#i just want to go back to sleep or draw maybe

[luveline]

Hi Jade! (I’ve sent this before so ignore if you aren’t into it) just thinking about a bau!reader (maybe shy!reader??) who’s dating post-prison Spencer but didn’t know him before prison and she sees some footage of season one Spencer (maybe they need to refer to a recording of a previous case?) and she’s just dying at how cute he is 🥹

You’ve barely woken up with your face in a solid shoulder when Spencer’s turning around.

“Don’t,” he says when you whine, slipping a familiar hand over your hip. “I’m not going anywhere.” 

“Too early to make fun of me.” 

“Do you think I’m making fun of you?” 

His talking warms your nose where his head is angled down. Your skin smarts with goosebumps as he trails his hand lightly up your back, down again, the slowest, tumbling touch. You shiver, and Spencer, ever so slightly devious in love, says, “Oh, you’re cold?” with great pity as he pulls you closer. 

You rub your face against his shoulder. “Sorry.” 

“Why?”

“I smell.” 

He hums. “Sort of. Not like sweat, though. You smell like sleep.” His lips touch your cheek.

He lets you ‘warm up’ in his arms for a few minutes, then however long you doze for, lost and too comfortable to bother even trying to wake up properly. Your phone pings a couple of times after it comes out of sleep mode, a sure sign you’ve overslept, but Spencer doesn’t make you move until your stomach growls. 

“Come on,” he says, kissing your nose and slipping you back onto your side of the bed. “I’ll make breakfast.” 

“It’s nearly twelve.” 

“You just woke up, and it’s the first thing you’re gonna eat. You are breaking your fast. Breakfast.” He looks pretty even through achy, tired eyes, all the sleep crusted in your lashes no match for Spencer Reid. How you went so long without knowing him is a mystery. 

You get up only because he told you to and because he looked quite lovely when he did it, not because you want to. The bed is warm, that pit of his arms calling your name, but Spencer’s already rolling out of bed with an eager hand scratching through his hair. Sweat has made them tight and a little darker in the back. You’ll both have to shower at some point, preferably after he’s made you breakfast in bed. 

He can see your expectations on your face, and he laughs as he pulls a t-shirt on over his head. “Get up! I’m not bringing it up here, do you know how badly your sleep cycle is affected when you start doing the wrong things in bed?” 

“What counts as the wrong thing?” 

Spencer laughs again, softer now, and for a moment he traces your face with his eyes without speaking. “Fine,” he says, waving a hand at you as he makes for the bedroom door, “stay there. But only ‘cos you look so pretty!” 

“Thank you!” you call back. 

This time with Spencer isn’t enough. You need ten more years of this, thirty, fifty, you need to wake up in his arms and have him touch you and tickle your cheek with his breath. He’s too far to have him come back, so you resign to hugging him when he returns. 

Your phone pings again, drawing your attention finally. The first notification is a reminder to buy toothpaste today at the grocery store. The second is a text from a friend, the third an email. It’s one from last night that piques your interest, another friend, full capital letters: HELP. 

Her use of a laughing emoji defers any urgency. You click on the text thread and scroll up, puzzled by her previous messages, a link, and a caption: oh my god he was so dorky??? 

You open the video and feel your breath catch in surprise. 

Is that Spencer?

You're not stupid, you’ve seen photos of him and his friends together dotted around the apartment from over the years, and every time you come across that photo of him and Diana at a spelling bee with his huge black-framed glasses you have to laugh, but it’s different seeing him to hearing him. 

He’s so nervous. You can’t understand what it is he’s saying, something about mathematical components to profiling criminals. Jason Gideon stands in the background watching him closely. 

“There’s actually a good joke that–”

“Spencer,” Gideon reprimands. 

You watch in awe as Spencer stammers an apology, his cheeks a little pink. You’ve seen Spencer blush, but this feels different. He looks so young. His hair is straight as a pin. 

“Spencer, did you used to straighten your hair?” you call, hoping he can hear you over the sound of a frying pan popping in the kitchen. “Or do you have a perm now, or what?” 

“What!” 

“I’m confused on the logistics of your hair!” You feel something weird in your chest as on screen Spencer tucks a stray strand of hair behind his ear. It’s a mixture of wanting to eat him and wanting to reach through the screen to stroke his cheek with your thumb. 

Spencer treks back into the bedroom with his pink and white pinstripe apron over his shirt and sweatpants. He smells like cinnamon sugar already. “What are you talking about?” 

“My friend found a video of you and Jason at one of those lectures you did.” 

Spencer presses his lips together. For a moment, he doesn’t speak. “I didn’t do any lectures.”

“Uh, yes you did, liar, and you looked so cute.” You turn your phone to him. “So sweet.” 

He marches to the bed. Before you can stop him, he’s taking the phone from your hand, giving you the world's silliest, tiniest shove when you try to get it back. 

“Cruel,” you quip. 

Spencer stares at the phone screen, then you, “Sorry,” he says, turning pink, “I don’t know why I did that, just– I just–” He frowns deeply. “Can you stop smiling like that?” 

You climb onto your knees, a morning disaster, but when you wrap your arms around Spencer’s waist he looks at you like you’re perfect. His eyes soften, brows relaxing, his irises like dark dimes that slowly dilate as he looks you over. Your phone presses into your back, his arm wrapping around you. 

“You were adorable,” you say sincerely. 

“Not anymore?” 

You rub your cheek against his apron. “No, you still are. Let me watch the video again.” 

“Not a chance.” 

[cloudwisp]

𝐬𝐲𝐥𝐮𝐬 · 𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐲 𝐤𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧

contents: fluff. established relationship. you always sleep better when you're with him. 600 wc.

It’s been long since darkness cloaked the firmament and Sylus is absorbed in the tranquil silence of his studies overlooking documents and official records. A common routine given his atypical profession in dealing with illegal weaponry and other business practices that caught his interest. His fingers idly tapping against the armrest come to a halt when faint footsteps reach his ears. The sound draws nearer and closer with each pace and the corner of his mouth tugs upward into a smirk while he waits in anticipation.

“Kitten, shouldn’t you be in bed where I had left you?” Sylus meets your heavy-lidded gaze and registers your appearance as a cashmere blanket wraps around your shoulders and your hair tousled from what seems to be troubled sleep. Despite his question, he beckons you with a gesture and you follow suit in settling across his lap, your body turning in towards him to nuzzle your face into his neck with your arms coiling around him. He gently shifts your weight closer to him for a more secure hold and lays a sweet kiss on your head once you’ve made yourself comfortable.

“You’re more comfy… way more comfy. I prefer this much more.” You hum and return his kiss by brushing your lips against his skin. He can feel you ease into him as he studies your adorable sleepy face and his heart swells with so much love and tenderness for you. He loves it when you seek him out even when you've spent the entire day together and still can't get enough of him.

“Is that so? I suppose I’m more comfortable than a bed, huh?” He strokes your hair, lulling you deeper into your drowsiness and you can only muster a noise of contentment. He wonders if he can emulate the same sense of comfort you provide him when he’s resting his head on your lap. The sweet and intimate sensation of your fingers caressing through his silver locks with the lingering scent of your perfume makes everything seem right in the world even if just brieftly. “You know I can’t work when you’re in my lap like this. I have too many distractions that way. You and the cute way you snore.”

You grunt softly. “I do not snore… do you really want me to leave?” You slowly unravel yourself from him with a small pout on your lower lip, and he softens with the realization that maybe he shouldn’t have teased you when you’re laced with sleep. You feel something warm against your forehead through your bleary eyes, and he can’t have his darling feeling unloved and unwanted by his mistake and he intends to remedy that. His hand reaches up and moves your head back where it was moments ago and you are pliant under his touch.

“Now, I didn’t say you had to go anywhere. Stay here with me. I promise you won’t get in the way.” Sylus cooes you gently, his hand smooths along your back and he rests his cheek against your hair as he cherishes the feeling of having you in his arms. “I love you, sweet kitten. Sleep now. I’ll hold you until you do.” You murmur you love him back and for a few minutes, there’s nothing but silence and the steady rhythm of your breathing as your consciousness begins to drift.

Sylus gazes down at you with a fond and affectionate expression, whispering quiet reassurances that he hopes will reach you in your dreams. He resumes skimming through the paperwork he was doing before, his actions slower and deliberate so as not to wake you. Although his focus has shifted to his work, he enjoys having you here with him like this and he could certainly get used to it.

