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#i have terrible sleep patterns
demcnsinmymind · 5 months
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reading @badassxbirdy 's reply like
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lovepropaganda · 7 months
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sysig · 2 years
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I want, not so much in many directions, but at a highly variable angle at any given moment (Patreon)
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I’m gonna have like. A day off lol my bad
#no I actually don’t mind I rather enjoy what I do#i have 2 days off from work but one of them I offered to help someone move#shoutout to her she’s like one of my favorite people I work with and one of my favorite people just in general#I’m like I will gladly help you move whatever you need I’m there she must’ve asked me like 1000x times if I was sure about wanting to help#like girl not only r u always nice to me no matter what but you also mimick the things I do in a kind way like I’ll do anything for u#i actually didnt realize I had quite a few traits until she started mirroring them and I’m like oh I do that! i do that? i do that!#apparently I tilt my head a little whenever I smile. and of course the way I wave and say hi. and several of my speech patterns#it’s very little things that mean the world to me#catch me cross country on the weekends when I’m bored just to pop in and say hi to these people#i don’t even necessarily love my job or anything. it’s fine. sometimes it’s stressful. sometimes it’s boring#but I do love the people I work with. there’s like 3 I can’t stand. but there’s a few that make me ok with working so many hours per week#oh but it’s so funny the way I get when people make it clear that I matter to them#the woman I’m helping move had said earlier she was exhausted doing it by herself#and then for a half hour I’m thinking to myself. i can help. i want to help. anxiety of my parents. i want to help. i want to go offer help#and I finally was like. um. if you want help I’m not that strong but I’d really love to help. yeah I am serious. here’s my days off#like tell me why I was so absurdly shy. like aw she made it apparent she enjoys my presence at work! forgot how to exist#the way I don’t understand human interaction. at all. it’s terrible#it will not get better with time lol#oh man I work tomorrow#i gotta go to sleep rn#soup talks#but first. gotta catch up on my daily gatchas
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grumpycakes · 2 years
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I think you're piss (I'm sorry lmaooo), kitty and cloud. But kitty like. NOT derogatory<3
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ahahahahaha what I'm gathering is that y'all have clocked me on my fucked up sleep schedule and want me to take a nap
i... only have Dean as a reference to a Poor Little Meow Meow and, well I feel dean coded so hey, but the online definition is sending me rofl
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and piss U_U ur vv kind anon, I'm working on making shit better, fingers crossed the world works with me
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kringelorde · 1 year
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anyone else unable to sleep well during full moons (specifically any bipolar, epileptic, or migraine sufferers)
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cyberthot666 · 1 year
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saw a pic of some people cuddling & thought oh I want to cuddle & then immediately thought of someone being in the bed with me and was like hmm maybe not
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neil-gaiman · 5 months
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Neil, can you tell me the truth? I’m terrified of my future right now, and not for no reason
I crashed and burned. I did it to myself, I knew what I was doing and I didn’t stop and now I’m paying the price. There were… other factors. I was driving myself to work pretty much from the moment the pandemic started, way more than I should have, because I didn’t want to spend too much time thinking about how terrible everything was. And then I fell into an abusive relationship and I never stopped working because if I stopped, my abuser would stop loving me and start abusing me
And I knew, on a level. My subconscious tried to warn me, a lot, because I was born into this particular pattern of abuse and I didn’t recognize it in time. This year, my subconscious took drastic measures and made me very, very sick to get me the hell out of there. The inevitable abuse part of the abusive relationship happened as a result, and I ran because I’m not a complete idiot. Now I recognize the abuse for what it was, but now I am sick and paying for my crimes of not resting at all for over three years and letting someone use me as a punching bag
I can’t write. I can’t sleep unaided. I can’t barely eat. I spend most of my days in the dark because the light hurts. I still have ideas, but I am so tired and in so much pain I struggled just to write this
I know I need to rest. I know I need to give myself time to heal. I know I need medical attention and therapy, probably lots of it, before I will be capable of living in any meaningful fashion
But… please sir… Please, can you tell me my words will be waiting for me at the end of this dark road? If I still want them to be, if I take the time and steps to heal, if I’m patient and successful… Please tell me my words will be waiting when the damage is repaired enough for me to have them again?
Heal and rest and heal some more. Your words will be there for you when you need them.
