#I was so tired like I was struggling to be aware and awake

[dijayeah]

How the LaDS Men React When You Hide Feeling Unwell?

Rating: SFW ♡

Sylus: You’re running a high fever but try to power through a meeting with him. Sylus isn’t fooled. - Sylus notices the way you’re shivering and the slight flush on your cheeks. He interrupts the meeting, his tone cutting. “You’re unwell. Why are you here?” - When you refuse, he steps closer, his red eyes narrowing. “Don’t play games with me. Tell me what’s wrong.” - Slightly annoyed by your carelessness, Sylus cancels all your plans for the day (and his) and orders you to rest. “You’re no use to me like this, Kitten. I'll have Luke and Kieran escort you home.” - Despite his 'cold' demeanor, he shows up at your place later with medicine and soup. “Eat. And don’t argue.” - Before leaving, he brushes a strand of hair from your face, his voice gentle. “Next time, don’t push yourself, sweetie. I’ll handle everything.”

Xavier: You’re exhausted after pulling an all-nighter but try to act normal during a date. Xavier sees right through you. - Xavier notices the bags under your eyes and the way you’re struggling to stay awake. He stops mid-conversation, his voice soft. “You’re tired, aren’t you?” - Without waiting for a response, he pulls you into his arms and leads you to the couch. “Rest. I’ll clean up a little.” - Xavier then wraps you in a blanket and brings you a cup of warm tea. “You work too hard. Let me spoil you for once.” - He sits beside you, running his fingers through your hair until you fall asleep. “You shouldn't take on so many missions, y/n.” He murmurs. - When you wake up, he’s made 'breakfast' (toast with some jam) and left a note: “Next time, tell me when you’re tired, we can stay in.”

Caleb: you sprained your ankle during a mission but try to brush it off as nothing. Caleb notices immediately. - Caleb’s military training makes him hyper-aware of your movements. The second you limp, he’s by your side, his voice sharp but laced with concern. “Don’t lie to me. What’s wrong?” - Without waiting for an explanation, he scoops you up bridal-style, ignoring your protests. “You’re not walking on that, Pip-squeak. End of discussion.” - He insists on taking you to the med bay himself, glaring at anyone who dares to question his urgency. “Move. Now.” - Once you’re treated, Caleb sits by your side, his voice low and serious. “You should’ve told me. I can’t protect you if you hide things from me.” - He stays with you the entire night, making sure you’re comfortable and bringing you tea.

Zayne: You’re dealing with a bad headache but try to hide it during a visit to his clinic. Zayne, being a doctor, notices immediately. - Zayne takes one look at you and knows something’s off. “You’re pale. What’s wrong?” - When you try to brush it off, he crosses his arms and gives you a stern look. “Don’t lie to your doctor. Tell me the truth, y/n.” - He guides you to a quiet room, dims the lights, and hands you a glass of water. “Sit. I’ll get you something for the pain.” - As he checks your vitals, he murmurs, “You should’ve told me sooner. You don’t have to suffer alone. How many times will we go through this?” - Zayne insists on driving you home despite having to work and stays for a bit to make sure you’re comfortable. “Rest. I’ll check on you later.”

Rafayel: You’re feeling nauseous but try to hide it during a beach date. Rafayel, being as clingy as he is, notices right away. - Rafayel clings to your arm and immediately senses something’s wrong. “You’re not yourself today, cutie. What’s going on?” - When you try to downplay it, he pouts and pulls you closer. “Don’t hide things from me! I can tell you’re not okay.” - He drags you to a shaded area and makes you sit down. “Stay here. I’ll get you water and something light to eat.” - Rafayel stays by your side, holding your hand and fussing over you. “You’re not allowed to get sick. Who will I cling to if you’re not here?” - Before you leave, he gives you a seashell charm. “This will protect you. And next time, tell me when you’re not feeling well.”

[j-mysticalien]

Some photos from my view at Madison Square Garden this weekend

[krystella-shifts]

Ignoring symptoms/outer world and detaching while entering the void state

So I got this question & post idea in my DM and it's a great suggestion cuz I personally used to struggle with that and seen others struggle w/ it too.

So y'all are focusing too much on the 3d AND the thought that you are focusing on the 3d and that you shouldn't focus on the 3d. How to detach from it?

1. First of all stop focusing so much on the thought/belief that you ARE focusing on the 3d and to enter the void you HAVE to NOT feel it AT ALL cuz if you while inducing think like "ok I feel this symptoms but I'm also hearing this and why do I still feel my pillow" LIKE DON'T. Just relaxxxx we're not telling you'll to relax for nothing! Cuz I realised form my experience that if I stress that my family is being loud or if I'm feeling symptoms and that i shouldn't move AT ALL (as if I'm in some statue statue game olympics 🗿🥴) it brings my focus back on the physical world. But when I am relaxed i just don't give a fuck. Think about the time you were SO tired after a long day of being outside and you just wanted to go home and sleep, when you finally got to go in bed did you have any care in the world what's going on in the 3d? Ask yourself

2. You have two rooms if you don't wanna be in room A you just go in room B. Be in 4d to not be in 3d. Like as simple as that. Think, affirm, daydream whatever the fuck you do like literally have a party in your mind i don't care as long as you're not aware of the 3d anymore! You know what works best for you. You do not have to follow a damn method EXACTLY step-by-step. Make it your own. For me I can't only affirm and be only in the 4d cuz it's daily life for me to affirm so what I do is affirm while imagining or just imagine. And many time when I wasn't even trying to induce but was just imagining scenarios to sleep i wasn't aware of the outside world at all. Sometimes while thinking myself to sleep i felt whatever I was seeing behind my eyelids literally form and become more vivid as if I was actually in front of it (it was fun ngl 🤡) so yeah basically do what works for you. I can't tell you what works for you, no one can. Only you. (I wEnT cRaZy OvEr YoU)

3. For some people it can be fear. Fear of suddenly having everything they want (unlike what the damn bitch society have told everyone) so just accepting if you have this fear and telling yourself it doesn't have to be hard, painful the way society told us, everything is meant to be easy and just flow for us. Or your body/mind might be scared of "leaving" your body here or find it unusual but regardless telling yourself and body "you're safe, I am safe" is a great way. Writing down your fear and tearing it can also help.

Understand actually having it/ being in the wish fulfilled state

So you said you're in the void in the 4d but asking for help, even tho I obviously don't mind helping at all, you wouldn't be asking for help if you were actually in the wish fulfilled. F the terms you ARE actually in the void. I'm not just saying it as an aff or whatever. You actually are in the void 25/8. The void is within you. The void IS you. It is YOUR God state. Wdym you have it in the 4d and not in 3d??YOU JUST HAVE IT. You don't TRY to get into an awake or asleep state you just are in it when you are. Void is just like a mix of both being aware but asleep. You're not entering some completely different realm you are going within. When you force yourself to sleep you're just becoming more and more awake. But when you just let it happen it not only happens, it's effortless. Why treat Void state any different? It's not some magical thing getting you your desires YOU ARE. you can manifest anything in awake state too and you are the one manifesting in the void so don't put it on a pedestal please.

Nothing is holding you back from inducing the void state. If you believe nothing is, nothing is. Nothing can. Nope not even the 3d, not even the doubts. The law is always working. Stand in your power.

- Krystella

Wow this is something I needed to hear myself in my journey (i'mma pat myself on the back) thank you for the person who suggested this idea and let me attach the ss :D I'm grateful to be able to help! Feel free to ask. Thank you for reading !

Happy living our dream life 🥂💋🩷

✿˖˚ ༘𐙚

[rhys-writes-some-shit]

Cuddles

Alastor x Reader (QP)

You were always respectful of the fact that Alastor didn't like physical touch that he didn't initiate. You never asked why, never tried to force him otherwise, never even considered trying to touch him without his consent. This remained true for all the years you'd known him.

But sometimes it got really fucking difficult.

After a long day of work, then chores, then helping with the hotel, you were absolutely exhausted. And you still had dinner to look forward to. As much as you loved Al, his need for dinner formality really got on your nerves sometimes. At least the food was good.

Luckily, there was a little time where you could escape to your room. Closing the door behind you, you kicked off your shoes and dramatically collapsed onto the bed. As soon as your body hit the mattress, you wanted to stay there for the rest of eternity.

But that wasn't an option.

Groaning, you decided it wouldn't hurt to close your eyes for a moment. Besides, Alastor would want you to be lucid for dinner. Closing your eyes for a second would help.

"Ah, there you are." Distantly, you heard Alastor poke his head in the room. "I would like your input on supper, if you don't mind."

Unable to muster words, you made some unintelligible noises into the bed, curling up more with the blankets. Alastor's footsteps were muffled by the carpet, so you didn't know he was standing right next to you until he spoke.

"Seriously, darling, it is much too early to be sleeping. Don't be so dramatic."

A hand fell on your shoulder, probably to try and take the blankets off you. However, in your half-awake stupor, you shifted to grab the hand, pulling it towards you in an effort to pull some comfort out of it.

Your brain didn't compute what you'd just done for a full 30 seconds, until, suddenly, it hit you. Despite your exhaustion, you immediately let go of Alastor's hand and jerked to a sitting position.

"Al, I'm so, so sorry," you said, your voice sounding more tired than anything else. You ignored the way your eyes kept trying to close, Alastor's figure being nothing more than a red blur in front of you. "I didn't mean to. Give me a minute, I'll be down to help."

Alastor hummed, the contemplative hum you've learned to differentiate over time. Vaguely, you were aware that Alastor's smile softened a bit.

