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ohdeerfully · 2 months

Note

hello there!

was wondering if I could request Alastor and reader having a debate over whether radio or the newspaper is better than the other (reader was a journalist in 1930’s New York in their past life). Heated debate that ends with fluff.

thank you!❤️❤️

hi thanks for the request!! honestly it doesnt really end with fluff, more just alastor being confused and also confusing, and im super sorry for that :sob: but i hope u enjoy it anyway!!! kiss kiss

What Would the Papers Say

Alastor x Reader (not explicitly romantic)

TW: none! join my discord!

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Alastor stood in front of you, a tight smile and narrowed brows decorating his face as he stood ominously over you. You swallowed, hard, as you had to crane your neck significantly to look him in the eyes. He waited impatiently for your words, his smile inching to become larger and more sinister by the second.

You took a deep breath and steadied your gaze against his, staring into his maliciously red eyes.

“Why can’t you just admit your wrong,” You said snidely, “The newspaper reached so many more people. And gave more people jobs. And was just better in general, really.”

Alastor laughed at you with closed eyes, something he would tend to do in arguments. He liked to make the other person feel ridiculous.

“How wrong that is!” He snapped back, eyes settling on you again. “My dear, the radio had much more value. Could your rolls of paper play music? Speak to people? All I see is a boring, colorless, dry wad of useless writing.”

You balled your fists in anger, restraining yourself from getting physical. You wouldn’t be able to land anything, anyway, so there was no point in trying.

“That ‘useless writing’ was my life’s work, you dick!” You spat, heart clenching slightly at the thought of him considering something so important to you useless. “Some people don’t like to listen to an annoying asshole yap in their ear for forty minutes!”

Alastor waved his hand dismissively at your attempt at an insult, his smile never faltering in the slightest. If anything, it grew wider when he saw your growing frustration. “But more people like listening to the asshole’s stories than reading the drab paper, no? News travels so much faster verbally! Why else do you think the paper lost popularity after the radio was introduced?”

You lost any response you had, eyes falling to the floor in defeat. Your stomach churned with unease, hating that you were losing an argument to Alastor. Yeah, it was hard to win against him in the first place, but it still pissed you off.

“At least we had fun comics to read…” You muttered in a weak attempt at a retort, folding your arms.

Alastor only barked a laugh in response, stepping forward and grabbing your chin with his sharp claws to tilt your eyes back up to him. He wanted to see your eyes glimmer with defeat, it was something he loved to see when he beat somebody in an argument—especially over something they were so passionate about.

However, his smile weakened by a hair when he saw your eyes, slightly shining with held back tears. You still had a look of frustration and you were confidently staring right back at him, but for once… he didn’t really like the look of miserable defeat. Not on you.

Alastor’s grip on your chin dropped so fast, as if you burned him, and his eyes darted away from yours. His brows were furrowed in what you perceived as confusion, but the expression vanished nearly as soon as you recognized it.

“Agree to disagree, then,” He said finally, looking back down at you through slitted eyes. He turned with a dramatic flourish, briskly walking away. He turned his head slightly towards you as he spoke one last time, “though, the radio’s never been used for fire kindling.”

Alastor did not like the way you made him feel. He didn't like that your grief made his own emotions go haywire. He was going to find out what it was about you that made him feel... weak, was it? He wasn't sure, but he just needed to get out of there.

You cursed at him, though he paid your words no mind. You could tell by the way his ear flicked in your direction that he had at least heard your frustrations. You finally let your confident face fall, and with a pout you traveled towards the hotel lobby. You needed a drink.

“Bold to argue with Alastor like that,” Husk gruffly commented as you sat down, slumping your shoulders. His arms were folded over his chest, and you awkwardly rubbed your arm.

“You heard all that?”

“You aren’t exactly the quietest.”

You sighed, resting your head against your palm and drumming your free hand against the bartop. “That’s embarrassing,” You said simply, chewing on the inside of your cheek. It wasn’t uncommon for racket in the hotel, but you typically held yourself to a higher standard than being the cause of said racket.

Even though you were upset about the argument, you couldn’t help but visualize that expression on his face when he looked at you earlier. What was that? Concern? Regret? Or were you just reading too much into it? And why did he leave the room so quickly?

You pondered over this as Husk slid a drink over towards you, the glass leaving a watery trail from building condensation. You gave him a small smile and silently sipped at it for a few minutes.

You tried to tell yourself you didn’t care one way or another what those emotions Alastor displayed were. He was a jerk. He put you down for what you were passionate about, and what you had dedicated your life too. What a dick. You didn’t care. Nope.

With a groan, you tilted your head back to finish the glass and nodded a thanks to Husk again before you made your way up the hotel stairs. Without realizing it, your legs seemed to take you to a particular floor and to a particular room that you would’ve rather avoided. You briefly wondered how strong that drink was that Husk gave you.

You held your fist up, paused for a few seconds, and then knocked. Why were you even here in the first place? You weren’t going to apologize. You opened the door yourself when you heard a faint ‘come in,’ slowly pushing it forwards and cracking it open just enough to peek your head through. Your eyes trailed around the room before you finally saw the demon in a bayou-like setting.

Alastor was sitting leisurely on a metal chair, one leg thrown over the other as he sipped on a mug. His eyes were barely open as he relaxed, and you could only slightly tell that he was looking at you.

“It’s rather impolite to interrupt somebody’s alone time,” He quipped as you walked the rest of your body into the room. “Especially somebody you pestered and yelled at only an hour ago.”

You bit back an angry comment, and kept your breathing level. You shouldn’t let him get under your skin like this. You clenched your fists, but otherwise maintained a cool attitude. You walked towards the corner of the room, examining the scenery before you. You wondered if the forest was actually that big, or if the wall was just an extremely well illustrated illusion. It wouldn’t surprise you if Alastor was eccentric enough to manifest a whole bayou in his own room.

Alastor looked up at you from his seated position, though he still seemed incredibly tall even as he sat. He had a grin spread across his face, and his head tilted slightly at you.

“Need something?” He tried prompting a word out of you. You hadn’t said anything since coming in, and curiosity began gnawing at his thoughts. He was frustrated, truthfully, about the earlier experience he had with his own confused, jumbled thoughts.

You honestly didn’t know why you came to his room. You didn’t really know what to say. You weren’t going to apologize or grovel for forgiveness, and you knew he would never ever admit he was wrong, either.

“You know,” You started slowly, voice just above a mutter. “The newspaper and radio could’ve worked together… one doesn’t have to be better than the other.”

Both grin and eyes widened at your comment. A wave of Alastor’s hand materialized an identical chair across the table, and you sat yourself neatly—and, a bit awkwardly—when he gestured for you to join him.

“What a thought,” He replied, bringing the mug to his lips again. His comment didn’t really give you any insight to what he actually thought about your statement. Though, you should’ve guessed. He has a superiority complex so big he would never admit to anything being on an equal level to him.

Still, you smiled weakly at him. You watched as his gaze studied you, maybe a bit too intently, and you momentarily saw that strange expression shift across his features. Just as before, you barely had time to consider it before it vanished.

“Tell me,” Alastor said, leaning back into his chair. A mug manifested in front of you as he spoke, and with a smell you could tell it was your favorite tea. You wondered if he actually knew, or if it was just something he could do magically. “If you are so keen on the radio and paper working together…”

He paused dramatically, and you clenched your jaw in response. How aggravating his knack for showmanship could be.

“Would you care to make a deal?” There was a sinister look in his eyes as he said the words, his grin twisting up his face with his sharp teeth bared at you. You felt a prickling at your neck, a bit uncomfortable.

“I don’t really… want you to have my soul, dude,” You responded, fiddling your fingers around the rim of the mug in front of you.

That sinister expression lightened, and he cheerfully waved a hand at you. “No, no, no,” He laughed, leaning forward and letting his elbows rest against the table. “No soul contract. Just… say, a mutually beneficial partnership. Radio Demon and Newspaper Demon. Interesting, right?”

“I… guess,” You replied slowly, considering it. Hey, if your soul wasn’t involved, what was the big deal? How much power could Alastor hold over you if he didn’t have your soul?

A lot, probably.

You shrugged. “Sure, deal.”

Immediately after your response, a shining sheet of paper and an outdated quill appeared in front of you. You eyed Alastor warily as you took the sheet, reading over the terms of your deal. Honestly, it didn’t seem that bad. It only really iterated your loyalty to him, and in return he’d give you the same.

If you didn’t know any better, you’d think this was a weird attempt at courting you. Weird.

Your eyes moved back to Alastor, who was watching you intensely. He had that strange expression once again, and it was starting to frustrate you. Why did he keep looking at you like that? And what did it mean? The room was silent for a few moments, save for the flickering noise of the ever-present radio frequency that followed the demon in front of you.

You took the quill, signed, and after a dramatic flash of light the paper was gone and you saw Alastor sitting with his eyes closed in an overly pleased smile. He clapped his hands together for a moment, before settling his sharp gaze on you once again.

“Well, my dear,” He leaned his chin on top of his hands, which were clasped together. He had a dangerous glint in his eye. “Mind if I take you for lunch to celebrate our new partnership?”

#ohdeerfully #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor #alastor hazbin hotel #deals with alastor r always fun

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mylovelo-ak · 9 months

Text

meeting imbibitor lunae

pairing: dan heng x gn!reader

wc: 688

synopsis: it's been a while since dan heng left for xianzhou, and he came back looking different??

notes: established relationship; spoilers!!! wrote bc im stressed w school </3

"i don't know, himeko, i haven't been able to reach him for days."

himeko let out a light laugh before sipping at her tea.

"he's a strong guy, (name). i guarantee you he's fine."

it's been a while since you last saw dan heng on the astral express after he decided to go after the others on the xianzhou. and he hasn't been replying to your messages since. dan heng has always been quick to reply to you, so his silence was frankly, out of character.

you're worried he's been involved in something keeping him busy or in danger.

dan heng never told you anything about his life before the express, and he never mentioned anything about xianzhou. but his uncertain expression when the place was mentioned, was a dead giveaway that something must've happened before.

"well yes, but he's all alone there and—"

a loud noise cut you off, followed by march's excited voice exclaiming about something.

"well looks like they're back!" himeko smiled before getting up to greet the returning members. you follow suit, eager to see your stoic boyfriend.

your footsteps were hurried, and you only mumbled a quick hello to the rest and went straight to... dan heng?

"did xianzhou give you a voucher for a salon or something?"

dan heng looked different.

his hair was longer, ears pointed, and is that eyeliner?

"hello." was all he said as his eyes darted to look everywhere but straight at you. there was a faint blush on his cheeks, which you assume is a result of your staring.

"must've been a wild trip, huh?"

"so let me get this straight, you were reincarnated, then thrown out of xianzhou, and you're actually some former big shot over there?"

"something like that."

after slipping away from everyone, you and dan heng settled in your bed in your room. his head was nestled in your lap as you hand your back against the bed frame. it's a position you both resort to after a long day, or in this case, a week.

you were mindlessly toying with his hair, almost convinced it wasn't real. for not being in this form for so long, his hair was pretty smooth.

"can i braid your hair?" you asked, already separating strands because you knew what he was going to say. he hummed in response. he leaned into your touch and let himself relax.

it wouldn't be the first time that you've done this. he used to leave the express with tiny braids scattered in his hair.

you started at the part where his hair split into two directions. you figured it would be better to do two huge braids instead of potentially hurting his scalp by doing what you used to do when his locks were shorter.

it frustrated you a little since his position would make the braids turn out wonky and inconsistent, but it's been a long week for your poor lover, you'd rather he lie down and relax.

it took you a while to finish because you took so many breaks admiring dan heng, but eventually you did.

"hey, can you move so i can lie down with you?" you tapped his cheeks to grab his attention.

you waited but to no avail. dan heng was fast asleep on your lap. you took the time to properly look at him. he looked so different from the dan heng you first met. every feature felt amplified and a lot to take in.

you let curiosity take the best of you, tapping on the horns on his head. he frowned in his sleep. he shuffled a bit and you almost panicked that your tap woke him up. but he only moved to nuzzle further into your thigh.

he was still dan heng after all. a boy of a few words who rarely smiled unless it was with you. dan heng who loved to fall asleep on any part of you and would whine when you’d try to escape from his hug (he’d never admit to doing that when he’s awake though).

you'd endure your legs falling asleep anytime for this man.

#dan heng #dan heng x reader #hsr x reader #hsr #hsr x you #hsr dan heng #honkai x reader #honkai dan heng #honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail x you #dan heng x y/n #imbibitor lunae

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sehnsuchts-trunken · 1 year

Text

Short And Sweet

Bradley Bradshaw x short!reader (because im short and ive always loved it lol) 1.5k words

summary: Bradley is much taller than you. And when the jar of jam you need just so suddenly happens to be on the top shelf, he reminds you why you love that so much.

disclaimer, i wrote this in the span of two hours with legally blonde on in the background so idk how much sense it makes

top gun masterlist | top gun blurbs

(i HAD to use this gif even if it doesnt fit like. LOOK AT HIM)

Flying was freeing. Freeing in ways that you couldn't describe. Up in the air, you didn't have to worry about anything down there - anything stressful or straining or terrifying. You could be yourself with every fibre of your body. Adrenaline, pure adrenaline, pumping through your veins. Your heart hammering so strongly that you could feel it, hear it. The sound of your own laughter in your ears as you sped up, up and up, until you were going so fast that there was no one faster than you in the world, the entire world, no one faster. Chasing the clouds, the sun, the skies. Being so absolutely free.

And not that you felt bad down on the ground or anything. No.

But up in the air, you belonged. You'd known that this was where you were supposed to be, had always been supposed to be, the very first time you’d ever started a plane.

And the records mirrored just that - the fact that this was what you were supposed to be doing.

You'd worked your way to the top quickly. It had taken a lot, of course, you'd never pretend that it had been easy at any point. But you couldn't imagine ever taking a different path. So you weren't surprised that you'd ended up at Top Gun, and you weren't surprised that you'd graduated top of your class. No, you had worked hard for it, and you deserved it.

You weren't surprised either that you counted as one of the best, the very best, and not only in your year, but on active duty. It was flattering, sure, it was nice to hear, nice to know, and you were proud, but you still weren't surprised. This was who you were.

You were never surprised when it came to the navy, to your career. So you weren't surprised either when they called you in for a mission - back to Top Gun, back to San Diego where it had all started.

The very first time that something surprised you in all those years was when you caught sight of Bradley Bradshaw.

And then things continued to surprise you.

Now, as you stood in the kitchen of your very own apartment, the room filled with laughter and chatter, you were surprised by a jar of jam. More specifically that the jar of jam had somehow vanished from the fridge.

You needed this thing for dessert. Where the fuck could a jar of jam have disappeared to?

Apparently to the highest kitchen shelf, because that's where you spotted it a minute later.

You huffed to yourself, blowing a strand of hair away from your face that had fallen into your eyes. Someone must have used it and then forgotten that opened jars belonged in the fridge. And that someone probably had been your boyfriend.

You set your palm flat against the counter, pushed yourself up on tiptoes and reached out with your free hand, trying to grab the jar and failing miserably. You pushed up a little more, straining at this point, still not even grazing it with your fingertips.

Okay, so you minded your height a little sometimes. Like right now, for example, as you debated the odds of climbing up on the counter top without breaking your neck.

“Want me to lend you a hand there, baby?”

You rolled your eyes as you pulled back and turned to look at him - one of those stupidly attractive Hawaiian shirts on, sunglasses hooked into the collar of the white top underneath, looking way too innocent for the crime he’d committed.

