you some gravy to go with.”

“Yer gonnae make us fat, hen.” Johnny chuckles.

“There are worse things to be.” The words come out more defensive than you would have liked. An automatic mechanism - a harshness you've honed over the years.

You hate how easily you wield it, sometimes.

Johnny leans forward over the table, a furrow in his brow. “I dinnae mean-“

“Here.” You cut him off and hold out the biscuit on a napkin, smothered with butter in the middle.

Johnny lets your interruption go. Probably happy for an out. He takes the fluffy baked good slowly, cupping it in his large hand with care. You wonder if he always does that, touches things with such gentle love. Is it learned? Is it just natural to him? Does he touch Simon like that? Gentle caresses?

What’s that like?

Johnny takes a massive, enthusiastic bite. Somehow his blue eyes manage to sparkle even more, grinning as he chews. “Sh’gew!”

You laugh at his attempt to talk around the food. “Glad you like it.”

He swallows roughly. A full body gulp. “Why’d ye start bakin’ anyway?”

“My grandparents raised me.” You fold the biscuits back up in their little basket. “My grandma taught me how. She was the best in town - won the pie contest almost every year.”

“Tha’s lovely.” The smile he gives you is so genuine it makes your chest constrict.

“Mean old bat but she could beat anyone in the kitchen.” You laugh. “We swore she had some kinda magic. Like a green thumb but for cooking.”

“My mum’s like tha’. Can make anythin’ out of nothin’.” He nods along.

You fall into an easy back and forth - never breaching anything deeper than the most surface level of content as he eats. It’s manageable. Johnny doesn’t push and neither do you.

Riley barks from the front of the shop.

“Och, tha’s my queue.” Johnny brushes off his hands and checks the front of his shirt for crumbs. “Take care, aye?”