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astrxealis · 1 year
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once i dreamed that i was in the Video Game Store and there was a copy of drakengard 3 for ps3 there and i got it
#⋯ ꒰ა starry thoughts ໒꒱ *·˚#⋯ ꒰ა drakenier ໒꒱ *·˚#and then i woke up. forgot soon after. and sometimes remember randomly about this again#dreams are so interesting! i've realized that for me they often reflect with whatever i am currently into the most#so there was a time my dream was a mix of diablo/bloodborne/twisted wonderland/black clover#because i was getting into twst. obsessed w diablo 3's trailer? and Lilith in general. and bloodborne music and in general#and i was watching black clover around that time as well! so yeah. that's one obvious example#so w me getting dod3 in that gaming store it wld have been bcs yeah for a while now. obsessed w drakenier#esp so recently (like. past weeks/month/s) bcs i got replicant and finally played that and automata after a long time of wanting to#and i have yet to properly get to know dod3 but yeah!! so that being my current Thoughts + the game store being fresh in my mind#manifested what my dream was about. and this is a pattern w my dreams but ik that it is different for others which is very interesting#some people like arte my twin have dreams that often have apocalypses#hmm oh and btw!! dreams and nightmares both. vv interesting fr#my nightmares are based off what i currently fear at a certain point#so once b4 bed i curiously read a lil horror story and i had a. terrible dream#and - something that is also interesting - i had a better dream after i hugged my pichu stuffed toy and went to sleep again!#so there's neuroscience stuff going on and dream stuff and man idk the proper yeahs but yeah!!#and there was another nightmare where bcs i was scared of going to the bathroom when it was dark#my dream included smth w that yeah!! not gna explain tho bcs it's funny LMFAOOO#yeah. idk what else to say
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nehts · 2 years
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IT'S ONLY A MATTER OF TIME NOW....... WITHIN TWO HOURS I WILL HAVE MY WIFE BACK.............. BEAUTIFUL PLATONIC WIFE WILL BE RETURNED TO ME..................... AFTER TEN YEARS <-5-7 hours roughly. same thing
#I fought off the fucking. HORRIBLE thoughts of missing the dynamic that I had with . well. Him.#The guilt/regret. etc. fucking. tooth and nail I was fighting for my fucking life but I DID IT. I SURVIVED and I'm FINE relatively#I miss my fucking WIFE!!!!!!! I HAVEN'T SEEN HER FOR TEN THOUSAND YEARS. EVERY MINUTE IS A DECADE AND I AGE JUST AS MUCH.........#It's FINE and it's better that she sleeps as much as she can. however I will lose my fucking mind every time. to be fair it is rewarding .#The longer she sleeps the bigger the reward (wife returning from the war)#Soon. soon. I'm being so brave right now I'm surviving and I'm fighting to stay alive with all that I have . I'm doing so well#I miss her. I miss my wife so much. every day it grows harder than the last to not simply .#Trebuchet myself across the ocean and skip myself like a stone the entire way.#This is terrible. I'm being discriminated against by time itself#To be fair. with my sleeping pattern she has to wait longer every day. Does she complain? well. no. but let's face it .#I'm the malewife. and she is the breadwinner who murders me daily as she is so much fucking stronger than I ever will be#Physically? I have no idea. But mentally? 100%. the fact that it does not drive her mad instantly to wake up and wait many hours is.#A miracle and a fact that she is so so so strong. look at me crumple. it's been 5 hours and I'm dying.#Maybe not literally. I'm being very dramatic for the bit as I'm fine honestly. but it's funnier to whine a ton about. 5 tiny fucking hours
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glassrowboat · 3 months
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Morning After
Authors note: This includes a variety of my own headcanons on these characters. The reader is gender neutral. This includes only the male harbingers, but I am willing to write one for the chicks too ^^
Capitano.
-The instant you stirred in your sleep, just the slightest twitch, and you were pinned to the mattress with a looming figure above you. His black hair tickled your skin, swaying back and forth from the sudden movement, but that was barely a concern when this man who had been so sweet with you last night was suddenly acting like a switch that flipped off in his brain. All you could tell was one discernable thing after the sudden surprise: there was no escape if he didn't want there to be.
-”Capitano?” You called out, voice hesitant and barely a whisper as fear choked back the ability to speak confidently.
-Immediately the tense nature that had over taken his form fell, shoulders no longer strung together as that soldier who had been pinning you down held you close and started apologizing for startling you.
-He didn't have to say it, he didn't want to, bit for a moment there the Captain had mistaken you for someone that crept into his chambers with ill intent. He's a soldier. War is what he's known for. This caution just comes with the territory.
-To make up for his own actions he makes sure you're well fed, given a hearty breakfast (one a little too big for you to fully eat but he doesn't mind giving you some Tupperware to take it home in) and tea.
-It's just he's a terrible conversationalist, barely talking as he just nods along to whatever you say, making you carry the flow the entire morning as he adds in an occasion “yes, interesting, or no.”
-At least he's handsome under that helmet.
Childe.
-Fell off the bed the moment he saw you, a shout falling from his lips from the surprise of the fall and well, this naked person in his bed.
-Why he didn't expect you to wake up and throw a pillow at his head for being so darn loud when you have a hangover? Well, only Celestia knows. Though he didn't bother to block it, simply accepted getting hit as it didn't even knock him back.. well that is if he didn't play along and dramatically fell down onto the floor.
-”Are you always such a drama queen?”
-”A guy can't play along with a joke?”
-Very sweet, but a little bit annoying as he asks about you in as many questions he can think of. What's your favorite color? What's your job?