“This is all your fault, Bradshaw”, you complained, pointing a finger at him accusingly. “Admit it, you put it there on purpose. You and I both know only your things go on the top shelf.”

He was grinning, not even trying to mask his amusement. You just huffed again and narrowed your eyes.

“If you don’t want my help...”, he trailed off and took a step back, pretending to go and leave you alone here, fighting for your life against a jar of jam.

“Oh no, no, definitely not, we are not playing this game. You admit right here, right now that you put it there on purpose or... or you’re sleeping on the couch tonight.”

His face fell at that and he stepped closer again, reaching for your waist and tugging you to him, leaning down to bury his head in your neck. His breath was hot against your skin.

“Don’t be mad, baby”, he whispered, pressing a kiss just below your ear, so soft that you almost missed it. “You’re just too cute.”

You gasped and hit his arm, drawing back to look at him. He was basically hunched over - so pretty much on the same level as you.

“I’m not cute”, you protested. “Baby kittens are cute. I’m an adult human woman. I’m not cute.”

He chuckled and kissed the tip of your nose, tilting his head to the side. “You are. Very.”

You couldn’t help the small smile tugging at your lips. He saw it too, even as you did your best to hide it. His grin widened.

“Admit it”, he muttered. “You like that I’m tall enough to reach the shelves that you can’t.”

“Almost everyone’s tall enough to reach things I can’t.” You rolled your eyes. “I’m short, Bradshaw. I’m literally shorter than anyone else on the squad.”

He just raised his eyebrows as you bit your lip and avoided looking at him, instead pretending that the tiles were very interesting. Actually there was some dirt on there, so that was interesting, because you’d specifically told everyone to take off their shoes before they came in.

“Okay”, you muttered eventually, meeting his eyes again. “I do like that you’re tall.”

And then another thing that surprised you happened. Not because he leaned down to kiss you, not because you almost knocked his sunglasses onto the floor as you reached for his collar and pulled him closer, not because he wrapped his arms around you and lifted you off of your feet, but because in that very moment, Jake Seresin decided to make his grand appearance.

He needed another beer.

He whistled when he caught sight of the two of you kissing, whistled so obnoxiously loud that you broke away in panic, so loud that Phoenix appeared in the doorway as well to check out what was happening. So loud that the rest of the squad perched in your living room turned and tried to peek through the door too.

Bradley still had his arms around you protectively, your toes were still not touching the ground and your hands were still gripping onto his collar, but you’d both turned to face Jake with wide eyes.

“Hooking up in the kitchen now, I see”, he grinned. “Better not get anything in our food.”

“We weren’t hooking up”, you said, just a little breathless from the kiss.

“Yeah, mind your business, Bagman”, Bradley added, angling you away from the door. You didn’t understand how he was holding you up so effortlessly. Even a man like him had to have some limit as to how long he could lift an entire person - but no. Apparently not. With how often he’d carried you around the apartment already you were beginning to think he had some kind of superpower.

“Just make sure to be safe, you two.” Jake had the audacity to wink. “You know, use protection. We need you both up in the air for another few years.”

You and Bradley seemed to take away two very different things from that.

“I’ll have you know we’re very responsible adults”, he said, while you grinned and asked “You need us?”.

Jake just scoffed, grabbed himself a new can of beer and marched back off into the living room. Phoenix stayed in the doorway with a quiet laugh on her lips.

“You two are watching the food, yes?” She raised an eyebrow.

“I think we’re able to multitask”, you said, resting your chin on Bradley’s shoulder as you looked at her. He turned you even further, setting you down on the kitchen counter, settling in between your legs. You watched her shake her head and walk back into the living room and then you saw nothing but that Hawaiian shirt anymore and you had to guess if the smile you’d spotted on her face had actually been there.

You had to tip your head back to look him in the eyes. He rested his hands beside your thighs, lowering himself just a bit. The silence was comfortable - although it could hardly be called silence with all the chatter coming from the next room - not heavy or forced. Eventually you sighed and leaned against the cupboard behind you.

“Will you grab the jam for me?”

The only answer you got was a chuckle and you were surprised once again as he leaned down to kiss you, hesitating just before his lips met yours, the corners of his mouth tugging upwards, swerving right, breath ghosting over the shell of your ear.

“All you had to do was ask, baby.”

#top gun #top gun x reader #x reader #bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #rooster #rooster x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader

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twinkbusted · 8 months

Text

untitled- simon petrikov x reader

(just a very indulgent oneshot i wrote... i hope ygs enjoy! [btw y/n is NOT excusing simon's behavior at the end im sorry if i didn't make that clear] also pls excuse all grammatical errors... i wrote this in a few hours)

warnings ! - making out and sexual implications

rating - tv-14

It was early in the morning, when he left. At first you assumed he had simply left for work, but something felt off when you woke up. Half of the blanket was sprawled across the floor, Simon’s uniform was still neatly folded on the desk, and most alarmingly, there was a note on top of it.

“No, no, NO.” you stammered, dragging your fingers through your hair. You didn’t have to read it to know what it said. He was going to leave you again and he wasn’t going to come back. You hurriedly threw on a robe and slippers, not bothering on finding a proper outfit. You dashed out the door, shoveling your way through crowds and crowds of people.

“To Ooo?” The sailor asked, eyes wide. You didn’t have time for questions. You needed to find him now, before it was too late. “Yes. Immediately.” The sailor nodded, and started vigorously rowing. You knew you were being difficult; and possibly a bit entitled, but something like this couldn’t wait. You needed him to stay away from that thing.

“Thank you!” you said, scurrying out of the boat and into the woods. You didn’t know why you always tried to run after him. Deep down, you wondered if it’d be better if you just left, let him deal with himself. It was getting kind of tiring, like playing a never-ending game. You were not amused by it.

However, time and time again you still found yourself helplessly in love with him. It was probably foolish at this point, but he was always gentle; sweet. You just hated to see him like this; so upset. You would do anything to see him happy again.

After about ten minutes or so of running, you were surprised to see him sitting on a log, staring down at the ground. Taking a second to catch your breath, you slowly started walking towards him, still bearing in mind that he could still be thinking about taking the crown.

Your plan failed, Simon perked up immediately as he heard a branch break. “Y/n?” Simon asked, confused. You sighed, and picked up your pace, stopping about arm’s-length from him. You forced yourself to relax and hear him out, but it was hard to not look a little angry.

“What are you doing out here, Simon?” you asked, your voice softer than expected. He was silent for a second, scratching his head nervously. “I don’t know anymore. I’ve just been… so out of it lately.” Simon clasped his hands together, avoiding eye contact. You put your hand out for a moment, before taking it back.

“Were you thinking about taking the crown?” you whispered, hands clenched into fists. Simon’s head sank lower, his glasses hanging lopsidedly off his face. “Yes,” he admitted. “I thought it would make everything better again. But… I didn’t want you to go through that, not again.”

Your fists loosened up a little, it wasn’t perfect, but it was definitely a start. You adjusted your robe, and sat next to Simon. “Thank you for being honest with me.” You said, reaching for his hand. Simon turned around, giving you a weak smile. You laughed, and leaned in for a kiss.

In that moment, everything was perfect. Your hands fluttered at Simon’s waist, and his hand was around your neck, the other cusping your face. Simon’s tongue settled in your mouth, and your lip was inbetween his teeth. You found yourself pinning him to the log, moving up and down on his mouth, holding your breath like you’d drown.

Eventually, you both pulled back, gasping for air. You were both too tired to take it any further, and Simon peppered your cheek with soft kisses. You were grinning helplessly, staring lovingly into Simon’s eyes. He brushed your face, before resting his head on your shoulder.

Yes, it was definitely a start.

#twinkbusted #simon petrikov #simon petrikov x reader #hurt/comfort #ygs are sorting out your issues #reader is gender neutral #im so normal about this man #i love old men #what was the last tag whatttt

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goatlottin · 6 months

Text

favourite girls

In which you bring your 4 year old daughter to her first football match

genre: fluff

pairing: kylian mbappé x reader

a/n: HIM WITH KIDS ITS JUST. Im in awe everytime hes in a 10ft radius of one. Also i kinda hate this but 💔 i’ve had no ideas lately

The game had just concluded. 3-1 win to PSG with a Kylian brace and he got man of the match. You were so happy for him and couldn’t wait to celebrate alongside him. if you would be able to reach him, that is.

You had made the mistake of bringing your daughter, Ella, with you. Though you knew you had regretted it the second you both left the house.

She was talking throughout the entire match. Asking questions she probably knew the answer to, just so that she can blabber on.

She was undoubtly a daddy’s girl. Despite you finding it adorable, you sometimes found it terribly annoying how much she would hog him. Today, as an example.

He had barely come off the pitch, but she was dragging your hand towards him, just short of yanking off your whole arm. She was so radiant, her father's name and number glistening on her back so proudly. Her tiny pigtails flowing with the wind, the security allowed you both onto the field as soon as he recognized you.

As soon as she was somewhat in his distance, she had let go of your hand completely in order to catch up with him.

It was so beautiful, you had to admit. As he heard her small calls of “dada, dada!” while she tried her very best to catch up with him. He turned his head and his eyes literally lit up. He smiled in awe as she continued her run, crouching down when she was just in reach, and scooping her up. They shared a smile with each other before he threw her up in the air a couple times. her laughs, small, yet filling the stadium.

He then kissed her forehead, before aiming his attention to you only a few steps behind her. She wrapped her hand around his neck securely. He walked towards you in long strides before smiling down at you, then interlocking his lips with yours. A small kiss that put you all in this small little world that made you forget there was even another part of it.

Until Ella interrupted by forcing your forehead back. “My daddy.” She whined as she wrapped her arms tighter around his neck. She grumpily forced her face away from you. He only laughed and looked at her as he touched her nose. You, on the other hand, weren’t really laughing. Were you jealous of a 4 year old? Well.. it was more complex than that. This was about him defending you, at least that’s what you tried to tell yourself.

“You’re just gonna laugh?” You tilted your head with your arms crossed, eyebrows furrowed. He paused his tickling session, that must’ve began as you went into thought, to look at you.

“What was that, baby?”

You rolled your eyes as you scoffed lightly. “You’ve barely given me any attention since we got here!” You complained passionately.

He tilted his head, wondering whether you were being serious or playing a game with him. He turned to your daughter, still in his arms, one leg on either side of his hips. “Is Mommy joking? She can’t possibly be jealous of you, huh?” He rubbed noses with her as she exclaimed small giggles, twisting her face in laughter.

You got annoyed by his mocking tone, him knowing you were dead serious. “Kylian!”

“Hon, you have to be kidding. She’s four!” He pointed out.

Though he was right, you couldn’t help but feel insecure. Throughout your pregnancy, you often felt inferior when he would come home and skip the questions about you. Rather, ask things such as “how’s the baby?” “the little one still kicking?” It drove you crazy sometimes, weirdly enough.

Kylian could see you train of thought ponder off. You snapped back into where you were, at the stadium, to watch as he carefully set you daughter down, leaving her with a final kiss to her cheek.

He crouched down to her level, before pulling some of her hair behind her ear. “Go find uncle Dembele, sweets.”

She ran off in a hurry to find her father’s friend. His height reappeared as he gained his stance from his position on the ground.

He looked down into your eyes, grabbing both sides of your face. You decided to play stubbornly. Opting for turning your face to the side. He smirked slightly, giving the slightest force to bring you back to the two of you.

“Since I have to make it know, you’re my number one girl, hmm? Do I need to spell it out each word for you?” As with Ella, he put a few strands of loose hair behind your ear. The winds dismay.

You pouted, loving the attention that was currently on you.

“You know that right?” He asked for the final piece of assurance.

You nodded into him, putting your hands into your pocket before going on your tippy toes to reach his face. “I know that.”

He smiled before leaning into the kiss.

“Don’t tell Ella about what I said though. Don’t need another one of my girls’ mad at me.”

#kylian mbappe fluff #football fluff #psg #kylian x reader #kylianmbappe #kylian x you #football #mbappe fluff #mbappe one shot #mbappe fanfic #kylian mbappe dilf

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legilimens-library · 9 months

Note

Ok, im having a soft moment so here we go.

Im sure Severus never had anyone cook/bake for him, give him any individual affection, or do anything that made him feel special. No one to fight for him, he's always fighting for himself, yk?

But theres that one teacher (y/n), his bestest friend, always makes him feel wanted, loved, special. And he doesn't know what to do about it, so he just keeps being his cold, sassy self, UNTILLLLLLLL one day she leaves suddenly (short leave or other, your choice!). And poor boy realizes he actually really likes being wanted and appreciated- maybe confession when y/n returns?!!

Im down bad for this man, its concerning

~anonie 🖤

I absolutely adore this prompt and I enjoyed writing this little drabble for you. I apologize that it took me so long to respond, but I’m still trying to figure out how to work with the inbox and I didn’t see it right away. But anyways, I hope you like what I wrote. 🖤

Mutual Feelings

Severus Snape x gn!Reader

1823 words

“How long do you plan to be gone?”

You were pulling your coat over your shoulders before you turned around to see Severus standing by your office desk, his brows furrowed with a sort of solemn expression as he fiddled with his hands.

For a brief moment, you thought that he might actually miss your presence while you were away. He’s never been known to show much emotion in general, but ever since you started your position as the new Herbology professor, the both of you became quite close and he couldn’t help but let his barriers down and he found himself laughing at your frivolous jokes and smiling at the thought of joining you at your office to grade assignments while jesting each other late at night. He hated to admit that you had turned him soft, but he could never bring himself to be angry with you for befriending him in the first place.

“I don’t know yet, but I’ll send you an owl once I get to my sister’s place. She’s been a little worried about our mother’s health recently, but I’m sure it’s nothing too concerning.”

As you stepped closer to Severus, he regained his posture and smiled as you looked up at him. His hands twitched, trying so desperately not to brush away the stray hairs that fell in your face. For so long, he was trying to convince himself that he had no other feelings towards you other than that of a friend, but you somehow wormed your way into his heart and all he could think of was you day in and day out. You were so kind to him, far more than he ever deserved and yet you reminded him that he was wanted, maybe even loved through your acts of kindness as you sought after his advice and even baking him cookies when you knew he needed cheering up after a long day of teaching.

“In that case, I look forward to hearing from you once you get settled. But do be careful while you’re away, I don’t know how long I can endure your students as they will most likely fail at repotting the mandrakes again.” You laugh at his words, but he does have a point. Due to the last time, one of the Ravenclaw students was a little careless when repotting his own mandrake and you ended up in the hospital wing after you fainted. Severus was unabashedly furious, but you assured him it was only an accident and there was no harm done.

“Hey, that was one time!” You slap his shoulder lightly. “Besides, I don’t think any of them would dare make a mistake while under your tutelage. But thanks again for covering for me, I appreciate you doing this.”

“Oh, if only you knew.” He chuckled lowly. “But it’s no trouble at all, and if you need any further assistance while you’re gone, I would be pleased to oblige you.”

“I’ll have to keep that in mind, thank you. I best be off now though, otherwise I’ll never hear the end of my sister pestering me for being late. Goodbye, Severus.” You reach out and wrap your arms around him in a tender embrace and he surprises himself when he willingly reciprocates the hug, giving you a gentle squeeze before he reluctantly steps away.

“Goodbye, Y/N. Safe travels.” Severus only hopes that you don’t notice the small blush that tints his pale cheeks as you turn around to the fireplace in the corner. And with the flash of green flames engulfing your figure, you’re gone.