You smile. “You too.”

~~~

Johnny’s words keep ringing in your ears. You don’t know why. It’s nothing special. There’s no reason to attach to them. You raise a hand to wipe off the fog and stare in the small mirror hung above your bathroom sink.

Pretty girl.

You scoff. You’re not a pretty girl. You’ve never been a pretty girl. Fat girl. Stupid girl. Sick girl. Tired girl. Sad girl.

That last one you’ve heard more than anything else. Out of all the descriptors of you it stands out as the most used. By everyone from teachers to your own family. Always just a sad, sad girl.

You got it from your mom, they’d say. It’s not like you would ever know.

You rip your eyes away from the mirror and try to let the thoughts melt away as you sink into the comfort of your blankets. Those thoughts live back on the other side of the Atlantic. They don’t get to follow you here.

[mod-doodles]

Credits: bIisstina Twitter

Two type A personalities that need to give themselves permission to be loved.

[chialattea]

whenever I feel sad I just sketch these guys to cheer me up,,, have a sketchdump,,,

[long-days-pleasant-nights]

Dr. Gregory House, M.D., is 100% an avid fanfic reader and nothing can change my mind about this

[grayintogreen]

Please don’t mind me thinking about that longing look Angel shot Husk like he really wanted to ask him to sleep with him on the last night of the world and he knew better than to ask. I’ll probably die thinking of that.

[reidsdimples]

When Everything Changed | Part 3

Spencer Reid x BAU!Reader

Enemies to lovers- slow burn/case talk/yapping Spence

Part 2

In which you and Spencer help with a case virtually from his apartment after his hospital stay. 🧸 🖤

You had always thought time to work in mysterious ways. It could heal any wound yet allow it to fester. It could bring people together and rip them apart. Time was an enigma, especially to you. How much time did it take to recover from something like a near death experience?

How much time did it take to recover from trauma without allowing it to cripple?

“Y/N, my office,” Hotch calls out to you.

You’ve been on desk duty for a week, going crazy truthfully.

“Yes?” You ask when you see him.

“Reid is behind discharged today,” he informs you as you sit.

You don’t really know why you had to be called into his office for that information.

“The team is flying out to Atlanta. I’m going to need you and Reid working virtually. Are you able to see him home and work with him from there?” He asks.

“I don’t see why not, is this pertaining to the suspected serial down there?” All you knew was that people in the ghost hunting and supernatural communities were turning up dead.

“Yes, we will brief you via video chat while we’re on the plane,” Hotch nods.

You leave the office toying with a mix of emotions. You were eager to work on an active case, happy that Reid was being discharged, and nervous to see him.

Following that night you read to him, you recalled the quote in question that he had partially written.

One from Pride and Prejudice reading;

“I cannot fix on the hour, or the spot, or the look or the words, which laid the foundation. It is too long ago. I was in the middle before I knew that I had begun.”

You had not mentioned it to him, nor had he said anything to you. When you showed up two days later with a copy of the book to read to him, he got agitated. He asked that you read something else or don’t at all.

It was strange, his behavior was strange. He had been happy to see you yet distant. Then you found that very same page with that portion of the quote crumbled up and thrown on the floor. Why?

You knew what that quote was about, it was about the moment Darcy realized he was developing feelings for Elizabeth despite not realizing it.

Your heart pounds as you think about it. Could he be feeling that way for you? Or you him? You feel your pulse in your throat as you recall the feeling times you stared to long at his waist or his hands. Perhaps listened too hard when he spoke because there was something soothing in his voice even when he was annoyed with you.

Why had that quote come to mind while you were reading to him that first night? And when and why did he trash it?

You were once again back to being irritated by him but not enough to hate him. You were more elated that he was better, that his voice was back, and that he was cleared to go home.

You had a feeling that he insisted on helping with this case. You were fine with that. You could do this, you would just push the strangeness of Jane Austen’s words and Reid away.

So you swallowed those feelings, cleared your throat and stepped into his hospital room for the last time.

“Time to go home,” you announce as you enter.

He was spinning himself around absentmindedly on the doctors chair when he came into view. He smiled, delighted most likely to be going home. He was dressed, freshly, and showered. Save for the incision scars on his throat, he looked like himself. You think the scars somehow make him more sexy but you swat the thought away as soon as it occurs.

“Thank you for coming to get me,” his voice is low and raspy.

You hadn’t heard him talk yet and it took you off guard. Not because he sounded hideous. Quite the opposite, actually. It came off as sultry, like he was half asleep. Shit.

“You’re welcome,” you grin.

You’re standing in the doorway still, aware that you’re not sure what to do with yourself. What was your problem? Damn, it’s just Reid. Annoying old Reid. The same brainiac Reid.