-Admittedly Childe has never had a one night stand before so he doesn't know what to do in this position so when you give him a sweet smile and tell him to just to let you get dressed for now he goes to get a stray shirt for you.
-Definitely wants to see you again, and not just in the bedroom.
-”So where do you come from?”
-”Give me five minutes for fucks sake.”
Dottore.
-First off, what? He's aware each harbinger has their own little dedicated fan club, even him…for some reason. Yet for him to willingly bring someone, possibly one of them, to his bed? People aren't allowed in his personal quarters. Hell, he barely uses it himself, opting to sleep on that one couch in the laboratory. So why the switch in his normal behavioral patterns?
-(I personally see Dottore as a virgin so for this dweeb to lose it this way-)
-Admittedly, he's on edge from trying to remember what happened, the haze of sleep, and the shock of seeing someone he apparently trusted enough to bring to bed. It only made sense he was scowling at this sleeping body. It wouldn't be easy enough to just call it a new test subject, use the sheets as restraints to drag this stranger down to his lab and shove them in a cell but..
-Maybe not this time.
-Instead he gets up and throws on some clothes as quickly as possible, making sure to slot his mask in place despite the fact you have very obviously already seen what lies underneath. That and more.
-It has proven more useful than not to use that thing to hide his expressions.
- Depending on if he drank last night and that's what had him indulging in the warmth of another person's body, Dottore would have one of his clones stand by until you wake up. They can deal with the situation from there and take you home while he gets some caffeine in his body. An easy way to rid of a hangover and forget his newfound company.
-If it was a completely sober decision, Dottore no longer has the excuse that he simply got ahead of himself from the drink and would therefore be hostile in response. Unable to put up with this one bit, he would be telling his bed partner to get dressed and head home already so he can get back to work instead of watching over pointless little you.
-Don't try and say anything about possibly being emotionally attached, it would only anger him. Boy is not used to being open or vulnerable with anyone and you suddenly appearing and having held him so close last night would only set him off in the worst of ways.
Pantalone.
-First thing this man notices is he's just not as comfy as usual, somehow this mattress isn't right, he isn't sinking into the soft plush he spent thousands on. Not even his haze of grogginess was enough to make tossing and turning twist his body into comfort. (Goldilocks having motherfucker). So with a steady hand he reaches out to find his glasses on the nightstand, silver chains rattling on the surface as he pulls them close.
-A one night stand isn't an uncommon thing to the regrator, for him it's happened a small handful of times before but it's never something he's typically the better for in the morning. A man of his position caught slinking into a woman's bedroom as they drunkenly grope at eachother was far from a good look. Not to mention you never knew if the individual would keep their mouth shut.
-That has been a problem with one particular individual in the past that has henceforth been ‘dealt with.’
-But the person laying besides him was still conked out and wrapped in a good majority of the blankets the bedding had to offer. Well, a bit of a thief aren't they? Pantalone almost wanted to laugh but kept his mouth sealed shut, already knowing it's best not to wake you.
-Slowly he got up and out of the bed, trying to keep it from creaking too loudy, to put on last night's clothes. He'll take a shower and get changed into something clean later.
-With one last peak towards the stranger he spent the night with Pantalone slipped out of the front door.
Pierro.
-He's confused.
-Now he understands what happened, the sight of you naked and curled up into him is more than enough to make that clear; though your underwear basically on his favorite pillow definitely would have gotten the point across either way. But, like, him? You who look so much younger, livelier compared to what Pierro sees in the mirror every day after five hundred years haunting him.
-Maybe that joke the second made about people liking ‘older folks’ was based on reality.
-Would greedily allow himself to hold you in his arms for a time. It started with him first saying one minute, that's all he'd allow himself. Then that turned into five, then ten, then twenty. Eventually he would barely wish to nudge you awake even though he knows better.
-Don't go getting attached when there's so much left to do.
-When he finally did wake you up he did his best to make sure you wouldn't get startled, softly calling out the name he was given last night. It's just a shame you do, startling as your hand nearly wacked his face from sheer shock. (Though who can blame you? It's not everyday you blearliy open your eyes, vision still blurry as you take in a man with white hair and stars in his- wait is that the fucking Pierro? Oh fuck).
-The type to help you find your clothes and call for a cab so he knows you get home safely.
-Now all that's left is trying to figure out how to hide the hickey you planted on him.
Scaramouche.
-Let's be real here, you're not making it to the morning.
-He had no clue why he was allowing this, allowing a humans lips to fall to his own with such fevered need. In any other situation he'd be pushing them off, telling this person they're a useless worm that shouldn't ever have walked these lands if all they was going to do was use their life to paw at him. Oh but to worshipped was a delight.
-Kisses pressed to the wooden skin of his puppet body like small prayers to the God he will one day be. This is what humans are made for, aren't they? To give their all to a greater being. So readily Scaramouche let himself be tugged along as you pulled him to wherever you pleased, ready to lavish in the attention he so rarely got.
-A human isn't a threat after all.
