sleepy

always yearning ▹🐦‍⬛❄️🍎◃

[snoozer-crow]

nick | he/him | 22 | lads sideblog | 18+!!

masterlist | ao3 | my mc

hii this is my sideblog for love and deepspace! i post/reblog nsfw so this blog is 18+, mdnf please! i mainly write hurt/comfort & fluff! send whatever you want in my ask box!

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more info

i'm fine with minors interacting with my sfw stuff! just don't follow me or interact with anything 18+ that i've posted, please!!

i am very anti-ai, so if you knowingly post or reblog something generated by it i will block you! i don't want to risk my creations being fed into ai. i also don't support reposting fanart without credit, so i block accounts that do that as well! i strongly dislike the hypocrisy of writers that vocally disallow reposts of their writing while at the same time blatantly reposting artists' work without bothering to do the five minutes of research it takes to find the original source and include credit. the normalization of this practice is frustrating to me, so i sometimes comment the source of the artwork under posts that do this.

i write for gn or male submissive reader! i spend hours writing each blurb and also obsessively edit them after i post. i write as an escape, so everything i post is very self indulgent and has a lot of my yearning baked into it.

if you see anything wrong with my characterization of the guys or if i make a mistake while writing them, let me know!!

if you send a request, i'll fill it eventually! my writing just relies heavily on random bursts of inspiration so you'll be waiting probably a month+ for me to finish it haha. i put a lot of myself into everything i write, so i can't just do something casual off the dome. i only know sylus, caleb, and zayne well enough to write for them.

i will not write fem reader, dom reader, crackfics, or anything relating to pregnancy and children! there are many other talented writers who do though, so send your request their way!! if your fem!reader request would still work as gender neutral, i'll just change that part while writing.

i'm infp-t and 4w5, if that's something normal to put here! i also want to make friends, so if you're also interested, shoot me a dm!! (pleaseee!)

my main blog is @nick-spiegel , so if you see that one liking stuff, that's me :) (please don't mention this lads blog there though!! i'm shyy)

tags guide: #my thoughts - posts about the lads guys #talk - more personal stuff #asks - asks people sent me #asks i sent - asks i've sent other people #sylus, #caleb, #zayne - individual LI tags #nsft - my nsfw posts #recs - my favorite fics by other people

[snoozer-crow]

i’m gonna be embarrassed to send this but i need to tell u how much i love ur thoughts and all ur sylus works hdhfjdj ur honestly the best writer ever and i just wanna send u this cs i appreciate your works sososo much <33 never stop writing, i genuienly eat up everything u post every chance i get and sometimes it even gives me motivation to write for myself !! (that somno idea is still stuck in my head) HAHA i’ve been meaning to send this for a while but i got hella nervous every time..!, but anyway!! thank u for ur service goat 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

omgomg THE wetforsylus!!!!!!! thank you so much!!!!! i was so excited when i got this ask please don't be embarrassed!!! i'm so glad you enjoy my works, it really means a lot and i'm super happy they can help motivate you to write too!!! i always notice when u like my fics and i get happy knowing you read them! :)))

alsoalso don't feel nervous at all!!!! i get nervous too and ive always wanted to be your friend but ive never reached out LSJKDF (is that super parasocial to say??!?! LMAO) i'm actually the biggest loser irl i just sit at home and think about fictional men all day LOLL

thank you sososo much for the kind ask and for reading my works!!!! YOU KEEP WRITING TOO!!! <3333

[snoozer-crow]

btwbtw. his little goggles omg!!!!!!! he's so cute!!!!!! gnawing at the bars of my enclosure i need to Maul him. like a wild animal

[keypostos]

caleb is 10 when he realizes that he's a physical touch fiend. the rush he gets when his hand lingers on top of your skin after playing with you is like no other. when he presses into your side while you're reading, his thoughts always circle around one topic: you, you, you. when you would run into his room after a nightmare, caleb was ready to swoop you in his arms and hold you until you fell asleep. every response towards you was involuntary.

