#because I've barely touched a canvas this month

[ryuichifoxe]

So, a good friend introduced me to The Northern Passage. I may have repurposed my old Witcher oc and have a soft spot for Lea...

#tnp hunter #the witcher oc's name was nevio #and that's what I've been using #just not sure I'll keep it #anyway hi it's been a minute #burnout and extreme fatigue are whooping my rear end #like I've spent more time asleep than awake #against my will mind you #so January has been a month of forced rest #which was maybe needed #that said this was an excuse to mindlessly paint water and ice #because I've barely touched a canvas this month #ryu art #tnp spoilers #kinda iykyk #blood

[luvfy0dor]

“There Is No Other Love, It's Only Yours ♡⁠˖” BSD Men x GN!Reader ੈ✩‧₊˚

╰┈➤ Dazai Osamu, Chuuya Nakahara, Fyodor Dostoevsky, Nikolai Gogol

Warnings; Maybe ooc, barely proofread

Description; how the bsd men say ‘i love you’ without actually saying it (sigma does actually say it but that's besides the point)

A/n; Next fic post will be a request! Sorry they're taking me so long : ( this is a new style of writing for me and it's really short, but I figured I'd give it a shot. It might be a little whack though because I'm real tired rn I took an hour long nap before writing Sigmas

Dazai says ‘i love you’ best through physical touch and small gestures of the sort, specifically touching your hands. As soon as you're within his reach, your hand is in his and his thumb is rubbing over your knuckles affectionately. His lips brush against your knuckles when he gives excuses to Kunikida on why he can't make it today with your sleepy form right next to him on the bed. He'll press kisses to each knuckle while he listens to the blonde tell him the amount of absences and early leaves he's had in the past month and quietly sigh. He doesn't care where he is either, he's shameless it's his affection and will happily grab you by the waist or hand infront of a crowd. He loves to show you off because you're the best thing to happen to him, but if you're shy he'll tone it down to keep you comfortable.

“Ah! There you are. I've been looking for you. Give me your hand so I don't lose track of you again...ah, you got me! I did just want to hold your hand, but what's the harm?”

Chuuya shows his love through acts of service- I know a lot of people probably would assume gift giving, which he does love to do, but he finds himself commiting acts of service more frequently. Every time he notices you seem tired after work, he'll do the chores that you had accidentally forgotten, even if he's tired. He plans dates for the two of you atleast monthly, always picking a restaurant or activity he heard you mention wanting to try. He does find himself spending money when he sees things that remind him of you, but he thinks spending time with you is even better. If he takes your car somewhere, it's always coming home with a refilled gas tank. If you need to lift something heavy, he offers to use his ability to help you. He'll do your laundry whenever he notices it piling up and bring you coffee, tea, or water in the morning when you're still lingering in bed.

“Mornin' sweetheart, I got you a drink. Be careful not to spill it, s'real dark in here and opening the blinds doesn't help any...we got a date tonight, by the way. You said the new restaurant sounded good so I figured we could go tonight if you're up for it.”

Fyodor spends quality time with you. He likes to keep you nearby when he reads or works, although he prefers when you're on the quieter side during those activities. Otherwise, he's happy to talk with you for however long the two of you are content with. Usually you'll have conversations over a game of chess, which he almost always wins while you're attention is divided between talking and playing, but he's a good sport about it. He'll give you pointers on how to do better in the next game. He'll play his cello for you, too. If he finds your hobbies interesting enough he'll take part in them. If you paint he'd be more than happy to join you, chatting with you while your brushes paint images of scenery and figures on the once blank canvas. He prefers what are considered more sophisticated hobbies, but he'd watch a chick flick with you or let you teach him how to play your favorite video game if it really made you happy.

“If you're as determined to win a game as you say you are, you should probably make an attempt to put more focus into the game. I do love hearing your voice, moya lyubov, but thinking about how you're going to move your pieces and talking are counterproductive. We can try it again, or we could do something else, whatever you'd like, Myshka.”

Nikolai shows you his love primarily through flirty words and loving touches. Whenever he walks next to you, his hand is on either your lower back, hip, or in your hand. When sitting with you, he'll fiddle with your fingers and play with them harmlessly, occasionally fighting off the urge to bend them back far enough to break them. In the same heartbeat, hell bring them to his lips and press kisses to every finger tip while telling you a flirty joke. He often lays his legs across your lap or lets you lay yours over his while you play with his hair. Sometimes he'll walk up behind you and whispers a pick up line in your ear with a large grin on his face. He likes seeing your reaction and watching you squirm in embarrassment in his grasp.

“You must be an artist, my dove, because you are so good at drawing me in! Hey- you can't go anywhere just because you thought my joke was cheesy! I can find some wine to go with it if you'd like, hehe.”

Sigma shows his love through the way he trusts you. Obviously with everything he's gone through trusting people became really difficult for him, but you came along and earned that trust when you proved that you were a permanent factor in his life and wouldn't betray him. He trusted you enough to let you into the Aerial Casino and stay with him regularly in his quarters. He let his walls down around you and opened up about his origin story. He would let you get physically close to him and touch him, coming to love the feeling of your lips against his, pressed in a sweet kiss. Though he still kept his independence and a desire to not depend solely on you in fear of betrayal, you could tell that he had come a long way from the man he once was after his experiences in the DOA.

“I felt so foolish after I fell for Fyodors tricks again, but dealing with the distrust and suspicion I held towards everyone else was just as hard as the realization of messing up again...thank you for listening to me, you've helped me so much. I don't think I could ever repay you enough...I love you.”

A/n; AHHHHHHHH I'm so tired but fuck it we ball I gotta write chisme for Spanish and it's going no where I lied to my teacher and told her it was almost done it is not almost done I have barely met any of the requirements for it but I won't do it if I don't post something so

#bungo stray dogs #bsd #bungou stray dogs #bsd x reader #bsd fanfic #bsd headcanons #fanfic #fanfiction #bsd fyodor #fyodor x reader #fyodor bsd #bungou stray dogs fyodor #fyodor x y/n #nikolai bsd #bungou stray dogs nikolai #nikolai x reader #nikolai gogol x reader #sigma x reader #bungo stray dogs sigma #sigma bungou stray dogs #bsd sigma #bsd dazai #bungou stray dogs dazai #dazai #osamu dazai x reader #dazai x reader #bungo stray dogs chuuya #chuuya x reader #bsd chuuya #bungou stray dogs chuuya

[doumadono]

Emergency Request.

Hi author, i finally have the courage to share this. These past few years, I've been dealing with academic pressure, means im expected to be in the Honor's list. Every single morning i get yelled at especially when i didn't wake up early (my class starts at 12 noon till 6:30 in the evening) im really tired and yesterday morning, my mom threw a chair at my room because i wake up late. My heart was really really heavy that time and so i decided that i had enough. So while my mom was taking a bath, i stole money from her wallet, just wiped my body with wipes and got dressed. She thought that I'll be heading to school early so she didn't mind. When i left my home i got to my phone and searched 'psychologists near me'. It took me 3 hours to find a clinic that was open for people who didn't have appointments. Fast forward, hours later i arrived at the clinic and got consulted by a psychologist. Before the psychologist ask me what's wrong, believe me or not i already cried hard, cried and cried and told him all the unspoken pain i kept for years. To sum it up, they called my parents and consulted them too. I was a minor that time and it was already late so they really had to call my parents.

I only went to this route since i had no one to talk and cry on. With that being said, can i request todoroki comforting someone? Maybe the reader had the same situation as me but had no one to turn to except todoroki?

(This happened last year when i was at the 11th Grade. I finished my medications months ago and feeling more happy :))))

Embrace of warmth and chill - Shoto x Reader

A/N: it takes incredible strength to open up about such struggles, and I commend you for taking that courageous step. Remember that seeking help is a sign of resilience, not weakness. I'm glad you reached out to a psychologist, and I hope the support you receive brings you the understanding and guidance you deserve

EMERGENCY REQS MASTERLIST

In the quiet sanctuary of his room, Todoroki Shoto sat on the bed, contemplating the gentle dance of shadows on the walls. The soft glow of his desk lamp provided a muted atmosphere, and his mind lingered on the words he had just heard. The door creaked open, and there you stood, a silhouette worn down by the weight of unspoken pain.

His heterochromatic eyes caught the glimpse of your eyes, mirroring a storm of emotions. Without a word, he gestured for you to sit beside him. The silence lingered for a moment, heavy with the unspoken burden you carried. Finally, you broke the quietude, your voice barely above a whisper as you began to share the weight you had been carrying.

Todoroki listened intently, his expression a canvas of empathy and understanding. The warmth of his presence enveloped you, providing a sanctuary in the storm that raged within. As you recounted the struggles, the academic pressures, and the desperation that led you to this very room, he remained a steadfast anchor.

"I… I just needed someone to hear me out," you admitted, your voice cracking with vulnerability. "It's so, oh so hard, Shoto…"

He nodded, a silent acknowledgment of the pain you had endured alone. "I understand," Todoroki responded, his words carrying a genuine sincerity that reached the depths of your weary soul.

A subtle touch of his hand on your shoulder offered comfort, a silent reassurance that you were not alone in this moment. "Sometimes, it's okay to let others share the burden," he said, his voice a soothing balm to your wounded spirit.

In the quiet of that room, Todoroki found the right words, a delicate balance of empathy and strength. "I may not fully understand what you've been through, but I'm here for you, always," he affirmed, his stoic demeanor softened by the genuine concern etched across his features.

As the weight of your confessions lifted, tears streamed down your face, an emotional release long overdue. Todoroki handed you a tissue. "It's alright to cry. It doesn't make you weak," he reassured, his eyes reflecting a depth of understanding that transcended mere sympathy as he rubbed your shoulders.

Through the tears and the shared vulnerabilities, a connection blossomed. Todoroki, often reserved, found himself opening up in return. He spoke of his own struggles, the internal battles that defined his journey. The vulnerability he shared created a bridge, a connection that went beyond words.

"You don't have to steal moments of solace. There are people who care about you, who want to help you carry the load. And I'm among them."

The air in Todoroki's room seemed to shimmer with a subtle blend of warmth and chill as you found yourself wrapped in his embrace. As his arms enveloped you, you couldn't help but marvel at the duality of his touch. One side of him radiated a soothing coolness, while the other emanated a gentle warmth. It was a sensation that defied logic, a tangible representation of the conflicting elements within him.

You nestled into the crook of his embrace, your head finding a comfortable spot against his chest. The coolness seeped through your clothes, sending a refreshing wave across your body. Simultaneously, the warmth from his other side cocooned you in a comforting embrace, creating a delicate equilibrium.

His breath, a gentle rhythm, whispered against your hair, and you closed your eyes, savoring the unique symphony of sensations.

Todoroki's grip tightened ever so slightly, as if he sought solace in the physical connection just as much as you did. His usually reserved demeanor melted away in this shared moment, replaced by a silent understanding that transcended words. "It's okay. I promise that brighter days lay ahead."