Yet sexier somehow, probably because he almost died taking a bullet in your stead.

You collect all of the discharge information and prescription for his liquid diet formula grossness and before you know it, he’s easing into your passenger seat.

“How long until you can eat proper solid food again?” You ask as you try to fill the calm silence in the car.

“They’re going to reevaluate me in two weeks,” he answers, his voice like sand paper.

“Sorry you probably should talk as little as possible,” you wince because it sounds painful.

“Talking strengthens the vocal cords,” he informs. “I came dangerously close to never being able to speak again. In fact about 73 percent of patients with this type of trauma lose the ability to talk completely.”

You smile to yourself. The way he needs to blurt information is so endearing.

Your phone pings with the BAU group chat:

“Wheels up in 30,” from Hotch.

“Okay we need to get the laptop set up at your place by the time they take off so we can sit in on the case briefing,” you punch the gas to ensure you get there on time.

Reid sits up a little in his seat.

“Are you scared of my driving?” You ask.

“No?” He lies. You narrow your eyes playfully but don’t respond.

You and Reid are patched in with Garcia and the rest of the team just in time. Reid seems slight uncomfortable in the wooden chair with the way he has to hold his neck so you help him with some pillows.

“Cara Lynch, Jane Wilbur, and Mason Riley all found murdered and dismembered in the old mill plant on the east side,” Hotch starts.

“Ten days later, James Marlon and Ryan Finch met the same fate in a separate infamously haunted place,” JJ says.

“Ghost hunting seems to link all of these victims,” Hotch says.

“Were they recording at the time of their deaths?” Reid asks in a gravely voice.

“Tripods recovered, no cameras or audio recording equipment. It seems the unsub took it,” Morgan answers.

“Manner of homicide?” You ask.

“Shot, with arrows in vital organs. Each victim shot twice,” Prentiss says as she flips through the photos.

Both you and Reid seem to wince at the mention of being shot. But neither of you acknowledge it to the other.

More details are shared about the limb removal possibly being a forensic countermeasure before the team starts spitballing profile points.

"The use of arrows by the unsub suggests a need for a sense of precision and control. Arrows are often associated with hunting, so the unsub may view their victims as prey. Additionally, the fact that the victims are ghost hunters could indicate a belief by the unsub that they are somehow deserving of this punishment. It's possible that the unsub sees themselves as some sort of vigilante, targeting those who they believe are meddling in the supernatural realm,” Spencer muses. His speech is slower but the team is patient with him, more in tune with what he has to say than usual.

“I would point of alternatively that the arrows symbolize a form of justice or retribution in the eyes of the unsub. The unsub may believe that the victims, in their pursuit of the supernatural, have disrupted the natural order or crossed a line that they deem unacceptable. By using arrows as a weapon, the unsub may be trying to send a message that their actions have consequences and that they are being punished for their perceived transgressions,” you add. Reid glances over at you but says nothing.

“Given the victomology I can believe that this unsub believes the ghost hunters have crossed some sort of line,” Rossi says. “Maybe he’s religious?” Prentiss asks.

“The-“ Spencer starts but you inadvertently cut him off. He’s unable to speak over you like he used to.

“Sorry,” you squeeze his arm but continue. Just as you start talking, his hand moves to your knee. “In Christianity, arrows can symbolize strength, protection, and divine intervention,” you say. You could continue but pause for Spencer to add his thoughts, your mind glitching at the contact of his hand on your knee. The jeans didn’t seem like enough of a barrier for how heated your skin became.

“The unsub may view their actions as a form of divine justice or punishment for those they believe are engaging in sinful or forbidden practices,” he finishes simply, and removes his hand.

He doesn’t seem upset by you speaking over him which is almost out of character. He wasn’t nearly as aggravated with you anymore. You didn’t know whether to be relieved or concerned in this new attitude… or lack thereof.

The team signs off and you and Spencer are instructed to work on the geographical profile until further notice.

You find yourself absentmindedly inspecting his endless rows of books while he uses his protractor on the map. The geographical profile had been relatively easy to put together since there were only two locations.

The tension and silence stretches out between you, things unsaid. What was that?

You turn your attention back to him when he stands, placing photos on the white board.

“To go searching for ghosts only to become one, kind of ironic right?” You sigh and add to the board with him.

“Unfortunate, but the risk that urban explorers and paranormal investigators put themselves at in these locations is relatively high. It’s why I don’t personally see them as low risk victims,” he says.

“True but they aren’t a high risk, nothing indicating drug use, an inclination towards petty crimes, or sexual deviancy,” you reason.