caleb is 15 when he realizes that teasing 13-year-old you becomes irresistible. when he holds up your book, pencil, or some other item in the air, he watches as you jump up and down to try and grab it back. he's grown a lot in three years; if he had to estimate, he's a whole head taller than you now—20cm at least.

when you throw yourself onto him in an attempt to get your stuff back, he falters. you're laying against him on the couch, shuffling and moving up and down over his body, and caleb's breath hitches. you're so close and right there.

he's going insane. you can't even stand up for five seconds before caleb pulls you down against him once more, saying something about retaliation or revenge while tickling you to death.

caleb is 20 when he's about to leave for the DAA. there's an air of silence around the house. you've trapped yourself in your room more often, stressing over your senior finals. at least, that's what you've been telling him.

"i'm sorry caleb, i really need to study for this test."

"oh! i totally forgot about that project i had due tonight. shit, i'm sorry caleb. we'll have another movie night soon, okay?"

he doesn't know if you're actually this busy or if you're actually ignoring him. all he does know is that he misses you. he wonders about how he could miss someone who was in the room across from him. you were so close, but so far.

when you found out he was leaving—though you had a grin on your face while congratulating him—caleb knew you were devastated. he wondered if you were secretly mad at him for leaving.

two weeks before his departure, he practically forces you to be around him. he laid down next to you like before. he stroked your hair while you napped on the couch. he teased you and picked you up so you could hit him and grab him like you used to. he always chose to put his arm around you during a movie. he dragged you by the hand all around the neighborhood. he needed to all of that again, a thousand times more.

but at 24, it seems like there may have been a wedge between the two of you. calls are more and more infrequent.

"sorry, space signal sucks," he'd type.

"sorry, i was busy with training!" you'd reply, 2 days later.

he thinks that he would do anything to go back to before. he hasn't felt you in months. he sees you only twice a year.

it's hard. it was excruciating during the first few weeks. not only was he dealing with bootcamp, but he always found himself looking to his side, thinking you'd be there with him. at night, you were there, right next to him in bed.

he imagined that you would whisper words of reassurance in his ear. you'd hold onto him like you used to, when you had nightmares, and wrap your legs between his. there were days where we stroked his necklace, wishing that it was your hand instead. what he would give to have you next to him.

all he wants is to be able to feel you again. he chastises his 10-year-old self for taking you for granted back then. he wants to feel the apples of your cheeks when he caresses your face. once,—when he was 13 (you, 11)—he did that, and he thought you had a fever the way you warmed up. if he could, caleb would build a time machine to go back to that.

caleb is 25 when he is out of your life.

he thinks about you every day. it reminds him of when he was in bootcamp five years ago. it takes him back to when he was fifteen; you were on top of him, and his brain was fried to a crisp. caleb wonders if he's always been this way, because he can recall that at ten, you were still the only thing consuming his mind.

even during his arm repairs, you're there throughout all the pain.

when you discover his metal arm, all of caleb's instincts point to the door. he's spent so long trying to hide it from you: it's the constant long-sleeves (even though they made him incredibly uncomfortable), or making sure to only touch you with his left-hand (even though he wanted to pull you in with both hands).

but he stays. because it's you.

you freeze momentarily, listening to his writhes and moans of pain. caleb only notices you're there when he feels your hands brush his shoulder. he jolts back in surprise, and he sees you looming over him.

he stammers something, not even sure of what he said because you're here. you see him. you see it.

caleb's wanted this for so long. he wanted to see you again, in a state where you were both vulnerable, like old times. however, that moment probably wouldn't have come if he doesn't confess about this, so he relays the details.

you listen attentively, eyes wide with shock as caleb goes on. your hands wrap around his metal one, and he feels nothing. it's agonizing. he sees you examine him so gently. your fingers trace over bolts and plates of metal, lightly stroking up and down his arm. and caleb feels nothing.

how often has he dreamed of this? for you to be touching him again, so intimately and softly? he's stayed up countless nights wishing for you to be here, just so he can put his arms around you in a crushing embrace, only to be incapable of feeling you on one side of his body.