-Yet when you tugged on his short, pulling them down just low enough for your mouth to eagerly await something filling it, everything took a turn for the worst.
-”Wait a minute, you don't have genitals?”
-And in a heartbeat you were struck with a bolt of lightning that had you dead on the spot.
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thatfreshi · 8 months
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Can I request Astarion x reader and he drinks from u when your standing and your legs buckle and you start to collapse from the blood loss but he catches you and Carries you to your bedroll and takes care of you?
Forgive me if it's rough, still trying to figure out the speech patterns!
Recommended Song: Ivy - SALES
It usually wasn’t often that Astarion asked to feed on you. Sadly, resources have been scarce, wild animals included. Anytime Lae’zel is out scouting she tries to bring something back for him, but to no avail. Recently, he had been asking quite often, and there is always an air of guilt in his question. 
“I’m sorry to ask my love, I just worry the others will see me differently, if I were to feed on one of them.”
It’s not as if your other companions aren’t aware of his situation, or the fact that you have to satiate him every once in a while. You think he simply feels like a burden, having to ask people for the very thing that sustains him. He just feels a little less like a burden when he asks you.
“Of course dear, no need to be sorry.”
You’ve gotten used to how this goes, as you’ve been travelling together for quite some time, and you and Astarion got smitten rather quickly. He’s always quite gentle, even if it does hurt at first. Instead of sitting down however, you continue working on stitching up a piece of your sleep-wear. With powerful magic from the likes of Gale and Shadowheart, you think such minute things could be fixed easily, but alas, they still require a realistic solution.
While you’re busy putting to work the simple stitch he taught you, Astarion moves to drink, wrapping you in a warm embrace. Many would think that the act of being drained of your own blood would be, well, terrifying, but something about it is quite intimate, heartwarming even. You don’t even really think about how your veins start running cold, how you start to feel much worse than normal. Then, you’re on the ground, needle and thread along with you. 
“Darling! I apologize, I should’ve had you lie down first, I should’ve-” 
He cuts off his own words as he scrambles to think. You’re still not fully there, but you want to tell him you’re fine. Sadly, eyes can’t always tell all. Even your parasite seems too drained to connect with him. When you regain some of your senses, you see that Astarion has brought you back to your bedroll, muttering something to himself, pacing the tent.
“I could’ve waited, I would’ve been fine. I-”
He pauses, realizing you’ve started to stir.
“Tav, darling, are you alright?”
You try sitting up, and he quickly moves to support your back, wrapping his arm around you waist.
“Yeah… yeah I’m okay.”
“I apologize, I knew it was a risk to feed on you again so soon. I put you in a terrible position, asking you like that.”
You reach to put your hand over his.
“No, it’s alright. I’ve become so nonchalant about it, I should’ve been much more considerate of the circumstances.”
He’s silent, trying to find another way to blame himself. The truth is, both of you were quite tired from the recent adventuring, and weren’t thinking straight. 
“I’ll tell them all we should stay at camp for another day. Or perhaps they can journey back to the Grove and we can stay for another evening.”
You tighten your grasp on his hand until he finally make eye contact with you.
“Astarion, it’s fine, truly. I’ll be fine tomorrow, come morning.”
You smile at him, despite the nausea caught in your throat. He feels bad enough, no use in making it worse. 
“Here, come lie with me.”
You meet the ground once again, and he joins you shortly after. He still has that look, that dreary mist across his eyes. Instead of trying to tell him in words, you nestle into his side, wrapping yourself around him, a way of saying ‘I still love you, no matter what.’ He leaves a kiss on your forehead, and finally lets the tension go. You close your eyes soon after, exhausted. Astarion never tells you, but he stayed awake and by your side the entire night, unmoving, just in case.
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lexias-stuff · 2 years
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Currently asking myself if what I'm feeling right now is due to a flue, the fact that I haven't eaten or the lack of sleep. It's probably the latter but shh
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ambrosiagoldfish · 2 months
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Lucifer, Charlie, and alastor with a Kitsune reader ? :0
Hazbin Hotel x Kitsune! Reader
(Lucifer, Charlie, and Alastor)
Safe for all Audiences!
Warnings: None! Gn! Reader! Reader being a mischievous Little Kitsune, chaos ensues.
Request Box: Open
Word count: 1101
A/n: Hi! thank you for the request! This isn’t terribly long so I hopes that’s ok!
Now, I wasn’t entirely sure if you want this to be Romantic or Platonic so I kept it pretty vague so it could be interpreted as either! I hope that’s ok, if not just send another request and I’ll fix it!!
But either way I hope you enjoy it because i enjoyed writing it!! <3
Proofread once soooo… if there are any errors please ignore them/inform me 😭
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Lucifer
When you first arrived in hell, he wasnt the most impressed by you. Not in a mean way or anything, just that he’s lived for a long time and has met a plethora of different types of beings so he’s pretty used to meeting interesting looking people.