#emergency request #bnha x reader #mha hcs #shoto fluff #shoto todoroki x reader #shoto todoroki x you #mha x reader #mha fluff #todoroki shoto x reader #shoto todoroki #shoto fic #shoto x reader #todoroki shoto #shoto x you #shoto x y/n #mha fic #bnha fluff

[unholybinchicken]

(technically Thursday because of the time zone)

I did this a few weeks ago but haven't really done it lately so thought I'd do it today. I've got so many WIPs tbh so it's hard to pick just one (also I made a nice little cover art thingy for it on canva so gonna do this more regularly)

Tagging: @unholy-fabray, @yeasymuffin, @dedenneblogs, @lansangprincess, @blossoms-and-possums and anyone else who wants to share their WIPs.

General premise: this is a snippet from the Harper McLean character study I'm working on (Harmerie endgame of course). It was a hard choice between that, more of chapter 3 of i'm open to falling from grace and chapter 6 of stranded on the line where i lost you. This is a (mostly) canon-compliant fic and the part I've written so far contains references to ice addiction, alcohol and intravenous drug use.

Sneak preview under the cut

21st November, 2007

Harper McLean is born at 10:30pm in the back of her mum’s older sister Michelle’s old Holden Commodore, in the waning hours of a neighbourhood get-together.  There’s still a dent on the car from New Years 2000, when her dad ‘borrowed’ it and accidentally hit a tree.  It’s unregistered, unroadworthy, the paint is peeling in places, and someone put a Kevin-07 sticker on it a few weeks ago without asking, but Justin McLean and Nicole Webster didn’t really plan to have the baby today of all days.  

Michelle and Nicole are the only sober people at this party, and Michelle’s the only one with a car, albeit one that shouldn’t touch a road, ever.  

None of them realised that there was going to be a baby to plan for at all until a couple months ago.  

Had they known, Nicole would have probably tried to give up partying, booze and smoking much, much earlier.  Her first thought as she’s going into labour in the back of Michelle’s car is how much she really, really wants a fucking cigarette right now.  

Or something stronger.

After all, if Justin can be high out of his mind for the birth of his first child, why can’t Nicole?

Against her own wishes, she resists temptation and stays sober.  Someone has to.  Michelle puts on the radio as the baby girl makes her grand entrance.  The speakers are muffled, and the signal is fuzzy, but she can faintly make out ‘Rehab’ by Amy Winehouse.  

Michelle, seeing how exhausted her sister is, asks Justin to cut the cord before they go to the hospital together.  Justin is ranting about ghosts and home invaders and John Howard and God knows what else.  His voice grows louder and louder and more and more agitated.  As her eyes meet the familiar scar on Justin’s arm, his favourite injection site, Michelle wonders if he even realises he has a child now.  

She cuts the cord with a set of nail clippers from her handbag and briefly considers letting Justin hold the baby, his daughter, but he can barely stand, and his words come out slurred and disconnected.  

Truthfully, she’s not sure if she should let this man within ten metres of her newborn niece.  She’s not sure what possessed her sister to sleep with him in the first place.

Probably the same thing that’s coursing through his veins right now, she thinks. 

Nicole was always an avid reader, at least before she hit puberty and she started hanging out with the local dropkicks and doing drugs, all while things turned to shit at home.  Mum died, then Dad succumbed to his own substance abuse problems and went to jail, and so Michelle and Nicole were passed around from relative to relative until they settled with Nanna Louise.  It was the closest thing either of them had to a stable home, but they soon learned that nothing lasts forever.  Nanna Louise died, and things went from bad to worse.  Knowing that going to school wouldn’t pay the bills, Michelle dropped out to become a florist.  Nicole was different; there was a time when she wanted to go to uni and become a teacher.  She wanted to travel the world and marry a handsome man, have a nice house, two kids, a dog and a white picket fence.  But that was then, and this is now.

She, like her sister, dropped out of school in year ten.  She’s unemployed.  There’s no dog, no white picket fence.  The only income she has comes from Centrelink, and, more often than not, it’s used to fund Justin’s drug habit.  Her life didn’t exactly turn out like she pictured it.

Well, almost.  She has her daughter, who’s tiny, but who has her mother’s eyes and nose.  They get to the hospital, and as the nurses clean the new baby up and keep an eye on the new mother, Michelle goes outside to smoke a cigarette.

When Nicole eventually comes to, Michelle asks, “What are you going to call her?”

“I was going to name her after Nanna Louise,” Nicole says, frowning.  “She doesn’t really look like a Louise, though.”

Michelle contemplates asking if Justin has any ideas, but she knows he’s not sober enough to contribute anything productive to the conversation.  “No, she doesn’t,” she agrees.  “She looks like you.”

“You think so?”

“Yeah.  She’s got your nose,” Michelle says.  “And your eyes, I think.”

Nicole smiles.  She looks at her sleeping infant and says, “Harper.  Harper Louise McLean.”

#wip wednesday #my writing #unholybinchicken #ao3 #harper mclean #justin mclean #heartbreak high

[seasteading]

ARENT YOU TIRED OF BEING NICE? DONT U JUST WANNA GO APE SHIT? ↳ A CHARACTER STUDY

if it seems like i haven't touched my main wip in 2 months, that's because i haven't 😋

instead, anyone unfortunate enough to have spoken more than a sentence to me will have realized that i've spent that time in baldurs gate 3 hell, with nothing but durge brainrot to show for it—brainrot i will now inflict on main with some selected excerpts <3

transcripts under cut:

She does not remember many fairytales, but she thinks this one starts the same way as all the rest: a princess to flee a castle, a handsome knight to save her from the shadows that haunt the woods. The princess does not have a name beyond her title. The knight is called Griseis. She speaks it aloud. There is no tugging at her memory, no rush of truth. Yet it is the name of a creature with the purpose to vanquish, same as her, and all those with a purpose must have a name.  “My name is Griseis,” she tries. It holds no magic, but she likes the way it rests upon her tongue, like it could belong there. She slips the waterlogged fairytale into her pack.

Yet beneath the drone of busywork, the urges remain. They bid her to tear the legs off a rabbit caught in the brambles that surround the garden, and Atonement endures. A stained glass window shatters, and they bid her to pick a shard off the floor and cut through Novice Clements’ fragile throat. Atonement endures. They infect her dreams. Behind her eyelids flicker visions of a temple in ruins, of Ilmater’s statue bathed in the blood of his faithful, so she works more, sleeps less.

And he laughs at her. Brings his uninjured hand to her jaw and pushes his thumb under her upper lip, using her own slack shock to pry her mouth open. Finger pressed against a sharp canine, “Look at you. Bhaal’s Chosen, the purest of his spawn, baring your teeth like a damn dog.” She doesn’t have to think about it. Put your hand by a dog’s mouth, and expect to get bitten. She bites.

But the painter who’d put her features to canvas saw something else, too. Maybe the taint in her blood had made it into the pigments. Maybe it’d been Bhaal himself guiding their hand, ensuring proper justice be given to his spawn’s visage. Griseis looks, and the Dread Lord’s Chosen looks right back.

#violence tw #THE BRAINROT HAS BEEN SO BAD U DON'T UNDERSTAND #anyway. for context griseis is a tief oath of vengeance paladin who was briefly an oath of devotion paladin with the virtue name atonement #and who was an oathbreaker in between . obviously . out here collecting paladin subclasses like pokemon #she is also extremely attack dog coded #third excerpt is gortash btw #i was considering a different excerpt with him but the girlies on discord deemed it too disgusting so yall get this one instead #no taglist for this thing for obvious reasons also i prommy this is the only fanficposting ur gonna get from me #w.mine #bg3.griseis

[bullet-prooflove]

What I've Been Working On This Week: 9/12/23

King: Angel Reyes x Reader (NSFW) - Angel's queen needs a king. (Filthy Fic of the Month on Patreon)

Excerpt:

“Does mi reina need her king?”

“Please.” You say again and he kisses you, his hand tangling in your hair as his tongue delves deep into your mouth. You can taste yourself on his lips and it’s such a sensual feeling, sharing yourself with your lover.

He undresses for you, his eyes locked on yours as he removes his clothes until he’s entirely bare for you, his cock hard and already leaking.

Goodbye - Juan 'Juice' Ortiz x Reader - You call Juice at one in the morning from a roadside motel. (Part of the Canvas Series)

Excerpt:

It’s one in the morning when you call Juice from a payphone outside of the roadside motel. It’s the first place you’ve stopped since you hit the road almost four hours ago. The sheets are clean and the doors double locks, it’s all you can ask for tonight.

“Are you safe?” Is the first question he asks when he picks up the phone.

He’s wide awake, you knew he would be. You can’t imagine what he must have thought when he got home tonight and found your stuff gone. You envision him tangled up amongst the sheets and it just kills you deep inside because you wish you were there with him.

“Yea.” You say, swallowing hard against the ache in your chest. “I’m in a place near Carson City.”

Love Letter: Juan 'Juice' Ortiz x Reader - Juice recieves a letter from you but refuses to read it. (Part of the Canvas Series)

Excerpt:

By the time your letter arrives in the mail Juice has already gone completely off the rails. He spends his nights partying, drinking himself into oblivion and taking a concoction of drugs that even Tig wouldn’t have touched during his wild years.

When he’s not at the clubhouse getting fucked, he’s doing his own fucking back at Diosa. He’s slept with countless women over the past couple of months and none of them get the memory of you out of his head. It's not your absence that kills him, although that’s part of it. It’s the guilt.

#angel reyes #angel reyes x reader #angel reyes x you #juice #juice ortiz #juice x reader #juice soa #juice ortiz x reader #juice ortiz x you #juan juice ortiz

[sealacrossthesea]

🦭🦭🦭MUTUAL CATCH UP🦭🦭🦭

i was tagged by @bearsgrove hi!

LAST SONG: Death by Cellar Darling

CURRENTLY WATCHING: i'm not really into shows, i have terrible problems with attention and memory, it takes me months to years to finish a single season and by then i forget what happened at all

THREE SHIPS: uhhhh Ever Given, SSV Normandy, The Ebon Hawk (serious answer - i don't care about shipping all that much, sorry)

FAVORITE COLOR: indigo blue and moss green, sorry, can't decide between these two

CURRENTLY CONSUMING: i mean, i just consumed a cup of tea? i really don't like thinking of like playing games or reading as "consuming" something, and considering my memory problems, it doesn't end up consumed at all! barely touched. but anyway, right now i'm fighting for my life replaying kotor and i'm veeeeery slowly reading asoiaf books because they're the only ones i can process rn. don't care about the show, but the books are okay

FIRST SHIP: Uluburun shipwreck, according to Wikipedia. (serious answer though - Beleg/Turin, and in my defense i was 13 and extremely into silm which hasn't changed, i just grew indifferent towards shipping)

PLACE OF BIRTH: in the mountains somewhere in eastern europe

CURRENT LOCATION: in the west of eastern europe

RELATIONSHIP STATUS: haven't met the person who would be into my "haunted by demons" aesthetic

LAST MOVIE: Re-Animator. aside from one of the worst cpr scenes i've seen, it was a fun movie and made me almost laugh a few times. i love the squelchy practical effects

CURRENTLY WORKING ON: mostly on my original story, and since i have a new easel, i started sketching ideas for a new painting because i still have my oils and a blank canvas somewhere

i tag ummmm anyone who sees this and wants to do it? consider being tagged by me

#rho.odt #tag game #about #i guess ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ #thanks for the tag!