you pull away from his arm, asking if the fleet was accountable. when he doesn't say anything, he feels your weight lift off the bed and go towards the door.

whatever happens next is involuntary. he uses his flesh arm to pull you back, caging you between his forearm and his chest. there's no thought to it, no rationalization. it's just you and him. and he's been deprived of this for so long.

he breathes into the crevice of your neck, and he has half a mind to place his entire face there. he wants to breathe you in after being away from you for so long. no conversations, no contact, no touching. the last time he was this close to you was years ago. he needs this, caleb thinks.

the feel of you against his bare chest is something he cannot seem to describe. it's like he's his teenage (or even kid) self again, where he seems to short-circuit whenever he comes in contact with you. you're still small compared to him, but you fit perfectly like you did a decade ago.

he lets you go after he feels you trembling. you don't hesitate to place your hands on his waist and tackle him onto the bed. you catch him off-guard as you pin him beneath you, looking straight into his eyes.

"hold me," you plead, "with your right hand."

caleb lets out a shaky breath. there are voltages of electricity flowing through him—literally and figuratively. his skin sparks alive when he feels you. will it be the same with the metal arm?

slowly, caleb raises his mechanical arm. he wraps it around you, and feels the movement of your back shift downwards. you released a breath you didn't know you were holding. caleb held his.

you wait patiently before caleb starts running his metal hand up and down your back. you watch him exhale as he continues. you press your forehead on his, and you breathe in tandem with him.

caleb is 25 when he discovers that he loves physical touch.

wow like i didn't expect this to get so long... but like here we are???

i think we need to start embracing touch-starved caleb in all of our fics. this man hasn't seen the love of his life in YEARS (infrequently, anyway) so i think once she touches him (like INTIMATELY) for the first time in years he goes a little cray.

also sorry the ending was rushed i wanted to get this over with bc i intented this to be like 500 words but obviously it got way longer than that. what can i say... this freak has dug into my brain.

[snoozer-crow]

🐦‍⬛ Isn't this what you wished for? 👁️

< Intro | Chapter 1 Self aware Sylus x gn reader, hurt/comfort CW: vomit, derealization, general sickness wc: 1.7k

You slowly stir back into consciousness, a gooey exhaustion clinging to your entire body and weighing you down uncomfortably. A wave of motion sickness flows through you as you attempt to sit up, having to try multiple times in order to get your aching muscles to cooperate.

Your vision spins as you try to reorient yourself. Everything feels just slightly wrong, like a space you were once familiar with has been tampered with, all your belongings moved an inch out of place, causing your body's instinctual memory to falter and stumble over what once felt natural.

But, by far, the greatest discomfort comes from your heart. It aches, a deep, pulsing pain; and it thumps harder than it ever has in your life. Each beat jostles your whole body, and you slump over, your hands clasped over your chest as you tremble.

After a couple of deep breaths to hold the nausea at bay and attempt to calm yourself, you sit upright again, and your vision clears enough to be able to make out your surroundings.

You're in a large, intimidating room with gothic-style decor, dimly lit by flickering firelight that's dampened by walls painted completely black. Your aching body is gently cradled by silk sheets with the highest thread count you've ever felt. Something about this room tugs at the edges of your memory, but it slips away whenever you attempt to grasp at it. A canopy drapes above you, framing the view of a shadowy-looking city outside the large floor-to-ceiling windows, and…

You startle as your somewhat delirious mind finally takes notice of the figure seated in front of you. There's a pitcher of water with two expensive-looking glasses set on a table behind him, as well as a bowl of fresh fruit. He's slumped over in a luxurious armchair, his head resting on his knuckles as he breathes deeply, fast asleep. That's- no way, this can't be right.

You check your hands — five fingers on both, no abnormalities. You're wearing your usual pajamas, and the details are all there, down to the smallest stain. This is too clear to be a dream. This hurts too much to be a dream. So what, a psychotic break? Are you going insane?