"I can spare ten minutes," Alastor finally said. "Move over, if you please."

You stared at him, blinking tiredly, struggling to understand what was happening.

Expectantly, Alastor motioned to the bed. "Nine minutes and thirty-five seconds."

Then it kicked in. Hastily, you moved over to the other side of them bed, giving enough room for Alastor to sit down with his back against the headboard.

Blankets curled around your shoulders, you sat there, hesitating.

"You may." Alastor answered the unspoken question. "For eight minutes and fifty-two seconds."

It was impossible to deny the smile that grew on your face as you crawled into Alastor's lap, resting your head on his chest and closing your eyes. Gently, Alastor wrapped his arms around you, holding you.

Wrapped in blankets, leaning into Alastor's solid body, the darkness behind your eyelids enveloped you. It felt like you were floating, just your and Alastor, and nothing could ever harm you ever again. As long as you kept your breathing steady, everything would be okay.

Everything would be okay.

You were right; just closing your eyes for a few minutes helped immensely. It was even better that it was spent with one of your favorite people in all of Hell. And if Alastor "accidentally" forgot to keep track of the time, extending your cuddle for an extra two minutes, you weren't going to say anything.

[yawnderu]

Lorelei — Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader | Part VI

1 2 3 4 5 6

Synopsis: Aware of the way his lifestyle doesn't align with your dream life and unwilling to quit his life as a soldier, Simon breaks things off with you. It isn't until a year later that he sees you again, a tiny carbon copy of him held in your arms.

Simon Riley is, like any other man who has been in the military for long enough and seen the horrors of war, a man who struggles. Struggles with feelings, actions, words, nightmares. The constant reminder that his career—the very same thing that made him grow a pair and go from a scared little boy to a proper lad—was what ultimately cut his family’s life short, weighed heavy on his shoulders, holding him down like Atlas holding the sky. 

Despite how much he tried to hide his own feelings from both you and himself, that icy gaze that seemed to be focused on nothing for hours and the lingering silence, along with the tired smiles he forced himself to give you no matter how awful his nightmares were the night before made it clear things were only getting worse.

Whatever was out there was oftentimes merciful enough to give him good dreams every once in a while, his psyche drowned in a sea of what the future could have been. A future with his family, a future with you. No matter how difficult things got in the black, buzzing mess that was his head, he saw his daughter and you like a beacon, a Star of Bethlehem during those dark, cold nights. 

The sound of stirring bed sheets is what originally wakes you up, the smell of tobacco and gunpowder that always linger on Simon’s body overwhelms your senses the longer you’re awake, slowly coming back to your senses. A groan, and more shifting from your left. 

“Simon.” Your voice is soft and even, hands feeling around the bed sheets until you find his shaking body. In the past, Simon used to sleep on the couch, refusing to go back to his apartment just so he could spend more time with you and your daughter, yet after Johnny’s death, the pain and trauma was always clear in his eyes, ending up with you offering to let him sleep in the same bed. 

Simon’s body feels extremely warm, a thin layer of sweat covering his burly frame, seeping through his clothes and into your fingers as you shake him harder, the room dimly lit with the bright moonlight peering from the window. You can see his features scrunching up, his hands balled into fists, the veins in his neck and forehead becoming more prominent as he relives what is likely yet another traumatic moment in his life. 

“Simon.” You repeat with more urgency this time, your body shifting closer to his in order to shake him firmly, watching as his eyes flew open, dilated pupils looking around the room before meeting your gaze, a mask of deception quickly taking over his visage as you see him force himself to appear more relaxed despite the fast-drumming of his pulse you can still feel beneath your fingers, his chest rising and falling, nostrils flaring as he forces himself to take a deep breath.

“Did I wake you up?” Despite how awful his nightmares were, Simon’s priority was always you. His kindness isn’t just fake sympathy, it’s the real thing. 

“No, I was reading something.” A little white lie that at the very least eased his concerns. Your hand squeezes the tense mass of muscle on his shoulder with such gentleness that he wasn’t used to, not after a year of being alone after breaking up with you. 

The corners of his lips tug up into a tight-lipped, tired smile, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down as he swallows thickly, trying to hold it together for your sake. His eyes examine yours for any hints of disgust, any hints that you may have seen just how disgusting he could be during those nightmares, his mind still fragmented thanks to Roba’s torture, never seeming to heal no matter how many years go by. 

Your fingers work overtime on trying to ease the knots formed on his muscles from the strain it takes to hold it together when you’re looking at him with so much trust and concern, not an ounce of disgust in you despite how ashamed he feels. His eyes momentarily drift away from you, focusing on the baby monitor, the tiny screen displaying your sleeping daughter, the living image of innocence, serving as a soothing balm for his broken soul. 

“Bad dream?” How lucky he is, that even crushed under the weight of looming grief and enough trauma to last him several lifetimes, he has someone to care about him, to care for him. His exhausted eyes leave the baby monitor, staring up at the ceiling as he finally allows himself the chance to take in your tender touch, the genuine kindness showing through your soft massage and concern, no matter how much of a bastard he was for leaving you. 

“Yeah.” You know better than to press him about it, too familiar with him to know if he wants to talk about his issues, he will. You lean closer to him, your head now resting on his pillow and your arm draped over his stomach, your body moving on nothing but pure muscle memory from four years of dating him. 

From this short distance, you’re able to admire the man that Simon Riley truly is. His short brown hair, the thin, pale scars adorning his visage, and the wrinkles that are starting to become more prominent as he ages, war and stress making him appear older than he actually is, yet looking as handsome as ever. His rough, calloused hand goes up to hold yours, fingers intertwining with the same muscle memory your body performed. 

It has been months since Simon came back into your life, the knowledge of the fact that he now has a daughter always made him stick around, not wanting to miss a single moment from the tiny bundle of joy that seems to adore him, a brave little girl who was as spunky as her mother, and as stubborn as her father. 

“‘Bout Roba, again.” He finally admits after seconds of silence. Manuel Roba, a name you’re unfortunately familiar with. The same man who tortured Simon and his mates for months on end, allowing him to escape and to feel a sense of false security, giving him the chance to have a proper family for once with his father out of the picture, just to rip everything that held him together from his hands. 

“Do you wanna talk about it?” His head shakes, signaling a no. The pads of your fingers run over his bruised knuckles in a calming fashion, tracing tiny, random patterns before his free arm wraps around your shoulders, pulling you closer to his chest now that he’s laying on his side. There’s hesitation in his actions, yet his soul is filled with relief the moment you let go of his hand, just to circle his waist with one of your arms. 

“‘M sorry.” He’s not even sure what he’s apologizing for. There’s way too many things he needs to atone for, and he will be as patient as they come. 

“I’m sorry for leavin’. I was scared, didn’t want to mess you up.” He knows his absence did the opposite, and the idea of you giving birth without him present always shattered his soul. If only he had known about your pregnancy, he wouldn’t have broken up with you, never would have left. 

His chapped lips plant a comforting kiss on your forehead, his warm hands running up and down your back, looking to soothe you as he can hear your breath hitch, salty tears already rimming your eyes. Your face is buried against his chest, lightly feeling his fast-beating heart as he holds you even closer, his eyes fluttering shut at finally having you in his arms again. 

“I missed you.” The shakiness in your voice breaks his heart even further, his soul being ripped apart by his own selfish, awful decisions. 

“I missed you too, sweet girl.” He manages to whisper out despite the way he’s getting choked up, his arms circling your form even more when your shoulders begin to shake. Warm, salty tears bleed through his clothes as he holds you as close as possible, squeezing your frame even tighter before he’s back to rubbing your back up and down, looking into spreading the warmth emanating from his large frame. 

“So fuckin’ much.” Another gentle kiss is planted on your forehead, holding you for as long as you need— for as long as he needs, too. You both lose track of time, simply caressing and giving each other much needed comfort, bringing you back to the ways you comforted each other back when you were dating after an awful day, all the crying and warmth coming from his body eventually exhausting you, idly playing with the fabric of his black shirt. 

“Can I…” There’s clear doubt in his words, and despite the fact that his exhaustion matches yours, there’s one last thing he wants to do. You lift your head, brown eyes meeting your gaze. You could drown in those eyes— in the way they always seem so loving and kind, so gentle despite how brutal you know he can be as a soldier… and yet that’s Ghost, not Simon, you remind yourself. 

His hand comes up to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear, ultimately pushing himself to cup your cheek, his thumb lightly rubbing your soft, warm skin, still moistened by tears. You get the message almost instantly, yet admiring Simon when he looks so unsure of himself steals your attention for once. 

A small nod of affirmation meets his words, and Simon doesn’t waste any time, leaning down until his forehead rests against yours for a few seconds before his lips meet yours in a soft, tender kiss, the hand on your cheek caressing your skin gently, his eyes fluttering shut.

[PREVIOUS]

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[ariadnes-elixirs]

thinking about a yandere forgotten god...