[tuefort-teamfort]

Till Death Do Us Part (Medic x gn! reader)

I've chosen to go with Mick for Sniper and Josef for Medic because I honestly really like those two names for them. And this is set during Expiration Date.

Also sorry this is a bit long, I had what I thought was a good idea and ran with it.

thank you @pope-neuro this was incredibly fun to write and a welcome exercise to get me out of my writer's block

masterlist

.....................................

"Thanks, again, Mick." You shouted over the wind, head turned to ensure your words carried over your shoulder to the Sniper sitting behind you.

"Ta," the man in question started, poking your side to get your focus back on the road, "told ya' don't mention it." He paused as you steered your motorcycle around a convoy of sedans all peddling along at an agonizing pace. Once the two of you were leading the pack, he resumed. "Jus' don't understand why he believed that Pauling was sending the two of us on a mission." He laughed and you had to agree with him. It'd been a pretty hasty lie and one Josef could've seen through on any other day. Although you and the Sniper were close, you're chosen professions didn't lend themselves to each other super well meaning the two of you rarely got sent on duo missions.

"Me neither, 'spose I got lucky he was so distracted. Him and Engie were running a buncha experiments when we left." You revved the engine, encouraging the bike to pick up speed till you were flying down the road towards the base. You'd outrun the cops that liked to set up a speed trap here before, wouldn't be hard to do it again. "Papers still secure?"

"Still here, love. Don' worry." Sniper assured, his laugh traveling through his arms to your torso.

A relieved sigh slipped from you. The exit to the base was in sight now, the canvas barely rusted by the warm desert breeze. The reason for your little secret mission? A marriage license. You'd been planning this op since Josef first entertained the idea of getting married nearing six months ago but in that time there'd been problem after problem getting the two of you down to a courthouse. So, you'd taken matters into your own hands now.

After bribing more people than you'd like to admit you'd managed to swing it that you and Josef could just sign the papers, have a small ceremony with two witnesses, and you'd be legally married. You didn't even need an officiant (though Dell had joked about doing so previously). Despite it not being anywhere close to the "wedding of your dreams", it'd be enough. And it worked out better in the long run considering both yours and Dr. Ludwig's rather dubious reputations.

At least you'd gotten Josef an actual wedding ring. Now all that was left was to pop both the question and your surprise on him.

A hard right turn brought the two of you through the canvas and the base loomed ahead.

You brought the bike to a stop in the garage and waited for Sniper to hop off before doing so yourself. Or...well...that's what you were pretending to do. In reality, it seemed like the second your foot met the floor all of the butterflies that'd been nowhere to be found were now swarming you. Your heart beat had sped up so suddenly you were partially convinced you'd just been ubered but the accompanying feeling of invincibility was nowhere to be found.

A touch to your shoulder sent you jerking off of the bike and onto the ground. One hand reached for the pistol strapped to your thigh while the other held you up.

"Oi, easy, mate. 'Sjust me. Jus' me." Sniper soothed from the other side of the bike, a hand outstretched in placation. "Easy now, take a breath."

You did as he told, breathing in through your nose out the mouth as you calmed and took your helmet off. "Sorry, sorry..." you apologized between breaths. "Don't know what came over m-"

"There you two are!" A very sudden, very loud new voice broke through the panicked haze that had settled between you and the Sniper. In the doorway stood the very man you'd worked yourself into a tizzy over. And before you could really register that you were still sitting on the floor, Josef had stridden over to you and pulled you to your feet into an crushing hug. "I have been looking for you for the past hour, liebling." He sounded...almost panicked which wasn't entirely abnormal for the man in general but definitely struck you as odd.

"Darling, I told you me and Mick had a mission." You tried to remind him, wriggling in his too tight hold enough to look up at him. "Did something happen?" You tacked on, noticing for the first time the absolutely harried look about him. The Medic's hair was in disarray, it looked like he'd been running his hands through it in a poor attempt to calm himself down, his eyes were a little bloodshot, and there was a small frown tugging his whole demeanor down.

"Ja, yes." He nodded hard enough to make his glasses slide down his nose. "It is best if you and Herr Mundy come with me." As Josef tugged you out of the garage to, presumably, his lab you managed to catch Mick's eye to see the same startled expression on your face mimicked on his.

...............

You sat two hours later at the poker table in the rec room staring in what could only be described as abject horror at the giant timer on your wrist. 69:51:34 and counting down. Three days to live and it felt like you'd just wasted the last nine minutes in Spy's impromptu meeting. He'd dismissed all of you when Jeremy's antics had derailed his rather touching plan to at least listen to everyone's dying wish. You kind of wished now you'd put a card in.

There was a presence at your shoulder that warned you someone was about to talk to you. "Staring won't make time stop moving, mate." Mick's voice was low and soothing. "Quit stalling and go get your man."

"I...is he even going to want to get married now? I mean...three days, Mick. Not even. We'd be married for less than three fucking days!" You exclaimed, tone shifting rapidly from subdued to near manic in a matter of seconds.

Your sudden outburst drew the attention of Spy who had been lingering in the corner while he puffed on a cig. "I'm assuming we are referring to the Medic. From what I understand of him, he would be more than happy to spend his last hours married to a person like you."

Despite his wording, you detected the sincerity in his voice and it assuaged your fear at least a bit. Enough for you to heave a hearty sigh as if expelling your anxiety. "I'm assuming you mean that as a compliment." Bracing yourself for a moment, you took a few calming breaths. "Alright," you stood," where are the papers?"

"Righ' here." Mick answered without missing a beat, handing you the manila folder that protected your precious future. "Gotta pen handy too for ya."

"Please," Spy scoffed, stepping away from the wall, "at least use a nice pen for your literal marriage." He offered a rather luxurious looking fountain pen in place of the common ball point one Sniper had.

"Thanks..." you answered slowly as you took the pen. "Why are you helping?" It was a little rude but the question had already left your lips as you led the two men towards Ludwig's lab.

Spy scoffed, "Consider it my good deed for you before I die."

Snorting, you pocketed the pen as you checked for the box containing Josef's ring, "Consider all grudges and debts forgiven on my part then. I'd ask you to sign as a witness too but I'm guessing you'll still want your identity intact after death?"

The Frenchman looked to be considering for a moment before offering a hearty nod that pulled a derisive snort from the Sniper. Which quickly turned to a mock argument you tuned out in favor of knocking on the door to the lab.

"Herein." Came the shout of the Medic and the unmistakable descending whirl of a teleporter slowing down. With a deep breath and a glance over your shoulder at Mick who offered you an encouraging nod you opened the door and headed in. "Ah, Schatz, Herr Mundy, willkommen." Ludwig called as the two of you (Spy was lingering outside) descended the few stairs. "Did you come to help?"

Glancing away from the doctor, your eyes met Dell's briefly (or, rather, his goggles) before you flicked your attention to the teleporter and small mountain of tumor ridden bread in front of Ludwig. "Not...not exactly, darling." You avoided his gaze when Josef turned to look at you. "Dell, do you mind if I borrow him for a moment?"

"Go right ahead." The Texan waved you off.

It was now or never.

Motioning for the doctor to step closer, you waited till he was within arms' reach to take his hands in yours. "I'll admit this is not how I planned for this to happen...not even close, to be honest. You see, I was planning to steal you away from everyone for a nice night in. I'd cook you dinner, we'd watch a movie, maybe dance, and then I'd ask but..." you paused, huffing just slightly in apathetic amusement, "circumstances being what they are that's gone out the window. But my affections remain the same." looking into his eyes you could see the realization dawn on him. You got on one knee and took the box out of your pocket, "Dr. Josef Ludwig," and opened it to show the polished gold band, "will you marry me?"

The man let out a startled gasp that ended in a high yelp. "Mein Gott! Schatz, meine Taube, ja, ja of course!" He lapsed into a series of high, nearly deranged, breathless laughs as you slipped his glove off and the ring onto his finger. All the while a smile that mirrored his began to grow on your face.

Pulling his hand from you, he tested the weight of the band -curling and flexing his fingers experimentally while the other, his right hand gripped both of yours in a tight grasp. Until, returning his gaze to you, he brought his ring-adorned hand to your cheek and bowed his head till it bumped against your own. “Oh, Täubchen…meine perfekte Täubchen. Danke..." Josef hummed, his eyes sliding closed momentarily. "I do wish you'd asked much earlier...I can't give you a ceremony now."

Taking a steadying breath, you let your face relax as your hands gripped tighter to his. "I've already thought about that and, if you're willing, although there's no ceremony for it we can get married right now."

His eyes flicked open. "Was? Wie?"

At that, a small grin spread over your face as you signaled to Mick for him to step closer. He did so, gaining the Medic's attention as well, as he handed the manila folder to the other man followed shortly by the fountain pen. "I pulled a few strings. So long as we have witnesses, we can technically get married. Mundy's already agreed to be one." You looked away from Josef over his shoulder to Dell who had watched the whole exchange with a sappy smile on his face. "If you'd also be willing, Dell?"

With his helmet removed, you were awarded a clear view of the engineer's eyebrows as they shot up his forehead in surprise. "Of course, hell, I believe I offered to officiate!"

"Really?" Josef asked, spinning on his heel enough to look over his shoulder without letting go of you. "Oh, danke mein freund!" He whipped his head back to you both hands now holding yours as he waited with barely restrained eagerness for Dell to make his way closer.

"Um," the engineer began when he reached you, "do you Dr. Josef Ludwig take them," Dell gestured to you as he said your full name, "to be your lawfully wedded spouse?"

Ludwig's grip on your hands tightened almost painfully. You could feel the gold band on his finger digging into your skin. "Ja, I do." He grinned, showing off a wide smile that crinkled his eyes.

You grinned back, unable to keep your composure as Dell turned to you next. "And do you," once again he repeated your name, "take Dr. Josef Ludwig to be your lawfully wedded husband?"

"I do." You watched as Josef's grin grew impossibly wider.

"Then by the power vested in my by the state of New Mexico, I now pronounce you married in the eyes of the law." Dell smiled at the two of you. "You may kiss."

Before you even had a chance to lean in, Josef had pulled you to him. One hand shot to the back of your neck while the other took your waist. He turned you to the side in a slight dip before he slid his mouth over yours.

This kiss, though not all that different from the others you had shared with Josef, seemed to spark new life in you. It felt like you were breathing for the first time - it created a feeling so visceral and all-consuming that you knew you could never again live without it.

With your hands wound around his neck, you pulled him closer and let reality fall away. You weren't in Teufort, you weren't in New Mexico, you weren't even on the Earth any more. You were just in your new husband's arms.

You only pulled away when the synchronized watch attached to your wrist let out a little beep to remind you that another hour had passed. It was a sobering sound and one that clearly had yanked Josef back to reality too. His smile, though still brilliant, had a somber hint at the corners.

You pecked his lips and turned back to the other men still in the room who had cheered as you and Josef indulged in each other. Mick, already catching on, was rifling through the folder and laying out everything that needed to be signed before handing the pen to you.

Josef's grip on your waist tightened as you jotted down your name on the license. And then he signed his.

"Danke, meine taube," Ludwig's voice was low in your ear, his lips to its shell. "I love you."