“Trespassing is a petty crime,” he insists. You narrow your eyes on him as his long fingers press a magnet over a crime scene photo.

“And part of the job,” you retort.

“The same could be argued about shooting a bank teller during a robbery,” he turns to you with his eyes up. “Doesn’t make it any less a crime.”

He’s so close to you that you can feel his breath fanning against your face.

“You-“ you begin, pointing your magnet at him.

“I what?” He taunts you, dares you to finish that sentence. The rasps in his voice goes straight to your head. He outwitted you, you both knew it. He plucks the magnet from your hand and slaps in onto the board.

“I’ve resigned myself not to compete with you anymore,” you smirk and step out of his vicinity which fogged your head.

“Hardly a competition,” he murmurs.

“What is with you?” You whirl on him. “It’s like you don’t know how to act all of the sudden. You want to be an asshole? Fine, I’m used to that. But don’t touch me and then turn on me. It’s confusing,” you explode.

He blinks, stunned by your fury. Then he smirks.

“I get under your skin don’t I?” It’s a cocky rhetorical question.

“Your mood swings do,” you bite out.

“I don’t think that’s it,” he drops into the chair and picks up a pen. “Did you know hatred and desire are two of the most powerful feelings we experience?”

You knew that, of course. Fine line between love and hate and all that.

“As such it’s easy for them to become intertwined,” he whirls the one around his fingers. He clocks you watching the movement, seeming to further prove the point.

“Are you speaking from personal experience? Or just yapping like you always do?” You take a step towards him. He raises his eyebrows.

“Yapping?” He laughs.

“Maybe you should stop talking, your voice is becoming hoarse,” you say indignantly. How dare he insinuate that you hated him and now want him. Neither were true. You think.

“What if I don’t? What if I decide to recite every word of the Lord of the Rings novels to you?” He lifts his chin, his voice teasing.

“You don’t have the gall,” you grumble in annoyance. Mr. Eidetic memory with his very own weapon. You lean place your palms on the back of his wooden chair, briefly glancing at the case file in front of him, hoping he wouldn’t…

"When Mr. Bilbo Baggins of Bag End announced that he would shortly be celebrating his eleventy-first birthday with a party of special magnificence, there was much talk and excitement in Hobbiton…”

“Not another word or something awful might befall you and you may end up in the hospital again,” you flick his ear.

He lulls his head back and dramatically feigns choking to death. Before you know it both of you are laughing.

Somehow your hand ends up resting on his shoulder, causing the laughter to slow until you both were painfully aware of the physical contact.

You clear your throat and gesture at the file.

“What was, um what is her cause of death again?” You already knew but you needed to say something to distract from the sudden shift in energy. “Which organ was pierced…” you clarify.

He glanced back and upward at you, those eyes full of something you’d never seen from him. A sense of uncertainty, vulnerability, and need?

You’re unsure why, as though being controlled by a force outside of yourself but you trail your hand up his neck, gently massaging the back of his head. Goosebumps prickle his neck as he turns his attention back to the table. You don’t miss the white knuckled grip on the pen.

“All of them took an arrow to the heart, that’s a shared trait,” his voice is low, distracted.

“A signature?” You hum and run your fingers through the longer hair at the top of his head. The strands are soft, moving between your fingers gently as you soothingly massage his head.

You hear him groan deep in his chest and he’s inadvertently leaning his head into your touch. You swallow hard, unsure about this sudden need to touch him. More than that, you wanted to hear other noises he could make.

“Second arrows hit various organs between the victims,” he leans forward from your grip to lay the photos out.

The absence of him causes you to frown, but you turn to the white board.

“He’s a skilled marksmen if he could hit them all in the heart in the darker locations where they died,” you state the obvious and write it on the board.

“Military training?” He asks.

“Not with bow and arrows, he may have had personal lessons. Ask Garcia to check with archery ranges inside of the geographical profile,” you say.

He shoots Garcia a text and places his phone down awaiting results.

You’re scribbling on the board when you hear him approach, he’s behind you, so devastatingly close that you can hear him breathing. His body heat warms your back, you falter but keep writing.

Now your body is tingling because he leans his mouth closer to your ear, fanning his breath across your neck.

“You spelled ‘toxophilite’ wrong,” he whispers. You flatten your hand over the word and smudge the blue ink.

“Maybe if you weren’t standing so close,” you hiss.

“Do you want me to move?” He reaches up and sweeps your hair back over your shoulder. You don’t respond, you stop breathing. Stop thinking.

You shudder when his lips find the soft spot of your neck, small kisses planted delicately until your own moan escapes you.

“That pesky line between hatred and desire,” he tutts and steps back.

You bite your tongue, after all you teased him first. The simple touch of his lips on your skin had your body heated up and your insides twisted with need.