But even he has to admit that he was intrigued with you. Your 9 well-groomed and lush tails that quietly followed you with every step and the fur of your fox ears looked soft to the touch. The thing that he seemed to notice most though was the whole eloquent aura you had with every movement you did. Smooth, almost tranquil.
You being a Kitsune did cause you to stir up a bit of… let's say trouble. Your fox nature of course caused you to have a personality that leaned a bit mischievously. You weren’t malicious by any means, you judt had a very… unique taste in humor and how you wish to spend your time. Pranks, stealing random objects that interest you, and going places that you probably should be. This gets you in trouble with many a folk but it’s really not something you can’t handle.
On one of these occasions. you took interest in his custom made duckys. First off, it was something new to you, 2nd, you had never seen someone be this interested in ducks as him, so when you randomly stumbled into the big man of hell’s workspace that’s filled to the brim of them, each with unique features and colorful designs, needless to say you were quite interested.
He was a bit embarrassed at first when you found it but seeing that you genuinely were into them he literally couldnt stop showing them off. Going into almost ecrusiating detail of each one's design choices. (This man is so autistic-coded. I love him so much)
He even made a custom one for you which he gave you when both met again. It was a basic duck design, except it had 9 tail feathers and wore fox ears that clearly mimicked your own, including your fur pattern. He then spent an hour going through each of its features with you. To say you were grateful would be an understatement.
“And if you pull this feather back… Bubbles! Oh-ho, and that's not all! If you take this and-”
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Charlie
Definitely more impressed than her father would be. Of course she has been in hell literally all her life and has seen some weird, wacky, hot and cool people but it still doesnt not surprise her when she finds interesting people. When you first met her she was really interested in you, asking a bunch of questions and It was almost scary how enthusuatsic about it she got.
She then started talking about her brand new “Hazbin Hotel.” It was something to reform sinners so that they had a chance at redemption. Charlie seemed so excited to tell you about it that you honestly did have the heart to tell her that you didn’t exactly believe a soul could be redeemed.
Now depending on if you’re hellborn or a sinner, things can go a bit differently. If youre hellborn she’ll offer you a job at the hotel, well to say a job would be a lie, you didn’t really have 1 given task to do, you just helped out when needed. if you’re a sinner, you of course get to stay in a room at the hotel. Whether you actually go along and try to get better is up to you. It was a free place to sleep, so hey? Might as well. Either way though, Charlie always sees the good in people, hellborn or not. So she would obviously want to help you grow as a person even if you are hellborn.
The michevues aspects of your personality tends to cause some problems for the hotel at times. Fights happen, lessons have ended prematurely, and you may have accidentally caused a bar fight between Angel and Sir Pentious. It really was an accident, how was you supposed to know “borrowing” one of Pentious’ shiny tools would cause such a ruckus?
Charlie lectored you about taking others' stuff and made you apologize.
As much as Charlie doesn’t want to admit it (at least before episode 5) she’s a lot like her dad. That also expands to their likeness for your fur. She really can’t take her eyes away from it, it just looks so soft and neat… and soft… eventually you catch her staring at your tails and you just laugh and ask her if she wants to touch them.
“What!? Pfft, noooo, no no no. hehe…he…unless you’re offering…”
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Alastor
Considering Alastor died in the 20’s I don’t think he knows what a Kitsune is exactly. Which is probably why he’s the most interesting in you at first glance (you could have also met when he first manifested in hell, which would only further his intrigue)
Either way, your personalities seemed to mesh well for the most part. You both stir up trouble wherever you go (Alastor a bit more… maliciously than you but still)
Whether you’re hellborn or a sinner is irrelevant to how he treats you, though he has tried making a deal with you every once and a while. You always decline but he thinks it’s always worth a shot to ask.
Alastor is aware of your devious behavior and knows the best way to handle it if it ever happens to come his way. He knows that you’re harmless and not a threat which is exactly why he has taken a liking to you. You’re someone who can only really help his cause and nothing bad can really come out of you being around.
Pranks though, are the one thing that Alastor can’t seem to sway you out of doing. He can’t even begin to count the amount of times he’s been at the front end of them. Of course he always sees through them and they’ve never once worked, but boy are you sure determined to one day get him.
This was one such case where you attempted to steal and hide his radio cane while he was asleep, only for him to sneak up shadow form and scare you half to double death
“You’re going to have to try harder than that to pull one past me, my, oh-so dear, exquisitely fluffy friend”
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another-lost-mc · 4 months
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a new dating sim catches your eye and asmo is absolutely 100% not jealous at all.
a date with death | asmodeus x gn!reader
cw: sfw (slightly suggestive towards the end). pet names (asmo calls reader darling, sunshine). vague spoilers for parts of the game (up to day five). silly fluff and jealousy over 2d characters.
word count: 1.2k words
a/n: I really like this game (a date with death) btw, I definitely recommend it.
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"I tried that new game you've been playing."
Asmo's comment catches you off-guard and your eyes slowly blink open. You were on the verge of sleep, warm and content with his chest pressed against your back and his arm draped loosely over your waist. The words are muffled slightly against your shoulder, his lips leaving a sticky trail from the hydrating mask he smoothed over them as part of his nightly skincare routine.