#tf2 medic #tf2 medic x reader #medic x reader #tf2 #dr ludwig

[herbeloveve]

what's a scene you're really proud of

ooh this depends on the story so I will go through each one I've done!!

EVE - chapter 3

This is one where several months after it was posted, I received a really nice compliment about the imagery! A friend messaged me and told me that they were 'trying to find the sandra movie about mirrors' but it turned out to be my fic that they were thinking of. And that just meant the absolute world to me to know that I wrote something that felt so real to someone.

I feel like I capture Eve really well in a canonical sense here - EVE is all about exploring Eve Polastri's past and what makes her tick, what breaks her, and why she is the way she is.

Turpentine & Honey - chapter 3

I shall post a snippet here;

It took her three days to bounce back from rejection. During those 72 hours, she spent her time learning everything there is to know about Ms Eve Polastri. Villanelle learnt that, in the last twenty years, there was not a single work of Eve’s that didn’t include the colour red. Every single published sketch and final piece was dripping in crimson, ruby, scarlet, merlot, blood. Some more than others, though all had the substance. It was all she could wish for. Villanelle’s favourites were the ones in which the blood-like substance encased the whole canvas. She looked at those and saw herself in the lines, fingerprints, hands gripping and squeezing tightly before bursting blood vessels. The art took her, used her, left her drowning- she almost felt greedy needing more. Almost. Villanelle imagined herself as the paintings. She wanted to feel how Eve felt when she took the brushes, mixed the oils with turpentine, sweetened it with honey to create increasingly bitter works of art. An invisible force was touching her- Villanelle could feel the streaks of paint against her back, thighs and throat. Her breasts were covered with imaginary hands, pinching, caressing, mauling her into submission. For Eve, she would- like she had any choice at all. She recognised the faceless portraits to be representative of who Eve is. The drips of thick red were what her life was like; her struggles, her genotype, her heart. It was all right here for Villanelle’s pleasure. She could take it and study the material, memorising it all ready for a test.  What on earth must Eve’s insides look like, if this is what happens when she bares them on a canvas so often.

Cupid & Psyche series

perhaps you would fear me, perhaps adore me Eve is rough around the edges, always has been. She is abrasive in her actions, sarcastic in the way she speaks. Her ability to mask and blend into a crowd, all the while sticking out like a red, sore, throbbing limb, was deceiving. Passionate desire encapsulates her spirit- she wreaks havoc in everything she touches.  Reading off script, leading the knowing astray and compelling a grudge are three of Eve’s biggest talents- something the people around her found out all too slowly. Villanelle, however, saw Eve for who she was the moment she was kissed for the first time. The fantastically beautiful Psyche woke up in Paris with stitches and a heart beating only for Cupid. 

Eros is close to death If we were made to bleed, couldn’t we bleed for each other? It is so lovely to feel her wet and open around a metal-shaped kiss. Lapping her up, tasting and swallowing her. With milk-white skin and blonde hair, Villanelle finds beauty in herself. Her added scars, given with love, accentuates her body for her Cupid. 

after the sweet

I wrote this one for my butch so it's one that I hold close to me. They're an incredible writer themselves and all I wanted was for them to read it and love it (spoiler: they did). The whole Cupid & Psyche series is one that I love so so much as it allows me to explore a genre of writing that I feel isn't appreciated or represented much within fic writing, and because of that I feel a great deal of freedom when creating these.

#my writing #anon #thank you for asking this (: #it was nice to go back through my fics and pick out different lines and such #also made me realise that i Miss actually writing on a consistent basis

[fluffleforce-mysdrym]

ive been thinking abt becoming an anthropology professor (admittedly not quite the same as a math teacher haha) so do you mind if your comfortable with it telling us what its like? you dont have to but i think itd be cool

I'm happy to share what I can!

Under the cut because I'm gonna ramble a bit, hope you don't mind.

What I'm doing now is long term subbing, which means I fill in until an actual teacher can be found to teach the class. This means I could be the teacher for a week or the whole year (it never goes the whole year).

I've been substitute teaching for almost a decade now and have done long term jobs for 2 separate almost full semesters for biomedical technology, health science I honors, and health team relations. I've also long term subbed for month+ stretches for drafting I and drafting II, and filled in as an EC math co-op teacher, which meant I went to other classrooms and assisted the main teacher with making sure the students understood the material.

Let me start by saying short term subbing can be really fun, if the teachers actually leave assignments that you can lead the class in. It's a fun way to brush up on subjects you may not have touched in years or to just see how kids react to getting to write their own poem or make their own sculpture.

Long term subbing is a different breed because you usually make your own lesson plans and (obviously) you deal with the same kids.

This time around, as I've said, I'm a main math teacher, so I have my own room and I won't be traveling. It's fun because this is the earliest I've ever been pulled in to fill a vacancy--the time before being one of the health science I/health team relations semesters, where I got three days to turn the storage room into a presentable classroom that could actually fit students in it. And I managed beautifully, though I did tweak my back in the process.

There's a lot of little things that go into prepping before the students even get there.

One thing that will vary from place to place is how long you have to set up your classroom. This time, I have 2 weeks to figure out what sort of posters and decorations I want for my room and get it set up as well as procure any necessary equipment and figure out my syllabus and all that--because as the acting teacher, I get to make the syllabus myself.

This year is a little different from years prior because there's not a lot of left over stuff from the last teacher for me to use to decorate the room, so I'm trying to figure out how to make the room look less dull because it's not really fun to come into a room that's all stale, bare walls.

One thing I want to do is try to make math feel a little less like some boring thing that has to be learned for no apparent reason, so I'm gonna be looking up articles about real world applications of math to share with the kids as well as offer them extra credit if they find and bring in their own. I'm thinking it can be like math success stories and mishaps. I dunno fully yet, but I'm gonna do a wall where we can put up the stories and they can look at them in their free time.

As far as actually teaching, two of the other math teachers are already offering to help share pacing guides and let me see their canvas classrooms so that I can make my own stuff for my classes and keep the class moving fast enough to cover everything we need to.

One thing I've always been pretty lucky with (minus the drafting classes), is having another teacher in the field I'm working in who I can ask questions of and get advice from. Most teachers, I've found, are happy to help one another, so if you do decide to go into teaching, don't be afraid to go to your peers for help when you're starting out.

If nothing else, the director of your department can point you in the direction of resources for your class. There is a LOT of stuff out there. There are teachers all over who will post fun games they've come up with or lesson plans that really worked with kids that you can use, sometimes you just have to look for them a little.

In the past, I've done planning two different ways. One was sort of figuring it out per Unit with biomedical technology. Like, I'd talk with my supervisor about the notes and activities I was going to pair with them a unit at a time, so I'd have 2-3 weeks planned at once. The other way was submitting weekly lesson plans.

Once I get a chance to sit down and look at the pacing for the classes I'm teaching, I'll be able to figure out how fast/slow I can go with teaching stuff and leeway days for going back if people don't understand stuff. I would like to do Fridays as a sort of catch up/review day, but I dunno if that'll be feasible.

There's a lot of planning that goes into all of it, like figuring out if certain activities will work with a group and stuff like that. And some of it comes down to the kids themselves. Like, sometimes you'll see that it's just--for whatever reason--not really a focus day and it's better to go lighter on material then and pick back up the next day.

Figuring out what makes kids enjoy the subject is some of the most fun you can have while teaching. During biomedical technology, we would do things like finger printing, where you press your fingerprint in ink and then to a balloon and then blow the balloon up really big and look at the different patterns everyone has. In drafting, I let kids design their own super villain lairs. I'm still trying to figure out how to make math fun because this is my first time actually planning the math lessons, but we'll see. I usually do review games with candy or tangerine prizes.

A big thing about teaching that I've noticed is that students are waaaaaay more likely to engage and enjoy the class if you're enjoying and excited about it. Like, if you can actually say, "No wait, this is cool and this is why."

Not every kid will appreciate that, but it does make a difference to a lot of them.

I got on a side tangent about leprosy studies in one class, and I actually had a kid come up and tell me that they thought it was cool, too. I got to tell a second grader about bee-purple and his mind was completely blown and it was one of the most memorable moments I've had. Like, he was looking around the cafeteria asking me if bee-purple was there and I was like, "I don't know, I can't see it either. It could be!" and he was just thrilled that there was this whole world around us we can't see.

I always try to find the positive in what students do, too. For some kids, all they hear is how they've screwed up X, Y, or Z, so it's so important to not add to that.

I try to be lenient with grading, too. Like, I used to have a scale, where you'd get points off for late work, but I don't think I ever had students who didn't turn anything in. Because I would keep a spreadsheet of assignments and I would remind them they needed to get it done and turn it in and all that. They might end up with 10-20 points off, but they still did very well.

And the only reason I did that scale is because I didn't have access to put grades in directly, so I had to have all the assignments a couple days before they were generally due for each quarter so that I could get them graded and then send the grades to the person who would put them in. And because it was such a clusterfuck with getting the grades in the system, it was damn near impossible to go back to a previous quarter to get in grades that were skipped. I was always really clear with the kids about that, too, so that they understood why I worked the way I did.

The only 0s I have ever had to put in were because of blatant cheating, and that's only happened a handful of times, so I'd say my methods worked pretty well.

Also, rules in general work a lot better if you can explain why they matter. That's a big lesson I've learned.

Now, it depends on the subject whether there are more or fewer students who don't really care. I'm a little antsy about teaching math because I know it's widely disliked and so that will make it harder for people to concentrate to begin with, but hopefully I can figure out like at least one or two more enjoyable things to do per week to make it less bleh numbers.

I think if you go into anthropology, that'll be one of the subjects where people are there because they're interested and that'll make teaching it easier in some ways because they'll already be receptive to the information.

What else can I say?

It's a lot of work. I'm a little worried this year because it sounds like they don't plan on giving me a planning period, and instead having me cover other classes during my planning, which means I'll have to grade assignments and stuff at home, which I am nowhere near paid to do as a sub.

But. I'm gonna be able to put grades directly into the system this year so that's exciting. I won't have to go through others for that. I'm even getting an official school email address. Which is great because I don't need to accidentally bring up my regular email and have kids see my ao3 updates and stuff. I do not want them finding my ao3 account lol

So I hope this made some sort of sense and wasn't too boring. If you have any questions, I'm happy to answer them, if I can.

Best of luck with whatever you do, be it become a professor or something else!

#thank you for the ask #i got a little off topic i think #but not too bad

[toomanyfandoms02]

Kisses // Matthew Gray Gubler x Reader

This is a request for both @boiled-onionrings and @aberrant-annie ! I ADORED writing this!!!

Summary - Reader is an artist with serious art block. So she decides to kiss her best friend all over and turn it into art.

Word Count - 2.2k

This is based off of THIS gif from @nationgubler

I loved being an artist, but with any career in the arts, there is a time where you have some kind of block.

And I was having artist block, right now.

I sat in my studio, my back laying against the floor of the cold tile. As if the ceiling was going to spark some kind of Vincent Van Gogh idea in my head. I lightly brought my hand to my face, slapping my forehead.

"Come on y/n! There's something in there, anything, anything!" My head lolled to the side in frustration, eyes closed. I let out a loud groan of frustration, very grateful in this moment for choosing the most soundproof room of my apartment to do art. This was out of courtesy of my very kind neighbors. I opened my eyes slowly, hoping that something would come soon so I wasn't so damn angry. That's when I saw it.