[ikkyfics]

Wasn't it obvious?

Dave Lizewski x f!reader

Summary: For a moment, Dave stayed quiet, his gaze fixed on you. The expression on his face wasn’t judgmental or angry but simply confused. “Wait...” he began, hesitantly. “You’re telling me you thought we weren’t dating?” You stayed silent, the weight in your chest tightening at his question. “I... I didn’t know.” “But...” He ran a hand through his messy curls, looking lost. “I thought it was kind of obvious."

Warnings: mention of sex (not explicit), insecurity, est. relationship, hurt comfort, a little angst

A/N: anon, I hope you can like it <333!!

Masterlist

The room was still bathed in the dim light of morning, with the curtains barely drawn, letting streaks of sunlight spill across the space. You woke up slowly, feeling the warmth of his body still so close. Dave’s breathing was soft and steady, the rhythm of someone deeply asleep. A heavy arm lay draped over your waist, a silent reminder that he had no intention of letting you slip away anytime soon.

Your eyes wandered around the messy room, clothes scattered on the floor—your shirt precariously hanging off the edge of a chair, his pants on the rug, half-hidden under the bed. You knew you needed to leave. There were commitments, schedules, things waiting for you out there. But the weight of that moment, of his warmth, seemed to beg you to stay.

“You awake?” Dave’s husky voice broke through your thoughts. He didn’t open his eyes right away, but the grip around your waist tightened slightly. When he finally looked at you, his blue eyes were clouded with sleep, dark curls falling a little over his forehead. “Stay a little longer. It’s still early…”

“I have to go,” you murmured, even as his fingers lazily traced the curve of your arm. His touch was so light, as if he wanted to draw out every second.

“No, you don’t.” He smiled in that way that always made your resolve waver—that small, crooked smile, almost boyish, but filled with something he probably didn’t even realize he carried. Propping himself up on his elbow, he looked straight at you, his eyes shining even in the faint light. “Who’s gonna care if you skip, huh?”

You laughed softly, knowing he was teasing, though there was a hint of truth in his words. Dave had this way of making you feel like the rest of the world didn’t matter, like that moment—just the two of you, tangled in messy sheets—was the only thing that did.

“You’re not going to make me stay,” you warned, but your voice didn’t sound as convincing as you’d intended. He seemed to catch on, because his smile grew wider.

“What if I hold you down right here?” He stretched his arms dramatically, trying to pull you closer, but you slipped out, laughing again.

“Stop it, Dave,” you said, trying to get up, though you could feel the weight of his gaze following you. You grabbed your shirt first, pulling it off the chair, and started putting it on with your back to him, all too aware of his eyes on you. When you turned around, he was still there, propped up on his hand, his hair messy, his eyes fixed on you with an intensity that made warmth creep up your face.

“You’re really gonna leave me here all alone?” His tone was playful, almost pouty, but there was something else beneath it—something that was always there in the spaces between words, something you never quite dared to name.

“I am,” you replied, trying to keep your tone light, though something inside you tightened. You knew he wasn’t holding you there, that you were free to leave. But you also knew there were unspoken things between you, things that made moments like this harder than they should be.

He let out an exaggerated sigh, flopping back onto the pillow, though his eyes never left you. “Fine. But only because I know you’ll come back.”

You paused for a second, still holding onto the waistband of the pants you’d just pulled on. His gaze seemed to carry more weight than his words. But, as always, you let it pass.

“Maybe,” you said, trying to hide the smile tugging at your lips. And before he could respond, you grabbed your things and started moving toward the door, feeling his eyes on you until the very last second.

“Hey,” he called out, just as your hand touched the doorknob. You turned to look at him one last time. He looked so at ease there, so comfortable, with his messy curls and that smile that always made your heart race. “You look amazing in the morning, you know that?”

“See you later, Dave,” you said, trying to ignore the way your heart skipped a beat, and left before he could trap you with another comment.

The café was just busy enough that the hum of conversations and the clinking of cups against saucers created a constant noise, but not so much that it stopped you from relaxing for a few minutes. You sat near the window, the warm coffee cup in your hands, trying to organize your thoughts. There was so much to do, so many things you were trying to ignore—and one of them seemed to have a face framed by dark curls and blue eyes that took up far more space in your mind than you cared to admit.

"Hey, is that really you?"

The familiar voice pulled you out of your thoughts, and when you looked up, it took a second to recognize the person standing in front of you.

"Katie?" The surprise was clear in your voice, but a smile quickly appeared on your lips. It was her, without a doubt—the same Katie Deauxma from high school, though now her features seemed more mature. Her hair was a bit shorter, but the easy smile she always had was exactly the same.

"Yeah!" Katie laughed, looking just as surprised to see you there. "Wow, it's been ages! How are you?"

"I'm good. Wow, it really has been a long time," you said, standing for a quick, slightly awkward hug. She seemed as comfortable as ever, and the conversation flowed naturally as the two of you sat down together.

Katie asked about college, what you were studying, and shared a bit about her own courses and what she'd been up to since high school. It was pleasant, even nostalgic, talking to someone who knew you from before.

Until she asked, casually, "So, are you dating anyone? Or just enjoying the single life?"

You hesitated for a second that felt like an eternity. The words formed in your mind before you could fully think through their weight, slipping out before you could stop them.

"Actually… I am dating someone."

It was a lie. Or wasn't it? You didn’t know anymore. But the sound of the word in your mouth brought an instant pang of guilt, something that tightened in your chest as Katie’s smile widened.

“Oh, really? That’s great! Who’s the lucky one?”

“Dave Lizewski,” you replied, trying to keep your tone casual. Katie blinked, surprised, before letting out a short laugh.

“Dave? Wow! I haven’t talked to him in ages. We dated, remember? Back in high school.”

You nodded, feeling your stomach sink. Of course you remembered. Everyone remembered. Dave and Katie had been the cute couple in school, the kind everyone thought was improbable, even cliché—the nerd with the popular girl.

“He was so sweet. A little awkward, but always so thoughtful,” Katie continued, oblivious to the storm of emotions building inside you. “You two must make a great couple, I’m sure.”

You smiled, or tried to, and murmured something vague in response. But all you could think was that she was right. Dave was sweet. He was thoughtful, even with his goofy comments and the way he looked at you when he thought you weren’t paying attention. He held your hand in public. He made a point to walk you home when he could.

But he had never called you his girlfriend.

And now you were sitting here, listening to Katie talk about what he was like when they dated, and something inside you was breaking into pieces you didn’t even know existed. You remembered them together—how she’d hold onto his arm in the school hallways, how happy he looked next to her. And suddenly, you couldn’t help but wonder if he looked at you the same way he looked at her.

You finished your coffee as quickly as you could, saying goodbye to Katie with a smile that felt increasingly forced. She hugged you again before leaving, promising that you should meet up again sometime.

When you were alone again, the noise of the café felt louder, like it was echoing inside you. The empty cup in front of you felt like a weight holding you there, while your thoughts spiraled endlessly.

Girlfriend.

You’d said it. And now the word felt like it was haunting you, something far too big to carry. You never wanted to be this person, the one who lied or twisted things to fit into something that might not even be real.

But you couldn’t help it.

Because deep down, you wanted it to be true.

Thursday nights always held a special weight. It was an unspoken tradition between the two of you. No matter what happened during the week—piles of work, tough exams, or tight deadlines—Thursdays were reserved for you two. And no matter how hard you tried to focus on something else, the memory of your encounter with Katie had been pounding in your head ever since you left the café.

You had tried to shake it off with a stack of required reading, loud music through your headphones, and even a spontaneous apartment cleaning spree, but nothing worked. Katie's voice kept echoing, her smile, the way she talked about Dave. The way she referred to him as someone who used to be hers, as if there was still a part of him trapped in the past that might never belong to you.

And then there was you. And the lie. Or was it the truth? You didn’t even know anymore. The weight of the words that had slipped out before you could stop them—they felt heavier now, like stones sinking in your stomach. You said it because you wanted to believe it was real. But what about him? What would he think if he knew?

The sound of the doorbell yanked you from your thoughts. It was him.