You contemplated throwing the marker at his big head as he leaned over the table but refrained.

It was probably for the best because Hotch and Garcia rang in on FaceTime.

Whatever the hell was happening with you and Spence was going to take time. Luckily, the team had given you both the leeway needed to heal. Who knows what’ll happen in the mean time.

[starlightdreaming]

WELCOME TO LULULUNA!! YOUR SECOND HELL OF PAINNN MUAHAHAHA!!,!

Lucifer Morningstar x Reader! Ch. 2!

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel!

Content Warning: MORE ANGST! (Regret, consequences of actions and swearing and stuff idk)

Synopsis: Lucifer loved you but there was something in the way he couldn’t tell you, someone was always watching.

Further note: I WROTE TWO ANGSTS IN ONE DAY AND I PERSONALLY WANNA CRYINGNMUTFU KING EYES OUT SOMEONE GET ME THERAPYPLAES (not proofread BUT ENJOY!!) - ✨Lolo💫

Chapters!: Chapter 1 ✧ Chapter 2 (you are here) •<•)b ✧ Chapter 3 ✧ Chapter 4 ✧ Chapter 5

(NOW THIS CHAPTERS SONG IS:

to further improve reading, I recommend listening! (It helped me write this too))

｡･:*:･ﾟGoodbye Luna･ﾟ:｡*:･｡

The new job you had been assigned by the higher ups was pretty simple, just make stars, bring them to life, give them the ability to help others like the stars helped you in your depression, repeat!

You smiled down the streets of Halo city, seeing all your stars help others and help the community in general, for once, you felt rather proud of yourself, you were always working but that didn’t bother you at all, it helped you ease your mind as you made the little stars, it was your comfort and now its your job, this was a perfect absolute win - win!

After Emily came along into your life, you decided it was time for a change, she was always so bright and comforting, when you told her you were changing your name as a ‘new person’ she fully supported you! She had made sure to always call you your correct name and made sure others did as well, including her sister Sera.

It was such a new feeling.. to feel that you belong, it was heart warming. You don’t think you would change your life for anything else, seeing as Emily and Sera welcomed you like their own sister and there was nothing better than that.

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Lucifer sighed as he sat next to Lilith, crying, Lilith being there to comfort him as he leaned down onto her chest while she pat his head, “I know it hurts, dearest.” She comforts, “But we both know it was for the best, remember that..” She swoons, kissing his head gently, “It’s been so long, Lilith, I really miss her.” Lucifer whimpers before another tear fell from his face, he remembered the hurt in your eyes and that was taking a toll on his soul, “when the day comes, you can tell her everything about it, alright dear?” Lilith smiles gently, cupping his face to look at her, “I know, Lilith, it just… hurts.” he says before wiping his own tears, “But now that its done, I think it’s time we move to our next step..” Lucifer says as he stands up, taking Lilith’s hand into his own.

“Once we find Eve, give her the apple and my Luna will be free.” He smiles, walking toward the oak tree, seeing as how it was put back together with stars only you knew how to make but still definitely showed as damaged, his smile softened, knowing that this meant that he still had a chance to explain everything to you. He leaned against the tree whispering, “I’m sorry, Luna.” before he walked away with Lilith, hand in hand.

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You hummed to yourself, making stars in your office that was completely covered in stardust, you included.

You flew around your office as the stars floated around you, noting down on your white board on how to improve your stars, it was an everyday routine for you but sometimes… when you look out your office window and see all the Heaven born angels outside, you couldn’t help but miss that special somebody you could never see again, you often sat down in your chair, making silly constellations of Lucifer cause of your longing but remember the words he shouted at you would always make the constellation dissipate or shatter. You sighed before deciding maybe it was time for a break, lunch time it is!

You moved some stars out of the way as you tried to get out of your office, upon exiting your office you had to dust yourself off from all the star dust that glittered your clothes and hair, most would fall off but some would still stick to you, it wasn’t that important to clean yourself since you would be covered in the dust once you came back.

Upon flying around Halo City, a few stars had assisted you on serving your meal, taking your orders and working together as they chimed and squeaked as communication, this proving that your stars were successful to the community in Heaven, “thank you my children.” You smiled as your stars chimed at you, going back to work.

After eating, you decided to head back to work, feeling happy and full from your meal, leaving the little cafe, you flew back to your office, you paid no mind as you walked down the halls until you turned around the corner, “What do you mean I can’t see her? She’s my best friend!” A familiar voice shouted to an employee who was at your office door, You saw Lucifer who had completely disheveled hair and looked like he was in a frenzy, “Please, you don’t understand! I need to see her!” he pleaded again, you stared at them both from shock and surprise, your stomach getting a sinking feeling that maybe you should just run. The employee batted an eye at you before looking back at Lucifer, this made Lucifer to turn to your direction, the split second of eye contact he had made with you made you hide completely in the corner of the hall, ‘shit’ you thought as you started running off to who knows where, “Luna? Luna wait!!” Lucifer shouted to you, the name making you feel sick, you haven’t heard anyone call you that in a long time.