It had been a whole week since you left the castle and Severus was experiencing an inner turmoil with himself as he pushed his food around with a fork during dinner. You would usually sit next to him for every meal and he soon came to realize how much he enjoyed your company above everyone else who sat at the high table. He never thought he would ever start to harbor feelings for anyone really and yet here he was, looking somberly at the empty chair beside him. He honestly didn’t know how much longer he could bear this unwelcoming loneliness without you there to annoy him with your silly little quips and your sweet little smile that would light up the entire room whenever you greeted him. His heart flutters at the idea of potentially confessing his intentions toward you, hoping that you would share the same sentiments, but there was only one way of knowing and he was growing eager for your return.

You of course had written him several letters, you detailing how your mother was doing quite well despite your concerns and he in return described, albeit exaggerating, how your students managed to not destroy the greenhouses despite their clumsiness. He received your most recent owl only yesterday and he was delighted to see that you would be back in no less than two days time, but it seems that the hours were dragging on and on against his favor.

With a withering sigh, Severus stood to resign from the assembly of his fellow colleagues and made the long trek back to his office to continue and hopefully complete grading the towering pile of parchments that lingered on his desk. The empty hallways were too quiet for his liking as he missed the unnecessary small talk you would have had with him and it only reminded him of your absence even more. It only made his scowl grow deeper and he began to wonder what you were doing at this precise moment, but he soon found out what that answer entailed as he opened the door to his office and stepped through the threshold of the dimly lit space.

There you were as plain as day, sitting in the rickety chair behind his desk with your hands tucked under your chin and that sweet little smile upon your face that he adored so much, as if you were expecting him all along.

“Hi there,” You couldn’t help but grin at the sight of him and the butterflies in your stomach only fluttered even more as he looked upon you in such surprise with those dark and twinkling eyes of his. You were hoping to get that sort of reaction and you tried with all your might to remain calm, but you were rejoicing from the inside at your little triumph.

Severus’s brain must have short circuited before he could give you a sarcastic reply in response, but you were too quick for him to keep up as you crossed the room to stand in front of him. He gazed down at you and he was entranced by your bright eyes for what seemed longer than was appropriate and he was confused by the worried look that replaced your smile he was so used to seeing all the time.

“Is something wrong, Severus?” Your voice sounded so timid and gloomy and he wanted to rectify that matter as quickly as he could to once again behold your cheerful expression.

“N-no, nothing is wrong, Y/N. I’m just surprised to see you, gladly, of course. I wasn’t expecting you for the next couple of days is all.” He wanted nothing more than to grab ahold of you and never let go in fear of you disappearing again, but he remained stoic in fear of not wanting to further upset you with any sudden actions.

“Oh, well, that’s alright. My mother kept insisting that she was fine and that I was wasting my time on being bothered over her health, so she sent me on my way and I figured I would come back early. I’m sorry if I startled you, I guess I should have let you know before I came back.”

“Don’t be, I’m just glad to see you back in one piece.” Severus then finally smiled, his posture softening for a brief moment before he tensed up again as you embraced him tightly. The familiar scent of your perfume engulfed his senses and he let out a soft sigh of content.

But before he could even think of the next action to take, he instinctively held your head against his chest and stroked your hair through his nimble fingers. You pulled away from him and he realized just how close you were to each other and froze, his arm still around your waist and his hand still grasping at your head. It was as if time stood still as he gazed at you longingly and without another thought, he leaned in to capture your lips in a tender kiss.

This caught you off guard for only a second, but you were quick to reciprocate his affections and kissed him languidly, wanting to savor this moment for as long as you could before you both ended the connection. Severus then rested his forehead against yours as you both caught your breath, the small puffs of air that fanned over your face warmed your cheeks even further than your rising blush ever could and smelled distinctly of mulled wine and something that could only be described as him. It was now a permanent addiction you would surely never get tired of.

“I-I um, was hoping to beat you to that first, but that was even better than I expected.” You chuckled sheepishly.

“You-you’re not angry with me?” Severus whispered, his breath hitching in the back of his throat.

“Of course not,” You voice in a hushed tone, reaching up to cup his face and stroke at his cheek gently. “I’ve been wanting to tell you how I feel about you for so long, but I was afraid you would be upset with me and it would ruin our friendship.”

He breathes a sigh of relief at your words and is overjoyed that you have the same desire for him as he does for you. He never would have known that someone would ever like him, let alone wanting to show him that he deserved to be loved in any manner after all of the heartache he has endured in the past. Yet here he was, with you in his arms as you shared more soft and sweet kisses, never wanting to part from you again.

“The feeling is mutual. But I can’t begin to tell you how delighted I am to have you here with me, just like this.” Severus sighs happily, placing a kiss atop your head as he hugs you tightly to his frame.

“Well, maybe we could go to my chambers for a nightcap and start there?” You bite your lip, still nervous with anticipation at the prospect of the Severus Snape confessing his true feelings towards you.

“I would like that very much,” Severus murmurs, taking a hold of your hand as the two of you walk down to your room like you were giddy schoolchildren once more.

#alan rickman #harry potter #severus snape #severus snape x reader #severus x y/n #severus x reader #pro snape #pro severus #fluff #legilimens library

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lauriegraham01 · 1 month

Text

you're still around | natasha romanoff

pairings: natasha romanoff x gn!reader (one instance where it can be interpreted as fem!reader)

summary: "i know better but i still feel you all around." you never envisioned a life spent with natasha, so what do you do now that the aftershocks of her death has uprooted your life?

wc: 2.5k

a/n: I cannot speak of my grief over natasha, so enjoy this instead! + this is me cleaning out my drafts so im sorry if quality is trash </3

You never loved the beach. You never loved the beach until you met her.

Having been assigned on a mission together in Los Angeles, you found yourself on the sand far more times than you cared for.

"Oh, you're being ridiculous it's not that bad."

"I'd rather die."

Even behind her tinted aviators, there was no denying that signature playful glint shinning in her eyes. She loved how you had a flair for the dramatics, always teasing how she's the only one who could ever put up with it.

"Look, it's only for a couple of hours until we make sure that Stavros meets his guys here."

"And not a second more."

Hours slipped away as you two soaked up the sun. You could live in this moment forever. The sound of waves crashing against the shore matched the ferocity of your heart beating in your chest. You were full of love, consumed by it. Yet how could you not.

The way her sun-kissed skin seemed to soak up the sun, how her hair danced in the gentle ocean breeze, and how peaceful she looked as she she slept in the sand.

You feared the inevitable- dreaded it even. Yet lying next to her, unable to look away, you knew it was too late.

Your bond only continued to grow, spending more time both on and off the clock. Using any excuse to be near each other in hopes of learning something new, even though that seemed impossible. Natasha was the first person you felt like you could be completely open and honest with. You were surprised yet relieved when she told you she felt the same way.

Things in those days were still fresh, you both were equally fully of worry and reservation. The fear of ruining an already incredible bond preventing either of you from pursuing something greater. There was a silent understanding of this- despite the circumstance, you and Natasha continued on as you knew best. Pushing each other to be greater, being each others cheerleader, and truly wanting the best for each other after seeing the potential you both possessed.

Each moment shared together played on repeat in your mind until you could see her again. Late nights spent sparring in the gym, pool games at dive bars, and endless romcom movie marathons that only were only respected by Wanda.

The endless messages exchanged during meeting whenever Steve would go on forever. The getaways spent upstate thanks to Natasha swiping the keys to one of Tony's many many cars. The late night spent revealing sins to each others, and the darkest memories and fears that haunted us. The comfort that lasted till morning when you awoke to another sunrise wrapped in each other's arms. Each moment spent with her was truly magical.

You felt yourself falling deeper in love with Natasha with each passing day. You had reached a point where you couldn't remember life without her by your side, and the thought of having to go back to that terrified you both.

"I don't want this to be what splits us." Running your hands over your face, a tired sigh escaped your lips. The stress of the Sokovia Accords had everyone on edge and you and Natasha were no exception.

"I don't see why it has to," Natasha exaggerated. Her patience growing thinner after the countless back and forth and still not seeing eye to eye.

"You know why," you objected sharply. "it's not right, Nat. You know that." Your eyes met her with an unwavering look of defiance. There was no swaying you to change your mind. She always knew you were so stubborn.

"I know," she admitted.

"Then why are you signing?!" Throwing your hands in frustration you don't immediately notice the boom in your voice as you spoke.

It wasn't until Natasha swallowed thickly before averting her gaze towards the ground that you realized your mistake. Your shoulders slump as you let out a tired sigh. You felt that you were at a crossroads, and there was no right answer in which way you moved.

"I want us to stay together, it doesn't matter how," she emphasized, the edge in her voice unmistaken as she enunciated each word. Green eyes looked up at me through silky lashes, behind a determined look I saw the sadness in the mist of green eyes.

In that moment you felt all your fears cement into reality. You knew there was no way both of you could win and your heart broke as you both pledged your allegiance to opposing sides of another mans war.

Looking up at her you saw the same exact heartbreak in her eyes. You reached your breaking point, as the room seemed to close in you bolted out of your seat and aimed for the door. As your hand squeezed the handle, you hesitated- for a brief second. You didn't want to walk out on her, it was the last thing you ever though of doing.

Sparing her a final look, you see the stoic expression on her face. You always knew she was stubborn, but the hardened expression on her face only further proved what you already knew. There was no changing her mind, just as much as there wasn't changing any yours.

"It does to me."

You fought on opposing sides of a pointless war. When the dust settled, there was no morning glory to be found in its aftermath. Just bitter resentment and heartache as the family you've fought beside for years was no more.

Now considered an enemy of the state, you fled the country, not knowing if you would ever come back. By the time Steve had told you how Natasha helped him and Bucky flee, it was already too late. You were thousands of miles away and burned too many bridges that could never be crossed over again.

You thought about writing, but what could you say? Too much was said and done last, you didn't think there was ever coming back from that. You spent the next two years trying to erase the memory of her. Proving quite difficult as you saw her in everything, her love still being the fire that kept you warm even miles away.

You dreamt of a time where you would come face to face with her again. You've rehearsed the apologies you would say and the confessions you would lay bare if you ever were to see her face again. Yet all that flew out of the window as she stood in front of you, finding you amidst the crowded market square.

"Natasha?" Despite her hair now blonde and much shorter, you still could recognize her face in any crowd.

"Just shut up." She said, catching you off guard.

Taken aback, you sighed deeply as you gave her your full attention. Taking in her full appearance, you note her lose tank and green skirt that flowed with the summers breeze. You don't think you've ever seen her in something that colorful. Despite all the changes, she's still Natasha. You still saw the girl you fell in love with all those years ago on that beach.

The crease between her eyebrow reveals how Natasha seemed deep in thought. Hesitant to speak what's on her mind as she darted between your eyes, weighing her options.

"I never wanted to rely on anyone for anything," she began. "I thought that if I could be independent and alone then I could avoid the pain that comes from losing people."

Fidgeting with her fingers and from the bite marks on her lip, you sensed the urgency behind her words.

"I don't wanna live like that anymore," she confessed urgently. As if she could no longer bear having such a brilliant truth hidden for a second longer. "I love you y/n. I think I have for a long time now but I was just too scared to admit it- and I know things are complicated but i'm ready for this. I want this. I want us-" Stopping suddenly, feeling breathless the longer she looked in your eyes. "You. I want you."

"I love you."

Time seemed to slow down in that moment. The sound of thousands of people packed in the Brazilian market faded to nothing as you looked at her, her words echoing in your head. If Nat had felt even an ounce of relief from getting the truth of her chest, her face didn't show it. She had this look on her face, you studied for it moment before you realized what it was- fear.

She thought you would walk away. That you would scoff at her confession, see through her for what she thought she was, flawed.

She couldn't have been farther from truth. Her eyebrows furrowed in mix of shock and confusion when she felt a finger tilting her chin upward. Swallowing thickly, she awaited cruel rejection. However, seeing the adoration behind your eyes, she let herself believe that maybe there was some room for redemption. The corner of her lip curled upwards before the both of broke into breathless laughs, the twinkle in her eyes making your heart soar as it sang Natasha's name.

"I love you too."

After that, you never knew a life without Natasha. Having fought in Wakanda and losing so much during The Blip, you two became each other's anchor.

Never wanting to be away from her again, you moved back to New York. You helped direct the remaining Avengers as missions were still executed and help was needed everywhere. Despite the darkness that the world was wrapped up in, you and Natasha were each other's lighthouse, guiding each other back to shore.

It wasn't until Scott came barging on the compounds door and the the rest of the team got together for the time heist that hope would shine for the first time in a long time.

"Are you sure you don't want me to come instead," you lowly ask as you and the rest of the team prepare for the time heist.

"I'm gonna pretend to not be offended by that." Clint chimed in as he made his way past us.

"Shut up Barty, please!" He throws his hands up in surrender as he's met by your annoyed gaze. You don't miss hearing Bruce chuckle as he typed away on the control panels.

Facing Natasha again, you're met with her amused smile as she looked up at you.

"I promise I'll be fine," she insisted. "Clint's got my back-right Barty?!"

Clint just grunts in acknowledgment.

"Trust me?" Raising her eyebrows as she lifted her open palm toward you.

Taking her hand and turning it over, you placed a chaste kiss onto it.

"Damn right I do," you say, never breaking eye contact.

Not missing the way her cheeks flushed at the sudden gesture you bring her in and capture her lips in a soft kiss. Earning a wolf-whistle from Tony in the process.

As you all stood in a circle on the platform, ready to go back in time in hopes of bringing everyone back, your eyes meet Natasha's again. Heart fluttering as it did everytime you looked at her.

"See you in a minute." Her eyes glimmering as she smiled at you.

Those words replayed in your head in a constant loop for months. You never got to say goodbye, and that's what killed you the most.

You never were good with grief, and having lost so many people because of Thanos, you spiraled into a depression that lasted the better half of a year.

Yet when you were ready to face that grief, it was Yelena who was there for you. She was one of the few people around who understood what it meant to lose Natasha. To have known and loved her so intimately, and have that taken away.

Staring out into the same sea at the same beach where you first fell for your blue-jeaned baby, as comforting hand on your shoulder shakes you from your thoughts. Startled by the sudden presence your eyes look up frantically to meet with Yelena's concerning gaze.

"Hey," her voice soft, "you okay?"

"Hey-um, yeah, i'm fine really." You shake your head furiously as you blink away your tears. Meeting her eyes again, the love and sincerity that poured behind Yelena's eyes was enough to make the damn burst.

"No," you croak as a sob wracks itself out of your body. Engulfing you in her arms, you burrow your head in Yelena's shoulder as grief's uncharted weight washes over you.

"I know what she meant to you. She told me about a month after taking down the Red Room. I never would've taken her for a U-hual lesbian."

A laugh escapes your lips. Looking back on it, things did happen rather quickly. After taking down Dreykov, she felt a new found purpose in life, a need to reconnect with family and loved ones.

"Yeah, well it was a long time coming," you let out softly. You pull out of her arms, wiping away at your dried tears.

"Thank you, Yelena. I know what she meant to you too."

You don't miss the sadness that flickers in Yelena's eyes.

"She meant to look for you earlier. She told me about you while staying at one of Tony's safe house", you sigh reflecting on the confessions said that night. The fire and a shared bottle of whiskey having kept you both warm that night. "She never stopped thinking about you."

"I know," she affirms, voice shaky. "Thank you."

You offer her a soft smile, eyes crinkling as you giver her arm a reassuring squeeze. Yelena then locks arms with you, a sudden peace washing over you like the waves ashore you were watching.