You took a deep breath, trying to quiet the chaos inside, and opened the door. Dave stood there, as he always did, with his messy curls and a small smile that grew wider just for you. He held a plastic bag with a pack of fries and two sodas—the kind of thing he always brought because he knew you loved it.

“Hey,” he said, leaning in to give you a quick kiss on the cheek before stepping inside. His touch was warm, familiar. But tonight, it felt harder to relax around him, like the storm in your head was keeping you from grounding yourself in the moment.

“Hey,” you replied, closing the door as he made his way to the kitchen, putting the sodas in the fridge without even asking. He’d been doing this for so long that it was second nature.

“You okay?” Dave asked, opening the bag of fries and tossing one into his mouth. He looked at you with those blue eyes, his forehead creasing slightly with concern.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you answered quickly—maybe too quickly. He noticed. Of course, he did. Dave had always had this uncanny ability to sense when something was off, even when you tried to hide it.

“Are you sure? You seem kind of...” He gestured vaguely with his hand.

“I’m fine,” you insisted, a bit more firmly. “Just tired, that’s all.”

“Okay.” He shrugged, but the way he kept watching you while munching on a fry made it clear he wasn’t entirely convinced. “Wanna watch a movie or something? I brought that one you said you wanted to see...”

“I’m not sure I feel like watching a movie tonight,” you replied, trying to keep your voice neutral as you grabbed a glass of water for yourself. It was a small response, almost insignificant, but the tension was already starting to build.

“Alright, so what do you want to do?” He leaned against the kitchen counter, his gaze calm and his relaxed posture a stark contrast to the knot tightening inside you.

“I don’t know, Dave!” The words came out sharper than you intended, and the tone in your voice made his eyebrows lift.

“Okay, easy,” he said slowly, raising his hands in mock surrender. “I was just asking. No need to bite my head off.”

You sighed, guilt starting to creep in. But instead of stopping, the words began spilling out before you could catch them. “I’m sorry, okay? It’s just... I don’t know. I’m tired. I had a rough day, and then you show up with your fries like everything is so simple, like... like I just need a movie, and everything will be fine.”

He blinked, visibly confused, but his tone remained calm. “I was just trying to help. I didn’t know you were feeling so... like this.”

“Like this?” You crossed your arms, the tension in your stance growing. “What’s that supposed to mean, Dave?”

“You know what I mean,” he said, but now there was something in his tone that suggested he was trying to keep his patience in check.

“Actually, I don’t,” you shot back, your voice rising. But as soon as the words left your mouth, you felt the sting of tears welling in your eyes, and the lump in your throat that had been forming all day was now nearly unbearable.

Dave noticed immediately. Of course, he did. He might not have been great with words, but he never failed to pick up on when something was wrong with you. His expression shifted in an instant, confusion giving way to a concern so genuine it made you feel even more vulnerable.

“Hey, hey,” he said, stepping closer, his voice softer now. “What’s going on? Are you crying?”

“I’m not,” you lied, turning your face away, but he didn’t buy it.

“Yes, you are,” he insisted, and before you could step back, Dave was already close enough to gently take your hands in his. “Look at me.”

You hesitated but finally lifted your gaze. His blue eyes met yours, filled with so much concern it was almost impossible to hold the contact.

“Talk to me,” he said. It wasn’t a command; it was an invitation. “Please.”

The weight in your chest felt like it was about to explode, and the words came out before you could stop them.

“I ran into Katie.”

Dave blinked, visibly surprised. “Katie?”

“Yeah,” you confirmed, trying to look away, but he stayed close, holding your hands with almost unbearable tenderness. “We bumped into each other by chance. Talked for a few minutes.”

He tilted his head, his blue eyes narrowing slightly, now a mix of curiosity and concern. “And?”

“She asked about you,” you said, your voice almost a whisper. “And I... I told her I was your girlfriend.”

Dave went quiet for a moment. Not the heavy silence of judgment, but the kind of pause he always took when he was trying to fully understand something.

“Okay,” he began cautiously. “And... why does that seem to be hurting you?”

“Because I don’t know if it’s true!” you burst out, the confession hitting with a force that made you flinch. “I said I was your girlfriend, but I didn’t know if I was lying. We’ve never talked about this, never put a name on what we have. And now all I can think about is whether I said something that wasn’t real.”

For a moment, he stayed quiet, his gaze fixed on you. The expression on his face wasn’t judgmental or angry but simply confused.

“Wait...” he began, hesitantly. “You’re telling me you thought we weren’t dating?”

You stayed silent, the weight in your chest tightening at his question.

“I... I didn’t know,” you admitted, your voice weak, barely a whisper.

“But...” He ran a hand through his messy curls, looking lost. “I thought it was kind of obvious. I mean, we see each other all the time, spend nights together, you steal my shirts...”

“That doesn’t mean anything,” you cut him off, frustration mixed with nervousness. “People do that all the time without dating, Dave.”

“But I don’t do that with just anyone,” he countered, his blue eyes locking onto yours, as if he wanted to make this point crystal clear. “I do that with you because I want to be with you. Because I thought... well, I thought it was obvious.”

“But you never said it,” you argued, feeling the tears starting to return. “And I never said it either. And that’s what’s been driving me crazy. I didn’t know what we were.”

Dave sighed, his shoulders slumping slightly. He looked like he was processing everything all at once, and for a moment, you thought he might argue. But instead, he stepped closer until he was near enough to hold your hands again.

“Okay,” he said softly. “Then let’s make it clear now.”

His tone was calm but firm, and when he spoke again, it felt like every word had been carefully chosen.

“I’m with you,” he said. “And I thought that was obvious, but if it wasn’t, I’m saying it now: I want to be with you. Just you. And if that means we’re dating, then yeah, I guess we’re dating.”

Your heart was pounding so hard you were sure he could hear it.

“But...” you began, the word almost lost in the lump in your throat. “What about Katie?”

He frowned, clearly caught off guard by the change in topic.

“What about Katie?”

“She was your first girlfriend,” you continued, your voice cracking slightly. “And I remember how you two were. Everyone thought you were perfect together. And now, seeing her again, I can’t stop thinking that...”

“That what?” He tilted his head, his blue eyes filled with concern.

“That I’ll never be good enough,” you confessed, the words spilling out before you could stop them.

Dave was silent for a moment, but before you could say more, he shook his head with a soft, incredulous laugh.

“Are you serious?” he asked, his voice full of almost overwhelming tenderness.

You looked at him, confused.

“I broke up with Katie years ago,” he said, as though reminding you of something obvious. “And yeah, it was important to me. She was my first girlfriend. But that doesn’t mean anything now. She’s part of my past, that’s all. You’re my present. And my future, if I’m lucky.”

You tried to process his words, but the lump in your throat only seemed to grow.

“But what if I’m not enough?” you asked, your voice trembling.

“You already are enough,” he answered immediately, without hesitation. He stepped closer, so close that you were almost nose to nose. “More than enough. And you don’t need to compare yourself to Katie or anyone else. Because no one comes close to you, got it? No one.”

His eyes were so intense, so full of emotion, that you felt tears slipping down your cheeks.

“I’m here because I want to be here,” he continued, his voice now softer. “Because you’re who I want. And nothing—absolutely nothing—is going to change that.”

You closed your eyes, trying to hold back the tears, but it was impossible. When you opened them again, Dave was already pulling you into a tight embrace, wrapping you in a tenderness that felt both overwhelming and comforting all at once.

Dave’s arms tightened around you as if he were trying to shield you from the outside world—or maybe from yourself. The warmth of his body surrounded you, and for a moment, the only sound you could hear was the steady beat of his heart, like a reassuring rhythm that seemed to absorb all the anxiety that had consumed you until then.

“You’re more than enough,” he repeated, his voice low and steady, as if it were something he needed you to believe more than anything else. And you wanted to believe it.

Minutes passed like that, in a cocoon of quiet comfort, with him holding you as if the whole world had disappeared. And you stayed there, letting yourself surrender to that sense of relief, of not needing to worry about anything else. Just the present. Just him.

Finally, you lifted your head, your face warm and your eyes still a little teary but calmer. You looked at him, and he looked back at you with an intensity that made you feel as if you were being seen in a way no one else ever could.

“Do you really think I’m enough for you?” you asked, your voice softer now but still tinged with uncertainty. You knew he’d answered, but you needed to hear it again, to be sure.