The book Matthew had gotten me for my birthday a few months ago, sitting right next to my painting of lips, one of my best selling prints.

"Hmmm." I sat up slowly, contemplating if I should even ask this favor of him, but Matthew really cared about my career. Maybe I was in luck, so I dialed his phone number. He answered within 2 rings.

"Hey y/n, what's up?" He sounded out of breath, making his voice slightly raspy. This caused my heart to beat a bit faster.

"Uh, I have a favor to ask you, are you okay? You sound out of breath." I could hear him huff another deep breath.

"Yeah! I'm on a run in the park right now."

"Oh! Well don't worry about it then, I can save this-"

"No no! What do you need, I'm on my way home." This was honestly the most nerve-wracking thing ever, asking my best friend And someone I'm slowly falling for to do a kind of scandalous pose for a painting for me.

"It's kind of, weird. It involves art. I can't come up with any ideas and this one came into my head, you can totally say no, I won't-"

"Honey, good lord, I'm not gonna judge you, just tell me." He laughed in the end, easing my stress only slightly at the sound of it.

"Alright, it would be a portrait of you from waist up, but, also, I would, ugh. I feel weird about it!" I paused momentarily, sighing into the phone and making a pouty face that he *thankfully* couldn't see. "Then I would put kisses all over you, to like, I don't know."

"Spice it up?"

"Yes."

"I'll be over soon, I'm gonna take a shower. See you soon sunshine!" And that was it. Nearly no hesitation and he agreed to it.

*Why did I worry so much?*

Probably because you like him so much, *dumbass*.

I tidied up my studio as a distraction, waiting for a knock at my door. My wooden easel clicked on the floor as I set it near the big window in the room. I set a stool in front of it for Matthew, facing him towards it for good natural lighting. I plopped a 24x16 canvas onto the easel. My heart nearly jumped from my chest as I heard the knock at my door. I almost slipped running to it.

I opened the door to see a smiling Matthew. He was leaning against my door frame dressed in a white button-down and some regular jeans.

"I don't see you wearing any lipstick, how are you gonna manage putting kisses all over me without it?" He teased with a smirk.

This man really knew how to make my heart stop, it was almost insane how much of an effect he had on me. But I was surprisingly good at hiding it.

"I haven't put it on yet you nerd." I hit his chest lightly, moving out of the doorway so he could come in. "You can still back out if you feel weird about this. And also, this is gonna take a while." I looked up at him nervously. He grabbed my shoulders, looking right into my eyes.

"I love helping you with art, stop thinking you're such a burden." He shook me a little, bringing another smile to my face.

"Fine, go sit on the stool back there and unbutton your shirt a few buttons," I ordered him as if I had any confidence when it came to him. I walked to the bathroom adjacent to my studio, grabbing my red lipstick and applying it in the mirror.

"I love the color!" Matthew shouted from the doorway of the bathroom, almost causing me to drag the makeup across my face. I pulled it away from my lips slowly, looking over at the idiot who was constantly scaring me. I gave him the death stare. He quickly brought his hands into a surrender position and backed from the room and into the studio. But not without giving me a wicked smile. I rolled my eyes and followed him.

"Sit!" I shooed him onto the stool I set up for him.

"Yes ma'am!" He saluted, sitting gracefully onto the wobbly seat.

"You promise this won't be too weird?" I asked a final time, a very *very* small part of me hoping that he would think it was too weird so I didn't have to torture myself even more with this horrible crush of mine. He just stared at me with one eyebrow raised, as to silently say.

*Do I really have to assure you again that I don't care?*

"Alright! Let go then." Another wave of anxiety shot through me as I leaned down to his level. My hands parted his hair to where I wanted it. I then kissed my thumb to make sure the lipstick was still wet enough to transfer, and sure enough, the red pigment was smudged onto the finger. Here we go.

I grabbed his face with both hands and brought my lips to his left cheek, leaving a kiss slightly above his cheekbone. I then left another kiss lower on the same cheek. On his right cheek, I put one right in the middle and one more near his chin.

I backed away from his face, pulling the lipstick from my pocket to reapply it. I watched his eyes as I put it on, seeing something I'd never seen in his eyes before.

"You okay Gubler?" I giggled a little, recapping the tube, I smacked my lips, ensuring that I got it everywhere. He blinked several times before shaking his head a little bit.

"Yeah! Uh, yes. Just zoned out." He nodded curtly, now venturing his eyes out the window.

"Okay weirdo." I chuckled. "I'm gonna kiss your chest now." I chuckled again, much more nervous than the previous one. He simply nodded and looked down at me with a small grin.

I got on my knees and opened his shirt a bit. Hopefully, he couldn't feel how much my hands were shaking, because let me tell you, I was *trembling*. I placed my hands on his shoulders and placed a kiss on the side of his neck first. I watched as Matthew sucked his lips into his mouth slowly tilting his head back. His hand was brought to his face and he left it there for a moment. I raised an eyebrow at him but quickly shrugged it off, I wasn't going to let this lipstick dry again.

I leaned down further, kissing his collar bone and then a final one near the center of his chest. At this point, Matthew was looking down at me again. He let off a loud breath and ran his tongue over his lips.

I stood up dusting my legs off, Matthew's eyes following me.

"Are you seriously okay? You're acting kind of funny." I came close to him, putting my hand on his shoulder. He looked like a puppy dog looking up at me from the stool.

"I've got a small headache I think." It was a quick answer that seemed like a lie.

"We can stop-"

"No!" I jumped back from him, startled. "No, it's seriously fine. I'm just gonna get ibuprofen from your cabinets." He stood so quickly and turned toward the door.

"I can get that for you!"

"No it's fine I got it." His voice was farther now, almost completely in the bathroom. Even from this far his voice sounded strangled.

*Was this weirding him out? It really seems like it was.*

I gathered my colors from my oil paint box and brought them to the small table next to my easel.

Just a few minutes later Matthew emerged from the bathroom, looking like he felt better.

"Looks like the ibuprofen is working fast." I narrowed my eyes at him.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" He snickered, sitting on his stool with a suspiciously large smile. I just shook my head a walked up to pose him. I turned his shoulders slightly toward the window, opening the shirt to see the kisses. I frazzled his hair a little to give it a bedhead look and once I was happy with everything, I went back to my seat.

"Just look wherever is comfortable. I'm giving you free will on that." Of course, he chooses to look directly at me.

"You sure you wanna look at me during this whole process?" I joked, starting with some skin-colored paint on the canvas.

"Well yeah, you're the most interesting thing in the room." I could feel the tips of my ears burn at the comment, not bothering to hide the smile that formed on the face.

"Well, thank you." I kept my eyes on the canvas, partly because I was painting, and partly because I thought that if I looked in his eyes I might melt into a puddle.

-

I was finally done with the base of everything. I pretty much had an outline with the correct colors.

"Okay, I'm taking a break. Do you want to snack with me?" I stretched my legs as I stood from my chair, my arms flailing high in the air.

"Yeah, what are you getting?" His hands rubbed together like a mischievous fly.

"I made chocolate chip cookies last night. I'm gonna heat them up so they are melty." I excitedly padded my bare feet to the kitchen. I slipped 3 cookies onto a plate and placed them in the microwave for 20 seconds. My back leaned on the counter as Matthew peered over me at my cookies.

"Someones excited about cookies." I laughed, grabbing them for the microwave and setting them on the counter, eating half of it in one bite.

"And you say *I'm* excited." He replied with a mouthful, clearly poking at the way I ate the cookie.

"You just ate yours in one bite!" I shot back.

"Whatever." He grabbed another, eating that one whole as well, as melted chocolate, slipped down his chin. He raised his hand to wipe it off and I was not quick enough to stop him.

"I'll just touch it up when we go back." He looked at his hand that was a mixture of brown and red and made a pouty face at me. "It's fine, here." I handed him a rag to wipe his hands and we went back into the studio.

On the walk back I was already reapplying my lipstick so I could fix the smudge on his face. I slipped into the bathroom quickly, grabbing my makeup wipes to fix the smudge as well. He sat in the stool once again.

Much less nervous this time, I grabbed his face the same way I did before and kissed over the same spot, making it darker and more defined again. As I was about to pull away from his face, Matthew's hands grabbed my wrists, stopping me from leaning away.

"What are you doing?" My heart hammered against my ribs, and at this moment I was hoping he couldn't hear it.

"Do you think there's anything else that needs to be fixed up?" His voice came out in a whisper, I could feel it against my face. "Do you think my *lips* should be red too?"

*Was he saying what I think he was saying?*

Apparently he was, because we both leaned in with closed eyes, connecting our lips. He pulled me into his lap on the stool, grabbing the back of my neck to deepen the kiss. I was sure that I was getting lipstick on much more than his lips at this point.

After quite the makeout sesh, we pulled away, both panting.

"What was that for?" My brain was in a complete haze. I realized I was still on his lap and began standing up, only to be pulled back down by his hands.

"I decided to finally make a move." He chuckled, leaning his forehead on mine.

"You mean, you like me?"

"No, I make out with everyone, all the time." He deadpanned. I giggled, running my thumb across his lips and showing his all the red that had transferred.

"Totally worth it." He smirked, kissing the tip of my nose sweetly.

*I'm not gonna get anything done with this man around.*

#mgg #criminal minds #spencer reid #dr spencer reid #MGG #mgg fanfiction #mgg x reader #mgg fic #mgg imagine #mgg gifs #matthew gray gubler x reader #matthew gray gubler #matthewgraygubler

[fleckcmscott]

To Have and To Hold

Summary: Y/N makes an oversight at work. The resulting extra hours with Arthur delight them both.

Warnings: Swearing, Smut

Words: 4,272

A/N: This story had been kicking around in my head for about two months, but I hadn’t been sure if I was going to write it. Then I read @sweet-nothings04‘s amazing Hand-in-Hand (which you all need to check out, if you haven’t), and knew I had to put it on paper. Thanks to her for the inspiration to finally develop this, and for the title, too!

If you have any thoughts or questions, please comment, feel free to message me, or send me an ask. Requests for Arthur and WWH are open! 

Perhaps it was the sunshine that stirred her. Or the horns of traffic on congested streets. The hammering of a distant construction site. The chatter and occasional yelling of passersby.  The hum of Gotham awakening.

Y/N blinked in confusion - how could it be so bright this early? - and squinted at the clock at Arthur's side of the bed. No numbers greeted her, just its blank, plastic display. Stretching, she reached to her left for her watch, in its spot by the beige rotary phone on the nightstand.

"Shit!"

Nearly knocking over her glass of water, she clambered off the mattress. Arthur had warned her the lights could go off in his apartment. Not often and not for long. But enough to annoy. Naturally, his building's shoddy electricity had to mess with the alarm today. When she'd stayed up too late. When he'd had to leave ahead of her to commute to the other end of the city for a rare winter gig. When her body had chosen to oversleep in the coziness of his blankets.