You've been playing a new dating sim lately. You knew Asmo peered at the monitor over your shoulder to see what you were up to, but he didn't seem all that interested. He didn't give any indication that he wanted to play it himself, either.
It's not the first romance-based game you've played in the Devildom and he never cared before. He thinks it's cute when you find a character that appeals to you. Sometimes he watches you play through the stories, or he'll listen with a smile while you talk about the game later.
When you offered to play other games with him in the past, he insisted that was Levi's area of expertise. That didn't prevent him from finding his own ways to enjoy your hobby with you though. He preferred to indulge you with a little bit of roleplay instead: parading around his room dressed like your favourite characters, imitating their speech patterns and mannerisms to sweep you off your feet, and seducing you as if they had come to life.
(Later, he seduced you properly as himself because no one can ever love you as much as he does).
But he knew right away that this particular game was different. You giggled at your desk while you tapped away at your computer. It made you smile in a soft and charming sort of way. It irked him that some pictures and words on a screen drew that sort of reaction from you the same way he did.
You lean back and glance at him over your shoulder. His expression is hard to read in the dark, but you can feel the heavy weight of his stare on your face. "I didn't know you wanted to play it. You should've told me! Did you like it?"
"Not at all," he declares firmly, and you can't help but chuckle at his sharp response.
"Really? Why not?"
"I'm so glad you asked, darling," he says as he turns over and sits up suddenly. He flips on the lamp beside him, and he rubs the back of his hand against your cheek in apology when you wince as light illuminates his room. He plucks something off the bedside table and waves it in your direction with a flourish. "I made a list!"
You give him a skeptical look as you roll over to give him your full attention, and he clears his throat and taps the top of the page. "My first complaint is the ridiculous title: I Made a Bet and Have to Survive the Next Seven Days Without Falling in Love With a Babygirl Reaper Who Wants My Soul! Seriously? The title alone should warn you how terrible it's going to be."
"That's not what it's called in the human world," you explain with a shrug. "I don't understand why they changed it here, it's a little bit silly."
He tsks under his breath. "Silly indeed. Where do I even begin with this so-called love interest? It's almost like the creators have never met a real reaper before. I can assure you most of them aren't as nice or cute as they make him out to be." The look he shoots you next is oddly serious, and it sends a chill up your spine as his words sink in. "I recommend not getting too close to their kind. Thirteen seems docile enough, but I prefer your body and soul to remain in one piece."
You're not sure how to begin to respond to that little speech, but he pokes the paper with his finger and continues reading his list of "glaring issues" with the game. The complaints get more ridiculous and obscure, and it's only when he gets to the bottom of the page that the reason for his sour mood dawns on you.
"...and when I thought it couldn't get any worse, he calls you 'sunshine.' He has some nerve - that's what I call you. Remember when Mammon thought it would be funny to call you his sunshine too?" A dangerous gleam twinkles in his eyes before it disappears just as quickly. "At least he learned not to do that again," he murmurs under his breath.
You shuffle over on your knees and swing your leg over his thighs so you can sit in his lap. "Do you have any other complaints on that little list of yours?" you ask him with a teasing smile.
He huffs in frustration and his frown is adorable - of course he has one more grievance to share. "That stupid reaper doesn't even know your favourite flower. Tomorrow I'm going to buy you the biggest and most beautiful bouquet you've ever seen."
He finally drops the paper but neither of you spare it a second glance as it falls over the side of the bed and flutters to the floor. He wraps his arms around you and squeezes your waist gently, slumping his head against your chest with a drawn-out sigh. "I don't see what you like about him."
"Oh, Asmo." You run your hands gently through his hair as you hide your smile against the crown of his head. "Are you telling me there's a video game character you're actually jealous of?"
"Of course not," he mumbles into your collarbone, mouthing softly at the skin with little flicks of his tongue but it's not quite enough to distract you. "I wanted to see what all the hype was about." His teeth graze the bottom of your throat and you swallow down a quiet moan. "I found it extremely disappointing, by the way."
You cradle his jaw gently and tilt his head up so you can kiss the corner of his mouth. "You're so cute when you pout," you coo softly, just to watch how his cheeks turn pink. "I hope you know that he could pop into existence and appear outside your window right now, and I still wouldn't be interested in him. He's not you."
The words seem to soothe him a bit if the purring in his chest is anything to go by. You kiss the tip of his nose and let out a quiet squeak when he grasps the back of your neck and pulls you down so he can kiss you.
Repeatedly.
"You're right, darling." Kiss. "He's completely irrelevant," kiss "and I've already forgotten what his name is."
The world tilts suddenly as Asmo flips you onto your back and braces his weight on his hands. You giggle when he leans down and noses along your jaw. One of his hands slowly glides down your chest and tugs at the hem of your shirt, lifting it up and tossing it aside without a second thought.