Dave smiled, a smile that made his eyes shine with a mix of affection and certainty. He brushed a strand of hair from your face, his fingers lightly grazing your skin, and answered with a tenderness that warmed your chest.

“I don’t just think,” he said, his voice warm and sincere. “I know. And if you let me, I’ll show you that every single day. Because to me, you’re everything. And nothing, no one, can change that.”

His words echoed softly but with a force that was impossible to ignore. And in that moment, with your heart racing and your breath unsteady, you finally understood what he was trying to tell you. It didn’t matter what had happened in the past or the insecurities you carried. What mattered was what he was offering you now. It was real. And you wanted to believe it. Wanted to allow yourself.

You gave a small smile, the tears still falling but now accompanied by a growing sense of peace that began to fill the spaces left by doubt. “I don’t want to compare myself to anyone,” you admitted, your voice trembling slightly. “But sometimes it’s hard.”

Dave gave a small laugh, gently cupping your cheeks. “I get it,” he said. “But never forget: you’re who I chose. And you don’t need to be like anyone else. You’re unique to me, and that’s all I need.”

He pulled you closer again, and this time, instead of insecurity, the embrace was filled with something softer yet stronger—a sense that you’d found your place, a safe place full of care.

Time passed slowly, and you felt calmer, as if his words had cleared the chaos in your mind. When you looked into his eyes, you no longer saw doubt or fear—just certainty. And you felt it too. The certainty that, with him by your side, everything would be okay.

“I love you,” you whispered, not thinking too much, but with a truth that burned through your skin and filled your chest with something so profound that words couldn’t fully translate it.

Dave smiled, that genuine, happy smile of his. “I love you too,” he replied, before leaning in for a gentle kiss that made the world seem to pause for a moment. A kiss that needed no explanations. A kiss that said everything about who you were—and everything you were still about to become.

[grandline-fics]

Hello! I just found your blog and I am reading everything that you have (while working🤐)

I have to say I am in love with your writing. You are amazing, can't put the phone down.

I would love to be in the tag list for everything that you will write in the future.

Also if you don't mind can I ask for the Promp "Conforting Kisses" where the reader had a nightmare of the getting badly hurt and they give them kisses to forget maybe?

If you can do it for Luffy, Ace and Shanks I will be thankful for ever. If you don't want to write it is okey💕

Hope you have a great day! 💕

Thank you again for writing💕💖

DESCRIPTION: Prompt: Comforting Kisses

WARNINGS:  descriptions of injury, mentions of death. slight angst. hurt to comfort

CHARACTERS: Luffy, Shanks

WORDS: 1,340

A/N: Thank you so much for your support and this request! I made a mistake and mis-read it to think you wanted the reader to do the comforting. I also only managed to get something for Luffy and Shanks for this but I hope this is still to your liking and you enjoy how it turned out.

*REQUESTS ARE OPEN*

DIRECTORY | PROMPT LIST

———————

LUFFY

He was so much stronger than he had been when you first met and joined him on the crew. Luffy had spent two years under Rayleigh’s instruction to ensure he’d never lose anyone else close to him again. So now why was he staring in horror, completely helpless and unable to intervene as you were overwhelmed by multiple heavy hitting opponents he’d defeated in the past. Each one got hit after hit on you, ignoring Luffy’s yells for them to leave you alone. As strong as a fighter as you were normally you were no match against these monsters striking all at once. You didn’t even seem to notice Luffy as he screamed and struggled to get to you. The Captain could only watch as your attackers fell back into shadows while you fell to your knees as a wave of Magellan’s poison and Akainu’s magma came crashing over you.

Luffy awoke with a shuddering gasp, limbs locked tightly and body trembling as the cold sweat broke over his skin. With every rapid breath he took, the images he’d just detached himself from flashed in his mind in the dark. Every desperate gulp of air just brought more of a panic, drawing him back to the darkest, lowest point in his life when he’d realised he was weak and couldn’t save his brother. What would he do if he lost you? Before a new panic could set in, he caught the sound of soft footsteps approaching. Immediately he was out of bed and approaching the door, opening it before you could even knock. “Oh, couldn’t sleep either Lu-”

Before you could finish your question, Luffy had his arms out like a shot and pulled you against him. Laying his head against your chest the sound of your heartbeat finally began to ground him, rooting him in reality and not the horrible nightmare that still clung to him. You’d initially tensed at the hug Luffy drew you into, not because of it being unexpected-it wasn’t given how affectionate he was with everyone-but because of how timid he seemed. This wasn’t a usual Luffy hug, filled with warmth and happiness. As you wrapped your arms around his shoulders you could feel the tremor in his frame and took note of how every so often his arms would try to pull you closer. Angling one hand you settled your finger’s against the back of his head, moving in gentle motions to help him relax from whatever nightmare he’d clearly had. 

Lightly you pressed a kiss against the top of Luffy’s head, a small smile tugging at your lips when Luffy slowly lifted his head to meet your gaze. It was reassuring to see he seemed more himself albeit still a little shaken. “Can you do that again? Felt nice.”

“Sure.” Leaning forward you pressed a longer but just as gentle kiss against his forehead, your smile growing to hear and feel Luffy’s body relax from the comforting action. You pulled back to watch him carefully. “Ready to go back to bed? I can stay with you if it helps.”

Unsurprisingly Luffy’s gaze hardened at the suggestion. He was tired, he wasn’t going to lie but at the same time he hesitated. The last thing he wanted was to have that nightmare all over against your offer of staying helped him greatly. 

Together you moved back into Luffy’s room and lay down in the bed. Taking naps with Luffy was never anything new but since starting a relationship with him this was the first time you were going to spend the night in his bed. As much as you didn't like the circumstances that led to this but you couldn’t deny how right it felt to lie in Luffy’s arms, pressing comforting kisses against his head as he fell asleep to keep his nightmares away. 

SHANKS

Shanks knew this image well. Loguetown’s town square filled to the brim of people, their heads turned towards the towering execution block and awaiting the procession to appear on the top podium. Overhead thick grey clouds quickly swept in and darkened the clear morning, rain falling heavily as the winds began to shriek. Shanks lifted his arm to shield his eyes, his gaze firmly on the Marines who appeared. Your name was shouted out for the audience to hear and immediately Shanks’ body froze when the two Marines stepped aside and you were roughly shoved onto your knees. 

Your body looked so frail and small on top of the execution block. Even from where he stood he could see the bruises and cuts against your body as you knelt, hands held firmly by the heavy iron shackles and chains. Shanks quickly began to push through the crowd, trying to get to you but for every person he moved out of his way more replaced them. No, this couldn’t be happening. While the two Marines drew their weapons in preparation of what was to come, another stepped forward to begin calling out the charges. 

“You have been found guilty for aiding and abetting, harbouring, and consorting with known Pirate Emperor Red Hair Shanks on multiple accounts spanning years. For this clear defection of the World Government’s rule and repeated alliance with dangerous criminals we can only treat you as a pirate and deem only one punishment is suitable; death.” Over the pelting rain and thunder, Shank’s yell for you was swallowed and you defeatedly hung your head. Your eyes slid closed as you waiting the swinging of the blades, arcing straight for you. 

Shanks woke sharply, a deep pit of ice twisting painfully in his stomach as his heart thundered loudly in his ears. It was so incredibly rare for Shanks to feel powerless or weak, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a nightmare and any that came to mind paled in comparison to what he’d just seen. He’d never allow any harm to come to you, in all the years he’d known you and loved you he’d made sure the Marines and any pirate rivals he had knew nothing about you. Glancing down he saw you sleeping peacefully against his chest. Logic told him you were fine, you were safe. He could feel your warmth and feel your soft breath against his skin but still it couldn’t replace the images of your beaten body about to be put to death. 

Knowing it was irrational and stupid, he couldn’t help himself. Lightly he spoke your name and gently shook your shoulder. Immediately you stirred, a hum of sleep thickened confusion breaking from your lips. Shifting so you were on your stomach you blinked through the haze and looked to Shanks in sleepy concern, knowing he’d never wake you unless it was necessary. “Shanks? What’s wrong?”

“Sorry love, really I am.” Shanks explained softly, letting his fingers gently move in soothing patterns against your skin. Seeing you awake and hearing your voice already doing wonders to dispel the hurt his subconsciousness had created. “Had a bad nightmare. Just needed you.”