You tried to fly home, lock your doors and stay there for months until Lucifer was completely gone, but he caught up to you before you could even finish the thought, He held onto you dearly and tightly, you struggled in his grasp as he teleported you both to the garden of Eden, it was happening so quickly as you both fell to the ground, crashing, he protected you from the fall when you both imoacted into the grass, tumbling and rolling.

He grunted as he rolled into a tree, giving you the chance to kick away and crawl backwards away from him, your heart beating rapidly from the unexplained situation you were in, “What in the heavens is happening? get away from me!” You shouted, picking yourself up as you dusted yourself, stepping away from Lucifer, trying to brush off the dirt that got on your clothing.

Lucifer tried to recover but he seemed to have been hyperventilating to even care, “Listen, Luna-“ he tried to speak, “Don’t call me that!” you hissed, the name making spite fill your eyes, “You lost that ability to do so.” you say as you crossed your arms looking away in irritation, “Please- just- just listen to me,” Lucifer begged, “And why should I? after everything you did? everything you said??” You asked in a much higher tone, “I don’t have much time! please!” He begged, hugging you close in desperation, the hug was so unexpected to you, it felt sick and insulting, you pushed and punched him off you, “You think you can just touch me like you didn’t fuck up my life?!” You say as you recomposed yourself after pushing him away, tears were in his eyes, “I’m in so much trouble! you don’t understand!” he shouted, his voice cracking but that only made you more pissed, you couldn’t help but laugh as you started connecting that dots, “Oh I get it,” You say more irritated when you realized the situation, “You’re in trouble and since Lilith can’t help you, you’re asking ME for help? tch, please.” you rolled your eyes, turning away and waving him off, “That’s- That’s not it!” He cries, trying to hold you, “Luna, you have to listen! I gave an apple to Eve so she could have free will! and since she broke free from control, that means that-“ He tries to explain quickly but the Seraphim’s had arrived to your location, “Lucifer! You are to be silent!” A loud voice echoed, his eyes widening in fear, you turning to see Sera and other angels you weren’t aware of.

Lucifer looked up at the seraphim’s, down to you, then down to the ground with wide eyes full of tears, “I’m too late..” He whispers under his breath, only for you to hear, you turned to him confused as angels that looked similar to him began to hold him down, you stepping back in surprise, ‘what the hell did he do?’ you pondered to yourself, “and you, Y/n, what are you doing here?” Sera asks in her angel form, you crossed your arms looking away from Lucifer, “He dragged me here when I was trying to get to my office.” you explained, walking towards Sera and standing by her side as you watched Lucifer get dragged by a few angels, Lucifer looked at you with apologetic eyes but that only made you advert your gaze, not wanting or bothering to defend him like all the times you had done all the years you had been together, just like how he made you suffer alone, he was getting the same treatment now, karma at its finest.

Lucifer didn’t care what was happening to him, he just wanted to see you again, he wanted to look at you again, he wanted you to look at him, he did that all for you…! but at what cost…? you walked away with Sera, not even giving him a second glance. He looked down, wallowing in his guilt, “please come back to me, my Luna.” he whispered under his breath.

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You went back to your office with Sera, you expected to go back to work and do your usual, “You can’t work today, Y/n.” Sera ordered, “What? Why?” You asked in bewilderment, “Since you were with Lucifer before we could find him, you are now a witness.” Sera stated, you were shocked from this, “What do you mean? What did he do..?” You asked a little afraid to know the answer, Sera took a deep breath, feeling tired from how crazy the day seemed to have been for her, “A few days ago, Lucifer gave Adams’ new wife an apple.” Sera explained, “an apple?” you raised a brow, not understanding why an apple made the subject so serious, “Yes, an apple. It was made from the tree of knowledge, it gave her free will, she broke out of our control,” Sera continues as she paces in your office, pushing away stars that got in her way, “And because of that, evil has found it’s way to Earth.” Sera finishes as she looks down upset. You gasped when she finished, “Lucifer brought evil into creation that we spent so much time and effort into making??” You asked in complete shock, no wonder he came to find you, he wanted to use you as a defense to escape trouble, he was so selfish.