"Are you gonna be okay?" Looking over at her, you note the blonde wisps of hair that moved with the wind.

"Are any of us?" She doubled back with a smirk, earning a chuckle from you.

A brief silence falls over you two. One full of reluctant acceptance as it is with sadness.

"I promised I wouldn't say goodbye." You barely heard her. You almost thought you hadn't from how low she spoke.

Looking back towards the water, if you didn't know any better you'd think she was still around. If you thought about it long enough, you could still make out Natasha's footprints scattered across the sand. Or how graceful she looked dancing in the sand.

You could hear the sweetness of her laughter as not even the call of the seagulls could sing a finer melody.

You can still feel the warmth of her pirate smile, shinning bright as she looked at you from over her shoulder.

As the wind picked up you closed your eyes and let the memories of your sweet summers spent with Natasha flash before you. If you didn't know any better, you'd think she was talking to you now. Through the way the wind echoed her whispers of "I love you."

Opening your eyes, the warmth and love of those memories still sprout inside you, even as your met with the sight of the beach's barren winter. She's still here, always with me.

"Maybe you don't have to."

You know better, but you still feel her all around.

#marvel #marvel fanfiction #black widow #black widow x reader #natasha romanoff #natasha romanov #natasha x reader #natasha x you #natasha x gn!reader #natasha romonova

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heartbreakgrill · 3 months

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Delicate: Vessel (Sleep Token); Pt. 5, "Is it cool that I said all that?"

A week passed, just like that. We had flown to Germany at the beginning of the next week, where we’d be for just fourteen days before we’d move onto France.

Oliver and I didn’t have many chances to see one another. We were always on different wavelengths. Him, with rehearsals, vocal rests, writing sessions. Me, with the delicacies of travel. The only times we really saw each other were during breakfast or dinner, two places he’d been making a point to show up to. No one really noticed his newfound presence- no one but me, considering it seemed to previously be a way for him to spite my very existence.

His first appearance happened the very next morning after our conversation on the bus. After he kissed me like he was going off to battle, we rode the elevator up our floor, departed at my door, and just an hour later, he ended up texting me goodnight. That message alone was enough to have my heart beating crazily.

The next morning, I was still feeling that aftershock while sitting at the breakfast table, talking to Ronnie about her brother’s baby. The elevator doors dinged, opening up like the literal gates of heaven. I barely paid any mind because everyone who normally came to breakfast was already seated at our table. But, I did spare a glance and caught sight of his dark figure, slinking towards us. I gave a second look, stumbling over whatever it was I had been saying to Ronnie. I covered up my stutter by clearing my throat, but she didn’t really notice, nor did she seem to care. Oliver sat at the end of the table, greeting everyone with his same simple nod. My heart was going again.

I tried not to stare, tried not to even look at him for fear of melting on the spot, even when I felt his eyes burning into my face. I was blushing, bright red. My knee shook, nervously, under the table as I brushed my hair from my cheeks, behind my ears. I caught his eye from the corner of my own and he smiled, ever so slightly.

I was done for, I knew it.

It became a delight to see him at these meals, even if we never got the chance to speak to each other; even if, afterwards, he’d shoot back upstairs to his room. That was always my favorite part, when he disappeared from the table because, shortly after, he’d text me.

Something like:

Oliver: your hair looked pretty today.

Daisy: you looked alright 🤷

Oliver: wooooooow

I compliment you and this is how you treat me

Daisy: oh im so super sorry

Oliver, you are so handsome and gorgeous and amazing and awesome

Better?

Oliver: sure, sure

That’s where most of our conversation took place, over text, especially that first week that whatever this was began to take place.

He’d text me good morning and good night, nearly every single day. He’d ask how my day was, ask me what sort of plans I had. I kept waiting for this question to evolve into another one, something like, “Wanna hang out later?” I’d settle for a damn booty call, if that’s what he wanted. I tried not to get frustrated when that first week drug on, knowing he was insanely busy. I couldn’t expect him to drop everything else and prioritize me. But, a small part of me hoped he would.

I just wanted a little bit more of his attention.

Luckily, I- eventually- got it.

We were in Germany for the next week. We flew out from Italy that Sunday, settled into our hotel in the early afternoon. I hadn’t planned anything for that Monday, hoping to just rest a bit, leisure across the city, maybe. I knew, too, that the band was off that day. Maybe a small part of me was making sure I was available in case he wanted to grace me with his presence. I wouldn’t admit it, though, because it just wasn’t healthy.

But, my hopes amounted to something.

At first, things seemed to regress. There were no messages from him on my phone.

I thought about texting him first, but I felt strange doing so, like he’d be annoyed if I reached out instead. I then tried to ignore the sinking feeling that this put in my chest. Maybe he was done with me. Maybe he realized that this wasn’t ever going anywhere, especially considering we hadn’t so much as had an in-person conversation in a week. Luckily, I hadn’t slept with him.

My mind began racing too much, so I pulled myself out of bed and started getting ready for the day. Sam was already gone. He told me yesterday that he, Cy, Adam, and Ronnie had made plans to go do something. He offered me to come with, but I really wanted to just laze about. There was an infinity pool and today was going to be one of the warmest days of the summer for this country. Soaking up the sun seemed like a good way to truly relax.

So, I put on a bathing suit, slipped a sundress overtop, and rubbed sunscreen all over myself. I wasn’t about to battle a sunburn on top of jet lag. Then, I packed my purse with my water bottle, my latest book, headphones, and my wallet. Just as I went to grab my phone, sling my towel over my shoulder, head out, a knock came from the door.

I turned to the sound with furrowed brows. Housekeeping wasn’t supposed to come until we told them to. And, as far as I knew, we hadn’t scheduled a cleaning.

“Who is it?” I called out, stepping towards the door.

“It’s me,” a low voice responded, hushed in volume.

A thrilling excitement suddenly rushed through my veins. I tried not to rush over to the door and instead, forced myself to take slow steps. I set a hand on the handle, already feeling a shake in my bones. Just being this close to him pulled some sort of chemical reaction out of me.

The door opened and Oliver turned his head straight, to really look at me. He had been checking over his shoulder, paranoid about any passerbyers. As soon as he saw me, he grinned, wide. Then, he didn’t hesitate to shove me back into the room, his hands on my hips, his lips grasping for mine. He threw the door shut behind him.

It took me a second to find my footing. But, when I did, I became desperate, hungry. I tugged at the front of his hoodie in an attempt to get him as close to me as physically possible. Oliver ran a hand up my hip, across the front of my body, between my breasts, up around my neck. His fingers were slotted just beneath either side of my jaw. He pressed down, ever so slightly, to ensure my mouth stayed on his.

As he kissed me, I could tell he was basically starved. This was even more evident when he nipped my bottom lip, drawing just the thinnest drop of blood. I moaned, involuntarily, at the feeling of his teeth pulling at my skin, though it was only for a millisecond.

Oliver reared his head back, looking down at me with furrowed brows. He processed what had just happened, assisted by the size of my pupils and the way my lips sat, open, waiting for him to come back. A smirk twisted onto his lips, “Oh, darling…”

He pulled me back in, running his tongue across my bottom lip to clear the blood. My knees were weak. Luckily, he moved, so that he was sitting on the bed and tugged me down into his lap again. He didn’t hesitate to grab my ass, grip on my throat tightening a bit. He moved his lips to my cheek as his movements became painfully slow.

“You’re so pretty, Daisy,” he whispered against the apple of my cheek. I felt his eyelids flutter across my skin as he moved away from my lips. I nearly shivered at the goosebumps, a stark contrast to the heat pooling all over my body.

He moved his other hand to my neck, too, brushing the hair down over the back of my shoulder. In doing so, he placed his hand back where it had been. Then, his lips made their way to my bare skin, right where my neck curved into my shoulder. His sweet, soft kisses suddenly turned into small nips, his teeth tugging at my skin.

I squeaked at the first one, but, then, as he carried on down my neck, I found pleasure in the nipping pain. I gripped at his shoulders, a hand moving to his hair, as my desperation took over my body. I couldn’t sit still anymore. I ground my hips down into his, eliciting a huffed breath from Oliver. I wanted to grin at the power I knew I had over him, but I really just wanted to stay as I was- putty in his hands. I didn’t want any control. I was his to use, his to manipulate. I would do whatever.

But, I did find a little bit of a rhythm in my hips, if only because I needed the friction. I was motivated when I knew it was making him feel good, too. As I did so, Oliver’s lips came to my skin again. They caressed the edge of my earlobe, where I could hear his sweet breathlessness.

“Daisy,” he whispered, nearly moaning my name into my ear.

I shuddered a sharp, audible breath at the sound of this. I couldn’t take it anymore. I needed him- everywhere. The anticipation, all of these long weeks- even just this one- it was killing me.

I pressed my forehead against the side of his head, whispering my own words into his ear, “Oliver, please!”

He finally listened. His hand found the bottom hem of my sundress and he quickly tore it from my head. It landed somewhere across the room. Eyes still dropped shut, I went blindly for his hoodie. But, Oliver caught my hands in his, stretching my arms out on either side of us.

I opened my eyes curiously, brows furrowed. His gaze was dragging itself down my swimsuit-clad body, a sly grin on his lips. I blushed at the look on his face and wanted to pull my arms back around myself. But, he held me open. He kept admiring.

“Daisy, darling,” he rolled his eyes back up, over my chest, until he met my stare. A wider grin stretched across his face. “Daisy…you are gorgeous.”

I scrunched up my nose and looked down at our laps. He dropped our hands and took my face in his hold, pulling my eyes back to his. “Don’t do that. We’re not gonna do that, okay? Even if you have to pretend, I won’t let you be ashamed of yourself when we do this, okay? You are…so fucking beautiful.”

I took a deep breath as the sincerity of his words sunk into my skin. I nodded slightly.

Oliver eyed my lips and slowly leaned back into me. This kiss was different. The hunger, the ferocity, slowed. It was almost…loving, gentle. But, then, I moved my hands back to his hair, tugged slightly, and he went back to ravishing me.

I helped Oliver shed his hoodie. Then, I had my turn, admiring his toned chest, scarce of any dark makeup. I didn’t have to say anything to him. I knew that he could read all of my thoughts through my eyes.

What I wanted to say, but couldn’t quite find the words to, was that he was something out of a Greek myth, something untouchable. Something that would never be real.

I drug my fingers down his chest as he kissed me again. I undid his belt. When I tugged at his jeans, I found my footing on the floor, moving off of him, so he could stand to pull the pants down. His hands were back on my body in an instant. Though he began to tug me back on his lap, I had my own plans. Just as I began to crouch down to his knees, Oliver opened his mouth to protest, but-

A knock sounded from the door, followed by a taunting, “Daisy…”

Shit.

Max.

My spine straightened so fast, I thought it would snap in half. Mine and Oliver’s head whipped towards the door, my own gaze widened with utter shock. Oliver formed a fist with his hand, punching the palm of his other in slow defeat.

He looked back to me, fear in his pupils, “What the fuck?”

I shrugged defensively, bewildered. I went to whisper back when Max spoke again. “Daisyyyyyy, darling- I know you’re awake. Was wondering if you wanted to hang today, since we’re both free. Cmon, open up-“ he rapped his knuckles against the door again.

Everything occurred in a desperate haste: Oliver rounded up his clothes, arms stuffed full of them, within five seconds flat. I tracked down his shoes as he did so. Then, I nearly pushed him onto the floor of the bathroom. He stumbled on his feet, barely catching himself on the counter. As the door fell shut, he shot me a panicked, worrisome expression that I could only scrunch my face up at. I didn’t know what he wanted me to do, but he was acting like someone was here to murder him.

I went to the door, sweating a bit, and lay a shaky hand upon the knob. Then, I realized I was half-naked and rushed to pull my dress back on. Before he could knock again, I let Max in, hoping I looked anything but suspicious.

As soon as he came into view, Max was elbowing his way inside. He held a tray with two drinks and a small brown pouch that wafted a delicious smell past me.

He carried an energy that was far too excited for my current nervous stature. “Good morning, darling! Sleep well? I sure did. What are your plans for the day? I’m thinking we lounge out by the pool for a few hours, maybe catch a late lunch, then hit the town? Drop by a few bars? Maybe we can round up the rest of the group, force Oliver out of his self-inflicted prison, have some fun? Yeah?”

As he spoke, Max moved around the room, unloading one of the drinks into my hands, picking out a few napkins, presenting a pastry on the small desk in the corner, seating himself onto the bed all casually with a leg crossed over the other. When he finished, he took a slow sip of his coffee, brows raised expectantly

I toyed with the lid on my drink, eyes darting nervously towards the bathroom. I knew it wasn’t true, but I almost felt like I could hear Oliver’s breathing. Smell his cologne. I worried Max would, too.

Everything would be over.

“Um-“ I cleared my throat. Then, I tried to relax my shoulders and approach Max with a friendly smile. “Yeah! Yeah, that could be fun. I was planning on going down to the pool anyway.”

“Wonderful, darling,” Max approved, “Well, why don’t you go ahead and finish getting ready and we’ll get going.”

I looked around me, trying to remember where I had left off this morning, when Oliver had barged in and interrupted my routine.

“I just need to grab my stuff, actually. I was heading out the door before O-“ I cut myself off from my explanation, lips pinched together in a way that I could only assume looked quite guilty. I swallowed thickly, ashamedly glancing towards the bathroom again. I tried to save myself, “before you started knocking, ha! What a coincidence!”

“Coincidence…” Max followed my glancing gaze. I snapped my eyes back forward, and he met me there. The edges of his pupils seemed to squint, like he was reading between the lines, but he didn’t say anything else. “Well! To the pool we go!”

We were in the clear…for now.

Oliver: i am so fucking sorry

Hes a prick

So fucking daft

God

I love him

But what a bloody idiot

Daisy: LMFAO

I dont even know what to say

I feel bad for you!!

Theres gonna be a witch hunt for you if anyone ever figures it out

Oliver: god dont remind me

Youre so worth it though

We spent hours poolside, like two beached whales, glistening with sweet sweat on our shoulders and sunscreen in our skin. I dipped into the water infrequently, if only to cool myself down, but spent most of my time finishing up a book (texting Oliver between its pages). I cursed Max for his lightly tinted shades, praying to whatever God above that he wasn’t side-eyeing me, that he couldn't see my illicit grins, my quick thumbs.

I tried to get Oliver to come hang out with us. If I couldn't have him to myself, I’d take small doses of him with others. But, as vampiric as he was, laying by the pool was just not something he wanted to do. Besides, in his own words:

Oliver: I just wouldn't be able to be so close to you without doing something

Especially with you in that little bit of cloth you call a swimsuit

I should be a dick and make you squirm

Make you think about me while you’re all peaceful by the pool

Make you think about my hands

My teeth

Daisy: Oliver…

Asshole

Oliver: sorry, darling

But after that incident with the cake?

And that bathing suit

Yeah i think it's my turn

(1 attached photo)

The heat outside was nothing compared to what I felt in my chest. I ensured my jaw was shut tightly, unwilling to let the saliva pooled in my mouth dribble down my chin. Then, I scrounged through my photo albums, cursing myself for having deleted my most intimate photos. Instead, I had to just stare (drool) at the one he’d sent- his hand, his bare stomach, the very edges of his pitch black boxers.

I would never lose this game- I just couldn't. But, in this moment, I was! While I liked being submissive in the end, I enjoyed being the one doing the teasing. That slight upper hand I got from it gave me a headrush. I was, I guess…bratty.