Immediately your gaze sharpened enough and you nodded in understanding. It wasn’t often but anytime you had a nightmare and Shanks was there he’d wake and be there with you until you’d calmed. Now it was your turn. 

Slowly you pulled yourself up and inched closer. With a feather-light touch you pushed the stray strands of red hair from his face before caressing his jaw. Leaning in you pressed sweet, caring kisses against his face. You started at his eyes, paying close attention to his scars before moving to his temple, then the bridge of his nose, his cheeks before finally settling your lips against Shanks’ pulling him into a deep, tender kiss, clearing the remnants of his nightmare away. Breaking apart you lay your forehead against Shanks’, smiling when he lifted your hand to his mouth, kissing your wrist, a clear sign he was becoming more like his usual self. “When the crew and I leave this time, you want to come with me?”

——————————————-

TAG LIST (If I’ve missed anyone or if you want to be added just let me know) @3v37773, @tsaaps , @i-am-all-love-puns-and-lazy , @sanemisnonexistenteyebrow , @fiery-captain-spider-santa, @kabloswrld , @atanukileaf , @ane5e , @stuckinthewrongworld , @deathsmajestysworld , @cloudysunset04 , @chillerkiller , @extremely-ashtridic , @decayingpizza , @liesatemyocean , @ace-for-ace , @nerium-lil , @destynelseclipsa , @dreamcastgirl99 , @my-name-is-heartache , @iamn1ya ,  @yunho-leeknow , @hinata7346 , @h0oouwlss , @missrandomdreamer , @sleepykittycx , @ddawn111 , @jaygrl22 , @sylum , @acehyacinth , @resident-cryptid , @treelogirl , @maellem , @its-a-dam-blue-brick , @thulhu , @appalost , @dindjarins1ut , @irumawife , @laidenbreecatchall

[overwhelmed-alien]

Jake “Hangman” Seresin: Passenger Princess

The general consensus in his class is that Jake must think he’s up there with royalty, and therefore deserves to be driven around. That’s where the whole “princess” thing came from, originally. Jake of course rolls with it, plays up the prim “driving is beneath someone like me”, chuckles at the good-natured eye-rolls, and hops into someone’s -anyone’s- front seat and immediately fiddles with the radio just to be a brat.

The true reason, one he will never utter out loud, is that driving terrifies him. He grew up in rural Texas with hundreds of miles of straight, flat roads from horizon to horizon. Roads that frequently were completely empty, maybe you’d meet a tractor once in a while. So 12 lanes of bottlenecked California traffic, horns honking, engines revving, cars swerving in and out of lanes, the bright sun making it hard to see, unnerves Jake more than anything. Up in the sky he’s fearless, but the planes, he reasons, aren’t crowding around you not caring if you live or die as long as they get to brunch with the girls on time.

Bradley clocked it first, naturally. They’d lived together for years, back when they were “Bradley and Jake”. How Jake would never ask to drive, never grab the keys on the way out, would always sweetly beg -“honey come grocery shopping with me, it’ll be fun!” - Bradley to accompany him anywhere he went. Bradley could never deny him anything, so off they would go, either in Bradley’s Bronco or Jake’s truck, him driving, Jake in the passenger seat. He always thought it was adorable, Jake hopping up beside him grinning like a loon when he got his way, grin wider when Bradley inevitably calls him Princess. But he started noticing subtle things that he wouldn’t have noticed years ago. How Jake closed his eyes and gripped the handle when someone swerved in front of them. How he fiddled and played with dials or his phone or the strings of a hoodie to avoid looking out the window. The film of sweat on his face that, thanks to the blaring AC, had nothing to do with the Cali heat. The knee that bounced until they arrived at their destination.

He’d tried bringing it up once or twice, Jake had always laughed and played it up, “baby I’m too cute to drive, we’ve established this.” So he drops it. But if he’s more engaging in animated conversations with Jake to distract him, if he sings just a little louder and dances in the drivers seat a little sillier to draw nervous green eyes his way and not the speeding line of traffic beside him, if he smiles a little sweeter and the “Princess” comes out a little more heated so Jake forgets the entire world around him for a time, well, he’d do anything for the boy in his passenger seat. When they break up -why did they break up again? He can’t even remember - he always worries about Jake, so much his heart hurts. Is he having to drive himself?

At the Hard Deck, with some secret mission looming over their heads, and Jake looking so damn good, so damn pissed off, so damn hurt -he’d really screwed up, hadn’t he? Jake had wanted to go home early - something about beauty sleep, Javy, please! - and Bradley, stopping his piano serenading immediately, without even thinking: “I got you, princess. I’ll take you home.”

And Bradley swears he can see every single emotion, from rage to relief, regret to guarded happiness, and so much fondness in those nervous green eyes he still loves so damn much.

(I won’t make Jake say “show me the way home, honey” because I guess it’s cliche by now, but I’ll still heavily imply he does with my whole chest)

[portraitofalinkonfyre]

For writing requests, could you write something with Wind and an older sister reader?

Glycerine

Pairing: Wind & Reader

Warning(s): None, just some found-sibling fluff!

Notes: Inspired by "Glycerine" by Bush. This is actually a bit angsty so prepare yourself lol.

Masterlist

You found Wind on the beach, sitting on the pale sand as his outstretched legs toed the line between surf and sand. It was a beautiful afternoon on Onset; the sun was high, the sky was clear, and tears had no place on the young hero's salt-swept cheeks.

"Wind?" you called, toes scrunching when they met sun-warmed granules, your boots kicked casually onto the grassy bank meters away. "Buddy?"

There was a gasp. The Sailor's shoulders jumped. He whirled to face you, already rubbing beneath his sea-colored eyes with a fist. He said your name, once, and forced a smile that looked entirely too watery for comfort. "H-Hey... I thought you were teaching Aryll how to sew."

You shrugged, taking a seat beside him. A part of you wanted to cringe at the thought of all the sand you would undoubtedly find on yourself when this was over, but a larger, stronger part whispered that it was worth it. For him. "I was, but she's a quick learner, like someone else I know."

Another soft, uncharacteristic smile, nothing like the blinding grins he usually treated you with. The muscles in your jaw ached as they fought to keep a neutrally-friendly expression. "Yeah," said Wind, sneaking unusually pensive glances at the roaring ocean. "Wild's pretty sharp, huh?"

Your brow furrowed. You scooted an inch closer. "I meant you, kid."

This time, he looked at you. This time, he seemed to see you. "I'm sorry," he apologized. A habit, you assumed, though it was wholly unnecessary. Tone heavy with an emotion that had your heart twisting in your chest, he continued: "I've just been... thinking."

Oh dear, it was one of those days. You planted your hands behind you, using them as makeshift anchors to lean back a few inches. A thick, salty breeze swept through the beach, further ruffling Wind's nest of hair. You debated running back to the house to grab a brush, but refrained. "About?"

Silence. You didn't push, but you did watch. Red-rimmed eyes, fidgeting hands, suspicious stains on the sleeves of his tunic. In so many ways, Wind was a fully-fledged adult. He could fight, swear, and scream, but it was always the little things that reminded you just how young he was.

The hero chewed his lip, knees drawing up to his chest. Your eyes flicked to the pants he wore–a gaudy orange that you weren't sure had come from teenage rebellion or a treacherously misguided fashion sense–and immediately settled on a small rip near the right ankle.

"I know Legend's prickly, but he'll help you with those if you ask," you mused, almost to yourself. Wind immediately glanced at his pants, and a heavy breath slipped past his chapped lips. Too sad, too old; something was definitely wrong.

"Oh, wow, I hadn't..."

'Noticed it' went unsaid, so you decided to fill the silence.

"You're only going to miss her more if you stay out here," the words slipped off your tongue like silk, though they could have weighed more than a thousand sparkling suns. Maybe they did, and you were simply used to the reality where hard things were said without a second glance.

"She'll miss me if I go back," said the young, vibrant, effervescent hero in a tone that was so melancholic that you briefly considered calling Time over from the comfort of the home's sleeping area, but the memory of him downing no less than four bottles of Elixer Soup suggested the eldest hero had plans that didn't include comforting whichever boy decided today was the day for a long-awaited existential crisis.