"Let's see if I can make you forget his name too, hmm?"
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read more: asmodeus masterlist | obey me masterlist
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comfortscripts · 5 months
Text
Santa's Statistics Helper ¬ Michael Gavey
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Plot - In the midst of the worst Christmas of your life, you meet an arrogant genius who takes pity on your inability to do statistics. Pairing - Michael Gavey x PsychologyStudent!Reader Notes/Warnings - As a psychology student who hates statistics, this was just based off how my boyfriend explains it to me. Michael is a bit of a sweetheart in this with streaks of arrogance. Not proofread so I apologise in advance if it is terrible Word Count - 1,943
Sunday the 10th of December
“As it helps identify the patterns, the correlation matrix is useful in psychological testing, economics, risk management, and statistics. Calculated as (x(i)-mean(x))*(y(i)-mean(y)) / ((x(i)-mean(x))2 * (y(i)-mean(y))2. This mode- Oh for fuck’s sakes!”
Slamming the monotone textbook of your nightmares closed and shoving it to the opposite side of the oaken table, you breathe a sigh of frustration. Four hours you’ve been trying, 240 minutes of your life spent in a lonely library struggling to grasp the difference between a correlation matrix and covariance matrix. If someone told you when you picked psychology that you’d be sacrificing your Christmas to study for some pathetic quantitative methodologies’ module, you would have switched your career pathway to dogwalker.
Unfortunately, you aren’t a bloody psychic so here you sit with red rimmed eyes, frizzing hair from repeatedly tugging at it, and longing for being home watching The Polar Express. A string of swears partnered with the shuffling of papers acted as your soundtrack for the next few minutes as you attempted to build back up your confidence.
“You made it this far; you can do this! Once this module is done, you can get a pint and burn your calculator.”
Just as you leant to grab the textbook, a voice broke through your bubble of academic frustration.
“Don’t think you’d get very far burning a calculator after a few pints, I’ve seen how you handle your alcohol.”
Jumping backwards in your chair, eyes frantically assessing the source of the teasing words. There he stood, Michael Gavey. You had only met him in once during Freshers, but after minimal contact with him, you understood that he looked down on your choice of degree. Mutterings of how it is a pointless degree for vapid girls who would become housewives or receptionists within years of graduation. Mousy hair that had no clear style, smudged glasses, and an oversized maroon jumper that made him appear wider than usual.
Perhaps it was your lack of sleep, but Michael Gavey seemed to be far better looking than before.
“What the fuck Gavey?! Could have given me a heart attack, and I know you are smart but you aren’t a bloody doctor.” Clutching your chest to emphasise the theatrics of your startled self, a small huff left your person with the final word.
With a soft chuckle, the lanky boy slid into the chair opposite before resting his judgmental eyes on your figure. Assessing your appearance as if you were one of his equations. Those denim blues flickering between you and the scattered papers filled with incorrect or half-complete statistical equations.
Moments passed in silence, and with each second you grew more agitated with the piercing gaze from the bespectacled boy. “What are you even doing here Gavey? Is Christmas too simple and mainstream for you to celebrate?”
“I would ask you the same question, but from what I recall you seem to embrace the simple. Or does that only apply to your choice in degree?”
That fleeting thought of attraction was zapped from the air as his words bit at your confidence. Usually, a quick-witted response would fall from your lips, but after days of struggling, it was difficult to view yourself as anything but a student heading towards failure.
It was clear to tell the atmosphere had shifted, a tense weight fell between the pair of you. Watching as his calculated smirk fell, understanding that perhaps his words might not have been appreciated in this moment.
“What do you want Michael? I’m too busy to be belittled today.”
“Well, I was planning on asking you to be quiet. I’ve had to listen to your ridiculous murmurings for the past 2 hours. Not to mention the constant echoing of you abusing those poor books.” Straightening himself in the padded wooden seat, attempting to appear unphased by how defeated your voice sounded.
Even though Michael would never admit to it, he always harboured a modest crush on you. He remembers the way you walked around the different Fresher events with such confidence, despite not knowing anyone prior to starting University. Eyes following your figure as you made the rounds before making your way to his table of one. That was when he messed up. Something about your presence made any semblance of a filter disappear, and the insults flew from his lips before he could bite the words down. All he could do was stare as that kind spark in your eyes faltered and you muttered a discouraged goodbye before walking away from his lonely table.
Since that day, he kept an eye out for you. Never once daring to speak again, but always glancing at your corner table during dinnertime just to catch a glimpse of that jubilant smile. Yes, he thought any subject outside of mathematics-based degrees were pointless to society. Although for some reason, he never wanted you to feel anything less for your choice of pathway. Everyone else on your course might be a half-wit, but not you. Never you.
Suddenly feeling sheepish, you make a move to pack away. “Oh, I apologise. Truthfully, I thought I was the only one who stayed back for Christmas break.”
Hand reaching across to grab the textbook currently resting before the boy, you were met halfway by a larger colder hand. “Don’t leave on my account, especially before I can explain to you the different applications of correlation matrixes.”