Her nylons had never been yanked on with such haste. Arthur had made coffee but she skipped it in favor of brushing her teeth. Pausing on her way out, she took a calcium supplement and grabbed a note from the counter. She read it while riding the wood-paneled, graffiti covered elevator: "Your presentashin will be great. You snored a lot. Good thing your cute. - Arthur." He always signed his name. As though she wouldn't recognize his scrawl. As if anyone else wrote her sweet, sassy missives. She grinned until she hopped on the for-once punctual subway.

The presentation he'd referred to was set for that afternoon. She was expected to discuss the evidence and court file for this week's contested hearing. Last night, she'd sat at Arthur's breakfast bar to compile the case's final details and finish prep sheets. Gently, she'd rebuffed his subtle advances. His attempts to draw her attention from work to him.

Excitement had been palpable as he'd hovered near her. She was fairly certain she knew the cause because it enthused her as well. In three and a half short weeks, he'd be moving in with her. They'd officially begin traversing whatever the future held for them together. Hesitation had been clear in his posture, his drawn shoulders when (after plenty of convincing on her part that yes, she really, really, wanted him) he'd finally accepted the key to her place. But since he'd added it to his own keyring, he'd brightened. Strode a little taller. Walked a little prouder. Touched a little bolder. As though the weight he carried had lessened, at least by a couple cinder blocks' worth.

At his slight pout, she'd decided to find a way to involve him. He'd perched on the stool next to her, rested his cigarette in the pink ashtray to the left, and taken the proffered exhibit stickers with a quirked brow. Y/N had handed him papers, which he'd added labels to for her to write on. Then she'd stacked them in four different piles according to type. It had taken longer than usual - she was faster alone. But the intimacy of sharing the professional elements of her life with Arthur (besides the office wear he liked, claiming it showed how "smart" and "pretty" she was) had tightened her chest. And the curved-up corner of his thin lips had reflected how pleased he was, too.

They hadn't been able to collaborate on everything, however. It was past midnight by the time she'd joined Arthur, who had retreated to the bedroom an hour or so earlier. He'd been sitting against the headboard, half under the cover. The harsh blue light emanating from the old black and white TV at the foot of the bed had sharpened his features. Deepened the set of his eyes. He'd stubbed out his smoke as she closed the door. "I taped The Honeymoon Game. We can watch it when you're here again." A beat. "If you're not busy."

"This is supposed to be my last big project for a month or so." Sighing, she'd gotten her nightgown from her overnight bag. "I didn't mean for it to take all evening." She climbed in next to him and threw her arm across his lap. "I'm sorry."

He'd been stiff. Unyielding. The telltale signs he was miffed or upset. But he'd twined her hair around his finger, let his touch fall to her brow bone. "It's okay," he'd said lowly, adjusting to lie alongside her. "I don't want to be... I'm not being fair."

"You don't have to pretend with me, Arthur. It's all right to be annoyed." Tiredness had pulled at her as she'd fought to watch the rest of Gotham Tomorrow Tonight. The contact of his socked toes to her bare ones had made her smile, though, and she'd nuzzled his bicep. "I missed you," she'd mumbled, then promptly passed out.

The squeal of wheels on metal tracks prompted her to sling her canvas tote onto her shoulder. Shaw & Associates was a short sprint from the nearest station. She was certain she looked ridiculous, running down the street in her high heels. But she managed to slip into the office with two minutes to spare. Once she poured herself a cup of joe and straightened her blazer, she settled in her cushioned chair to get started.

It was only when Matt told her he wanted to meet before lunch that she'd rummaged in her bag. And realized she'd neglected to bring the file. Recalled it was sitting on Arthur's kitchen counter.

Fuck.

Her nails tapped the wood surface of her desk. Excusing herself to the bathroom so she could go retrieve it wouldn't fly. Matt would send a search party. She could try to discuss everything from memory, tell him documents were still being gathered. But he wasn't that oblivious. She settled on owning her error. "It's at home." Her delivery was nonchalant.

He waited until she'd loaded her typewriter with paper, then responded wryly. "You're not supposed to take files home anymore. Remember what happened last time?"

She leaned back as he stepped in front of her. "There was the slew of family cases that came in. With Patricia on leave, I'm handling all our calls and mail. Not to mention paperwork on her filings. It wouldn't have gotten finished if I hadn't taken it." Snorting, she shook her head at herself. Heat bloomed in her neck. "Not that it matters when I don't have it."

Expression softening, Matt stuck his hands in his pockets and jutted his chin at her. "How long did you work on it?"

It was hard to discern if he actually cared about the hours she put in. Or if he merely wanted to gauge the possibility of her doing investigations off the books again, something he'd explicitly prohibited. "I don't know." She waved dismissively. "Three or four hours?"

He let out a huff. "You put in enough time already. Go home at noon. We'll get to it first thing tomorrow."

"I have a lot to do." Her eyes widened at the myriad piles of folders laying around. "And I can't imagine you playing operator."

"I've managed when you've both been in court or at appointments. Besides," he continued as he headed back to his office. "You never take days off."

Straightening, she wheeled her chair to watch him plop down on his leather seat. "I'm taking three days next month," she countered.

His glare contained an unequal mix of mirth and consternation. "Y/N?"

The phone started ringing. She succeeded in making one ear ignore it. "Yes?"