(male yandere x gn mercenary reader)

part 1

tw: manipulative behavior, reader was lost at sea before the story began, reader also has self-worth issues

you felt soft, cool hands shaking you awake. your head felt like it was full of cotton, but you could faintly hear a masculine voice excitedly speaking, "good morning! sorry to wake you up, but i can't have you dying on your first day here!"

as you feel yourself waking up, you try to rack your brain to figure out how you got in this situation. you slowly become aware of the sand beneath your body and the feeling of waves ebbing and flowing near your legs. are you... on a beach?

you struggle to open your eyes, but you can feel those same hands prop you up into a sitting position. you feel a cool hand against your forehead, and you lean into the hand before you can stop yourself.

you hear the voice again, "you poor thing! you're burning up!" the voice sounded concerned, but through your muffled hearing you could also make out concealed... excitement?

you feel one arm move to support your back and another underneath your knees. you begin trying to open your eyes again, and as you do you can feel yourself being lifted off of the sandy beach. the voice pipes up again, "let me bring you inside! it's been so long since someone has washed up on my island!"

as you finally muster up the strength to open your eyes, you see the source of the voice you've been hearing and the person carrying you. he's a taller man with a dark, tanned complexion. he has long hair, with some strands styled into braids and gold adornments scattered throughout. one notable feature that stood out to you was golden, almost inhuman looking eyes.

a sudden wave of fatigue overwhelms you, as you feel the desire to sleep grow. you try to force yourself to stay awake, but you can only delay the inevitable for so long as your exhaustion catches up to you.

the person carrying you is still muttering, whether he's talking to you or himself is unclear, but it slowly fades out as you lose consciousness.

~

you wake up to a faint floral scent and the feeling of a soft, plush bed. you feel the silken sheets beneath you, nicer and cleaner than anything you've slept in within the past several years, possibly even your whole life. your head is resting on a downy, fluffy pillow, almost moulding to the shape of your head as you lay there.

during your years as a traveler and mercenary, you have become accustomed to the rough and scratchy sheets, rock-hard pillows, and damp musty rooms in whatever inn you could scrounge up enough coins to stay in.

you vaguely remember taking a job as a guard on a merchant's ship, but struggle to remember how you ended up in a bed that was definitely too nice to be something you belong in.

as your sleepy mind is processing as much as it can in your tired state, you hear footsteps approaching.

you start moving your arms and legs to sit up in the bed as you hear the voice from before. "oh! you're awake! i made some food for you, i'll be right back!!" followed by the sound hurried footsteps leaving whatever room you're in.

as you finally sit up and open your eyes, you start to take in the room you've found yourself in. it almost looks like... a cave? the walls are rocky and uneven, but still covered in ivy and lush vegetation. there are pieces of furniture you would expect to see in a normal bedroom, but there are also flowerpots all over the room, each filled with plants and flowers you've never seen before. you also notice a couple... bird nests? just... where are you?

you didn't even know who brought you here or how you ended up here. something about this situation felt off to you, and you start to process that this is somewhere you should not be and definitely don't belong.

suddenly you hear the sound of footsteps rushing back towards you and as he enters the room you can finally get a good look at the person who brought you away from the shore.

you vaguely remember seeing his dark skin and hair with gold pieces in it before, but you didn't remember much else. you immediately notice his clean, white clothes. which is typically impossible to attain and then maintain by people who have to dirty their hands for a living. a piece of fabric is draped over his shoulder, but most of his chest appears to be exposed. in addition to his hair adornments, his ears, arms, and neck are all covered in gold accessories. you also didn't notice just how long his hair was, reaching down to the middle of his back. you can tell that it is very well maintained and taken care of.

he walks over to you, carrying a tray of food. he smiles at you before stating "i found you washed up on shore, but i couldn't let you just lay there. you appeared ill when i found you, so you should definitely eat something healthy and rest as much as possible while you recover."

he places the tray of food on your lap as you process his words, "...thank you," you reply, "but... why would you help me?"

"well... it's not every day someone washes up on the my island's shores!" he giggles.

you think momentarily before replying, "so... how often does this happen?"

the question appears to catch him off guard, and his smile falters for a second as he looks away. "well... uh... this is... it's probably been... a couple hundred years, actually."

you process his response and start to pay closer attention to the feeling of unease thats been steadily growing within you as you interacted with the stranger.

if he was telling the truth, that would make him some kind of immortal being. a nymph? a god?

you were just some mercenary looking to make a living, and you certainly weren't strong enough to take on any kind of immortal. you feel more uncertainty creep in, there's no way he would actually care about some mercenary... he's... this has to be a trap, right?

he seems to notice your unease and anxiety regarding your current situation. he sighs gently and looks at the floor, "look, i know this must be scary for you. first being lost at sea and then washing up on some strange island. but... i really do want to help you," he smiles, "please, just let me take care of you, at least until you recover."

you still feel unsure, but what could you do? he has already helped you, he brought you into his... house... and let you sleep in his clean bed. which is... more than some mercenary deserves already...

you slowly shift your gaze down to the food on the tray he set on your lap. soup, bread, and some chicken. you pick up the spoon sitting next to the soup, submerge it in the soup, and sluggishly bring it to your lips.

it's... the best soup you've ever tasted.

he smiles at you as you eat and suddenly you remember you never asked for his name. "so uh, who exactly are... you?" you ask.

he giggles, "no one you would know, but i suppose humans do love their little names for things. now that i'm not alone anymore, maybe having a name would be a nice change of pace."

his word choice suggests the length of your stay will likely be... longer than you would have anticipated. but it's too late, he's definitely not going to let you go. he finally has someone to talk to, spend time with, embrace, love. why would he let this opportunity pass him by?

"you can call me cal, dear~" he chuckles to himself before continuing, "now eat up before your meal gets cold~"

a/n: yeah so he is definitely inspired by calypso from the odyssey eoriskwksla. i thought it would be a neat concept, especially if the person on the island did not have a significant other. he genuinely just wants to be around another person after being cursed and then forgotten after hundreds of years. he is super soft and sweet towards you though. however in classic yandere fashion, he also intends to make sure you never leave :)

[revelboo]

Im laughing so much rn. Somehow the starscram blokee came in first when it shipped way after megatron and shockwave. Did this boy really speedrun the mail system? 😭

Can't wait to put him together (on my tree)

Nice! I think TC and Skywarp are supposed to arrive today while I’m at work. I almost regret telling y’all about the figures, cause the price for singles on EBay went from about $13 each to $24 or more now. 🥲 JK- buy the Blokees so they release more characters

Even If It Kills Me Pt 9

Armada Starscream x Reader

• Servos cupping over you as you kick out a leg, twisting in his grip to make Runway lift his head with a tired warble. How many times does this make this week alone? When you’ve struggled, fighting against a dream. Or a nightmare and he has no idea how to fix it. How to help, but those small sounds of pain go straight to his spark, make him remember his own tormentor. Because that must be what’s haunting you. Even if it’s over and you’re safe now, the fear is still there, probably always will be. Venting tiredly, he strokes a servo against your spine. Aware of his mini-cons all watching now, upset that you’re upset. And optics shuttering, he begins murmuring at you. Singing in his gruff voice an old Seeker lullaby about bright, endless skies.

• Curling into yourself as you startle awake, you’re aware of a low humming, of guttural, strange sounds and intonations. He’s singing. Afraid to move in case he stops, you relax and listen to him, hearing an aching longing there even though you can’t understand the words. That ache calls to you and you remember the way he’d looked at you when he’d sat on the floor with you and the mini-cons. Like he’d wanted something. Wondering now if he’d wanted you to join him. Sit with him and share a meal. Realizing, you want that even if you know better. Know that hoping for a place to belong can only hurt you.

• Singing faltering when you shift on top of him and he allows you to sit up, he looks down at you. “Please,” you say, those haunted eyes making his spark ache unexpectedly. “Please, don’t stop.” Watching you reach up and scrub at your eyes, he presses the tips of his servos against your spine, feeling the beat of your heart. And even though he knows his voice isn’t meant for this, isn’t soft and soothing, he sings for you and feels you twist slightly to curl yourself against his palm. So softly, he nearly misses it, you hum along to a song you can’t understand, your little voice lifting and becoming haunting. The song becoming about loss and hope, your voices twining together.

• When the song fades, he reaches up to touch your cheek, those big hands so gentle. “You should rest. I have you,” he says, tone gentle despite how gruff his voice is. And you want to believe him. Want to hope this can last, that you’re safe. That you won’t somehow ruin this, even if you don’t deserve to have this. Standing and slowly picking your way over his chassis, aware of his servos hovering to catch you if you stumble, he frowns at you. Laying a palm on his chin, you lean against his face to press a kiss against his cheek. See his optics widen slightly as though shocked that you’d done that.

• “You’re a sweetheart,” you say, smiling at him even though your expression is still so sad. Spark warming, he watches you make your way back to his chassis and lay down again. Draping his servos over you, he lays there listening until your breathing evens out before reaching up to touch his face where your soft mouth had brushed against him. Venting softly, he stares at the ceiling and thinks about broken things. If they can ever really be fixed or if those broken edges will always remain. If you’re both too broken to even begin trying to fix each other.

Previous

Next

But I’m too tired to go to sleep tonight

And I’m too weak to follow dreams tonight

For the first time in a long time I can say

That I want to try to get better and

Overcome each moment

In my own way

I’m not saying that I’m giving up

I’m just trying not to think as much as I used to

Cause "never" is a lonely little messed up word

Maybe I’ll get it right some day

For the first time in a long time I can say

That I want to try

I feel helpless for the most part

But I’m learning to open my eyes

And the sad truth of the matter is

I’ll never get over it

But I’m gonna try

To get better and overcome each moment

In my own way

[ikkyfics]

This is my first time requesting so I'm a little nervous!

Could you maybe write for Dave with a partner that has insomnia and really struggles with sleeping?

For example he would sometimes wake up at like 4 am and just see her on her phone wide awake?

Thank you if you decide to write this! Also please don't push yourself and take care! :)

Until You Sleep

Dave Lizewski x f!reader

Summary: When he entered, the steaming cup in his hand, you looked up at him, surprised. “Dave, you didn’t have to...” “I did, actually,” he interrupted with a soft smile. “Here. There’s nothing better than lavender tea to help you relax. Trust me, I researched everything about this.”