So, I watched Max carefully from the corner of my vision, thankful for my tiny bathing suit. I could make do- if he’d just leave. He was reading his own novel, hunched over a little bit. It had been a while since he’d gone to the bathroom or really even moved. He had to eventually.

My wishing on invisible stars worked because Max excused himself to the bathroom. He first paused to ensure I was doing okay. I thanked him for his concern with an urgent smile, quick nod of my head. And then he was gone.

Daisy: I really don’t get what all this fuss is about. I think this suit covers me up just fine, don’t ya think?

(1 attached photo)

Oliver: behave, miss thing

You have no idea what’s waiting for you

Daisy: sure, sure

Needless to say, Oliver put me on the very edge of my seat all day. I only had the one photo that was taken in the heat of the moment. He had…an empty hotel room and an imagination like any other. He never let me see past those stupid boxers though, holding out on me to only intensify that anticipation.

As was Max’s plan, we grabbed a late lunch. I had hoped we’d change beforehand, but he was so hungry, we had to rush out of the hotel. And, as per usual with Max, he took his good old time eating, strolling leisurely, dropping by every single shop that caught his eye. Don’t get me wrong- it was a lot of fun. I was grateful to have some one-on-one time with him.

But, I knew what- who was waiting for me back at the hotel. So, I was a little distracted.

Eventually, the day was coming to a close. No one really wanted to go out drinking because the band had rehearsals early in the morning. Instead, we were all going to meet up for a light dinner in the hotel bar.

I tried to escape Max as soon as we entered the hotel, but he insisted on walking me to my room. Meanwhile, Oliver was shooting me a dozen messages- he was in his room, he didn’t have a shirt on, and he was waiting for even the shortest possible breath that he could take at my lips.

Max stood outside my door, yapping about some shop lady who had made a joke to us earlier. He kept laughing, kept going over the punchline. It was funny, sure, but I was literally trying to close the door between us, a forced smile aching on my cheeks. We had to be at dinner in just half an hour and I needed to shower. I would sacrifice all that time for Oliver, but I was sure I smelled of sunscreen and sweat. I needed to rush under the hot water, and then rush into his arms.

“Ha! Can you imagine? What kind of-” Max kept going.

I faked another laugh, positive that one of my eyelids was winking shut, visibly displaying the max level of insanity that I felt right now. I took another step back into my room, preparing to bid farewell.

Luckily, Max caught sight of the time. “Holy shit, Daz,” he looked up from his watch, “it’s so late! Sorry to cut our wonderful day short, but we better hit the showers before everyone wonders where we’re at.”

“Ah! Good idea!” I bumped the heel of my hand against my head, shock on my face. Then, I pushed up onto my tiptoes to give him a short kiss to the cheek, “Thank you for today. I really just had the best time ever! Love you, Max!”

Then, as he began to respond, “Aw, darling, me, too! I love you-” I shut the door on him, “Oh- yep! I’ll see you in a bit!”

The speed at which I moved through that hotel room was sure to rip the carpet up off of the floor. I kicked off my sandals, sending one right into the window. It made a loud clanking noise, which I flinched at, before landing on Sam’s bed. But then I was already moving onto my sundress, tearing it off, ripping my swimsuit down my legs, over my head. Once those were off, I jumped in the shower, grateful that I didn’t need to wash my hair so I could do a quick rinse.

I was back out of the shower as quickly as I’d gotten in, doing my hair up into a claw clip, pulling on an outfit that didn’t require much thought, but was still concise enough to be cute. I barely had my phone and purse in hand before I was shooting across the hall, like a chicken crossing the road.

Oliver opened the door before I could even take a breath, tugging me in by my hips.

He had my back pressed up against the door, one of his spare hands already holding the base of my throat like a goddamn rosary. His dark eyes stared down at me, hungry, like he was about to consume every inch of my flesh. I went to say something, brows already lifted on my face in their devious position. In the process, my hands fished for him, grabbing at his shirt.

In one easy moment, Oliver grabbed both of my wrists, stretching my arms up and above my head. He squeezed my throat, ensuring my eyes were on his. My back arched from the movement, my chest pushing through the air as a small whine escaped my lips subconsciously.

Oliver drug his eyes down my body, smirking pleasedly at the movement he drew from my body. “We have five minutes. Shut the fuck up and be a good girl for me, yeah?”

“Okay.”

We weren’t really being realistic about how much time we would get together.

Two minutes later, Oliver was on his knees below me, his large hands bruising either one of my thighs, my hands were entangled in his hair, my underwear were somewhere far across the room, and his breath was ghosting my core. Just as he inched painfully, teasingly closer, someone was knocking on his door.

It was my turn to hide as Adam and Cyrus ushered Oliver from his hotel room, excitedly telling him about some new song they’d just heard. After ensuring in the bathroom mirror that I didn’t look disheveled, I watched through the peephole as they neared the elevators. Oliver peered over his shoulder, the smallest of smiles on his lips. I rolled my eyes. Of course he’d find it funny- he was winning again.

Then, when the hallway seemed clear, I quickly left his room and tried to casually make my way down to the dining room.

Oliver was trying not to laugh, I just knew it- his lips were pressed together, a humored look in his eyes as he pretended to be occupied with the potatoes he mashed around with his dinner fork. I glared at him as I approached the table.

Then, Sam was talking to me, asking me and Max about our busy day and I had to pretend like their best friend hadn’t just been on his knees for me.

This was killing me.

Surely, I thought to myself as dinner came to a close and everyone began heading to bed, surely we would find the time. Surely our luck wasn’t that bad. We’d get some time alone- we just had to.

So, as the elevator that Sam, Ronnie, and I caught closed, and carried us to the fifth floor, I quickly texted Oliver. I crossed my fingers behind my back, hoping, praying, wishing this would work.

Daisy: soon as Sam goes to bed, i can be over

A heavy heat of anticipation sat right on top of my chest, shooting off butterflies in my stomach, making me breathless when I said goodnight to Ronnie.

I waited, patiently, for about an hour- no, exactly an hour and ten minutes. I waited an hour and ten minutes for Oliver to text me back. I stared at the numbers in the top middle of my phone screen as I pretended to read a book. Then, when Sam lay down and shut off all the lights, I rolled onto my side, the dim glow of my screen filling my corner of the room. My eyes glazed over numerous times while each little number morphed into the next. Slowly but painfully surely, the delightful anticipation began to dissipate.

I really wanted to be chill, to be normal and casual and just…go to bed. Accept that maybe he had fallen asleep, maybe his phone had died. Pretend like there wasn’t a small hole sinking in my stomach.

But, I saw him begin typing forty minutes in.

And then he stopped.

And I still waited another half an hour for him to respond.

He never did.

The next morning, I was able to forget about it.

I focused on the productive conversation we’d had in the bus, the one where he set a boundary with me, where he told me he couldn’t really offer me much in terms of connection or romance. The one where I practically begged him to just have me in whatever way he could.

And, I forced myself to stop worrying about the fact that he never responded. The world, after all, did not revolve around me. I needed to be reminded of that and have patience with him. Besides, I wasn’t going to allow myself to feel that- disappointment. Small bits of heartbreak. This meant basically nothing, right? We were just hooking up, hanging out. It wasn’t that big of a deal, like we discussed.

I’m chill with that.

I ate breakfast with the band, discussing with Ronnie some of the best tourist attractions that she suggested I seek out. Oliver was a little late this morning, feet dragging a bit. When I saw him round the corner to the dining room, I sat up just a bit. He seemed tired as he took a seat at the opposite end of the table, hoodie up, as per usual. He didn’t really touch any of his food, but instead nursed a cup of tea. So, I ignored the sinking feeling that came when he didn’t even look at me.

He showed up. That’s what really mattered.

I tried not to be distracted as Ronnie told me about some sort of monument, but it was a struggle when my concern for Oliver was as relevant as it was. There was just something off about him…and it almost felt like it had to do with us, with me. Or maybe I was just reading into things a little too much. Again.

Everyone else finished up their breakfast before me. So, the group broke off before long, a few headed out the door to the venue, some up to their rooms to grab last minute items. I watched as Oliver straggled behind Adam and Cyrus, towards the elevators. When he first stood to follow them, I tried to meet his eye, tried to shoot him a reassuring, encouraging smile. He evaded my gaze. My shoulders dropped a little.

When they were out of sight, I took my phone out and grappled with texting him. I felt like I should, just to see if he was okay. But, then, the part of me that knew there was nothing serious between us fought against that want. It wasn’t weird, right? If I texted him, just to see how he’s doing?

But, then, come to think of it…he never even said good morning to me. So he probably just wanted to be left alone. I should probably just read the signs he was clearly giving and just provide him with some space. He didn’t need me up his ass at every waking moment, constantly expressing my concern for his every move. Especially not after the conversation we’d just had.

I felt a little insecure, a little worried, going back over every interaction we’d had like I was responsible for a grown man’s feelings. I pushed aside the overthinking my brain was ruminating on and decided to just get up, to just get started with my day.

This thing between us was not going to work out if I overanalyzed his every breath, if I let it all get to me. I needed to chill out- just be chill. Cool.

I headed for the elevators, purse slung over my shoulder. The doors were already opened, so I stepped inside. When I faced forward, Oliver was there, following me in, my name barely a greeting off his lips.

“Daisy…”

“Oliver, hey-”

He interrupted me, lips on mine before I could even take a breath. I was taken aback, just briefly, before getting swept up in his soft touches, his hungry mouth. My purse slid off my shoulder. Oliver’s fingers caressed my cheek, my hip, pushing into me until my back was against the wall.

We kissed until the bell dinged, signaling that the doors were opening up to our floor. Oliver pulled back, quickly distancing himself from me. His chest heaved a little, out of breath from our encounter. His pupils were shot, wide, blown up. I furrowed my eyebrows as I carefully eyed him. I was trying to read between the lines here, but I couldn’t.

And he was gone before I could ask for any answers from him.

I stood in front of the bathroom mirror, rubbing moisturizer into my freshly clean face. Taylor Swift was playing softly on my phone, a subtle soundtrack to my evening routine. It had been another long day of perusing across Europe. My feet ached from the 10 miles I’d walked, my stomach was full from the delicious dinner I caught on the way home, and my brain was buzzing with all of the sights and sounds I’d taken in. I was going to cherish these evenings for the rest of my life.

I had even managed to stop worrying about Oliver, had let the pitiful racing thoughts that had been taking up space in my mind fall away. I was going to be cool about it. I was going to be the chill, casual girl.

What we had, what we were doing, was just hooking up. We hadn’t explicitly agreed on keeping any strings to ourselves, but Oliver had told me he couldn’t really offer any in the first place. And that was okay! It’s not like I needed to be in a relationship anyways. I was going back to school in the fall and I’d probably, honestly, never even see him again after this summer.

Casually hooking up with someone would probably be good for my development, anyways. It would teach me to become more comfortable with my body, to be more patient, to be more understanding. To just chill the fuck out, honestly. Yeah, I’d totally gotten rid of those racing thoughts…ha.

Anyways, even though I wanted to text him, to see what was going on, to see if he was okay, I just wasn’t going to. I was gonna tuck myself into bed, get a goodnight’s rest, and prepare myself for another long day. Focus on me, my happiness, my health.

My plan was going well, too. I fell asleep almost as soon as my head hit the pillow.

Then, at around midnight, I woke to my phone buzzing on my nightstand.

I lazily brought the device to my ear, murmuring some sort of greeting through half-lidded eyes. “Hello?”

“Come over.”

“What- hello? Oliver?” I sat up in bed, a little jolted by the situation. I spoke in hushed whispers, eyes on Sam’s figure to ensure that he was passed out still.

Oliver’s voice replied in an exhausted tone, “I can’t sleep. Come over.”

I took my sweet time, not wanting to seem desperate, not wanting to be at his beck and call. I pulled a hoodie down over my torso before slipping out of the room. I guided the door shut, flinching when it clicked a little louder than expected. Once I was sure the hall was clear, I headed towards Oliver’s door.

He must have been watching from the peephole, waiting for me to arrive, because as soon as I made it, the door was open and he had his hands on me again. His touch was more desperate than ever before, fingers harsh, tongue rough.

I could barely gasp for air as he gorged on my lips, overfeeding himself. I was growing more concerned for his mental health, considering it seemed like he was displacing whatever he was feeling onto me. I probably already knew what was going on- the stress of the tour, of making the next album, it was all getting to him.

He barely had any time to himself anymore, barely had any chances to breathe, to execute self care. He was overworking himself. He was just exhausted.

I felt guilty kissing him, touching him. It felt exploitive and dirty.

So, when his hands traveled down my body, up under my hoodie, to my pants, I brushed them off of me. I took a big step away from him, reaching out my own touch to keep the distance between us.

“Oliver-” I took a deep breath, trying to ground my dizzy head.

His eyes were bloodshot. He hadn’t tasted like alcohol, so I assumed he must be high. Or he had been crying. I didn’t really know which one.

Whatever exhaustion pooled in his gaze dissipated as it was replaced with worry. He took a small step towards me, palms out in a wary manner. “I’m so sorry- what is it? Are you okay, darling? What did I do?”

My jaw was a little slack, concern drowning my features and tone. “No, no- nothing! Sorry- nothing! You’re good. We’re good. I promise.”

He breathed a sigh of relief as his shoulders slumped a bit forward. “Thank fuck. I thought I hurt you or something.”

“I mean you were being a little rough, but that’s okay,” I managed a breathy chuckle.

Oliver ran hand through his hair, glancing around the room, to his feet, back to me. “Why’d you stop, then? Everything okay?”

“I’m fine,” I emphasized, “I’m more worried about you.”

Oliver sighed, loudly, posture dropping a bit more. He wiped his face as he looked away from me again. “Why?” He sounded annoyed with me.

“I’m not gonna pry, cause I know it’s not my business, but…”

“It’s not,” he cut me off.

I reared my chin back. I thought carefully, choosing my words delicately, as I crossed my arms over my chest, “I know. I know it’s not my business. I just- just want-”

“What?” He spoke impatiently.

“Just want to make sure you’re okay.”

Oliver didn’t respond. He stared at the floor beside my slippers, as though he could bore a hole with his eyes, sink into it, and slip away from this moment. I looked past his head. I didn’t want to pressure him with pervasive eye contact.

Then, after a minute or two, I heard him sniffle. I still didn’t move too much, but ran my eyes over his face. He wiped away a few tears. Oliver bit into his bottom lip, which wobbled around a bit. He didn’t want to give into the emotions overwhelming his nervous system, but he was going to have to.

I couldn’t hold myself away from him any longer. He needed connection, touch, gentleness. So, I walked right up to him and hugged him, tugging his head down into the crook of my neck. I felt his arms squeeze my entire self into him, like an anchor at his shores, calming his seas.

For the next twenty minutes, we stood there, my heart sitting just underneath his own, beating into one another. He didn’t really cry too much, probably unwilling to. I didn’t like to cry in front of others either. It was vulnerable, too vulnerable.

We just hugged each other. I caressed my fingers through his hair, hoping to soothe him, to provide solace. He just squeezed me back, tight as ever. It felt really good. I wasn’t going to pull away first, but he eventually did.

He let out one of those embarrassed laughs, wiped the tears clean off his cheeks, and moved to sit on the bed. I offered a kind smile, but still didn’t say anything. He would come to me with whatever was on his mind whenever he felt ready to.

“Sorry…about- that. Probably, uh- probably weird.”

“Not at all,” I waved him off, moving slowly towards him.