You sighed. You closed the distance, wrapping your arm around Wind's shoulders. They were broader than you remembered, but you'd be damned if you let the fact that he was growing intercede with hug timeTM. It didn't take long for the Sailor to accept his fate, shoulders finally dropping as he exhaled a breath typically observed in divorced men in their forties. You'd have to tell Warriors that one. "It's hylian nature to miss someone," you said; gently, not because he was a child, but because he needed it. "It means she cares. Means you care."

"Does it?" was Wind's response, and you couldn't help the snort that escaped you.

"Of course it does," you paused to let the meaning sink in, then added with a conspiratorial grin: "Didn't anyone tell you not to question your elders?"

Wind's ears perked up, but you couldn't find it in you to regret giving him an in. "Yeesh, I didn't know you were that old."

"Rude, I'm actually like, super young," you huffed, injecting as much faux irritation into your tone to hide the fact that you were secretly rejoicing the spectacular return of his borrowed dad jokes, because, really, one could only spend so much time around Warriors and Time before they too found themselves corrupted. You shifted in the sand, gaze turning to the sun, hovering above the horizon like a firebrand, and a small part of you was glad Twilight was currently consumed with that tile game Four played almost religiously. "It's getting late," you told the Sailor. Softly. Kindly.

Wind's toes curled in the waterlogged granules. A foaming wave washed forward, crashing against the boy's pruning skin. His response was a mere whisper above the roaring surf. "She cried when I left," a sandy-colored head leaned against your arm, soft enough that you could have pretended it wasn't there at all.

"Everyone cries, Link," you reassured him, though the results had yet to be seen. "It's what makes us hylian."

Silence.

You heaved a breath.

"Give your sister a hug, kid."

A pair of arms wrapped around your waist, and The Hero of the Winds began to cry in earnest.

"How is he?"

You were torn from your thoughts at the sound of Warriors' voice, glancing up at the Captain, who looked just as tired as you felt. His armor was nowhere in sight, leaving him in an off-white button-up and a pair of tan trousers.

A sigh forced itself from your lips, and you finally spared a glance at the sleeping boy on the mat next to you, one of your arms caged in his tight embrace while the other rested on your stomach. It had taken some convincing--and a hell of a lot of luck--to get the youngest hero into bed, and you hadn't the heart to tug yourself away when he latched onto you, face buried in the soft flesh of your bicep.

"Better," was your response, the ghost of a yawn tugging at the heels of your words. "If you couldn't tell, he's had a rough day."

The floor creaked as Warriors got comfortable beside you, keeping a respectful distance as he settled on one arm, gazing down at the both of you. "I'll say," he murmured, quiet enough that you hardly heard it. A pause, then: "You should rest."

This time, you didn't bother stifling your yawn, uncaring of how it might negatively affect your case. "Someone's gotta keep watch, Wars."

The Captain was unimpressed, raising a perfectly manicured eyebrow in obvious disagreement. You were almost jealous. "Yes, me. You're going to have just as rough a day as the Sailor if you don't sleep."

You rolled your eyes, hoping to draw things out as much as possible. You didn't want to leave Wind alone, you couldn't. "Pshh, who needs sleep?"

The floor groaned just as Warriors opened his mouth to offer what you assumed to be a spectacularly-planned rebuttal, only to let it click shut when Time's rumbling baritone filled the small room. Fuck. "What's this about sleep?"

Warriors cerulean eyes found yours, and it was a battle unto itself not to hiss at the smug glint that filled them. He nudged your shoulder, and you went ramrod straight, praying it wasn't enough to disturb Wind. "Just trying to convince a certain someone that insomnia isn't the answer."

That jerk!

"Is that so?" You could practically feel Time's gaze on you. Piercing, all-knowing; like a fucking owl. The floor groaned once more, and you turned your head to watch Time settle on your other side, directly behind Wind. Between him and Warriors, this was turning into a very unnecessary hylian sandwich. "The Captain is correct," said the eldest hero in a tone that sounded like he was laying down a law rather than talking about something as mundane as needing sleep. "Rest. We'll take turns."

"After you drank all that sleepy-time soup? I think not," you shot back, feeling a bit braver than usual. Maybe it was the night, or maybe it was because some twisted part of you wanted to be the only one to protect the youngest hero. "You two need it more than me. It's hard being old."

The Captain sputtered in quiet disbelief. Legend would be proud. "You think I'm old?"

"Actually, the word I meant was 'ancient'–"

"You're so lucky the Sailor's here."

"What're you going to do, lecture me to death–?"

"Quiet, you two," Time interjected, sounding every bit the old man that he was. You resisted the urge to roll your eyes, allowing yourself to fall silent for Wind's sake. Warriors made a huffing sound, but also quieted, shuffling to lean against one of the beams protruding from the wall. "There's no reason for all of us to stay up," ugh, that's why you were doing it for them! The Hero of Time said your name like an errant child, followed by a very punctuated: "Go to sleep."

There was no fighting with Time, you knew. He would win, and you would still be on your back next to the youngest hero whether you wanted it or not. Fucking heroes, always trying to look out for others before themselves, and Hylia knew the boys practically drooled at the prospect.

With a drawn-out sigh that rivaled Wind's in supposed age, you let your head fall against the woven mat, a springy thing that would have coaxed you to sleep hours ago had it not been for the boy clinging to your arm. "Fine," you relented, a mere breath in the inky, candle-shadowed expanse of the room. Eyes shut, but not asleep, you mumbled: "Night, Wars, Time."

Warriors' arm stretched over your stomach, his hand reaching to pat down the hem of Wind's shirt as it stretched up, revealing pearly flashes of the Sailor's skin, warm with sleep and rising with steady breaths, not unlike the gentle rocking of a ship upon the Great Sea's waters. Even after the youngest hero's modesty had once again been preserved, the Captain didn't move his arm, and you suspect its purpose was as much to keep you in place as it was to correct a potential wardrobe malfunction. "You're a jerk," you mumbled in half-hearted exasperation.

The Hero of Warriors' chuckle was loud in your ear. "Takes one to know one."

"Children," said Time from the other end of the sandwich, and you rightfully shut up. Fuck him, you could wield a sword as well as any of the others, which meant you were basically an adult by those criteria alone. Plus, you were dashingly attractive and that had to count for something!

Whatever, dad, you thought with an imaginary eye roll, because the eldest hero practically had eyes on the back of his head. He would know, and you were in no mood for another lecture after the one you received for aiding Wild in his quest to ride animals that were most certainly not meant to be ridden.

Sleep never came easy when you were worried, but something was different. While Warriors wasn't mashing himself to your side like Wind seemed intent of doing, the Captain was no less warm, and it was a battle not to hum when an errant insect brought him scooting closer, the heat from his chest soaking into your other arm. It was becoming increasingly obvious: you were trapped by these lovable dorks, and when Time's miraculously un-armored arm swung over to plant across the three of you, the deal was all but sealed.

Darkness blackened the corners of your vision, and the last thing you saw was Wind's sleep-soaked grin uptick in the candlelight.

Someone was calling your name.

You cracked your weary eyes open, ears straining to catch the ghostly mumble of your name; a strange, simultaneously booming and whispered call that seemed to ring in the very recesses of your eardrums. A soft groan left your mouth, only for something to slap down on your face.

"Shh, shh, they'll wake up!"

...Huh??

There was something– nay, someone above you. Someone with stormy blue eyes, wavy blonde hair, and–

"Wind?"

Wind grinned at the sound of his name, his teeth glimmering porcelain in the faint candlelight. His hands returned to your shoulders, shaking softly, and you realized you were still in bed, surrounded by the limp, sound-asleep frames of Time and Warriors, the latter of whose arm was still slung tightly around your stomach. "That's me," he whispered, nearly vibrating with excitement. Ominous, but you were here for it. And, as if the Goddesses themselves had heard your plea for answers that weren't complete horseshit, he continued: "I thought of a new game to play! But I need to test it out first."

Ah, right. If anyone liked games, it was Wind, and you were his all-too-gullible partner-in-crime. Only, these types of exchanges usually occurred at respectful hours of the morning or afternoon, prompting another, less exhausted groan from your mouth. "Can't this wait until morning, bud?"

The Sailor paused to consider the conundrum. "I just..." fuck, he was bringing out the wet baby seal eyes. Little bastard knew you didn't stand a chance. "I don't want to forget it..."