Warnings: none!

A/N: dear, i really hope you like this <333 it was a really cute request to write, please also take care

Masterlist

Dave had noticed you. It wasn’t that he hadn’t been paying attention before, but in the past few weeks, something felt different. You had been quieter, your eyes a little glazed, as if they were constantly tired. There were faint, but persistent dark circles that he had noticed while you bent over your college books or during the rare mornings when he woke up before you. It was as if insomnia had stolen some of the sparkle he loved so much about you, and that worried him more than he could express.

That night, Dave woke up suddenly. He wasn’t even sure what had woken him, but he instinctively turned to your side of the bed. You were there, still lying down, but something was wrong. Your silhouette, lit only by the faint blue light from your phone, was still, except for the soft movement of your fingers on the screen.

He blinked a few times, his messy dark curls falling over his forehead as he propped himself up on an elbow to get a better look. The first thing he noticed was the loose shirt you were wearing – one of his, navy blue, with the sleeves rolled up at your wrists. It was a sight that usually made his heart race with happiness, but now it only made him more aware of the fact that something was wrong.

“Hey,” he called, his voice still rough from sleep, but full of a sweetness he reserved only for you. “You couldn’t sleep, huh?”

You froze for a moment, as if you didn’t want him to know, but then sighed and lowered your phone. “I didn’t want to wake you...” your voice came out low, almost apologetic.

Dave leaned in closer, now lying on his side to face you. His blue eyes, even in the dark, had an intensity that made it seem like he could see much more than just your tired face. He reached out a hand to you, his warm fingers brushing against the cool skin of your arm. The touch was gentle, a silent request for you to look at him.

“You’ve seemed so tired lately. I’m worried,” the sincerity in his voice was enough to make you finally meet his gaze.

He slid his fingers down your arm until he was holding your hand, squeezing it lightly. “I know you’re trying to handle this on your own, but... let me help. I don’t like seeing you like this.”

There was something in his tone – a mix of determination and affection – that was so typically Dave. He wasn’t just awake; he was present. Completely focused on you, as if nothing else in the world mattered at that moment.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were feeling like this?” he asked, his other hand gently brushing a strand of hair from your face.

You hesitated for a moment, averting your gaze to the phone still in your hand. Dave’s fingers, warm and firm, traced a gentle pattern on your arm, as if he were trying to convey calm through touch. His question echoed in your mind, simple yet full of meaning. He wasn’t just curious; he wanted to understand, wanted to know how he could help.

“I... didn’t want to bother you,” you murmured, finally responding. Your voice sounded fragile, almost a whisper. “You have so much going on with college, with assignments... It didn’t seem fair.”

Dave shook his head almost immediately, his messy curls moving with him. “That’s not how it works, you know? We’re in this together. If you’re not okay, then I’m not okay. That’s what being together means.”

He squeezed your hand a little tighter, leaning in closer. His eyes were soft, but there was determination in them, a quiet strength that made you want to believe every word he said. “You’ll never be alone in this, okay? No matter what.”

A brief, shy smile appeared at the corner of your lips, but you still seemed hesitant. Dave noticed. He always noticed. Without letting go of your hand, he leaned in closer and placed a soft, lingering kiss on your cheek, just below your eye. It was such a simple gesture, but full of affection that made your chest warm.

“Wait for me here,” he said, his voice low, almost a secret shared between you two. “I’ll be right back.”

Before you could ask what he was doing, he got up. Dave was just in sweatpants, the muscles in his back moving smoothly as he walked to the kitchen. You followed his movement, his messy curls and broad shoulders a reminder of how he had changed since high school. He was stronger now, but still the same Dave – kind, caring, always willing to put you first.

In the kitchen, he moved with careful quietness, trying not to make noise. He opened the small cabinet where you kept the teas and scanned the packages. He had bought those flavors specifically for you, after a long night researching about insomnia. The promises of relaxation and calm were printed on the packages in soft fonts, almost as if they were the solution to everything.

“Chamomile... or maybe lavender?” he murmured to himself, holding both packets for a moment before choosing the lavender one.

While the water heated up, Dave rested his hands on the counter and glanced down the hallway, where he could see the faint light from the lamp illuminating the bedroom. He wanted to do more. He wanted to find a way to lift the weight that seemed to have settled on you, even if it was an invisible weight.

When the kettle whistled, he quickly made the tea, adding a small spoon of honey – just the right amount of sweetness. He made sure it was the right temperature before heading back to the bedroom.

You were still lying there, the phone now resting beside you. When he entered, the steaming cup in his hand, you looked up at him, surprised.

“Dave, you didn’t have to...”

“I did, actually,” he interrupted with a soft smile. He sat down beside you on the bed, holding the cup carefully to avoid spilling it. “Here. There’s nothing better than lavender tea to help you relax. Trust me, I researched everything about this.”

You took the cup, your fingers brushing his for a moment. The warmth of the porcelain matched his expression – so warm, so full of affection.

“You really researched it?”

“Of course I did.” He seemed genuinely proud of himself, the smile on his face growing wider. “And you wouldn’t believe how many forums I read about what works to help someone sleep. Seriously, some people even suggest smelling soaps.”

You chuckled softly, the first time in days, and Dave looked at you as if he had just won the biggest prize in the world.

“That’s so silly,” you said, but you were still smiling.

“It might be, but if it works, I’ll do it.” He leaned in closer, his eyes sparkling with that intensity so typical of him. “Anything to see you feel better.”

The silence settled back in, but this time it was different. There was no discomfort, only his presence, solid and comforting, like a safe harbor for the storms brewing in your mind.

Dave watched as you held the cup with both hands, blowing gently on the tea before taking a sip. He didn’t take his eyes off you for a second, as if every small movement you made deserved his full attention. It was that kind of thing that made him special – the way he was completely present, even in the simplest moments.

“Is it good?” he asked, his blue eyes fixed on yours.

You nodded, a small smile forming at the corner of your lips. “It’s perfect. Lavender with honey... you really pay attention to everything.”

“Of course I do,” he responded immediately, with a smile that made your heart warm. “I’m your boyfriend. It’s like... my mission to know what makes you feel good.”

The way he said it was so genuine, so full of affection, that you couldn’t help but smile even wider. He seemed satisfied to see it, as if that small gesture was confirmation that he was on the right path.

While you finished making the tea, Dave adjusted himself beside you on the bed, leaning back against the headboard with the pillow folded behind him. He was closer now, and you could feel the warmth radiating from his body, strong and secure.

“You know,” he started, his voice low, as if sharing a secret, “some people say that ambient sounds help with sleep. Like... rain noises, ocean waves... things like that.”

You tilted your head, curious, as you placed the empty cup on the nightstand. “Did you find that in your late-night research?”

“I did,” he admitted, laughing at himself. “I read a bunch of reports. There are even apps for that, you know? I thought about downloading one, but then I started wondering... what would I do if you said you preferred the sound of a waterfall or something impossible to replicate?”

You laughed softly, and he smiled along with you, as if the sound of your laughter was the answer to all his questions. He extended an arm, gently pulling you closer until your head rested on his chest.

“Well,” you began, your voice slightly muffled, the words vibrating against the firm skin of his chest, “I think I don’t need rain or waterfall sounds.”

“Oh, you don’t?” he asked, lowering his gaze to you.

You shook your head, a near-childlike gesture, as you slipped one arm around his waist, snuggling in closer. “I think I prefer listening to your heartbeat. It’s the most relaxing sound I know.”

Dave was silent for a moment, clearly surprised by your response. Then, his smile widened, lighting up his face in a way that made your chest tighten. He tilted his head slightly, pressing a lingering kiss to the top of your head, while his hand began gently caressing your back.

“You’re unbearably cute, you know that?” he said, his voice almost a whisper.

“You like it,” you replied, with a mischievous smile he didn’t need to see to know it was there.

“I love it,” he corrected, without hesitation. “And I love you. Far more than I can explain.”

Your face was pressed against his chest, and you could hear the steady, constant sound of Dave’s heartbeat. It was a rhythm that brought an almost immediate sense of security, as if the outside world could wait while the two of you remained like this, together.

“It’s beating fast,” you murmured, your voice soft and sleepy, as if it was more of a stray thought than something that needed to be said.

Dave laughed softly, a sound that reverberated through his body and reached you. “It’s your fault, you know?”

“My fault?” You lifted your face just enough to look at him, your brow slightly arched in confusion.

“Of course,” he replied, his blue eyes shining with amusement and something deeper, something more intimate. “You’re here, all cute, wearing my shirt... saying things that make my heart almost jump out of my chest. How do you expect it to stay calm?”

A shy smile appeared on your face, and you looked away, pressing your cheek back against his chest. Before fully resting, you left a delicate kiss there, right where you could feel the accelerated beats. It was such a small gesture, but it carried so much affection that Dave sighed, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you closer, as if wanting to protect you from anything that might disturb you.

“You’re so silly,” he said, but there was a clear smile in his voice. “But, my God, I love this so much.”

You didn’t answer immediately, letting the comfortable silence fill the space between you. It was the kind of silence that didn’t need to be broken because it was full of meaning. The sound of your breaths blended together, and the warmth of his body beside you seemed to dissipate any trace of tension that might still have lingered.

After a few minutes, Dave spoke again, his voice low and soft, as if afraid to break the moment. “I’ll stay awake until you fall asleep.”

“You don’t need to do that,” you replied, your voice slightly muffled against his chest.