“Yes and now you will have to join us in court, since you were the closest to him.” Sera says as you advert your gaze from her, not feeling proud from the amount of years of your life that felt as they had gone to waste with a stranger far in the past.

“When is it?” You asked, “Since it’s urgent, it’s being held now.” Sera says, “Wait what-“ you say but before you could finish, you were teleported into the court room, you blinked twice before processing your surroundings, Lucifer at a table with Lilith, they both looked nervous, seeing the two of them together put you in a sour mood rather quickly.

“Since the Seraphim is here, I suggest this court meeting begins now,” A voice spoke, you look down at the person seeing a tall male that was quite charming, “Greetings everyone, My name is Azreal,” He said calmly and authoritative, “I am here today for the incident of evil breaching the creations of Earth, caused by; Lucifer Morningstar.” He states out, the public gallery gasping and whispering amongst each other as you looked at Lucifer, you felt worried for him and you hated that, he had betrayed your trust, he turned his back on you and your friendship, so why on Earth are you so worried about him? when Lucifer caught you staring you glared at him before turning away, continuing to listen to Azreal.

“We are gathered here to discuss the punishment Lucifer deserves after destroying the divine creations we had worked hard to make, do we have any ideas?” Azreal asks, waiting for anyone to answer, “Well obviously community service ain’t gonna help.” someone snarked, sarcastically.

“Yeah! all that hard work just for it to go down the drain in a blink of an eye? he deserves the worst of the worst!” A voice shouted angrily, others obliging as well, they began to argue and yell at Lucifer, you, watching as you put up a facade, staring nonchalant at Lucifer and Lilith. Lucifer hid under his hat worriedly as Lilith tried to hold his hand for comfort, you thought for a few moments, thinking about what they deserved.

Sera silenced the court room with a raise of her hand, “he should pay…” you mumbled quietly, only for Sera to catch on, “What was that, Y/n?” Sera asked, leaning down closer to you, “He should pay.. by living in his own mistake.” You say, confusing the higher elder.

when you broke that oak tree, it was the worst mistake of your life, all those memories were shattered into pieces and you tried.. so hard to put it back together, it did in the end but it barely stayed, despite that, you drowned yourself in guilt and sorrow, pain and sadness for months and you think, thats the perfect thing he should suffer from too.

“He should live in his mistake, create a realm of evil that he can drown in, it’s what…” you hesitate, hugging yourself to finish your sentence, “he deserves.” you finish, looking down at him and Lilith, you felt sadness and guilt, hatred and disgust all at the same time, you didn’t know how to react, this whole mess was beginning to give you a headache, he tried to use you to protect himself in all this mess and yet, all you wanted to do was cry and tell the court to forgive him! forgive and forget, but you were so full of hurt you couldn’t do either.

“don’t credit me for the idea, Sera,” you began to feel the tears escape, “please.” you pleaded silently. Sera understood and pat your head gently, “If you could listen, I have an option.” Sera calls, the court listening as you hid from everyone’s view, “We can make Lucifer face the consequences of his actions by making him drown in his own mistakes,” Sera says, trying to go off by your words, “we can create a realm of evil, so only it stays far away from the grasps of Heaven, Lucifer can be sent to the realm, to face the actions he had committed.” She finishes, Lucifer and Lilith’s mouths a gap, looking at Sera in disbelief, the court room began to murmur and whisper amongst themselves in a more calm manner, “That sounds like a fantastic idea!” Azreal smiled, “Very well then, all those in favor, raise your hand,” he says, raising his own as 99.9% of the court raised their hands into the favor, Lucifer looked around, fear rising in him but the sliver of hope was withheld when he saw you staring at him with dull, lifeless sad eyes, he looked at you pleading for help, but in this situation, you can’t.

“Miss Y/n.” Azreal called, “Is there a reason you aren’t raising your hand?” He smiles at you charmingly, you still stared at Lucifer before turning away from his gaze, slowly raising your hand… The small chance of hope burnt out when he saw your arm raised, the pain in his eyes showed, “Luna, please! you have to understand!-“ He begged, trying to go for a last ditch effort. When he called you by that name you glared at him, infuriated that he was desperately trying to get you back only when he needed you most, you leaned over the balcony, tired of his whining and crying for you, of all times he could have asked for forgiveness, he chose the time when he was in deep shit of trouble, “What. in GODS NAME do you want from me?” you sweared beyond the swearing of swears in front of the court, making everyone gasp but you didn’t care.

You flew down to the table he sat at, Azreal moving to the side, interested in the things about to unfold, “Of all the times you could have came to me, to ask for our friendship back, you choose the time you desperately needed to use me,” You snarled, “I’m sick of your shit Lucifer, you never needed me and you made that VERY CLEAR, the moment you told me to step out of your life AND I DID.” you said poking his chest, your angelic form appearing.