He looked up to me, his palms resting on the edge of the bed, and motioned for me to sit. I did.

“I’m just…just tired,” he shrugged.

I knew it was more than that. I knew that he harbored a lot of negative feelings towards himself, something he had confirmed for me just last week. He held himself up to a crazy standard and, of course, never met those expectations. No human being ever could.

I wouldn’t convince him of this fact, not in just one moment together. But, I could tell him one thing that he probably needed to hear. Something he’d value and treasure for longer than just a moment.

“I’m proud of you,” I spoke softly, turning my head to meet his eyes.

He didn’t say anything. He just swallowed, rubbed his lips together, thought long and hard. Then, he glanced away, brought his eyes back to mine and nodded, just once. I saw the words slot themselves into his mind, stored away for just him to hold onto. I knew he valued my opinion, so even though it wouldn’t fix his issues, it would provide some support. Support was the only way to get to recovery, to healing.

Oliver set his hand on mine, a thoughtful look in his eyes. “When I first met you, you told me you were trying to discover life this summer. To find deeper meaning. The more I get to know you, the more I disagree with that.”

“Oh?” I furrowed my brows. “And why’s that?”

“It’s just not accurate,” he shrugged, “you have so much meaning. You’re…you’re so sweet. And kind. And intentional with everything you do. You put so much goodness out with even just your gaze. I just…”

I stared up at him with, I’m sure, these big dopey eyes. Words slipped out of my mouth before I could stop them. “I really like you, Oliver.”

He frowned slightly as he brought a hand to my face, thumb brushing the apple of my cheek. I searched his eyes and couldn’t find the answer needed for what I had said. So, the distant smile on my face twisted upside down, worry lacing my features. Had I gone too far?

“I know, darling,” was all he said.

Moments of silence passed between us.

I knew he couldn’t give me much, but maybe now that my feelings were out there, clear as day, written in the sand, maybe it would help him feel more secure about whatever this was. Maybe he’d jump in with me. After all, I was scared, too. Hell, as of this morning I wasn’t looking for a relationship. But- we could be good together. He could be good for me. I know I would be good for him.

Maybe we could l-

“I don’t know that I communicated this to you well enough,” Oliver went on.

“It’s okay…”

Oliver glanced away, seemingly ashamed of whatever he was gonna say. “I can’t be in a relationship with you, Daisy. I just…I’m not good. I’m not ready. I don’t want to hurt you. I think you deserve better. We’re on different paths- I have a million excuses.”

I don’t know how I managed to avoid the tears because I could feel them threatening me from behind my eyes. But, I did. I put on this facade, acted out the role. Stood, nodding slowly, painting a sweet smile on my face.

“It’s okay. I understand. I’ll just…I’m gonna leave,” I headed for the door.

But, Oliver was grabbing my hand. “I don’t want you to. I know it…it’s so selfish of me, but I want you anyways. We have two more months before you have to go home- so who says we can’t just be casual, have fun for the rest of summer? I’d…I know I can’t ask that of you, but…I’d like that.”

I would hate him for this. I would hate myself for it, too.

But, having pieces of him was better than nothing.

I could push aside my feelings- fuck, I was already getting good at it.

I would be the cool girl, even if it killed me.

Even if it killed us.

#sleep token fanfic #sleep token x reader #iii sleep token #sleep token fanfiction #sleep token smut #vessel sleep token #sleep token iii #sleep token vessel #sleep token iv #sleep token band #sleep token #vessel (sleep token) x reader #vessel x you #vessel x reader #vessel smut #vessel

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quandaryqueen · 2 months

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Mr. Freeze 2.0

Harley Quinn Series Jonathan Crane X Spouse Reader

The Riddler was particularly alarmed when an old coworker and friend's spouse reached out to him after a long time.

It's been a long time, I know I know 😭

"So... You're telling me you wanna bring 'im back to life?"

"Yes." You answered firmly.

"Well, honey, I'm not the man for the job."

Now Edward thinks that it's not in the realm of impossibility at all, when there's crazy shit everywhere in Gotham but why him? There's the Lazarus Pit, the fucking nutjobs with powers, why don't you go bother them?

"I believe you have abundance of abilities that would be of help to me and you're the most intelligent man I know."

Edward raises a brow with a lopsided grin. Ohohoho, now you were pulling the flattery card— those were always his favourite. He doesn't need them at all, he has a pillar of support holding the weight of his confidence, but it does not hurt to hear the others state the obvious.

The Riddler replies, coyly dragging his words. "I don't know about you, but there's Lex Luthor--"

"As if that man ever achieved anything. He just throws money and expects his inventions to come to fruition—" You're not wrong. But that's not quite what he wants to hear. "— But you, you actually make progress."

"Hmm... Right. Tell me everything." Edward leans his arm against the table.

And you have told him everything. He always knew there was something more about you that meets the eye-- I mean, you're fucking married to Jonathan Crane. How could the most generic, sane-looking person be with someone like him? As they say, you are what you love.

Y/N L/N-Crane, Gotham Uni graduate with a degree of Psychology. No discernable background relevant to Edward, other than being affiliated with Jonathan and in turn, associated with the rogues. Scarecrow had put out a note to his other coworkers not to harm you, lest they want to make their lives a living hell. Now that he's dead, his threat was no longer effective, but out of respect and not really having any problems with you, they still abide by it. It is not like they can still use you against Jonathan anyways, but Edward digresses.

"So you're saying that you want to become the next Mister Freeze and bring your dead husband back to life?"

You chuckled, seems like the first time you did after all these times but it never sounded natural in your ears. Funny that he say that, Mister Freeze had actually lent you his equipment suited to preserve Jonathan... Or at least, what's left of him.

Freeze empathizes with you losing the love of your life, he understood just how painful it is. By this, he pulled you in to cope the way he does, locking your spouse's corpse in a low temperature pod in hopes of finding a way to bring them back. It wasn't healthy, but it is only what you have. But you figured it did not had to be that way, to endlessly cry before an embodiment of your grief preserved in a pod for the rest of your days. No, you were determined to bring him back, just as Freeze was.

Meanwhile Edward is particularly stoked you reached out to him, stroke his ego and consult him about a project you would be making— of course you should consult him! He's the smart one, forget the professionals, clearly he is most superior! Oh resurrection? Oh he might just work on it as well. Count him in! Oh he hasn't worked on a new project for a long time, this would be good to dip himself in the water again.

"When do we begin?"

~•~

You are a bright chemist, as Edward had come to discover, no wonder you caught Jonathan's eye despite graduating with a psychology degree. You are no Edward Nygma, of course no one can be as briliant as Edward Nygma, but he has to qualms to point out certain aspects of you he considered impressive. He can admit that you know your stuff pretty well without bruising his ego.

You thought of everything. You ruled out the Lazarus Pit as an option to resurrect due to its unpredictable nature and not to mention, the madness that comes with it. In general, magic was out of the option because you would not fuck with the unfamiliar waters, no that is not your field at all, what use would your science background do other than hanging prettily on your wall? Of course you would make use of it.

Is it possible to bring one back to life? The life long question in which science and the supernatural has their very own answers to. Frankenstein by Mary Shelley had answered the question of what would happen if one were to play god and control life itself, but your do not want to play god nor create life, you just want your Jonathan back. Besides, it did not go well for Doctor Frankenstein but maybe it was the point of it all, to dare tap into the impossible, borderline unnatural, supernatural even, breaking ethics, ruining the natural flaw of vitality of everything. But perhaps it was Frankenstein's neglect, lack of self-awareness, responsibility and accountability that caused him his downfall. Oh, and he's a fucking dropout.

It was wild how you can compare fiction into your life in a manner that is not figurative. You are here planning to bring your Jonathan back to life on a Tuesday night in Gotham City in your basement after having tea with the Riddler. You were no architect and an engineer, and so Edward was called in to design some things from you, perhaps gain feedback from him. He knows his stuff despite not having a degree of it at all and you trust him... Funding was not a problem at all, you have a few materials kindly provided by Victor Fries. After he had passed and successfully healed Nora, he had you in his mind. The low temperature preservation pods, various chemicals, the lair, the freeze ray, the suit... Riddler was not far off when he said you might be the next Mister Freeze. Hopefully not for long.

"Right, so that's the design. Promotes a good flow of necessary fluids, the vital signifier, control panels, Jonny boy's fishtank..."

Looking over a blueprint, the design was doable for Edward to construct in a matter of days and enough for you to make important phone calls for willing participants to contribute a little helping hand for this little project of yours.

So how do you plan to bring him back to life? A mix of both. You meant it when you said you would never fuck with the supernatural, but you also recognise the limitation of science. His body is beyond saving but you will be stopping at nothing to bring him back. You planned to clone his body and give him his old memories. Obtaining his old memories and consciousness is something science cannot do and you turn to the last thing you dreaded to even think about.

Klarion the Witch Boy was out of the option, too unpredictable in your taste. Zatanna does not fuck with this particular side of magic and not to mention, how she would not even involve herself with the likes of you. John Constantine, too drunk to function, moreover, how he'd attempt to fuck every breathing thing... Doctor Psycho specialises in the human mind, but would he be capable of transferring memories and consciousness to another body? You want Jonathan fully healed in a different body as himself, not a clone with his memories. Would he be willing to help? Why would he help you? Would it possible for you to see your Jonathan ever again, or is it just a copy of him you are creating? Fucking hell, is he even capable of such a thing—

"Hey, hey," fingers snapping grounds your back. His hand is on your shoulder. Edward was a touch offended when you began dazing off, how dare you? Though he bit back the remark slots on his tongue by the sight of you flinching. "Stay with me okay?"

You blinked, grounding yourself back to the living realm. "Right..."

~•~

"So what was it like with Crane?"

"Pardon?"

In the midst of you tweaking some gears into the machine, Edward sounds off behind you, having been bored out of his mind after finishing his handiwork early. He found himself drumming the screw driver against a pipe, texting Clock King (he was unfortunately offline), when he laid his eyes on you. With no connection other than Jonathan, he gives it a go. Could be fun to reopen some wounds.

He repeats himself. "What was it like with Crane?"

"Mundane at best. I was the closest thing he has to normalcy since his workplace is catastrophic."

"How'd you met?"

"Uni."

"Why did he chose you?"

"Dunno."

"Why choose him?"

"I have questionable standards."

"You aren't much of a conversationalist, are you?"

"Yes."

Edward should be irked, but he isn't. He was that bored.

"Come on, work with me on something here. I don't like being bored," He sighs, draping himself on his seat, limbs sprawled out. "Monosyllabic much?"

"Occasionally. That was five syllables just about now." A lopsided grin was present at the last sentence, but you relent. "What was he like in the workplace?"

Ahhh, there it is. Edward could work with that.

"Maybe the most tolerable I find. He wasn't much of a bitch, but he can be a bit talkative."

"And you aren't?" You snorted, eyes still fixed on the contraption you were building.

"Touchè," Edward smirks. "The most that stood out to me the most though, was that one Villy's three or four years ago. Ya know, when you were outed in the public?"

You remembered. The ordeal was not easy for you, nor Jonathan. You've been together for a decade and married five years into it. You have been kept away from the public's eye and Jonathan was adamant to keep it that way. One day, someone spotted you. With a single picture, you were in the middle of the spotlight, front page, headlines. What was supposed to be a private matter, came to light when a single photo was snapped with the two of you holding hands, wedding bands visible. The Villy's were just around the corner and you were hot shit, you were nominated to be the best couple, despite your civilian status. Harley Quinn, who was Joker's then-girlfriend, did not take it well.

"The Villy's, you know how rigged it is right? And yet you won the best couple with no strings attached." Edward says. Back then he was amused at the fact that the couple who want nothing to do with the spotlight winning.

"Joker and Harley proceeded to make our lives a living hell. Nothing life-threatening, just general inconvenience..." You sighed, the memories resurfacing. Then you retract your statement. "No, I almost died on laughing gas. Couldn't breathe, was laughing too hard, broke a rib. Jon had to sedate me and make an antidote, then took me to the hospital for my broken rib."

"I remember. I overheard Jonny telling Bane about it." Edward noted how Jonathan was close to crying when he told Bane. He felt a little sorry for the guy, before going about his day. "Was Harley that did that?"

"I don't know." You shrugged.

"Has she apologized for it?" Harley has been going about her 'character arc' lately, with her break up with the Joker, her get together with Ivy and all that.

"No." There you were again, monosyllabic— a sign that the topic was getting a touch too personal.

"Do you still miss him?" It slips from Edward before he can even think about it. He was met by your deadpan gaze, before you gesture at the device you have been working on. The 'Bring my husband back' machine. Oh duh.

"So how are you and Clock King?" You opted to divert the conversation. At least then he'd be more elated to talk about that.

Edward grins, his expression shifting into something so dreamy. "He is so good to me. Just. The best. Just this morning I woke up to breakfast in bed, he is just a sweetheart. I just know I have to marry him."

"You guys should have won the Villy's," you dropped, whilst still tending to testing the mechanism of the device, before readjusting another set of screws.

"Right?" Edward exclaims. "If Harley and Ivy didn't show up up stage, that should have been a disqualification and the runner-up winner should have gotten it. But of course, Joker had to be a self-centred dick." He groans, rolling his eyes. "CK was upset but he got over it. The Villy's rigged anyway and we don't really need it."

"If I were a rogue though, I would have voted for you." You briefly looked up, seeing just how lit Edward's eyes were at the matter of his boyfriend.

"Why thank you," he limps a hand at your direction, before fishing for something in his pocket. With his phone in hand, he began pressing some keys before he holds it in front of you. "This was our third date. He baked us some sweets and we had tea. He is soooo good at cooking and baking ugh, I'd bring some if I can. You just got to try them."

You find yourself smiling at the sight of the happy couple posing in front of the camera, Edward's hand draped on Clock King's shoulder. Good for them.

The contraption was complete and functioning, though you can't find it within you to feel successful. Edward, on the other hand, was his usual self— taking pride of what he has constructed.

"Not bad for a psychologist slash chemist. I might make an engineer out of you yet." Edward gives you an impressed, lop-sided grin as he looks down on the mechanism you made.

You only give him a smile, void of any emotions whatsoever.

"Quick question," Edward knows it within himself nothing about his query is quick. "Do you think old Jonny boy would want to see you..." He vaguely gestures at your form, darkened gaze, bloodshot eyes, exhausted, lethargic, tired, every synonym of it just to drive a point. "Like this?"

Edward gets up, giving you a firm pat on your back, before picking up the apparatus. He proceeds to install it the main machine to get it to run. The 'Bring back my husband' machine whirs to life, the cogs and gears turning, pumps shifting. Edward takes a step back to admire his— er, your (plural)— your handiwork.

~•~

The day came, the apparatus was complete and in order. All that was needed to be done was to do something out of your control and put of your abilities. You settled on cloning the body— you've already made calls to Dr. Psycho for an appointment, transfer everything from John's old body to his new one and to ensure this would not be a case of a clone with Jon's memories, you had to reiterate that.

It was risky. You were unsure. There's no doubt that resurrection is not possible, everyone who had died around you had came back, though not all of them came back right. A seed of doubt was sewn in your mind, though pushed back.

The question did not come from a place of concern (or so he thinks), he just wanted to fuck with your mind. With all the uncertainty lingering in mind, there's bound to be an interesting reaction. He was met with yet again, your dead gaze. Somehow Jonathan in his little pod was looking livelier than you are.

"No."