“Of course I do,” he said, as if it were obvious. “You’re the most important person in my life. If you can’t sleep, I can’t just ignore that.”

There was a pause, and he took the time to run his fingers through your hair, the movements slow and meticulous. It was a touch you knew he did on purpose because he knew how much it helped relax you.

“Dave...” you began, but your voice faltered slightly.

“Hmm?” He continued with his fingers in your hair, but tilted his head slightly to look at you.

“You make everything feel... easier,” you admitted, your eyes beginning to close as the fatigue finally started to take over. “Even when it feels impossible to sleep... with you, I feel like I can. I love you.”

Dave didn’t answer immediately but left a soft kiss on the top of your head, his warm breath against your hair. “It’s because you don’t have to do anything alone,” he whispered, as if it were a promise. “I’ll always be here, okay? Always.”

The sound of his heartbeat remained steady, and the arms around you were firm and comforting. For the first time in weeks, you felt your eyelids growing heavy for real, and before you could even realize it, sleep finally began to pull you under.

And Dave, as promised, stayed awake, watching you with a soft smile on his lips, as if taking care of you was the only thing in the world that truly mattered.

[withleeknow]

minho and https://open.spotify.com/track/4gAIUEY7VkeiKQOPwIYaYb?si=oZNdDS-aTUm9V7bEycscDQ 🩷🩷

flower.

pairing: minho x reader genre/warnings: established relationship, fluff, a teeny bit angsty?; minho's pov word count: 0.7k note: i am very sorry if this is bad i wrote most of this while half asleep so please forgive me kshdkfhsk

as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

main masterlist / request masterlist / ko-fi

one day if a flower blooms in your heart would you be able to understand me?

Flower - DANIEL

minho has been up for a while now, just lying here with you as you snuggle close to him like you can't help but gravitate toward him even in your sleep. one of his hands slips under your shirt where he gently traces the smooth skin of your waist, careful not to rouse you from slumber.

he fails though. maybe a particular swipe of thumb over your body was too ticklish.

"you're so warm."

the words come out a little slurred, a little muffled from where your face is tucked into the crook of his neck, safe and sound on this chilly saturday morning. you stir awake for long enough just to say that, and before he knows it, you're off to dreamland once more, from where you probably won't return for at least another hour or so.

minho halts instantly. you're none the wiser, still sleeping peacefully with your soft breaths fanning his collarbones.

cold, mean, unwelcoming, standoffish, callous. you could name any synonym of these words and he's probably been called that before, by friends and by strangers alike. some of them didn't utter it with malicious intent, but rather it was only a passing comment said in a teasing manner, with a lightheartedness that they didn't think he would mind because, well, apparently he just didn't have enough heart to take it as anything other than a joke.

he's used to it, he's gotten numb to it. somewhere along the way, minho accepted that maybe his name is merely one of those synonyms. it's fine, it doesn't matter. he doesn't really mind it because at the end of the day, none of these people could ever be you.

you're the only person whose opinion he cares about. when all is said and done, he doesn't care if the rest of the world thinks cold and heartless, as long as you know who he is. you're the only thing that matters; everything else just simply... falls away.

he's always struggled with opening up, even if the person on the receiving end is you. it doesn't come naturally to him at all. minho was never raised to be openly affectionate, and it just isn't an inherent trait that he possesses. he's not the kind of guy that tells you he loves you every hour of every day, nor is he the type to smother you with gifts and kisses and grand gestures on a daily basis.

no, minho's love comes quietly, rooted in almost every mundane aspect of life that it's often easy to miss if you don't know where to look. his love comes in the form of packed lunches and home-cooked dinners, of a blanket draped over your form after you've fallen asleep at your desk while working on a project for work. of his hand holding tightly onto yours when you get overwhelmed in crowded places. of his eyes always looking at you as though you're the eighth wonder of the world and he'll never get tired of being mesmerized by you. of texts asking if you've eaten. of sporadic videos of soondoongdori simply sleeping or munching on treats, accompanied by no other message or explanation.

there's a million ways that minho cares for you; he doesn't have to shout it from the rooftops for you to know. you do know, and that's enough for the both of you.

but it's not until you uttered those simple words just now that minho realizes how much he needed to hear them out loud. he's well aware that you didn't mean it like that. you meant it quite literally, because sometimes he does run hot and you've always loved that. your personal human furnace to keep you nice and toasty whenever you wanted. he knows it and yet, he still lets the words wiggle their way inside his ribcage and make a home there. they settle somewhere beside his heart and mend something in him that he didn't notice was cracked and chipped, worn away after years and years of people telling him he was callous.

minho isn't sure how long he's been holding his breath, but the very second he inhales again, everything feels lighter, like he's finally leaving behind some of the weight that he's been carrying with him his whole life.

his fingers resume their ministrations on your soft skin as he presses a kiss to your forehead. he holds you a little tighter, and everything feels like it's going to be okay.

even in your half-asleep state with your mind completely elsewhere, you still manage to take his breath away. maybe you really are the eighth wonder of the world after all.

all rights reserved © withleeknow. reposting, translating and/or modifying is not permitted by any means. [posted 19.05.2024]

[rabbitblackx]

I really love your works!! Could i please request our quiet boys (Jason and Michael) getting scared by reader not waking up in the morning, think this way, reader loves to make breakfeast for them, or even wake them up with kisses, and even when they wake up before reader, they are too easy to wake, but age comes for everyone, and one day they just wake up before reader and they just wont budge, what would they do? ((reader is alive!!! they were just having a good sleep 😉))

Ahh thank u!!! :’)💞

Michael and Jason when Reader won’t wake up

Michael Myers💖

Michael was very much used to waking up to the smell of you making breakfast. That, or having to shove you off him from kissing him. So this morning, you could’ve imagined his displeasure to find you still asleep

Michael slowly rose from bed, beady eyes locked on your sleeping form. He lost internet in you quickly though, throwing his legs over the bed and getting up. Usually, this was when you would stir awake. He was aware that he was warm and… cuddly. The instant lack of this next you should’ve done the trick, but you still slept

Michael decided that he was not starting his morning without you. He was not making his own breakfast. He walked over to your side of the bed, looming over you menacingly. Instead of stabbing the shit out of you, he rose his hands and shook you. You did not budge. Michael shook you harder, harder, rougher—but still nothing. He tilted his head. You weren’t…? Dead, were you…?

You laid before the killer dead still, draped in blankets with a relaxed face. Michael lifted his pointer finger, and jabbed it roughly into your cheek. No reaction

In a fit of panic, Michael grabbed the sheet itself from under the mattress and yanked it up. He threw it to the floor, with you, the pillows and blankets all inside

“MICHAEL, WHAT THE HELL?” You screeched from under the pile of bedding

Michael stared down at the mess he made, feeling a little silly… okay, you were clearly not dead. Now what? You struggled to get out of your bedsheet cocoon, not really understanding what was happening. When you finally broke free, you looked at the bare mattress on your bed, then at Michael

“What the hell happened?” You demanded

Michael obviously didn’t reply. He was just relieved you were alive, and a little embarrassed. He simply left the room, to the kitchen and set his butt down at the table. Okay, you were awake. It was Michael’s breakfast time now :)

Jason Voorhees💖

Jason was always lovingly stirred from sleep by the smell of hot breakfast on the table. That, or you attacking his unmasked face in kisses. It didn’t matter which. He was happy with either. But this morning, Jason woke up before you

You laid there next to him, stiff as a board and draped in blankets. He stared down at you for a few moments, before rising from the bed. Usually, the loss of warmth and weight from Jason woke you up. But you still slept…

Jason stood there awkwardly, waiting for you to stir. He didn’t care for starting his morning without you. He had grown too attached. When you still wouldn’t budge, he shuffled over to your side of the bed and shook you. Still nothing

Jason tore the blankets off your body, shaking you rougher than before. He was starting to get a little worried now. He grabbed your face in his big hand, shaking your head too. He hadn’t felt panic in so long, and didn’t know what to do. Jason grabbed you by your ankle, and tugged you off the bed with a mighty pull

“Ow!”

You hit the floor face first, your limbs all jumbled up. You turned on your side, an unimpressed frown on your lips as your stared up at the culprit. Jason’s eyes widened in surprise, tense shoulders slowing relaxing

“Jason…? Why am I on the floor?”

Jason bent over slightly to carefully pull you back up, perching your bum on the bed. He stared down at you for a few long moments, looking like a guilty dog. You were too tired and grumpy to break the silence, your arms crossed over your chest

Jason was overcome with an alien joy that you weren’t dead. He didn’t know what he’d do without you. He slowly sat down next to you, shakily wrapping his strong arms around you. It was hard to stay mad at him. You leaned your head against him, offering a sleepy hum

[oliversrarebooks]

lay down on the operating table

TW: forced sedation, experimentation, restraints, struggling

Lay down on the operating table for us. I know you're upset about being experimented on and brainwashed, but it's for the greater good. You'll feel much better about it once we've sedated you. These restraints are for your own safety. Just put your arm down, and -- there we go, all secured. Just relax. There's no point in fighting. You should know that by now.

That's right, soon you'll be trapped inside a body that's too heavy and too drowsy to move, completely relaxed, unable to focus on anything but how much you want to sleep. Every fiber of your body will be relaxed. Your eyelids will become too heavy to keep open. The sedation will slowly overwhelm you until you can't fight it any more. 

And once you're asleep, no matter what is done to you, you will not resist. You won't even be aware of what is happening. You'll be completely at our mercy, sleeping so peacefully. Once the sedative starts to kick in, you won't even remember a thing.