“You deserve this and we. both. know. it.” you finished as he looked at you with guilt in his eyes, hurt and regret, “I didn’t ask for things to turn out like this,” He said weakly, you stepped back from him to give him space, “I love you, My Luna.” He confesses in complete heartbreak, his hand to his chest as he cries, Lilith watching as she comforts him, your eyes widen from his statement as the court gasps, “What the fuck are you saying? you love Lilith!” you shouted at him in full confidence, “See? you don’t understand,” He cries, you were puzzled and insulted from his confessions, it put your mind into a frenzy, “Lilith and I were secretive because-“ “I don’t want to hear your sorry, pathetic, excuses!” You shouted at him, your chest huffing from the stress he keeps pressuring you into, “My name is NOT Luna, YOU never loved me, you chose Lilith over me, you chose EVERYTHING ABOUT Lilith over me! you love me? what a fucking joke!” you barked, Lucifer sitting down in his own chair, “I’m going to say it since you can’t seem to understand, if you want me out of your life,” you say pointing to yourself, walking to him, “then I don’t want YOU in my life.” you finish pointing to him, hatred in your eyes as he looked at you with tears falling.

it was silent in the court room, no one dared to speak up from the tension, until Lucifer swallowed before saying one simple word that forever decided what would happen between both you, Lilith and Lucifer, “Please…” he begged one last time, you squint your eyes, understanding that no matter what you say, it will never get through to his head, so you decided to be the final push of this pure broken relationship.

“Azreal, send them away.” You ordered, turning away from them both, standing behind Azreal as he walked up to them, “Guess it’s done and over then, you heard the seraphim.” Azreal smiles, Lucifers eyes widening, “Luna, Luna! please!” Lucifer begged but you ignored his calling as Azreal opened a portal.

Lilith and Lucifer held onto each other as angels forced them to go into the portal, angelic spears making them walk into their own fate, “Going down?” Azreal joked as he made Lucifer trip backwards, falling into the portal with Lilith at his side, his wings holding her up as he held onto the edge of the portal, left hanging with Lilith in his arm. Azreal smiled and waved before standing back.

“Lilith hold on, okay?” He says, looking down at her as she held onto him with his other hand. When he looked back up, his eyes widen when you appear above him, your demeanor was just pure sadness, lifeless and dull and finally for once in years, he sees a smile crack on your face, one of just pure neglect and hurt, he couldn’t look away, although he did this all for you, you would never understand why, this was not the smile he wanted to see on your face, this isn’t what he wanted or what he was trying to do for you, he wanted you to be free… and now that you are, he couldn’t share it with you…

You held his hand gently, slowly sliding it off the edge, taking it into your own, he looked at you desperately, “Just let go, Luci,” you said with a soft voice and a lifeless smile, as you slowly slid his hand off your own, loosening your grip, “Just let me go, Lucifer.” you begged, the tears falling from your eyes and onto his face made him cry as well, “Please.” You say as you let go of him, he only stared at you as he hugged Lilith, protecting her from the long fall he was going to have to endure, despite falling, his hand reached out to you still, his Luna, disappearing before his very eyes…

that’s when he realized…

he will never get the chance to give you a proper goodbye, a proper explanation… a proper confession.

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(sorry if anything is confusing, my brain likes to confuzzle itself so ask me any questions!!!3$3$)

TAGLIST WWEOOEOO:

@ag-cookiebat800 @meow-meowo @kyo-kyo1

[myokk]

“They were once again standing on either side of the elegant stone pensieve, white-knuckled hands gripping its edges as they stared, wide-eyed, at each other. Their faces were so close together that the air Eloise breathed out was inhaled by Sebastian.

They stayed like that for seconds, minutes, hours, unable - unwilling - to break the spell.”

From chapter 11 of my fic 😇

[sumju]

Prologue of «Second Chance» a Sonadow story.

It’s gonna focus mostly on Sonic and Shadow and it takes place right after Sonic adventure 2.

I started working om this in february. I have never made a comic before, so I don’t know how it will turn out. I’ve always wanted to make one so I’ll keep going and we’ll see, since I’m having a lot of fun.

It’s kinda in ‘webtoon style’ so I had to crop a lot them so I could post it here.

You can also read the whole thing on my DeviantArt

Link to Chapter1

[gilmores-glorious-blog]

sometimes i think about how dorian knows about will and probably a large part of why he hasn’t acted on his feelings for orym is because he feels guilty for liking a man who has been married and widowed before. like yes, we have acknowledgment from liam that orym likes dorian but doesn’t think dorian reciprocates those feelings, but it’s so fascinating to think of it from dorian’s perspective—he likes orym but as far as he knows orym is still mourning will and who is he to think he can swoop in and replace him?

[useeer]

loosely inspired by this fanfic because i’m deranged and i want them