There was an air of finality to it, wanting not to elaborate further as you step forward to tend to the machine. There was nothing wrong with it, you just wanted to avoid him and his prying. Edward getting under your skin had never gone unnoticed, but it was best to disregard him, lest it should egg him on to poke further. You were above snapping at him, not to mention, you don't even have the energy to take his jabs to heart.

Exhaustion glazed eyes glanced at the body in the tank. An imitation of your husband sloshed in it. This wasn't him, you knew, but you just wanted to have something in his absence.

You won't deny that he had successfully made that seed of doubt in your mind to flourish. It didn't take your psychology degree to think that everything you were doing was in the place of grief. Self-awareness and all that, yet you still proceeded to lend the effort of constructing a machine in hopes to bring him back. It's all in the grieving process.

'Goodbye, my darling.'

Edward found himself raising a brow in shock, when you unplugged the machine, shutting it down. All your efforts, down the drain. All his effort. And yet he didn't feel it was all for nought. He stares at you, waiting for you to say something.

"Jonathan wouldn't like this." All you can do was shrug, he chuckles at this.

"And here I thought you'd be replacing Mr. Freeze." Edward remarks with a smirk. But then, one question remains.

"So, what now?"

#dc x reader #dc jonathan crane #harley quinn 2019 scarecrow #harley quinn series scarecrow x reader #harley quinn series jonathan crane x reader #scarecrow x reader #jonathan crane x reader #edward nigma #the riddler

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lovefromremus · 1 year

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AFTG Headcanon Series [1] Andrew

hi everybody! a new series im doing which is basically complying loads of random headcanons on characters! this first part is Andrew!

part 1, part 2

Andrew's favourite colour is green. Not necessarily grass green, or even sage green, but a deep darker green. Kind of like the colour of leaves deep in the forest. The colour is calming, and he often finds himself leaning towards the colour in various different items - jumpers, mugs etc

He hates bananas. Don't ask me to expand, he just hates the texture and the peeling and the skin and the way they look bruised

Andrew has a really bad habit of picking at his cuticles and nails, it's so bad that he buys that disgusting tasting solution thing to put on his nails so he stops

When Neil becomes closer with Jean, Andrew inevitably finds himself speaking to him more as well. And when he finds out that Jean has gone through the same abuse he has, he finds himself silently relating and trusting Jean much more than before. It's both comforting and irritating.

On bad days, when they have the cats, Andrew is calmed by the light weight of Sir or King on his chest, and often strokes their fur when he can feel himself slipping away

He grows to like Katelyn. Not necessarily appreciate her or think about her when it is not 100% needed, but when he does find himself in her company, he respects her more than he ever expected to

When Nicky finally leaves for Germany permanently, Andrew Skype's him every Monday and Friday - it's hard with timezones but they make it work. Andrew will tell him how much he actually appreciates it at some point.

He has two tattoos. Medusa on his right arm, just below his shoulder, and a small '10' directly above his heart

He absolutely ADORES Chinese takeout. Literally anything from there he will just about inhale

Andrew has a habit of doodling on his hands!!!!! When he's bored in class he'll draw little random things whether it be patterns, keys or smoke. Sometimes, shamefully even, a little fox

Andrew doesn't immediately become 'fixed' when he and Neil start their relationship and nor does his recovery speed up. But the one time during his stay at Palmetto he nearly cries, is when Cass tries to approach him after his and Aaron's trial and Bee is the one to stand in her way

There are very few times Andrew is okay with being touched by someone who isn't Neil. However, Andrew can admit (at least, to himself) that occasionally when he does need it, he goes to Nicky for hugs

He loves to read!! But he has to use reading glasses. Neil squeals every time he puts them on

ANDREW. BLUSHES. EASILY.

Andrew loves crystals. It's not that he believes in anything different types are said to help with or do, but he likes reaching into his pocket and feeling their smooth weight

He also likes the way they look on bracelets and has a rose quartz one <3

Andrew in pink I'm sorry but like a pink oversized sweater that was originally Neil's? Crying.

I know it's set in a time period where it doesn't exist yet, but can you imagine Andrew with unlimited access to Disney+ ? He would adore it

Instant noodle lover

Personally I think he would hate fizzy drinks? Like any type of soda. EW no. Maybe this me projecting a little

HIS FAVOURITE FRUIT IS CHERRIES HE COULD EAT A WHOLE BOX AT A TIME

Allergic to peanuts, as is Aaron ofc

When Andrew experiences his first year pro, he also experiences his first year alone in a while. No family around to annoy and protect, no Neil to talk to. It was sad, and for a while he found himself extremely lonely. But eventually, he learns to express these feelings and Neil helps as much as he can

Never gets over his fear of flying

He smiles. Eventually.

#all for the game #aftg #andrew minyard #psu foxes #andreil #palmetto state university #neil josten #the foxhole court #aaron minyard #kevin day

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era404skibiditoilet · 2 months

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Theory on how a TVman/woman's abilities work

Okay, we're just gonna be looking at the screen abilities, as their other stuff e.g. hand knives are self-explanatory (well, maybe not teleportation, but I've no clue about that).

-○-

First, we're gonna look at the "anatomy" of a CRT.

To my highly simplified understanding, the Electron Gun sends out a ray of light which is expanded into video by the screen (I am likely wrong, this is just the gist).

Now, I'd say that there's a couple different gadgets at the Fluorescent Screen, which ill explain here.

-○-

Red Screen of Death

[TW: Suicide. Skip to the next one if you don't like that.]

Im going to get this one out of the way first as its the most simple and boring:

Firstly, this has nothing to do with CRT's. We have seen that the RSOD is only capable of being created on flatscreen TV's, whether that's LCD, OLED etc.

I think that it's literally just an EXTREMELY bright red light. It's brightness is just low enough to be as bright as possible without causing instant blindness while also causing excruciating pain and burns to the retinas. The pain is so excruciating that all rational thinking is abandoned. Only one objective goes through the mind of the victim, and its to suicide by any means necessary. There's only one method of escape they can think of, and it's death. Very disturbing, but also really basic.

[Polycephalies' White Screen is basically the same but less powerful: just a really bright light.]

Purple Screen of Hypnotisation

My theory is that this is a combination of light and sounds that transmit signals to the brain/CPU of the target.

The screen creates an inviting, eye-catching glow, which gets the target to look at it. From there, a small circuit (We will call it Circuit 1) sends a signal to the CPU of the TV person saying "Hey! We're hypnotising someone! Tell Circuit 2 what you want them to do!" and the CPU / brain of the TV says "Got it. Circuit 2, I want you to make them do a dance."

Circuit 2 gets the signal and tells the hidden speakers in the TV "Hey! CPU says this has to make them do a dance!"

[Now, I'm going to briefly interrupt here and admit that I got heavy inspiration from this video on the (quite possibly fake) virus BadBIOS, that advertises itself as being able to spread through the air. It does so by emitting a frequency for other nearby computers to pick up that creates a spectrogram image of malicious code that infects the computer and spreads the virus further. Check out the video for more info, its actually super interesting.]

The hidden speakers in the TV then emit a frequency depending on what the the target is:

-If its an organic/skibidi, the frequency is designed to mess with it's brain in a way that stops its thought process and makes it focus on the sole objective that is carried through the frequency. (This frequency is achieved using new technology that would've been discovered by the time of the apocalypse, this is impossible with today's advancements.)

-If its a hardware head/non-organic, it does the same thing as BadBIOS: sending over code which completely overrides the hardwares free will to use its body. Its similar to being controlled by a parasite: the hardware can see what its doing (e.g. TCam would've been able to see he was beating up TSpeaker even though he didn't want to) but its body is being moved against its will. Pretty disturbing if you think about it.

All of this goes on until the light is turned off and the frequency ends.

Orange Screen(?) of Inferno

Now, I put that question mark there as I actually think this screen has nothing to do with cathode ray tubes.

Please watch this video of a solar death ray:

Source: edmundoptics On YouTube

Now, the logic behind this is that the sunlight is concentrated into a ray by the lens which gets thinner and thinner until it reaches a fine, concentrated point and expands outward in radius again. Even rocks that are put under this crack and melt.

Now, my theory is that TV's that can make a OSOI (TTV and TVwoman) have a little slider mechanism inside. Basically, they can alter between the standard Cathode Ray Tube which let's them do the other abilities, or a VERY strong and burning hot light, like a very small sun. It uses the screen as a lens and scorches victims unlucky enough to be caught within its radius. If you're even more unlucky, you'll be in the thin but extremely concentrated part, which will completely crack any metal or porcelain and melt skin.

Extra Notes:

-Diagram of a TV person's CRT.

-Diagram of the OSOI Screen (using a shitty image I grabbed off the wiki)

-Black Screen and Pink Screen are left out intentionally as 1. I have no clue about teleportation and b. The pink screen doesn't really do anything??? idk lmao

#eratags: skib #eratags: analysis #skibidi toilet #nrrrgghhh this took so long. Really happy with how it all came together tho :))#Take all the sciencey stuff I explained with not a grain but a whole shaker of salt. I (in some instances) am freestyling with no research

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nukaberries · 1 year

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Ahh im so happy to find a blog that writes new vegas! I got into it recently and its so fun! Sometimes i get tired of hearing the radio especially if im travelling way too much, so i just start singing any song that pops into my head or talk to the companions like they're real pfft

im also way too cheery for my own good lmao, game devs knew what they were doing when there was no push button for running, you know how many times i ran into mines and kept running 🧍🏽

I kinda wanna know how the companions would react to that? A Courier who practically bounces as they walk and if its not the radio or them talking to fill the silence, its them singing as they shoot radscorpions !! Couriers not half bad at singing either! They mostly sing quietly while walking the mojave for obvious reasons but on a night they feel especially safe, they'll be singing so well people will wonder why they're not making holotapes for mr new vegas to play (esp if they say the radio gets annoying at times)im sorry this is long im just excited to see a new vegas writer that hasnt left their blog 🤧

I'm SO late to this one, I'm so sorry! But I'm so glad you're enjoying New Vegas! It's tied with Red Dead Redemption 2 as one of my favourite video games! And I'm exactly the same when I play New Vegas, the radio's never off and I have no spatial awareness. I hope this was worth the wait!! (Sorry again lmao)

Companions React to a Loud/Chatty Courier (Includes: Arcade, Boone, Cass, Lily, Raul and Veronica)

Arcade Gannon Admittedly, he's a little intimidated at first. He agrees to go with the Courier since there's no point in him sticking around Freeside where he's not helping anyone. He just doesn't realise he's taken up with the most obnoxious person in the West. He's not annoyed by any means, in fact, the singing is actually quite a nice change from the radio. The constant talking is a little overwhelming for him at first though, as someone whose trying his best to keep his past with the Enclave a secret. He knows the Courier means no harm, and he feels a little guilty having to shut down their questions about him, knowing that they only mean well. They do bring out a different side to him he didn't know he had and he sometimes finds himself humming along to either the radio or Six's singing.

Craig Boone At first, he's annoyed by the Courier, but it's not like he has anything better to do. They're his best chance at wiping out the Legion, even if their incessant talking and singing is a little too much for him. He doesn't have a problem with them, but he prefers silence to having to begrudgingly answer someone who talks at a million miles per hour. The only time he'll really voice his complaints is when he actually needs them to be quiet, such as if they're trying to stealthily take out enemies, thankfully the Courier seems to know when to turn off their radio and stop singing. Eventually, the constant chatter and the singing - that he'll never admit is actually enough to rival the radio songs - become background noise he learns to appreciate. He'll never join in with the Courier's singing, but he tries his best to answer their questions and respond to their comments.

Rose of Sharon Cassidy Cass is another one who can't stand the Courier's chatter and singing at first, however, she's more than willing to voice this. A few times, she actually hid the Courier's Pip-Boy while they slept, unfortunately for Cass, they'd already memorised all the lyrics to Johnny Guitar and sung that on repeat for most of the day. It was starting to reach the point where Cass was certain they were doing it on purpose. The singing she hated, but the talking? She didn't mind the talking. In fact, Cass actually looked forward to the talking, she often struggled to make friends, considering her problems with whiskey, so it was nice to just make conversation sometimes. Sure, she'd still keep trying to put an end to the singing, no matter how good it was, but the talking Cass could live with.

Lily Bowen The first time Lily started travelling with the Courier, she was thrilled. Everyone in Jacobstown took life a little too seriously and being with the Courier was a refreshing change for her. Unlike most of the other companions, Lily actually loves the singing and the talking. She'll even suggest that the Courier tries their hand at singing on the Strip, the Tops and the Atomic Wrangler are always looking for new acts after all. Lily will even try and sing along with them, before realising her voice doesn't exactly compliment or rival the Courier's, but so long as they encourage to join in, she always will. The talking is just as lovely for her, it's nice to know that the Courier still cares about their grandma, even if they are growing up so fast.

Raul Tejada Never in all his years of being alive has he met someone like the Courier. It was one thing that they managed to deal with Tabitha, but the fact that they did it with Radio New Vegas playing on full blast from their Pip-Boy? Raul wasn't sure whether to be impressed or absolutely terrified. He leans more towards the latter once he starts travelling with them, struggling to keep up with the Courier constantly asking him questions about where he's from and what his life was like before the war and how he turned ghoul. Like Arcade, Raul finds it overwhelming and eventually asks politely if the Courier can calm down a little with all the questions, thankful when they actually oblige. He learns to love the Courier in spite of their loud habits, even being happy to fix their Pip-Boy when it stops letting them connect to the radio stations. It's against his better judgement, but they seem grateful for it.

Veronica Santangelo She immediately bonds with the Courier over their love for Radio New Vegas. Veronica wishes she had her own Pip-Boy so she could listen to the radio in her own free time, since lugging a radio around the Mojave Desert doesn't seem like the best idea. She absolutely loves the Courier's singing too, insisting that they don't forget her once they make it big in some bar in New Reno. She also tries her best to be the Courier's backup singer when wandering the wasteland, however, she accidentally stumbles up on a lot of her lyrics and trying to pronounce "Agua Fria" at the start of Big Iron quickly becomes the bane of her existence. Veronica also loves to gossip with the Courier, about her love life - and the Courier's if they're willing to disclose it - and all her least favourite things about her commanding officers in the Brotherhood. Whenever she travels with Six, Veronica manages to get a lot of off her chest

#fallout #fallout new vegas #fallout companions #fallout x reader #fallout imagines #fallout headcanons #courier six #arcade gannon #craig boone #rose of sharon cassidy #lily bowen #raul tejada #veronica santangelo

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littlebluentebook · 2 months

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Alastor x Reader pt.6

A/N Oh my goodness! I didn't expect the story to get this much attention! Im going to do some sort of second story where Alastor and the reader are in hell. If theres no objections I'll also feature some helluva boss characters (just to advance the plot!)

I am very sorry for not updating! I went out of town, nearly broke my hip, got sick, and started a new job all in the last 2 weeks. I should be able to post once every three days now :)

Thank you to everyone reading the story! I love sharing my ideas and feel free to reach out if there are any stories you want to see!

TW-Animal Blood(?)

Chapter 7

You woke up in Alastor's arms. It wasn't on purpose! You both had agreed to split the bed, pride getting in the others way. Apparently, somewhere in the night you each reached for the other. Not minding the extra warmth, you fell back asleep. There was no point in moving away; you liked him, he was comfy, and kept you warm. The second time you woke up, the sun was bright and the bed was empty. Worried you checked the clock to make sure you hadn't overslept to open the shop. You had forty five minutes to get the store open. Not as much time as you would have liked, but also not anything too out of your range.