"I know you haven't forgiven me for that whole Renew Corp. thing." She flinched at the casual mention of the company she loathed. Of her failure. But she forced herself to listen. Matt picked up a pen and started writing. “Rather than being stubborn, try saying, 'You're right.'"

~~~~~

Y/N stood in front of the narrow, white stove, stirring the soup she'd thrown together using bouillon, carrots, onions, and pasta. Ingredients she'd found in Arthur's kitchen. Music poured, at a respectable volume, from the radio on the windowsill. Swaying out-of-time, she added a sprinkling of black pepper, one of the only three spices he had (along with powdered garlic and salt). Wearing a content smirk, she sampled the steaming broth.

When she'd left the office, she'd been frustrated at herself. Yes, she was human. Everyone made mistakes. But she wasn't the forgetful type. Particularly if someone was depending on her. However, as she'd stopped in Burnley for another change of clothes, hopped on the train to Otisburg, and pictured Arthur's reaction to finding her in his home instead of having to call to wish her sweet dreams, her disposition had improved. Not only would he have her for an extra night. He'd get a late lunch, too.

The click of the deadbolt and clank of his keys on the entrance table came the second she turned off the stove. She listened to his heavy exhale as his bag dropped to the floor and shut the door. In her peripheral vision he froze, then approached tentatively. She reveled in his delicate hold on the dip of her waist, the peck he planted on her cheek. The smell of greasepaint wafted to her nose. "I hoped I hadn't made this up," he sighed with what sounded like relief. "But your meeting."

She angled herself towards him, gaze roving over his red and blue plaid blazer. The painted-on smile. His irresistible brown curls, mostly flattened by the wig he'd worn. Fidgeting with the petals of the squirting flower on his lapel, she scrunched up her face. "This morning went to shit." She explained the power outage, the clock, her own stupidity at leaving the file in his apartment. "I've packed it. Don't worry."

His posture grew pensive. "Sorry. Maybe- Maybe we should have stayed at your place. Your building's better."

Him thinking her error was somehow his fault had to be nipped in the bud. "No," she said. "You asked to make more memories here before we move in together. I'm happy to do that."

He paused, long enough she could have sworn she'd heard the gears in his head grinding. "Are you in trouble?"

Not unexpectedly, he had put together her mistake and her early dismissal from work and assumed the worst. "If I wasn't fired for trying to stop the Waynes, it's going to take more than an oversight to get me thrown out on my ass." Her brow furrowed. She sneaked a hand under his jacket and placed her palm on his chest. "I just hate that I wasted last night for nothing."

Soft lips, slightly sticky with red paint, grazed her temple. "It's okay," he said. "You're here now. And I got to help you."

The balm of his kindness loosened her rigid stance. His zeal to assist her, to ask questions, to learn about every aspect of her branded her heart completely. She leaned into him, kissed the squishy fold of skin under his chin, and nudged his ribs. "Food's ready. Go change. I want to hear all about your day."

Arthur emerged from the bathroom within minutes, clad in his worn, blue house pants and toweling his hair. Dimples were on constant display while they ate. The glint in his eyes was the one he usually had if his act or a job had gone particularly well, if he was pleased with himself. Was the one starting to be an almost weekly occurrence. Was the one that made his green eyes sparkle and caused her stomach to flip. He inched closer to her with every sentence.

The kids at the new children’s medical center had liked Carnival, he said. They hadn’t minded that he’d "filled in" for Gary. The magic tricks had all gone without a hitch, and the clinic had provided the balloons, which was a savings. The nurses and doctors had been nice; they’d even asked for his card. He’d had to provide a slip of paper with his address and telephone number instead. But he was sure he’d be invited to perform again. And he asked Y/N for help writing Gary a thank you note for the referral, claiming, “You’re better at that than me.”

“You’re the one who journals every day.” Her bowl and spoon clattered in the sink. “And your letter to me was beautiful. Just let me proofread it.”

Soon they were reclined on the sofa, sharing the flat pillow he’d used when he’d had no choice but to sleep there. The tape he’d recorded yesterday was playing. The Honeymoon Game had been a casual watch before, he’d explained. Not a nightly ritual like Murray. Given that he had a girlfriend and was a boyfriend himself, it had become fun to view.

She was only half-focused on the TV’s talking heads. Her mind was drifting to moving day, which filled her with gladness. She examined the plaid walls, the white cream color ceiling, the knick-knacks strewn about in the glow of the setting sun. The lantern with an owl hanging in the corner; the green, plastic drawers by the television; the curio cabinet... They were all a part of 8J, but assuredly not a part of him. How much would he be bringing with him, she wondered. And what would he be leaving behind?

“With one sugar and a shot of milk.” Arthur’s lively voice broke through her contemplation. Ah. He was reacting to the questions posed to the contestants, and making the answers about her, as he was wont to do.

She nestled back into the pleasant warmth of his firm frame. “Three sugars,” she replied, confirming she knew how he took his coffee. They continued to play along, with him showing off everything he’d memorized about her, and her replying with what she’d gathered about him.

Eventually, he shifted behind her. Raised himself on his elbow. “How did you know you loved me?”

Her hum was soft. Short. Possible responses were multitude. She’d suspected she could fall for him early on. When he’d wanted to repay her for doing what anyone should have done on the subway. And the first time he’d had the courage to call her after they’d split a slice of pie, his slight stammer revealing his nervousness. Maybe she’d say it was how slowly he’d drunken his wine during dinner, initially squinting as he sipped, his inexperience with alcohol obvious.

But she chose to go with what she believed was truest. What she assumed he’d hear most keenly. “Before we slept together, I hadn’t been with anyone for four years. And even then, it was different.” His hand splayed on her abdomen, thumb dragging along the waistband of her green leggings. A delightful ache flared in her center. “When I woke up, I felt perfect.”

“You felt like you were perfect?”

“No, silly,” she laughed, batting his forearm. “I knew I hadn't made a mistake. I reached out to your side, first thing - I’d thought of it that way, even then.” At the sensation of his hardening shaft against her rear, she giggled. “You’d made me so happy. You always do. I wanted to you to bed me again.”

The round tip of his nose skimmed her cheek, and she shivered at the dip of his fingers into her panties. “I want to again,” he rasped, paraphrasing her. The grind of his length was making her light-headed, and she twisted her torso to look at him. “I’ve been thinking about it.” Cheekbones glowing, he averted his eyes. “Ever since I woke up.”

“My monthly started,” she said regretfully. His descent halted, and a groan of frustration left him as he lowered his forehead to her shoulder. She mused. While he was becoming more apt to say what he desired, it happened rarely. But she loved it and didn’t want to discourage him from letting himself be assertive. Would he be offended by her suggestion? “I freshened up before we laid down. I have a tampon in. There are other things we can do.” She pressed her lips together, hoping she didn’t sound presumptuous. “If you’re comforta-“

“I’m comfortable.” His mouth quickly claimed hers, opening on a sigh. The tip of his tongue laved at the seam of her lips, and his messy enthusiasm made her whimper. Leaving a scorching trail in its wake, his hand traversed to her upper leg, gliding over the crease where her thigh and vulva met.

Shallow breaths caressed the nape of her neck, stoking the heat threatening to consume her. But the studio audience blaring from the television’s mono-speaker kept wresting her out of her haze. She snatched the VCR remote from the coffee table and hit the pause button.

The tease of his fingertips at her dark curls caused the peaks of her breasts to stiffen. She gasped as the rough fabric of her sweater dragged along them. His fore- and ring fingers spread her outer lips and she shuddered. The leisureliness of his fondling didn’t detract from its intoxicating effect.

Though it was a tad rough. “You’re kinda dry. Hold on.” Swiftly, he brought his hand to his mouth and wet his fingertips. Y/N blinked at him. It was clear he thought nothing of it, which shouldn’t have been a surprise, considering he’d confided he liked going down on her. Still. Seeing this normally reserved man improvise so he could pleasure her made her center throb with need.

Y/N was doing her damnedest to get her leggings and underwear down. Arthur snorted at her spirited, failed attempt at kicking them away. “It’s okay,” he chuckled, pushing them off her ankles with his foot. Then his touch fluttered at her swollen folds. She arched into him, already feeling as though she would burst. Bent at the knee, her leg lifted until her foot was flat on the couch cushion, allowing him easier access. He took advantage, sweeping forward and back along the rigid line of her engorged clitoral hood. She rolled towards him subtly, her moans getting louder with each tap to her sensitive nub.

Still holding himself up, he cradled her head. "Your sounds make me crazy," he said lowly. Once his hips started following hers, faintly rutting against the flesh of her backside, she closed her eyes. Hurriedly, she reached behind her to yank at his pajamas. "What?" he asked.

"I want to feel you," she whispered. There was a huff and some fumbling. And moments later his cock was settled at the cleft of her bottom. She bit her lip, savoring the weight of him. God, he felt wonderful.

His fingertips whispered over her clit, daring to follow the edge of her inner labia. She heard him gulp. "How does it feel when we're together? When- When I'm in you?"

"Warm. Full. Like you belong there," she replied with a smile. That last part of her response must have been unexpected, given that his grazes ceased and he trembled. "Don't stop," she whined, placing her hand on his. "Please, Arthur. You know just how to touch me."

Groaning, he started anew, deftly swiping quicker and quicker. The undulations of her pelvis hastened unevenly, begging both for release and for their coupling to last forever. She ran her palm up her torso, kneading her breast and plucking at her nipple. He nuzzled at her ear, grunting low in the back of his throat. Winding her fingers into his loose waves, she tugged lightly. Her belly twitched. Her whole frame tingled.

His skillful touch. The love they had for one another. The noises he was making in the crook of her shoulder. They all combined to throw her over the edge, and a wave of pleasure crashed through her. She cried his name brokenly, feeling empty without him inside her. But he kept holding her, guiding her through the crests of her climax. She was gasping, struggling to suck in air. Surely, she thought, he could detect the thundering of her heart against her ribs.

Gradually, the quivering grip she had on his locks eased. The kisses he planted on her neck were open-mouthed, desperate. And he hadn't halted the ardent movements of his hips. Y/N turned onto her other side. Gazing at him, she raked his curls out of his face, caressed his cheekbone with her knuckles. His look was hungry, darkened with need. The creases between his brows deepened as her hand trailed through the sparse dusting of hair on his chest.

There was a youthful charm to this situation, she considered. To them craving each other but not completely joining. It reminded her of being a teenager. When she'd been curious and horny, but nervous and not quite ready to go "all the way" with her ex. Being with Arthur allowed her to do all that again. To relive those experiences, to explore and make discoveries with him. To fall further in love with him daily.

She tenderly pecked the freckles at the top of his sternum, nestled against the notch above his clavicle. "I'm lucky to have you."

He didn't miss a beat, even as she trailed past the ticklish spots on his flank. "I'm luckier."

"I disagree." She outlined the slender muscles of his stomach, the v-lines leading to his cock. Played with the springy, brown curls at the base of him. "Without you, I'd only have my work. Which was enough before. But not now." After a moment, she concluded she was being sappy. She had to change it up. "And I wouldn't be having the best sex of my life."

Clearly flustered, he muffled his laugh. "Really?" His blush was prominent, his grin ecstatic.

"Really." Groans short and sudden, he rocked into her touch when she encircled his ample girth. Her fingers danced along his shaft, marveling at the contrast of his velvety skin with how hard he was. Pumping up and down, she tugged at him, trying to match the speed of his thrusts. He nudged his nose to hers, gazing at her before his hooded eyes flitted to watch what she was doing. Then she looked, too.

The sight of him fucking into her hand made her dizzy with want, even though he'd just gotten her off. The crimson, swollen head glistened, slick beading generously at the tip. Y/N licked her lips and spread it around him with the pad of her thumb. Moaning sharply, he bucked harder. Her motions quickened, flicking repeatedly at the notch on the underside.

Demand was implicit in the grasp he had on her upper arm. And it strengthened as his hips' stuttered, becoming unpredictable. Ragged pants hit her face. "I'm- I'm gonna make a mess.”

"It's all right," she soothed. Keeping ahold of him, she lay on her back. He followed and settled on top of her. Whimpering her name, he rubbed himself against her labia. But she gently pushed him onto his knees and continued palming him, her fingers teasing the ridge on his erection. It wouldn't take long to make him come. She could see it in the clench of his jaw, the tightening cords in his neck, his abrupt, needy cries...

Plunging forward, he held himself in place, grunting, clutching her urgently. His release hit her abdomen, warm and wet, and she gasped, her body curving up towards him. The feel of him spilling onto her couldn't completely distract her, though. Not from the beauty of his parted lips. Not from the relief that gradually spread across his features. Not from the slackening of his muscles as tension ebbed.

Sweat had gathered on his forehead. A droplet ran from the end of a dark brow to his jawline. Then he kissed her, his mouth groping at hers. "I love you," he said. He gave her one last peck and sat up on his knees. Holding onto the arm of the sofa, he retrieved her underwear from the floor and wiped her belly off. "That was fun." He tucked his chin bashfully.

"I concur." She entwined their hands and sat, then stretched as she pushed herself to stand and walk to the bathroom. The washcloth he'd designated as hers hung on the hook by the towels. She cleaned herself, listening as Arthur started the show again.

A new round of questions was just beginning. "When you and your spouse first met," the host started, "what was your first impression?"

Arthur's answer was instant. "Nice."

Y/N said the first thing that came to mind. "Handsome."

She popped her head out of the room to find him leaning on the entrance of the short corridor, beaming at her with hitched giggles. He was probably waiting for his turn to clean up. Like he normally did. But she couldn't stop herself from staring at him. Loving eyes met hers and his brows lifted expectantly. "Yes?"

Smiling, she wrung out the washcloth and put it back in its place. She stepped to him with a smile and smoothed his hair back. The rush of happiness in her soul, one she wasn't even sure she had, enamored her. Not only at what they'd shared on his old, scratchy sofa. But at Arthur being Arthur. At knowing soon she'd get to sleep next to him every night. Build a life with him, one she hadn't dreamed of even six months ago. Nothing she could say seemed adequate. So she went with a kind gesture, one she knew he'd appreciate. "I'll make us some decaf. And I love you, too."

~~~~~

Tag list (Let me know if you want to be added!): @harmonioussolve​ @howdylilflower​ @sweet-nothings04​ @stephieraptorr​ @rommies​ @fallenstarsabyss​ @gruffle1​ @octopus-plasma​ @tsukiakarinobara​ @arthur-flecks-lovely-smile​ @another-day-in-chuckletown​ @hhandley80​ @jokerownsmysoul​ @mrscarnival

#arthur fleck #arthur fleck fanfic #arthur fleck x reader #arthur fleck x female reader #arthur fleck smut #arthur fleck x ofc #joker 2019 #watchwhathappens

[normal-thoughts-official]

Eros and Psyche aus are pretty common, I've seen a few Malec ones, but consider, Apollo and Hyacinthus. Beautiful, gnc immortal being with a lot of failed relationships? Pretty mortal from an important family who thinks the society he lives in needs to change? Hella amgst? Lorenzo can be Zephyr, angry because Magnus 'gets everything he wants' and he 'doesn't deserve to be happy'. For the flowers there are species of roses called Alec's red roses (pinkish red) and Alexander roses. (orangey red)

n i c e tho imma be real ill need that to have a happy ending fifndkdndkdmdk but yeah ur right they do fit the characters

other deeply unexplored greek mythology au idea is hades and persephone, like.... hello? when magnus was stuck in edom and alec said he'd go and be there with him? that's the first thought that came to mind. like the angels intervene or something and they end up with the six months at a time deal or something. and it fucking sucks because Magnus doesnt fucking want to be in edom. its slightly more bearable when Alec is there, but still, he misses the people, the food, the world, his family. and edom is filled with terrible memories, he told asmodeus that being there again was his worst nightmare, so like. good amgst

and he hates that he's there, hates every second, has terrible nightmares with the worst memories from his abuse and childhood that wake him up in a fit of sweating and thrashing, hoarse from screaming, and when he wakes up and sees where he is? he wishes he was still in that dream

and Alec knows it, and hates it, because Magnus is there dealing with this alone for over half of the year, and he can't see the things that he loves anymore. Magnus was always so lively and intelligent and curious, he liked to travel the world, meet people, learn new languages, read about new cultures, invent things, study. the world was always Magnus' canvas, to be created as well as explored, possibilities and knowledge and he just loved it so much?? and now he's kept away from it all. and no one but Alec can even visit because it could disrupt the rift. he only gets to hear from Raphael, or Cat, or Madzie, through Alec. it's hell. i mean obviously but. it's even worse

meanwhile as soon as Alec sees himself back in the real world hes just. so angry. he's tried everything, even bargaining to take magnus' place, because magnus doesn't deserve to keep losing everything for Alec, he should be able to make a sacrifice too, Magnus shouldn't be forced to live in a nightmare like this...... and he doesn't sleep, doesn't eat, just throws himself into research on how the fuck to get Magnus out of there, to bring him back where he belongs, god damn it, because Magnus deserves the entire world at his fingertips, and the world deserves Magnus back, because without him it's like there's nothing