Here, let me put the mask on you and secure it. It's only oxygen. Now breath in deeply. One deep relaxing breath for me. In and out. That's it. Another deep breath. In and out. Good.

Now I am going to start the drug that will put you to sleep. It'll take a few minutes to work, but soon it's going to make you very, very relaxed, and very, very sleepy. No use holding your breath. Just breath normally. There you go.

That's it. Relax and let the sedative work its magic on you. You'll start to feel drowsy and floaty as the drug enters your system. Your eyes will become heavy, and you'll let them drift shut. Your mind will blank, leaving you so relaxed. Do you feel it yet?

You're starting to look a bit dazed. The sedation is beginning to work, I think. You're feeling nice and relaxed, aren't you? And so sleepy. I can see your eyes blinking so slowly. No, no, it's no use to struggle against the restraints. Eventually, you'll stop fighting it and go to sleep. 

Your body is becoming heavy and your mind is growing hazy. Just lie back on the table, yes, that's good. Take another deep breath. Is that a yawn? Is the gas making you drowsy? You're starting to feel it affecting you, aren't you? Lying there, staring up at the ceiling, fighting those heavy eyelids.

I bet you feel so calm and peaceful. Like you want to let yourself drift off to sleep, right?

Your body and mind are relaxing and becoming more sedated, and there's so little you can do about it. Your eyelids want to drift shut. That tiredness is spreading all throughout your body. Is it starting to get hard to keep your eyes open? Is your head starting to feel heavy? Do you feel like you could fall asleep at any moment if you wanted to?

Yes, that's how the sedative is supposed to make you feel -- calm, relaxed, heavy, sleepy. You're fighting your body's natural urges to go to sleep. You'll lose that battle. You are going to go to sleep. 

Did you realize that you've stopped struggling against the restraints? It looks like you can barely keep your eyes open. Slowly and surely, the sedative is putting you to sleep, and there's nothing you can do about it. It's no use fighting those heavy, tired eyelids. They're shutting all on their own.

That's right, you're completely unable to fight the sedation. It's strong and powerful. It will make you feel floaty and drowsy and oh so blissful. It will override your desire to stay awake. It was all over the second we started the drug, and you knew that.

The sedation is conquering your body and soon it will conquer your mind. Your body will fall asleep soon. Let yourself stop fighting, let sleep claim your helpless body. Let sleep take you. Let the sedation claim you. Let your eyelids close. 

You're becoming drowsy, drowsier and sleepier. Soon your eyelids will close, and you will give in to the sedation, and you will be so docile and pliant and entirely at my mercy. Are you ready for that? The moment when your eyelids close will be the point of no return. A fleeting moment when you are not yet asleep and not quite awake. A moment where you know you've lost the fight, where you feel utterly helpless.

There we go. Shut those sleepy eyes for me. Don't open them again. Let the sedative put you fast asleep. There we go, fall asleep. Go to sleep, deep asleep. So deeply asleep. It feels so good to stop fighting and go to sleep. And now that you've fallen asleep, we can do whatever experiments we please.

Now, we can get to work.

[artsarasp]

(Oh god I hope I’m doing this right🫠) uuuummm ask game with “SOMETHING sy and bingge” ???? I love your art and writing so much it makes me crazy 😔😔😔

You're doing great and I love u, Thank u so much <3

"SOMETHING sy and bingge" is a little one-shot I wrote where SY from syonr meets Bingge in a dream!

I think I can share the whole thing since I'm probably not gonna add anything to it- please forgive the nonexistent grammar, I'm too tired to fix it.

Shen Yuan wasn't aware that he wasn't simply dreaming. 

He might have been. 

If he hadn't left his system on silent, the notification of a brand new side quest would have been a giveaway. 

But as it stood now, he had no clue anything was amiss when the beautiful, dark-haired figure he only remembered from his fanmade posters back home stood in front of him.

Luo Binghe. 

It wasn't his Binghe, his friend was still shorter than him at this point and his demon heritage was still firmly locked away. The man in front of him was- Wow! Truly out of the final chapters of Proud Immortal Demon Way! 

Tall and Handsome, his curly dark hair cascading on his shoulders artfully and framing his face perfectly, letting his shiny zuiyin peek from behind his locks just enough to paint, overall, unfairly beautiful picture. 

No wonder every woman fell into the guy's bed! Who wouldn't?

Shen Yuan couldn't help a little squeal of excitement when he spotted Xin Mo– Xin Mo! Was in his hands! He could act a little excited about it, it was a dream after all! He didn’t have to hold back his inner fanboy 

“Can I hold Xin Mo?” He asked before Luo Binghe could say anything. 

Shen Yuan had paid no mind to how the man had been staring at him until then, his mind probably couldn't come up with more cool things to have this perfect copy of Binghe do. 

Just existing was cool enough!

But now that he was waiting for an answer he paid more attention to the movements of the demon emperor. Luo Binghe seemed startled by the request. He looked down at the sword, then back at Shen Yuan. 

“You know its name. “ He said. 

Shen Yuan scoffed and rolled his eyes. 

“Of course I know its name! It's the strongest sword in the world!” What sort of question was this? Brain please make the cool Binghe of his dreams not make dumb questions. 

Luo Binghe's eyes narrowed, then he stepped closer to Shen Yuan. 

He was huge compared to him in his stupid teen body. Shen Yuan might have stepped back if he were awake simply because Luo Binghe's presence was the sort that made you want to shrink back in fear. 

But it was only a dream! It was his favorite character in front of him, in all his glory! He couldn't help the grinning from ear to ear. 

Binghe seemed… confused by this. 

Shen Yuan hummed, still waiting for an answer. He thought, maybe this version of Binghe was slightly influenced by how he saw his own Binghe. This close up, If he looked at him right, with just a tilt of his head to the side he could spot tiny details this version of Binghe shared with his friend. 

Despite the age difference they made the same expression when they were confused, their eyebrows creased in the same way, their eyes darted to the side then back down like always. It made him smile more. 

“Do you know it's cursed? “ Luo Binghe asks. 

“Duh!” He has to roll his eyes again. Really, brain. What sort of questions are you making him ask? “ It's only a dream, what harm can it do?” He says instead. 

Binghe keeps staring at him but this time Shen Yuan is not able to read that expression, it's not like any his friend has shown before. Then a smile paints itself on the demon's face. 

“You can hold the sword if you answer some questions I have.” He says. 

Shen Yuan grimaces. Not even in his dreams can he just have a cool thing! Knowing his brain, Binghe is gonna ask him to recite that poem he's been struggling to copy down in calligraphy class. ugh. 

“Okay, but no questions on the curriculum!” 

Ah, there's that confused expression again. that's funny. 

Binghe clears his throat. 

“Are you Shen Jiu?”

Shen yuan blinks. Who's that supposed to be now? Ah, wasn't that Shen Qingqiu’s name before ascension? bah, it didn't matter!

 “No, That's Shizun. I'm Shen Yuan. Let me hold the sword now” He reached for the hilt but Binghe simply raised it out of his reach. Then he had the nerve to look amused. 

Look at you already abusing your height A-Luo! 

“I said questions.” He mocked. “Do you recognize me? You don't seem scared.”

What sort of interview was this? He crossed his arms. 

“How many questions? Give me a number!” He wasn't about to have his dream end before being able to hold the sword!

The demon smiled. “A thousand.”

“Eh?! That's so unfair, Binghe!” Shen Yuan cried “I'm gonna wake up before even reaching half of that! Heartless! “

The demon seemed even more amused at the teen's outburst. 

Then the hilt of Xin Mo was presented to Shen Yuan. 

He let out an undignified squeal again and reached for the sword. only to have it yanked back up before he could touch it again. 

Unfair!!! He was being bullied by the hot future version of his best friend!!! 

“I changed my mind, I don't want to hold Xin Mo.” He pouted. 

A small laugh left the demon emperor. 

—

Luo Binghe was known across the three realms as the immortal demon emperor. 

He was known by now for taking what he wanted.

 In his search for his “Nice Shizun” he hadn’t thought he’d find so many different versions of him. Sometimes his nice shizun wasn’t his shizun at all. Sometimes it was a nice shishu, sometimes it was a nice stranger, sometimes it was a nice shidi.

This “Nice Shizun” seemed to be the main variant missing from his life, every other world he visited had some version of it, only his didn’t. 

Why, he couldn’t understand. But he wouldn’t wallow in how unfair his life was, he’d stopped doing that when he first hit the bottom of the abyss.

He just needed to find the perfect nice Shizun to steal for himself. Have another version of himself suffer like he did. it would only be fair. 

Maybe the nice Shidi could work.

[uselessmoonlight]

Stranger part 2

Reader is Telemachus' friend, and when he leaves for his "diplomatic mission" he asks her to watch over his mother.

Later, once the king has returned, she stumbles upon an injured Poseidon.

Previous / series masterlist / Next

Content specs: she/her pronouns used, afab reader, Platonic!Telemachus x reader, unrequited love, blood, fighting, nudity, illusion, possibly more?, trying to avoid using y/n, slowburn, suggestive themes, but no smut, English is not my first language, sorry if it's too much exposition, it's my first fic.

Also, I'm aware a God would have gold blood, but he's disguised himself, so somehow he's also changed the colour of his blood, idc.

However tired she was, sleep would have to wait. This person needed help, and it was her duty to provide it. While he was technically not her guest, this part of the shore was basically her backyard, so she felt obliged.

It took quite some effort to get the man inside her home, even more to get him onto the bed, where she'd be able to attend to his wounds. The man almost had more wounds than flesh on his torso. It was rather surprising that he was still breathing at all.