Rearranging the position of his chair to minimise the space between the both of you, as he fumbled through your plethora of mock questions and attempted answers. All whilst your mouth parted with puzzlement, leaving you to watch his movement with questioning eyes.
“Why in the world would you help me?”
“Figures it could balance out my karma for slagging your subject. Plus, I can’t sit here knowing you are desecrating maths and not intervene.”
And with the rippling sounds of the pages followed by the subtle knock of the textbook cover, the pair of you began an unlikely partnership.
Monday the 18th of December
The next seven days were spent in that secluded corner of the century-old building with Michael explaining statistical concepts in his velvety tones. At the start, he found it difficult to not mark his superiority or mock your questions that seemed elementary to him. Eventually, he grew to understand that you really did care about understanding the methods entirely, and that your questions spawned from craving knowledge rather than sheer stupidity. Awkward explanations turned into two-way conversations during study breaks, and silly jokes. If anyone were to enter the library, they would hear the duo of laughs ricochet off the walls of books. Perhaps they would think that two friends were sharing inside jokes, but if anyone saw the pair of you, they would see two fools infatuated with one another.
It was true, within the past week Michael’s crush only grew and you started to realise that Michael might be the unexpected highlight of university. Since Freshers, you felt drawn to him, and maybe at the start it was purely a physical attraction that was shut down by his mean-spirited comments. But this version of Michael, where he feels comfortable and lets down his arrogant guard, this is the boy that you wish you’d known from the beginning. Heart fluttering when he praises you, chest aching from giggles at his nerdy jokes, and fingertips lingering slightly too long on his veiny hand.
As the snow falls outside, the pair of you sat with only the sound of your nervous drumming and the scratch of Michael’s pen across your mock examination. Studying his side profile, getting lost in the way his lips purse with satisfaction when he ticks off a correct answer, if you didn’t know better, you’d say he was proud of you. Several moments trickled by in silence, waiting in anticipation to see whether the hours spent together had actually taught you anything. There was the unspoken discomfort of what happens next. If you had passed with flying colours, does that mean you and him go back to strangers? Could you pretend to be less than friends again with all these newfound feelings? Truthfully, part of you wished you failed so he would have to keep tutoring you.
“And you did it. Congratulations, you have officially conquered statistics.” Sliding across the paper marked 86% with a little smile into your expectant hands. Those stormy blues meeting yours to watch the excitement unfold.
“I did it? Oh my god, I did it!”
Waving the paper in the air before bringing it to your chest, eyes sparkling with happiness as the weight of failure floats off your shoulders. Michael could only match your exuberant smile, leaning his chiselled chin on the palm of his hand to watch the subject of his dreams glitter in front of him. He knew the doubts that clouded your judgement were bullshit. In his eyes you were almost as smart as him, only in a different way. Watching your seated celebrations as he commits the image to memory, with fear of today being the last day of closeness between you two. Michael half expected you to drop him after realising you understood the concepts. That you would finally recognise you are worth more than someone like him. Someone of a higher class, someone more muscular, someone who isn’t a social pariah.
Those thoughts were halted by the feel of your jumper-clad arms being thrown around his neck, drawing him close. Snapping out of his daydream just as you bridged the gap between your lush lips and his own. Michael felt you melt into him, arms softening in their hold but your lips still continuing the connection with passion. This kiss was all consuming, built up with each second of vulnerability shown throughout the moments together. He noted that you tasted like spearmint gum, and it perfectly complimented the constant chocolate that lurked on his tastebuds.
Somehow it felt like the pair of you were joined for eternity, feeling as if the cool of his lens would be ingrained on your skin. Reluctantly the two young students separated, faces flushed and chests heaving in a desperate attempt to fill your lungs. The realisation of your bold move flashed in your brain, panic arising in your stomach at all the possible scenarios that could happen next, but those fears settled as you saw the soft look hidden behind those glasses.
“Thank you, Michael. I couldn’t have done any of this without you.”
“Well, it does help that I’m a mathematical genius. But truthfully, I’ve enjoyed teaching you and would happily continue our study sessions.” Despite his clear words, Michael was still recovering from the shockwaves in his body from the taste of you on his lips. Mentally he was cringing at his entirely unromantic words, but all you did was smile.
“As much as I would like that, I’d prefer if our relationship went beyond studying? Perhaps we could go for a celebratory pint or get dinner together.” Awkwardly twiddling the hem of his sweater between your fingertips as you avoided his eyeline. “You know, like a date? Only if you would be happy with that, of course.”
“I’ve come to realise that if I was a correlation matrix, and you’d be the variable that’s highly correlated with my happiness. So yes, I’d love to take YOU on a date”
Laughter erupted in your belly at his cheesy line, and he fought the urge to pull in for another kiss. Instead, he chose to intertwine your warm hands with his. “A genius, a gentleman, a teacher, and now a comedian? You, Michael Gavey, are an adventure I can’t wait to explore.”
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