As predicted, your resolve crumbled in the face of his patented sad animal eyes. "Okay, okay," you relented, sitting up on your elbows, keeping your tone especially low to keep the adults trapped in their slumber. "But you have to help me get past Wars, yeah?"

"Duh," was his response, and you had no choice but to crack an equally conspiratorial grin as the Sailor helped you lift Warriors' arm up. He held it as you slid free, snagging a stack of blankets from the corner as a decoy.

Until the Captain grunted, expression scrunching as he registered the change in warmth, and your soul nearly burst out of your chest. Gently, shoving Wind to the side, you bent down to whisper in the Captain's ear in your best barmaid sexy voice: "I'll be just a moment, sugar, then we can continue where we left off ;)"

Another grumble left Warriors mouth, but it was significantly softer, and punctuated by a smacking noise as he attempted to kiss the blanket pile, which would have made for spectacular blackmail, if you were being honest. Where was Wild's Shiekah Slate when you needed it?! With the Captain distracted, you slipped around him, linked arms with Wind, and skipped into the pseudo-darkness like the troublemakers you were.

Once outside, you turned to the Sailor. "So! What's up, buttercup?"

"Well..." and thus began Wind's explanation of his latest 'game', which honestly sounded more like an excuse to run around on the beach than something with actual rules, but, once again, you were here for it. Until he got to the part about rolling in the waves in the dark. Especially when he got to the part about rolling in the waves in the dark.

When he was done, you placed your hands on your hips and grinned like the responsible older sibling you totally were. "That sounds super unsafe, so it'll totally be fun!"

Wind's mirroring grin could have outshone the sun, which was especially helpful considering it was nearly pitch black outside. "Right?! I bet we can get Wild to play today, too!"

"Wait, don't you mean tomorrow?"

"Huh? It's totally today; you were asleep for a while."

"...Wind, were you watching me sleep?"

"What? No! That was Time," the Sailor jammed his thumb into his chest, not passing up an opportunity to throw shade on his brothers. "I have manners."

You raised your hands in faux distress. "Ah, my mistake, good sir! My deepest apologies."

"You should be!" There was a roar, and Wind's head instantly whipped to the foaming surf. "Okay, let's go play before Time and Warriors wake up."

"I'd love nothing more," you patted his shoulder, subsequently raising your palm to meet his in a high-five that rang through the beach like a particularly juice ass slap. Not that you knew what one of those sounded like, per se, but with Legend and Warriors' playful rivalry still going strong, you didn't need to.

"Last one to the waves is a crab!" Wind yelled, dashing towards the waves, with you hot on his heels as an answering whoop tore from your throat.

The game without rhyme or rhythm carried well into the night, until the early morning light bathed the crashing ocean and footstep-marred sand, kicked up from hours of play. Your legs ached from running, and you were sure even Sky could have overtaken you in a race at this point, but it didn't matter. You were free, and you were having fun.

"Can't catch me!" Wind screamed in delight when you tried to tag him, dancing just out of reach like the agile little shit that he was, but you had been preparing for this moment your entire life, using the last of your energy to perform a sort of lunging dive, catching him in the stomach and sending the both of you rolling into the shallow waves, coughing and sputtering as you fought to catch your breath, soaked from head-to-toe and damn proud of it.

"You were saying, you slippery munchkin?!" you giggled, nose throat sore from all the saltwater inhaled over the course of the night. The Sailor sorted, reaching into the shallows and flicking a clump of seaweed at your face. You shrieked and dodged spectacularly, but he was ready with another, larger wad that managed to smack against your cheek, effectively sending you into another half-sputter, half-laughing fit as gallons of saltwater soaked the thick fabric of your tunic and trousers.

"Eat weed, loser!"

"Never!"

Your hand sunk into the sand and, before you knew it, a large clump of it was flung in Wind's direction, catching him in the blue-clothed chest.

Wind gasped.

"Oh, it's ON."

The following ten minutes devolved into what could only be described as a sand-ball fight to the death. Sand was thrown, dignity was abandoned, and you were absolutely positive you would be picking granules out of your holes and hair for the next month, but the sound of his laughter was worth every single grain.

It was only when the front door to the house slammed open and a near-frantic Warriors stumbled outside did you pause, sand pouring from your half-cocked hand. "WHERE–" the Captain caught sight of the two of you, covered in dirt and grinning like the maniacs you were, and simultaneously looked like ten years of his life had been spontaneously snatched away. Rumor has it his groan could be heard on the next island over. "–oh, you've got to be kidding me..."

"I'm a crab!" You called over the waves, eager for yet another opportunity to screw with him.

"Actually, you're a–" Warriors paused, placing his hands together like he was about to pray that your stupidity didn't infect him, too. His mouth moved with exhausted desperation: "Calm, Link, calm."

You and Wind exchanged a glance, but it was quickly broken when Time's silhouette filled the doorway, face curiously blank as he surveyed the scene over the defeated captain's shoulder.

A beat passed.

Time turned on his heel. Time went back inside, steps heralded by Warriors' betrayed whimper. You and Wind high-fived.

It wasn't always easy staying positive when it came to life, but with them, you were willing to try.

Whew! That was a long one! I was super inspired for this, and I hope y'all enjoyed!!

A 'lil extra for y'all:

"Time to get back to bed... sugar," Warriors visibly cringed at your appointed nickname, arms crossed over his chest, and Time looked a hairs-breadth away from smacking his palm to his forehead in exasperation.

You and Wind exchanged a glance that spoke a thousand words. Ignoring the vexed shouts from the older heroes, the Sailor jumped on your back and the two of you sped off into the sunrise, whooping like the madlads you were.

[kasel-the-mightless]

Okay I'ma be fully honest...... The mermaid Odysseus thingy is my new favorite thing in the world! I love you for the art!

Thank you! Thank you personally and all the awesome people in this fandom in general! Y'all probably don't realize how much I mean this because I don't really like to talk about what's going on in my head, but... thank you

My bursts of activity are always interspersed with bursts of apathy. I draw, I draw, I draw again and again until my eyes and hands ache. I talk, and I write, and I come up with new AUs, and I write songs—

And then, suddenly, all my energy evaporates and I can't even find the strength to get out of bed. Fr, last week I slept for almost three days straight. I woke up for about two hours and then fell asleep again. Because sometimes I don't want to wake up— oh wait, that sentence sounds depressing— stop— It's not a euphemism or anything angsty, it's just— just that some days I open my eyes, think 'nah, screw it' and fall back asleep for another five hours. Not a big deal, I'm totally fine!!

What I'm trying to say now— During my 'activity slumps' comments and words like these help me get my lazy ass off the floor/couch/bed (don't ask, sleep comes to me at unexpected times) and go do something. Maybe not drawing, but at least something. Bc you, guys, give me joy, and drive me, and just being awesome so much that my heart beats faster and I feel like I don't wanna sleep anymore. So—

Thank you. And thank you all. Really

[wheeloffortune-design]

I'm so happy for your new job opportunity man!!!!! I've been following your journey for a while and your updates have started feeling like the ones from a neighbour :) go kick ass!!!!!!!!!!!

thank you! :D Yeah, it's been a whole journey since I lost my job last september.... if i recall correctly, in the last four months, I-

crammed all the dentist appointments i could get in two weeks before my insurance ran out = 5h total of getting cavities filled

spent so much time applying to jobs, first in the artistic domain i wanted, then for management/desk jobs, then retail. i made a dozen CVs, a bunch of portfolios, countless cover letters. it took two months, and only the art store called me back.

went to two small conventions and gave presentations in both

had an artist table at the rpg convention so i had to prepare prints and stuff

drew a whole pinup calendar in a couple of weeks

built an online store and set the print on demand system to sell prints and said calendars

somewhere around that was halloween. i was a sexy pirate.

wrote a short-story in three days to meet a deadline

drew a lot of commissions, one of them with cars, it was hard

got a retail job at the art store

turned 40! my friends brought face makeup at the party, i was a pink spiderman.

worked full time at the art store, was physically exhausting

completely reorganized the framing department

a friend told me about a storyboarding opportunity that would open in january, showed me how to use the program

christmas rush

lost my grandma, was a very hard time for the family

awkward holidays

between christmas and new year i learned how to use storyboard pro and made a animatic as a portfolio piece (while working 40h)

new year. my resolution is fame and fortune.

had to prepare the kickstarter plan for the upcoming novel

grandma's funeral

online cover reveal party for the book

corrected the line edits of Mrs. Victoria, reread the whole book in three days

the studio liked the animatic i send, they made me take a storyboarding test, which took two days

reminder that i'm still working a 40h/week job and coming back home most days at 9pm. it's winter, in canada.

the test was accepted, i negotiated the contract

and today i told the art store i was leaving

i'm startig the new job on monday.

so yeah, i haven't stopped for a moment in the last four months. i still have some commissions to draw, and then i'll start writing and drawing stuff for the kickstarter, but i'll have a lot more time, money, and energy to tackle all this.