With this strange man on her bed, she didn't really have anywhere she could rest. Not that she could, with a stranger in her home. She lived in a very modest house, if you could even call it that. She had 2 rooms, one for bathing and one for everything else. The latter only fitting a bed, a table with two chairs, and some kitchen essentials. Most of her cooking she did outside, but for rainy or cold days, she did have a pot inside.

Until high noon, she'd sat on one of the chairs, watching the man, not even daring to wash herself. She had treated her wounds, however. Well, to the best of her abilities, at least. Her chiton was splattered with blood, both her own and that of the suitors, and most of her body was also covered with splashes.

But fatigue was winning from fear and caution. She'd been awake since yesterday morning, had fought hard through the night, and was injured herself. Trying to stay awake was like fighting a losing battle, pointless, only to preserve ones pride, and peach would not go down without a fight.

She's only been asleep for about an hour when she awoke from the noise within her home. The man had woken up and was struggling to get out of bed. Hundreds of questions flashed through her mind, questions she'd wanted to ask this stranger, but according to Xenia, it would be rude to do so.

"It'd be best if you were to remain still." She warned gently.

The man's head snapped towards her. He'd either not seen her yet or hadn't expected her to wake up so soon.

"You're rather injured. It would be a shame if your bandages became undone, took quite some work to put them on." She was met with silence as the man studied her.

His silence irked her, but at least he’d stopped struggling. Perhaps he was too injured to speak, mute, or he’d travelled too far from home and did not share her language. Now that his eyes were open, she’d found them to be a striking blue.

“I was unable to go to the market today, so I haven’t got any food to offer you, but I can catch us some fish and get some fruit to eat.” She said to the man “I’d just have to leave you, some stranger, alone in my house, with all my possessions.” She muttered under her breath. Peach could’ve sworn she’d seen the man smirk at her as she’d whispered to herself. Did he find her predicament amusing? Or had she correctly assumed his intentions to rob her?

Either way she herself was starving too, and fishing could include an improvised scrub to wash away last night. “I’ll be close by, just call out if you are in need of assistance.” She paused. “You are able to do so, right?”

“Yes.” The man grunted, his voice like honey and smoke. She half expected him to say more, to berate her for asking her guest a question before offering him a proper meal. She knew her question was not the kind Xenia spoke of, but still. Hospitality laws were a delicate thing, she did not want to offend the man, or worse, invoke the wrath of the Gods. Peach nodded her head in acknowledgement, and all but sprinted out the door. She grabbed her axes on the way out, not wanting to give the man the opportunity to arm himself while she was away.

First she scrubbed off the grime, the dirt would lure back the fish she’d scared away by disturbing the water. Then she sent a prayer to both Glaucus and Poseidon. She did not have a patron God, or at least not yet, just like she did not have a job. Well technically she did have a job, but she did not get paid for it. She was a protector, she’d protected the queen for a week, she’d protect the priestesses of Dionysus during their intoxicating rituals, and there were many other instances where she’d protect those who could not protect themselves.

She helped around the village, too. Harvesting the fruits that were too high up to reach, when the farmers boy got too heavy for the branches of the trees. Helping the shepherd find his lost sheep or protecting them from wolves. Going out with the fishermen when the tides and fish were not in their favour. This was what kept her fed and clothed.

But now she found herself protecting this stranger. Peach was protecting this man from the elements, by allowing him in her home, protecting him from injury, by cleaning and dressing his wounds, and now she was protecting him from starvation, by catching him food.

It had not taken peach long for her to catch a nice, large fagri. It would be enough to feed them both, had she been alone she could stretch it at least 3 days, combined with the peaches from her tree. Alas she was not. The peach tree next to her house, the one that had been the reason for her nickname, or part of, had not a lot of ripe fruits yet. Only those at the very top would be good for eating, and even then they’d not be quite sweet enough to eat just so. While peach didn’t hold a candle to the palace chef, she was not a bad cook.

On the fire outside she’d made a surprisingly tasty meal, and now she sat once more in her home, watching the stranger laid in her bed. Normally she would not allow anyone to eat on her mattress, but this guy was too injured to move himself, and she was not going through the struggle of moving him again.

As peach was picking at her food, she wondered, if he was sleeping in her bed tonight, where would she rest?

Next

A/N: possible only one bed trope?

[thisapplepielife]

Written for the @steddieholidaydrabbles pop-up Spring challenge.

Sprung

Prompt: Spring | Word Count: 1000 | Rating: T | CW: None | Tags: Future Fic, Established Relationship, Struggling to Make Ends Meet, Light Angst, Sacrifice, Love, Making a Life Together

"Steve, please," Eddie says, and Steve stills.

"I thought you were asleep?" Steve whispers in the dark, and Eddie's not sure why Steve's trying to be quiet at this point. They're both awake now. Steve's made sure of that.

"I was," Eddie huffs out, annoyed, because he had been. But Steve's constant flopping around has ruined that. Steve's become the world's shittest sleeper lately, and that's not exactly ideal in a bed partner.

"Sorry," Steve says, stilling, "I'll try to stop moving around."

Eddie just mutters something that he hopes passes as a thanks, and rolls back over. He has to get up at six, and he fucking needs his four hours. That's not too much to ask for, goddamnit. 

Steve's still for a few minutes, but then rolls over in his sleep, again, and the whole bed shifts and shakes. Again. Eddie's had enough, and snags his pillow off the bed, padding down the hallway to crash on the couch. He's exhausted. He can't do this tonight. He can't.

He still wakes up tired, because it was too cold in the living room. Their shitty radiators either don't work, or boil you. No middle ground. Fucking shithole. But it's the best they can do for now, since they're barely keeping their heads above water, as is. Working just to live. It's been hard. Harder than Eddie expected, and he grew up with fucking hard. 

He'd hoped they'd be past that now, hoped he'd finally catch a goddamn break.

Of course not.

It's the Munson curse. 

And now Eddie's in a bad mood, even as Steve's pouring coffee into Wayne's old thermos for him, packing Eddie's metal lunchbox, to keep him going on the jobsite all day. 

"Thanks," Eddie says, taking it, and Steve just nods silently, clearly aware Eddie's in a mood this morning.

Eddie worries they're circling the drain, from circumstances alone. It's not a love problem, it's a life problem, and that makes it worse.

And before long, Eddie realizes he broke the seal, having introduced a new wedge between them. Now that the couch is in play, they aren't even sleeping in the same bed most nights anymore. Steve will go, or he will, and now they're sleeping apart more nights a week than they sleep together. Maybe they're getting more rest, but they're also growing even further apart. 

Today, Eddie's coffee and lunch are on the counter, but Steve's already in the shower, and their ten minutes together in the morning are gone.

Just like that.

Eddie grabs his work boots from the closet, flopping down on Steve's side of the bed to put them on, and he's suddenly assaulted, poked right in the ass by whatever Steve's left laying on the mattress. 

Standing up, he's sliding his hand over the bed in the dark to see what the fuck he sat on. Nothing. He yanks the sheets back, and there's still nothing, so he strips it further.

It's a spring. 

And it's threatening to fully poke through, probably right where Steve's back rests. Goddammit. No wonder Steve can't fucking hold still at night. He's being tortured, Eddie thinks, as he presses his hand against the spring, feeling it bite into his hand. 

A rogue mattress spring.

That's what's divided them, broke them down. 

Eddie sits back down, lets the spring dig into his ass, and holds his head in hands. He's not gonna cry. He doesn't have time. He has to go to work. But goddamn this. 

He's still sitting there when Steve comes in and is rifling through the closet, "You okay?"

"No," Eddie says.

Steve walks over and puts the back of his hand on Eddie's forehead and Eddie laughs, wetly. 

"You don't feel hot," Steve declares. 

"No, I don't," Eddie mutters, because damn, he fucking doesn't feel hot at all. He feels broken down and worn out. 

He reaches up and catches Steve's hand, bringing it to his mouth, kissing it. 

"I'm sorry about the mattress. I didn't know," Eddie says, looking up at him.

"It's okay, I'm used to it," Steve says, and he rubs his fingers against the top of Eddie's head.

"You shouldn't have to be," Eddie says, dejected. 

Steve Harrington chose him, loves him, and Eddie can't even give him a bed to sleep on that isn't trying to pierce his spleen every night.

They can't afford a new one, not right now, and Eddie hates that he can't fix this. 

"We'll flip it," Eddie offers.

"Then it'll have the crater on your side again," Steve says with a laugh. And yeah, Eddie'd forgotten they flipped it last year, after his side started breaking down. Sucking him inward, like a gate into the Upside Down.

That doesn't matter.

"Well, that's gotta be better than this," Eddie admits, bouncing a little. Anything would be better than this torture device.

Steve kneels between Eddie's open thighs, "It's okay, Eddie."

It's not. 

"I'm sorry I was being a jerk. I didn't know," Eddie says.

"I know you didn't," Steve answers, "I didn't want you to worry."

Eddie brushes Steve's hair off his forehead, "I'm still sorry. I love you. You know that, right?"

Steve grins, and it's blinding, "Always. Work now, worry about the mattress later."

Eddie nods, smiles, and when Steve moves from between his knees, Eddie leans over and laces up his boots. Ready to start another day.

That evening, when Eddie pulls into the driveway, Wayne's truck is parked behind Steve's car. Eddie hadn't realized Wayne was coming, and grins. This day just got way better.