and when the day comes that Alec finally gets to go back to edom, when he can finally rest even if for a little bit, because even if he's getting nowhere there'll be something he can do for Magnus, keep him company, give him love, tell him everything he's missed and bring him presents and news from his friends and family, hold him, make his life a little better, protect him... he's so fucking relieved, and so is Magnus, and Magnus hates that he's relieved because he's just dragging Alec with him to his nightmare, what is wrong with him, is he so rotten that he thrives in bringing people down with him to this nightmare, does he want to take it from Alexander, who has his family and friends too, dull his light and hurt him, is he becoming like his fucking father-

except as soon as Alec gets there he runs to Magnus, desperately, barely able to breathe, and all but leaps on him, holding him so tight and smiling once he feels him in his arms, acting like its the first time he's breathed in months. and it feels so good, Magnus can barely handle it, because even if he's still in hell, at least he feels loved

besides, there's always that doubt at the back of his mind, telling him that maybe this time alexander won't come. maybe he's finally done with this, tired of wasting his life with Magnus, who has nothing to offer him but more and more broken pieces of himself. but he does come, and when he does, he looks like he's in heaven, not hell, simply because Magnus is there and he can finally be with him, take care of him. and it's not- it's not what Magnus wants, and it's not enough, because he's still trapped and hurt and bleeding inside, but when Alec hugs him for the first time, it feels like it

and the last day of Alec's in edom is always so. franctic and desperate, Alec not wanting to let him leave his side for a single second, holding him tight, handling him so gently Magnus feels like he'll break from the carefulness of his touch, and he says goodbye between kisses, holding magnus' face, promising him that he's gonna keep looking, that he's not going to give up, he's not, he's not, he promises, Magnus won't be there long, Alec will get him out, no matter what it takes, he promises- and then he's suddenly gone and everything is empty and Magnus chokes up and cries. and Alec, back on earth, screams and punches his punching bag until his knuckles are bleeding, in deep frustration and hurt and that feeling of being so useless, too useless to help Magnus, too useless to even be there with him, even though he promised, he promised his forever, and he promised he wouldn't let Magnus be hurt again

and Magnus stays in edom and cries and wakes up from the new nightmares instinctively reaching for his side, like he's gotten used to in the last few months, and then chokes up as he realizes that he's alone again, that he can't even have that semblance of comfort he used to for these few months, and this time it might be for real, because Alexander has to give up eventually, doesn't he?

so he moves on and tries to busy himself and keep the world safe, and, if possible, try to make edom at least a little better. he keeps his presents and hopes against hope that he'll see his family and friends again

until one day, he wakes up thrashing, not from nightmares, but from this weird dizziness and pain, like he's going to throw up, like he's been poisoned, and when he sits up, he feels himself be yanked back, and he blinks, and he's on his loft. and Alec is laughing and looking so relieved, izzy by his side holding his shoulders, and Madzie and Raphael both leap on him, smiling and crying at the same time, because they'd missed him so bad and god it's worked, Magnus is back, he's back and saved and edom is sealed and no one will ever have to be there again. and Cat also hugs him, and then izzy and finally Alec, laughing as he holds Magnus' face and kisses him so gently, and Magnus smiles through tears, and thanks them, for not giving up on him, for being there. and its so emotional and ddmdodm for the first few days raph and cat and madzie are all glued to magnus' side, catching up, telling and retelling the same stories Alec had told him a thousand times, but they all relish in it, telling them again and again until it starts to feel like Magnus was there. and the family is back together, and they're all okay, and that's all that matters

#i went off #sorry #ask #anonymous #sh #shadowhunters #malec #malec fic #malec ficlet #malec hc #magnus bane #alec lightwood #raphael santiago #catarina loss #madzie loss #brotp: i'll do whatever it takes to protect them #long post #overflowing trashcan

[loulougoingsolo]

DIYing a Bold Hair Choice

So, as we all know, we live in troubling times. I've personally been living in quarantine-like arrangements for about a month now, and although I've been mostly doing alright, some things have proven to be hard. I was supposed to have my hair professionally cut and dyed this week, but I had to cancel the appointment, and at the moment, I don't know when I'll get to visit the salon for the next time. So, I had to take matters (or scissors) to my own hands.

I'm a DIYer, but I've never cut my own hair. I've also had it professionally dyed since I was 15 or so. For a short period, I only had it bleached and cut by a pro, but then dyed it myself with a pretty intense cool shade of red - but other than that, and a few toner touch ups, I've always relied on professionals. So I was in a bit of a pickle, when I realized that I'd have to either DIY or have my grey roots grow wild for months. And because my hair is short, the roots way too grey for my age, and I had all this time ln my hands, there was really only one way this could go.

When I go about a DIY project, my first step, always, is thorough research. I had an idea for what I'd attempt to achieve, so I went on Youtube and searched for diy haircuts. I got some good tutorials, but most of them were for long hair - and I also got suggested GMM episode #989, in which Rhett and Link battle in cutting their own hair (wigs). Can I just say, they predicted the Tiger King craze long before Netflix:

So, I immediately figured I would not be able to follow yhe hair styling tutorials of this GMM episode. First of all, I could only find one pair of scissors even remotely sharp enough to cut hair. They were not sharp enough. Secondly, the longest part of my hair barely reaches my chin. I would need to really commit to every snip I make, or I'd end up with a bald hair style, instead of bold. As attractive and gorgeous some people are with a fully shaved head, with my head shape, that was something to avoid at all costs.

Another thing I was worried about was that I'd probably end up cutting my own finger, like Link. I've always found it extra difficult to see my own reflection in a mirror and try to do accurate motions according to the reflection. Simply put, my brain gets confused. Also, I don't really have a way to see the back of my head through the mirror at all. How the crap am I supposed to cut anything?

At this point, I understood that the actual haircut was going to be the tough part, so I decided to focus on the dye. Since I cojldn't just go to a big supermarket to buy the equipment, I had to order the dyes online. At this point my plan was simply to buy a multitude of wild colours to mix and match according to my mood, so I ordered a tub of Midnight Blue, Daffodil Yellow, Flamingo Pink and Cerise dyes, all by the brand La Riche Directions. These dyes are semi-permanent, sonI knew they wouldn't cause permanent damage to my hair, and at this point, that was kind of my goal - whatever I do, I don'g want to ruin things too badly. But, because I'm familiar with semi-permanent dyes, and I've had pretty much every shade on the spectrum on my hair at one point, I knew I might require an extra step to see results. Which is why, "just in case", I added a hair lightening kit to my order. I figured, I'd make some lighter strands on top, to have some colours show properly.

By the time the dyes arrived, I was already pretty fed up with my grey roots. I watched the GMMore which followed the hair cut episode. Rhett, who won the haircut challenge, got to decide what colours would go in Alex's hair. Alex had done the smart thing and bleached his hair professionally to be dyed in this episode, but he somehow agreed to letting Rhett and Link add the colours.

When Rhett explains everyone how he and Link used to dye eachother's hair back in the day, I realize that even though I'm technically watching a DIY hair tutorial, they aren't actually doing it themselves. It's quite different to put dye on someone else's head than your own. (Also, something I didn't notice back when I first saw this episode: Link says it would be crazy for him to have his hair dyed, but looking back, he most certainly had his hair dyed at this time.)

It was slightly alarming to see that Alex was worried about how things would go. I could hardly expect to achieve anything much better than the guys, since at least they had the studio lighting and a full team to help rhem not screw up. I had a mirror in my dark toilet, which is barely big enough to stand in.

I also forgot to buy vaselkne, which was a big mistake - although I don't think it's even possible to buy a container that big here. Why would they have that at Mythical in the first place? But something about seeing how much trouble the guys were having controlling the unmixed streaks of dye and all that vaseline made me worried.

At this point, I need to tell you that seeing the blank canvas which was Alex's hair, I, now the proud owner of a 40 % bleack kit (which apparently is the strong stuff), decided I was not going to waste energy by trying to dye my hair without bleaching, only to find out that the colours didn't show. So, I mixed the bleach, put on a worn-out t-shirt, used hand lotion to vas up my forehead, neck and ears, and then just went for it.

I did watch quite a few proper tutorials. They taught me, firstly, that 40% was a no-no. Secondly, never bleach something that has already been bleached, especially, if your hair has multiple colours. Forth, never start from the roots, as they get bleached faster (this ended up being the only rule I followed). And, above all, go to a professional.

So, I added the bleach to my hair. First I tried sticking to just a few strands, but then a blop of the bleach fell on the wrong spot, and I figured, why not just go full head. I did. I left the stuff on for maybe 20 minutes, and after that I got scared and rinsed it off. Then, I used a silver toner, and was left with a fascinating mix of orange, yellow and white hair - and a strand of persistent green from my previous dye. But it was blond enough for my plans.

Alex had a beautiful mix of blue, pink and purple in his hair - and that accidental splash of green - and after considering thoroughly, I decided to go for these colours, too. I mean, pink, purple and blue are my jam. Also, as much as I wanted to go full rainbow, I figured it would be an impossible task to keep the different colours from mixing, and that might result in brown, which is the colour of defeat. So, I went with midnight blue, flamingo pink and cerise, and wasn't too concerned aboit getting the colours mixed together.

This is how Alex's hair looked on the episode, before he rinsed the extra dye off:

I couldn't find any good photos of his hair after it was rinsed, but tgere was one which suggested only a faint shade of blue stuck.

And finally, here's what happened with my hair. Now, I'm not posting my face here, just the hair. Imagine a white blop with green eyes below the hair, and you'll get the idea. In the first two pictures is my hair during normal times, and just before I diyed it. It looks particularly nasty in the just before hack job pic, because it was adviced not to wash your hair before bleachkng to save the scalp - but as you can see, this was not a fun thing to see in the mirror each morning:

After I had dyed my hair, I did some snips here and there, and also, because I was able to borrow a hair clipper from my dad, some clipping - which in my books, saved the day. The haircut is pretty botched, but I actually absolutely love the colour. And the criss-cross shave despite it being pretty bad - it also looks badass in real life. The picture taken outside shows the pink colours more accurately, but the cut shows better in the other pic. There are a couple of ways I can style this later on, but I kept styling to minimum for starters, because I didn't want to cause extra damage to my hair:

So, this has been the story of how I diyed my hair during quarantine. My mom loves the whole thing (I showed it to her yesterday while taking them groceries), and although there are some spots in the back which could have more colour in them, I'm pretty satisfied. I know my hairdresser is going to weep when she sees me, but she'll get over it.

So, in conclusion: Would I do this again? Yes, but I'd definately leave the cutting and bleaching to the pros. Also, now I can't really bleach again for a while. But I'm actually thinking about taking the dyes I have to my hairdresser so she can dye my hair properly with them, in a healthier way, once all this chaos settles and it's safe again. I'd probably need a slightly darker, permanent colour to the roots, but I absolutely love these insanely bright colours. And I'm so going to try the full rainbow this summer, too.

Would I recommend this to others? Yes, but with caution. The direct semi-permanent colours are safe and won't damage the hair, but bleach does. My hair is naturally a tad too dark to show bright colours properly, so I took the risk. I was also mentally prepared to shave the whole thing off and wear my mythical hat for the summer - but I'm happy that wasn't necessary. If you aren't willing to risk damaging your hair, stick to semi-permanents.

To end this post, here's a selfie I took yesterday on my grocery store trip in full safety gear (I have a paper mask under the scarf):

Stay safe! Do things that make you happy! BYMB! 💗💗💗

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