Intense pain blooms deep in your skull, and you cover your face, holding back a shuddering sob. Chills and shivers wrack your body, and it takes everything you have to keep yourself from crying out and waking the stranger in front of you. The stranger, because there's no way that's who you think it is. He's not real. You must be going insane; it hurts so badly. You bite down on your palm to keep yourself quiet, tasting iron as your unease builds even further.

You have to get out of here. You have to get out of here. Dizzy and delirious, you climb out of bed, nearly collapsing to the floor just from trying to stay standing. You unsteadily stumble forward on legs shaking from the effort of holding up your own body weight, singularly focused on moving forward. You've never felt this weak before.

With a great amount of effort, you reach the door to the bedroom, and luckily, the door's hinges don't squeak as you push it open. You're relieved to have something to lean on, bracing your shoulder against the wall as you force yourself to keep moving forward.

You're unsure of your goal as you mindlessly limp down the hallway, peeking past the open doors in hopes of finding something, anything. No luck. Not even a promising-looking potential hiding place. Acid bubbles up in your throat, and you choke on a cough, just barely swallowing it back down. Your throat burns as the liquid retreats, but you know it likely won't be gone for long.

A bathroom. You need a bathroom. Shivering as another wave of chills rolls through you, you keep moving forward. There would have likely been one attached to the bedroom you woke up in, but you're not going to risk heading back in there, not when there's some sort of doppelganger at your bedside.

A wave of pain originating from your heart forces you to your knees, and you gasp, your vision blurring with tears. You struggle back up to your feet, and you think you catch a glimpse of red, beady eyes glowing in your direction from a vantage point up above. But when you try for a second glance, they're gone.

The nausea in the back of your throat is rapidly worsening, and it's looking like you won't get to a bathroom in time. You stumble into a random room, looking for a garbage can, but there's none in your limited field of vision. Acting on instinct, you crawl under a table in the corner like a defeated dog, curling up as you try to hold back the inevitable.

The ringing in your ears grows louder as tears drip down your nose, hand pressed to your mouth. You're too drained to flinch when you feel cool fingers brushing your neck as they carefully gather up your hair, holding it out of the way as another hand gently pries yours from your mouth, nearly engulfing it as a thumb rubs slow circles on the back.

"It's alright. Just let it out, sweetheart. I've got you."

You sob, a hiccup quickly followed by a cough, then a violent retch as your body expels a thick, viscous, black goo onto the ground in front of you. You don't even have enough time to be horrified before more quickly follows, this time mixed with the contents of your stomach.

It tastes awful, leaving a lingering burn in your throat and your mouth, and the taste of what you can only imagine as rotten flesh. You cough up a few more mouthfuls before slumping forward, easily caught by the large hands that have handled you so delicately.

Your vision is spotty as your body is pulled forward, retrieving you from your hiding spot with the utmost care. Your mouth is carefully wiped with a silk handkerchief before you feel the figure lifting you with incredible ease, guiding your chest to lean against his own as he stands up. He must be very tall, you muse, as you're quite far off the ground.

He walks slowly, one arm beneath your thighs and the other rubbing circles into your back to keep you steady and attempt to mitigate the effects of motion sickness. You appreciate his efforts to keep you comfortable. Your throat still burns; you think it got into your sinuses, too. You sob softly into his shoulder. You can't stop shaking.

You lose focus for a little while, almost dozing off, but you're brought back by the soothing sensation of a warm washcloth gently cleaning your face, wiping away your dried tears and the leftover black residue around your lips and nose. You're sitting on the edge of a cold bathtub, with the man's hand still pressed to your back to keep you from toppling over.

A plastic cup is tapped to your mouth, accompanied by a soft command.

"Swish."

You do as he says, opening up for the liquid and swishing it around in your mouth. Once you're done, he guides you to lean over and spit it out into the tub, bringing you back to wipe your lips again. How did he know your favorite mouthwash…? Lucky guess?

You're lifted again, and you lean into the man, burying your face in his chest for comfort. He smells nice; a small but very welcome distraction from your poor condition. You don't think you've ever felt closer to death than you do now. The deep, burning agony in your heart has begun to spread slowly through your veins, and your muscles now protest with a throbbing pain left from overexertion.