"Ah! My sleeping beauty, glad you're now awake!" a voice said from the doorway. Alastor? You thought he had left. "Come now! I have made us breakfast."

Alastor could cook. Breakfast tasted like it was picked up from a five star restaurant on the more expensive side of town. Over breakfast he told you that he was unable to leave such a beautiful person alone and you needed the rest from the previous night. He actually didn't leave you at all that day.

He sat talking with you in your shop keeping well mannered company. Alastor would never admit it, but he absolutely loved listening to you talk. He spent so much time talking on the radio it was nice to finally be listening to others. He never really cared for sewing but asked you questions about how you did certain things and complimenting your stitch work. He also would assist you while you worked; measuring, flipping things right side outing grabbing fabric as needed. He liked feeling useful to you and watching you work on something you were passionate about.

:Thank you so much for your help today Allie."

"Allie?" He tilted his head like a puppy hearing 'no' for the first time.

"Yeah! Like a nickname," you beamed at him. Alastor mulled the name over in his head before deciding it was okay when it rolled off your tongue and into his ears. No one else could ever be allowed to call him Allie aside from you.

"Hmmmm. Alright" He was at a loss for a nickname truly just wanting to call you his. "Why don't we go and fetch ourselves dinner. I know the most exquisite place!"

"that would be lovely!" Your demeanor was much calmer than your racing thoughts. First, Alastor had stayed the night and made breakfast. Secondly he spent the entire day with you. And now he wanted to take you to dinner! You felt like a romance character from the books you had read and heard stories of.

He had helped you close the shop, took your arm in his (it was the only way you two ever walked together) and he led the way to the restaurant.

It was a nice place with candles and flowers on the table. There was a live band playing softly to entertain guests as they dined.

Alastor was sweet and kind with you, he made excellent recommendations about what drinks to try and meals to order. You both split a cake together for dessert. The night was wonderful, absolutely perfect! The only thing that there you off was the way in which Alastor ordered his steak.

"Alastor!" you had whisper-yelled "that cow is so undercooked I can still hear it moo-ing in the fields. Do we need to have the waiter take it back for just a moment longer?"

"Haha oh no darling! I just enjoy my cut of meat like this. It holds so much more flavor!" You gave him a quizzical look swearing you had just seen blood dark as your wine pool on the plate.

When your night had come to an end, Alastor had walked you home and kissed your cheek. It had left you red and blushing thinking about it as you slept.

The next morning you had awoken ready to start your chores. You folded the blanket and pajamas that Alastor had borrowed and cleared a drawer for the items to reside in. Today you had a new activity you hadn't done in years.

You walked down the stairs leading to your shop and to the circular display table at the center of your shop. Grabbing the wilted flowers and vase you got to work and put them in your oven to dry them out. You loved keeping gifts, flowers were beautiful but difficult to keep but you made it work.

The entire day you were all that was on Alastor mind. He simply could not get enough of you despite spending the entire day together before. He was talking to his mother about the feeling and how he had never experienced it, unsure of what to do he was searching for advice. His mother was not helping the situation, she merely laughed at him. "Oh Al, why don't'cha go onna date together and court the poor thing!" What if you didn't like him back? What if he made a total fool of himself. His mother could sense his worries, "well whoever can put up with ya for a full day definelty doesn't not like you." She pinched his cheeks and went back to cooking for the both of them

#alastor x reader #alastor x y/n #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel 2024 #alastor x you #hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbinhotel #alastor #x reader

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3mcwriting · 9 months

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Any Fan's Dream, Part 21

Taglist: @secretly-sirens, @zeeader, @imdoingathingmom, @x-theolivia, @ainsley-official, @huntress-artemiss, @hoohoohope, @ourgoddessathena, @wiintaersoldier, @vine-enthusiast, @afraidofshrimp, @myfturn, @im-better-than-your-newborn, , @mjaudrey, @igotthisasajokeyetimstillhere, @starr60, @coldmermaidhologram, @daenerysluvrr, @viperchick47, @marvelwomen-arehot, @mynightandstars

So, recently this fic hasn't had much interaction, and I'm not sure why. One of you told me that it can be buggy and hard to reach, so I'm sorry abt that but if you ever wonder abt updates, I'm gonna start up dating every saturday. Just go to my masterlist, then to the afd masterlist and to the new chapter. Hopefully you're all able to find it now. This will be the last time I post the masterlist because it hasn't been working well.

Any Fan's Dream Masterlist

Synopsis:

When you look around and see Avengers Tower in front of you and Peter Parker beside you, you wonder how the hell you managed to get into the MCU.

Your migraine and your recent suffocation seemed to get along great (unfortunately for your head).

Your breathing was labored, your throat was aching and scratchy, and you were struggling to speak.

Overall, a great time.

You struggled to sit up against the cool cement ball behind you, head spinning as you did so. Finally managing to get your back to the wall, you tried to prop yourself up using it, slowly rising to your feet. You were disoriented, barely managing to keep your balance even with the wall supporting you. Your brain didn't seem to want to remember what had happened to lead to you waking up on the floor in pain but you forced yourself to remember.

The voice over the intercom, the lights going out, and someone pulling you away from your friends and suffocating you. Your entire body trembled at the memory of being so helpless while you were taken away from the people you cared about.

Now wasn't the time to think about that though, there were people talking in this room, you could hear them faintly.

You tried to say something, opening your mouth and hardly a noise leaving it. You began to panic, why couldn't you speak? You tried to clear your throat, the action only inciting more pain in the abused area.

You licked your lips, trying again.

Barely a whisper came out.

You took that as progress, trying again, this time your words coming out in a soft rasp.

"I-" you faltered, struggling to say the rest of the words. "I'm over here."

The voices stopped.

Rapid footsteps approached you, a lot of them. You could see them: Thor, Steve, Wanda, Bucky, and Clint, but the light from the glowing cells didn't reach you.

"(y/n), where are you?" Steve's voice was bordering on frantic. "(y/n)?"

"Here," you managed to force out the single word slightly easier than before.

Bucky was the first to find you, being more familiar with the room than the rest of the group. He had followed your voice, getting close enough to hear your labored breathing.

You could see the outline of his body and the faintest glint of light off his metal arm. You reached out, your fingers brushing the metal.

He stiffened. "She's over here."

"Are you okay?" Bucky asked.

You managed a raspy, "yes," barely managing to stay standing.

Bucky steeled himself, seeing how you struggled to stand upright, knowing you'd need someone to brace yourself as you moved. He wasn't great with people touching him, too used to the abuse that physical interaction was with Hydra.

Wanda found the two of you, deathly concerned for you. "(y/n), could I wrap an arm around you? We should get out of here."

You wanted to say that you could walk by yourself, but you were at the point that even you could admit that you needed help. "Yeah, go ahead."

Wanda felt her heart squeeze at your voice, but grabbed your arm, setting it over her shoulder while she wrapped an arm around your torso.

With Wanda's body supporting your own, you managed to hobble out of the shadows, the rest of them returning to the entrance of the room once they saw you.

Your legs were fine but your head was pounding almost as bad as it was when you'd first gotten the concussion. You were worried that if Wanda let go of you you would just crumple to the floor. Your head was bothering you so much that you missed the unconscious assassins on the floor until Thor began picking them up like sacks of flour.

For a moment you thought they were dead, but you saw the rise and fall of their chests after a moment. They weren't the only people you missed in your dazed state.

Your eyes went round when they landed on Scott and Sam who were flanking Zemo, the man in between them in restraints. He looked up as you emerged from the shadows with Wanda, feeling ashamed when he saw the state you were in.

"I apologize, (y/n)(l/n)."

"Don't speak to her." Wanda's eyes glowed red, like the warning light of an alarm.

She escorted you back to the entrance of the bunker, Thor following behind the two of you, ready to drop everything in case you needed extra help to walk (quite literally, he was ready to drop the four assassins stacked in his arms if you needed help).

As of that day hadn’t been bad enough already, somebody was waiting outside the entrance as the three of you exited the bunker.

You cursed in your head, remembering what was supposed to happen in this part of the movie.

T'Challa was supposed to find out that Bucky hadn't been the one to bomb the building that resulted in his father's death, but with your plot-changes, you had arrived before he did and he didn't know.

He was here for Bucky.

"Your majesty," you greeted, voice still fucked up, too soft for this situation. "There's something you need to know-"

You stopped, hearing the footsteps behind you and the way T'Challa had tensed. You turned around, seeing the rest of the group, both Steve and Bucky carrying an unconscious assassin.

Steve saw the king, looking in between his best friend and the man that wanted to kill him. "Bucky didn't set off the bomb, your majesty. It wasn't him."

T'Challa took his word with a grain of salt, knowing the extent to which he had already gone to protect his best friend and figuring that Steve would say just about anything to protect Bucky.

Too blinded by his own rage, T'Challa attacked, almost managing to slip past Steve to get to his true target. Steve dropped the person in his arms, stepping around them quickly and pulling T'Challa back before putting himself between the vengeful king and the tortured veteran.

Steve was fighting T'Challa, but he was fighting and losing.

His shield was still on his back and T'Challa wasn't allowing any time for him to grab it. Without the vibranium barrier, he was stuck with evading T'Challa's claws, no time to land his own punches on the man.

T'Challa was ferocious, driven by vengeful rage, but still fighting with the finesse you had seen in the movies. He didn't allow his emotions to cloud his mind because although he currently had the upper hand, he knew that the man he was fighting could overpower him if he got sloppy.

You watched in horror as Bucky joined the fight, knowing just how powerful T'Challa's determination was.

T'Challa's hand swiped at Bucky's throat, claws grazing his neck just barely, a line of red appearing as a shallow cut formed.

"Stop! Please!" You were desperate.

This couldn't be what happened.

"STOP FUCKING FIGHTING!! SERGEANT BARNES DIDN'T SET OFF THE EXPLOSION!" You were fed up. You did not go through an explosion, days on your feet with a concussion, and getting suffocated just for this shit to happen. "I WAS THERE, REMEMBER?? I JUMED IN FRONT OF YOUR FATHER! IT WASN'T SERGEANT BARNES!!"

Deafened by his own grief and anger, T'Challa continued fighting.

He saw it.

Bucky staggered, the snow messing up his movement. He managed to catch himself almost instantly, but T'Challa had already reached out, claws striking out like a knife.

"I SAID TO FUCKING STOP!" You jumped in the way before it could happen, unwilling to let James Buchanan Barnes die over a stupid misunderstanding.

T'Challa's eyes went wide when he realized what was happening, but his claws plunged into your skin before he could stop. He pulled back, but it was too late.

You looked down dazedly. "What the fuck."

And you passed out.

Wanda's voice was high with worry. "(y/n)! (y/n)!" She ran to you, stumbling in the snow and cursing the world.

"LADY (Y/N)!" Thor bellowed, rushing to you.

Bucky caught you.

You had shielded him, jumped in front of him, and took fucking knives for him.

Why?

The fight stopped, Steve running to you while Clint did the same and Sam started the quinjet so that they could get you out of there and to medical attention as fast as possible.

Steve's heart almost stopped.

There was so much blood.

You had been stabbed mostly in the arm, but also on the side of your torso. Two of his claws had punctured scarily deep into your arm, one had just barely grazed your arm, while the other had went deep into your side.

Steve took you from Bucky, cradling you in his arms while he sprinted to the quinjet. The rest of the team followed him, T'Challa watching regretfully. He had never meant to hurt you. He just needed Barnes to pay for what he'd done. But not you. You were the reason his father survived the explosion.

Half of him was urging him to run after Barnes, to get him and make him feel the pain T'Challa had felt when his father had been hurt. He had to stop himself, recalling what you'd yelled to make them stop fighting. Sure, you could've just been saying anything to get them to stop fighting, but he didn't think you were lying. After all, you were also injured in the explosion, and if Barnes was the man behind it, that meant you had just risked your life for the man.

Since the moment Bucky had seen you, you had instilled nothing but confusion within him. Who were you? Why were you so welcoming to him? Why were you so eager to help?

But at the moment, one question prevailed.

Why had you saved his life at the risk of your own?

Everything had been a blur during the fight, but he had immediately known what was going to happen the moment he stumbled in the snow. Sure, it had only slowed him down slightly, but he knew that that second would mean his death.

And while that should've scared him, he could only remember all the lives he'd taken. All the pain caused at his hands and the decades of torture he'd endured and the nightmares that made sleeping more than impossible.

After all the blood he spilled, he couldn't help but think that maybe it was a fitting way to die.

Violently, painfully--just the way he'd hurt so many others.

He thought that maybe he deserved it.

But instead of those claws plunging into his body, they went into yours.

You, the person he barely knew, the one he'd only just met.

Young, happy, with people who cared about you. He didn't know you well---he hardly knew you at all---but even he could see how much you cared about the people you surrounded yourself with.

So, yeah, maybe he did deserve to die in the way he'd killed so many others, but he knew you didn't deserve that fate.

"Tony-"

"What are you doing calling me? You've made it pretty clear-"

"For once in your life, shut the fuck up!" Steve was fed-up and worried. He had just lost Peggy, he didn't want to lose another person he cared about. "(y/n)'s hurt."

"She's hurt?" Tony instantly went serious. "How bad?"

"It doesn't look good," Steve was unsteady, hardly believing what was happening. "We're trying to get to a hospital but there's none anywhere nearby."

Tony hadn't had a good day in a while.

With the Accords announced and the problems that arose with that---with Steve---a rift had formed between the team. Not to mention how Steve's friend had bombed the signing of the Accords, only for it turn out that he had most likely been framed. And last, but most definitely not least, the leaking of the Accords had caused even more of a shitstorm.

Seeing some of the things that had been exposed, Tony was almost relieved. With the outrage the public was showing towards the Accords and the proof of the unethical aspects of it, all the governments behind the Accords were going to have to reevaluate their stance on it and figure out if they were worth the risk of uprising in their countries.

The Avengers had saved too many lives, inspired too many people, for those very people to allow their heroes to be treated like war criminals. That said, there were of course the people who still supported the Accords, but the number of those people were shrinking the more information was uncovered.

With the last week full of enough shit to fill up every Porta-Potty on the planet, Tony really shouldn't have been surprised that it would only get worse.

You were hurt.

And from the sound of Steve's voice, you were hurt bad.

Was it not enough that he had to deal with the fear and worry when you'd been caught in the explosion? This time, you weren't even with him. He couldn't help you at all. You were in pain and possibly dying and he was stuck waiting in his private jet for his phone to track Steve's so that he could figure out where you were.

Once his phone had pinpointed Steve's location, he instructed F.R.I.D.A.Y. to follow them until they caught up. But even going as fast as they were, he knew he wouldn't catch them for at least two hours.

"Tony, what happened?" Natasha was pretty sure she knew exactly what had happened, but she didn't want her suspicions to be true.

Peter already knew.

With his enhanced senses, he'd heard exactly what had been said on the phone.

You were hurt.

And he was useless to help you.

Thor looked up at Steve's words.

You were lain out on the floor, Wanda and Clint trying to stop your bleeding. You'd already lost a lot of blood, if they didn't get real medical help soon, he knew you wouldn't survive. If Steve was right and there weren't any hospitals nearby, you were doomed to death. After all, you were only human. If you had been a god you would-

Thor's eyes lit up, knowing exactly how to help you.

"I must take Lady (y/n)." Thor spoke, everyone looking to him. "I can get her help better than any human could provide." He was already moving to you, both Wanda and Clint hesitant to let him take you but too worried about what would happen to you if he didn't.

"What are you going to do?" Steve asked.

"Take her to Asgard."

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