Eddie plows into the house, and finds Steve in the bedroom, a pair of needle nose pliers dug into a small hole they've cut in the mattress, trying to bend the spring back into its original position. Wayne's standing there, talking Steve through the temporary fix, until they can afford something better.

It's gonna be okay, Eddie realizes. They're just a little bent out of shape right now. A little sprung. 

If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @steddieholidaydrabbles and follow along with the fun!

If you want to see more of my entries into this month-long challenge, you can check them out in my Steddie Holiday Drabbles tag, right here!

[mockerycrow]

I bet Gaz likes to try and sleep in with you, like he wakes up early but groans and grumbles and buries his face into your neck (he likes hearing you laugh when he does it)

Soft Moments: Gaz Edition (GN!Reader)

gaz masterlist

The third installment of my mini soft moments series <3 Ghost will be next. Ialso, friendly reminder to support the cod gif creators of the fandom, like yumethefrostypanda above!! gifs get stolen too easily. pls pls pls go support them.

consider buying me a ko-fi? no pressure, i’m new to this but i gotta pay for college 😵‍💫

[WARNINGS: Fluff!!]

Kyle has been in the military for a bit now, so his routines are engrained in his brain. Even as he’s on temporary leave, he struggles to break out of the routine he’s followed for years—and that includes the time when his body naturally wakes him up, which is always earlier than he would like, especially because he spends nearly all of his time on leave with you. Kyle also wears a watch that vibrates at a certain time in the morning to assure he’s up, and it often wakes you up as well as you two are often intertwined together in bed. Kyle’s eyelids flutter for a moment before he awakens, bright and early at 5 AM like usual. It takes him a moment to realize he’s awoken, but he quietly groans and tugs your body closer to his as he doesn’t want to get up.

He inhales quietly and deeply, your scent filling his lungs that nearly puts him back to sleep. Your head is stuffed under his chin and into his neck, and he feels your hands shuffle and move under his shift, limply resting against his bare back. Kyle loves the pressure of your body pressing against his, it’s comforting and relaxing, especially when he holds his breath to feel your chest expand against his. Instead of being back at the barracks, waking up wrapped in a cheap, thin blanket—being with you feels like a luxury. Kyle glances at his watch— 5:12 AM. 18 minutes until 5:30, 18 minutes until his watch begins to buzz. Kyle huffs and shuffles down the bed to switch positions with you, so he’s leaning his head against your chest instead of the other way around.

He closes his eyes, might as well try to get some rest, right?

…

He isn’t sure if he actually fell asleep or not, but within the next moment that he’s aware of—his watch begins to vibrate. Kyle groans and you stir awake, soft “mhh” leaving your lips. He quickly turns off the vibrating alarm on his watch and he rubs his face into the crook of your neck, clearly upset about both waking you up and keeping himself up. “Kyle..” You whisper, your voice hoarse from being awakened from your deep sleep. Your hand comes up and cups the nape of his neck, your thumb brushing against his skin. Kyle melts and hums in response before he mutters, “Go back to sleep, love.”

You slowly inhale and you stretch your body out, your lower body trembling for a few seconds as your ears block out some noise. “I don’t wanna,” You rasp. “Not when I get to see you like this.” Kyle’s felt his face burn and he lets out a weak laugh, gently pinching the back of your neck in an attempt as retaliation, but in reality it just massages the nape of your neck. He tries to shush you but you hum over his noises before you whisper, “You’re so cute like this. Especially when your third alarm goes off.. Which will be soon, hm?”

Kyle can’t stop himself from smiling, but he certainly tries to keep it a secret as he buries his face harsher against your neck and your shoulder, muttering “stop” in a lighthearted tone. Your other hand that isn’t touching his neck goes to his back, and you run your fingertips up and down his back, sending a nice shiver up his spine that melts through into his bones. “You don’t need to get up so early, y’know?” You whisper, pressing a kiss against his head—or at least to where you could reach. Kyle grumbles and shifts a bit, his eyes remaining shut as he begins to feel tired once again. “You also know I can’t help it, sweetheart.” He responds, his voice gritty as he begins to welcome sleep once again. You only chuckle in response, and you don’t talk after that as you can tell he’s finally falling back asleep, which is extremely rare for him. You continue to run your fingertips up and down his back.

He lets out a soft snore.

“And why don’t you look at that? You’re asleep.” You whisper, barely audible. He doesn’t stir so you kiss his head again, and close your own eyes, allowing yourself to enjoy this moment with Kyle pressed against you.

[zombiigrll]

LONELY ⋆｡°✩ carl grimes x reader .ᐟ WORD COUNT .ᐟ ⭑ 1061 ꩜ .ᐟ WARNINGS ⭑ angst to fluff, swearing, depressed/traumatized reader, reader is glenn and maggies adoptive child, intended lowercase, the walking dead 7x1 spoilers, death mentions, lack of eating, suicidal thoughts, use of y/n .ᐟ A/N .ᐟ ⭑ hi! this is my first time writing and posting anything on tumblr so im sorry if its not the best </3 ive never really done oneshots before either so i dont really know what im doing LMAO hope you still enjoy!

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it was supposed to be an easy run. get maggie to the hilltop and get her help, that's all it was supposed to be. but, of course, nothing could ever be that easy. not for you. the last thing you expected to see, however, was your father-figure getting his skull beaten in, and almost having to witness your boyfriend getting his arm chopped off. you were distressed. you couldn't function properly. you had already lost your family once before at the beginning of the outbreak, and all of those same feelings came back after losing glenn. he had been there for you since the start, saving you from dying with your family. and now he was gone and there was nothing you could do.

you had fallen into a deep depression, similar to the one you had before. you locked yourself in your room, not eating, not drinking, occasionally getting up to use the restroom, but other than that, you were bedridden. you hadn't even changed your clothes from that night. the clothes that were stained in glenns blood. hell, even his blood remained dried across your face. you felt as lonely as ever, but at the same time, you knew you weren't. because every single day you heard knocks at your door. it was carl.

"y/n, please. just open the door. i can help you." he desperately spoke from the other side of the door.

you felt like shit for making him continue to come to your door everyday just for you to stubbornly remain in your room, but it felt like nothing mattered anyways. eventually, he'd give up, right? that's what you thought. "go away." you mumbled just loud enough for him to hear. "just open the door. please." he begged again. he understood your struggles. he was aware of why you were acting this way, and he couldn't blame you. he knew how it felt to lose family members and people close to him. unfortunately enough for him, you stayed where you were, not opening the door for him yet again. but after almost a week had passed, he began getting more worried. he begged at your door for you to open it, he tried opening it himself but you had locked the door, blocking it as well so no one could enter. you didn't care. you were isolating yourself, barely sleeping. the only times you slept were when you cried so hard you fell asleep. you felt miserable. you were giving up on everything, hoping one day it'd all just end and you wouldn't have to worry anymore. you wouldn't have to worry about anyone else dying, because you'd be with them. no more funerals, no more fighting for your life... you laid awake on your bed, tears silently falling from your eyes as you stared blankly at your ceiling, those terrible thoughts swirling through your brain. but this night was different. you had opened your window, which carl took as the perfect opportunity. he was tired of not being able to help you due to your stubbornness, so he decided to crawl through your window. *thump!*

you quickly jolted up at the sound, staring at carl who was slowly sitting back up after not-so-gracefully falling into your room. he grabbed his hat and placed it back on top of his head before looking over at you. you stared at him with tears glazing over your eyes, your face scrunching up as you brought a hand to your mouth. "i..." you were speechless. your emotions got the better of you and you began sobbing. he quickly walked over to you, cupping your face with his hands as he looked down at you sympathetically. "don't cry..." he softly spoke, but his eyes quickly noticed the dried blood that was still on your face. "y/n..." "i-i'm s.. sorry." you sobbed, averting your eyes as you crossed your arms around your waist. he shook his head as he softly acknowledged your beat-up appearance, moving your arms from covering your waist as he pulled you in for a big hug. "don't be sorry."

you quickly returned the hug, squeezing him tightly as you sobbed into his chest. he broke from the hug, looking back down at you and your bloodstained clothes. "let's go get you cleaned up, yeah?"

you silently nodded. he helped you stand up and you almost fell over, but he quickly caught you. "...let's get you something to eat, too." ... the two of your were now in the bathroom. he helped you sit down on the seat of the toilet before grabbing a rag, getting it wet before walking back over to you. "this is gonna be really cold." he smiled warmly, slowly bringing the rag up to your face and wiping the blood off. you flinched slightly at the touch. as he's cleaning your face, his face turns a bit perplexed. "why... why didn't you open the door?"

you avert your eyes to the ground as you begin messing with your hands. "i just wanted to be alone, i don't know." carl looks at you with a bit of a somber gaze before continuing to clean you up. "i'm sorry for breaking in. i was worried about you. just... please, don't do that again. if you ever need help, i'm here. you know that, right?" "i know..." you looked up at him. "i didn't want you to see me like this. i..." you began tearing up again as you spoke. he quickly sets the rag down and puts both his hands on your cheeks, using his thumbs to wipe away your tears. "i know, i know. it's okay." shortly after, he pulled you in for a quick kiss, his hands remaining on your face as he pulled away. he uses one of his hands to wipe away the stray strands of hair over your face, tucking them behind your ear. "you're so pretty. you know that, right?" he smiled warmly. "i love you." you laughed with a smile, a tear rolling down your cheek. "i love you, too." "let's go get you some new clothes, okay? and some food. i'll make you whatever you want." carl asks, grabbing both your hands. you nod, standing up in sync with him as you followed him back to the room. god, you were so lucky to have him. ─────────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────────────────────