(i'm very lucky that i was finally medicated for adhd just before all of this, i couldn't have made it without my friend concerta.)

so this is gonna be me for the next couple of days, lots of sleep, maybe play a video game. make the puzzle i received at christmas.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Study Buddy 5

Warnings:this series will include dark elements which may include bullying, noncon or dubcon, or violent behaviour. Mind the warnings.

Summary: a group project leads to a tense partnership.

Character: Walter Marshall

Big thanks to those who read! Feedback always helps inspire and you know I’m always happy to chat about possibilities! Please reblog and comment ❤️

Despite feeling entirely out of place, you can’t resist the draw of sleep. Nestled on the couch beneath a blanket, a soft pillow under your head, you drift away from the tension rippling off your study buddy. Even in the next room, you sense the density in the air. 

You’re so tired, you hear yourself snoring from the depths of your unconscious. Your brain is sludge and your dreams are murky. You only wake up as you sense the murmur of voices. 

You open your eyes to the glare of the TV in the pale light of day. You rub your cheek as your vision clears. You blink at the screen as the teen drama plays out. 

“You snore louder than my dad,” Faye snorts. “Morning, sunshine.” 

You lurch up, almost top-turning from the suddenness of it all. You remember where you are in an instant. You knead your temple as you try to sort yourself out. 

“Um, good morning,” you croak through your dry throat. “How are you feeling?” 

“Better,” she grins, still in her pajamas as she drapes her legs over the armrest of the chair. “How about you?” 

“Urgh, tired,” you drop your hand as the blanket falls to your lap. “Sorry, I should go--” 

“Daaaad,” Faye hollers over you. 

You flinch and turn as you hear footsteps. As you glance over, Walter emerges in a bathroom. You can tell by the glimpse of his furry chest and the glisten in his curls that he just got out of the shower. 

“Your friend’s awake.” She chirps. 

He looks at you and his shoulders square. He really doesn’t like you. You can’t help but wonder why he insisted you stay. 

“It’s alright, I’m just about to head out,” you stand and fold the blanket and set it neatly on the cushion. “Thanks, again.” 

“You should at least have breakfast. Dad made waffles.” 

“Waffles? Oh,” you glance at him. “I wouldn’t want to... impose.” 

“No big deal, I saved some batter. Iron heats up in a snap,” he shrugs. 

You face him as you cross the room. You stop by the doorway into the entry, “it’s very nice of you but I’m okay. I really should try to catch a bus.” 

“Gimme a few and I’ll drive you.” He offers. 

“Really, it’s...” 

He’s already stalking away before you can finish your protest. You sigh and grimace at his back. He really doesn’t give you a chance to argue. With anything. Would it be easier to just have him look at the paper before you go and tell you everything that’s wrong? 

“My dad likes you,” Faye giggles. “He doesn’t like anyone.” 

“Um, I don’t think so,” you lean on the doorframe and stare at the TV, trying to make sense of the snarky conversation. 

“He does,” she insists. “I know, I’m the only other person he likes.” 

“Sure,” you tut. “Does it matter? I just need to get this project done.” 

“Don’t you think it’s funny? My dad taking a writing course? He doesn’t really seem like the creative type. More the bashing skulls type,” she cackles. 

“I don’t really know... him.” 

“What did you think when he showed up? I’d be pissing my pants,” she doesn’t look away from the TV as she speaks. 

“I don’t know, I thought someone named Walter would be skinnier... maybe have glasses and a pension?” 

She laughs even louder, “oof, don’t say that too loud.” 

You let yourself smile. She’s not a bad kid. If you were her age, you might be friends. 

“I’m just going to get my stuff together,” you say, “uh, Faye, it was nice to meet you.” 

“You too. Nice to have someone around to keep the wolf from coming out in the full moon,” she snipes. 

You snicker softly and leave her. The analogy isn’t far off. Walter does fit the type. He’s a bit furry after all. 

You check that everything’s in your bag and ben to put on your shoes. You pull on your jacket and Walter appears; he wears a black hoodie and dark jeans. He pulls on a jacket and leaves it undone before he grabs his boots. 

You zip up your coat and hook your bag on your shoulder, “thanks, again. You know, I have a bus pass.” 

He grumbles and you quiet. Don’t push your luck. Hopefully he only needs to revise a little and you can be done with all this. 

You flinch as he suddenly moves toward you. Your eyes round and you hit the door with your back. He tilts his head as he reaches past you for the handle. You look down and cringe. 

“Sorry, I wasn’t... paying attention.” 

He hums and you shift out of his way. He opens the door and lets you out first. You step into the sunshine, a deceptive beacon as your breath puffs out visibly. You cross your arms as he locks the door. 

He gestures you ahead of him to his truck. You go down the walk and to the driveway. You wait on the passenger side until the locks click. You open the door and climb in. He has a much easier time stepping into the high vehicle. 

He pulls his seatbelt down as you do the same. He turns the engine and lets it rumble as he turns the dials for the vent. He checks the mirrors and grips the wheel in one hand. He leans his elbow on the arm rest as he backs out. 

“You know,” he says as he rights the tires. “I got eye surgery so I don’t need the glasses anymore.” 

You squint at his remark. What? It takes a moment before you realise. Shoot. 

“It was a joke,” you say. “Obviously...” 

“No pension for another fifteen years at least and, well, helps to have a bit of bulk in my line of work.” 

Your cheeks burn in embarrassment. You really didn’t mean anything. 

“I’m sorry, I... yeah, I say stupid things.” 

He’s quiet as he steers. He sucks his teeth as he stops at a sign, “it was a good joke. Better than Faye’s werewolf schtick.” 

“Oh, uh, right,” you flick your thumb nervously. 

“You seem like the werewolf type. Know any good books?” He asks. 

“Werewolf type? Um, didn’t think I put out that vibe but... maybe Mongrels? I don’t read a lot about that stuff actually.” 

“Mongrels,” he nods. “I’ll check it out.” 

You’re almost flattered that he’d take your recommendation, less so that he thinks you’re a Twilight girlie. You stare through the windshield and take the victory for what it is. You don’t think you’ll be getting any more than that. 

[horizontalsplash]

think we might be experiencing some disregulated emotions today boys

[luck-of-the-drawings]

"And soda; runs off into the street..." "...and soda... is totally okay!"

[a-s-levynn]

I have traveled far beyond the path of reason, take me back to Eden

edit: more context in the tags of the root post

[milkbreadtoast]

yu junghyeok and prince cedric have like practically the same design (+v similar personality) but listen the Vibes they have r diff... idk if this makes sense but u know charas w tired dilf energy... YJH has that but not cedric.. hes like a baby.. the way I describe it is YJH is babygirl but cedric is just my baby🫂🔥🔥🔥*gets incinerated* SKJDJ idk if it's noticeable at all but I try to capture diff vibes when I draw them....

when i draw cedric i try to go full shoujo... he is a romance novel male lead... sparkly eyes bright colors 90s anime blush... goes full squish mode when drawing him chibi MFNSKJ🤭

but when i draw yjh im like... no i have to convey the Angst and Depression.... *gives him dark circles and takes the light from his eyes*😇🖤

idk if it's noticeable but I also try to differentiate their designs in subtle ways (besides eye color etc),,, I give them diff eyebrow shapes!! I like YJH with triangle brows(thicker at the ends) and cedric w tapered brows(thicker toward the middle) like the webtoon... I also try to make cedric's hair a bit curlier than YJH🥹

[icewindandboringhorror]

Recent images I suppose ~

[puppppppppy]

for like 3 weeks i was wondering why i was sleeping so much and felt listless. and just now I managed to email 3 people and responded to a month old message in the span of an hour because I got back to TAKING MY FUCKIN MEDS..........

[solace-seekers]

screaming into the void <3