You're pulled from the grounding warmth of his chest yet again and delicately placed in the bed where you woke up, back in the embrace of its silken sheets, now soothingly cool against your feverish skin. You're propped up like a doll against slanted pillows, and the man sits in front of you, dipping the mattress. His hands press another cup to your lips, this one made of glass.

"Drink."

You doubt you could gather enough energy to raise your arms to grip his wrist, so you thoughtlessly comply, the water feeling heavenly against your irritated throat, clearing much of the remnants of black goop still clinging to the inside. You drain the whole glass in no time, and after he refills it, you drain another. You're about to ask for a third, but the man places the cup aside, opting to press the back of his hand to your forehead instead.

"You have an incredibly high fever…" He murmurs, concern laced in his tone. "We need to see how that water settles first, then I can give you some more."

You turn away from him, your gaze fixing instead on your hands. Your skin looks much greyer than it should. But you can't bring yourself to care as exhaustion begins to tug insistently at your mind, urging you to relinquish your feeble grip on consciousness. You almost do, but you're interrupted again by the man's voice.

"Do you remember who I am?"

You blink a few times, forcing your eyes to focus in order to make contact with the stranger's ruby-red ones. There's a hint of desperation and vulnerability in them that you hadn't spotted before.

"… Sylus?" you rasp, your throat feeling like it's filled with shards of broken glass. Though, the pain is worth it when you get to catch the surprised relief on the man's face. Maybe it is really him.

Instead of confirming or denying your assumption, he gently lifts one of your hands, leaning down and pressing his lips to your knuckles. There's a new tenderness when he speaks now, as if your existence itself is as fragile as glass and he's afraid to shatter reality.

"Rest. I'll be by your side until you wake."

Some part of you deep inside feels comforted by that, so you let go, falling into the cavernous abyss of sleep.

. . . . .

Taglist: @haze-ez @87percentcreativity @mia-menaceinaction @liztuxiemacks @akarimochi0523 @glitch-but-ya @younghideoutberserker @theeidare @aoirohi @kyushii @lex-the-flex @rosalietodd013 @jjustangel @confused-mc

[chronosdawn]

LaDS Meet-cute Scenarios

I'm having thoughts on how you meet the LADs LIs in a modern AU, no evols, no past lives, no mysterious connections to each other, just regular meet-cutes (or perhaps more like meet-ugly in some cases). Please note MC is not a separate character in this scenario, it’s just you and the boys (*^▽^*) Enjoy~

Xavier

You meet Xavier on a blind date your friend set up for you at a hotpot place. It’s been a while since you’ve been out with anyone—thus your friend insisting on you meeting this new guy she’s sure is a perfect fit for you—so you’re a bit nervous and you end up arriving early. Figuring you might as well get the two of you a table, you take a seat while keeping your eyes on the door, anxiously bouncing your leg under the table as you message your date to let him know you’re here.

A man enters, at least 6 feet tall and with a head of blonde hair, which matches the description you were given when this was all set up, so you merrily wave him over. He pauses and seems to look confused for moment—oh God, what if your friend hyped you up too much and now he’s disappointed—but he obligingly comes over and you shove the menu into his hands and usher him to sit down. You pour him some water from the jug on the table as you ask how his journey was, and he replies it was fine, albeit a little stiltedly.

Unfortunately, that makes you even more nervous, and when you’re nervous, you get chatty, like you’re trying to fill an awkward silence before it can form. It’s only the waitress coming over to take your order—which he provides in a soft, smooth voice—that finally gets you to quiet down. There’s a pause after she leaves and you take the moment to apologise for yapping away, explaining that you haven’t been on a date in a while and he’s a lot more handsome than your friend made out, so you’re a little tense.

As you’re nearing the end of this explanation, you get a text pop up on your phone from… your date?

You look up at the man in front of you, who is decidedly not on his phone, and then back down at the message which reads sorry, smth came up, can’t make it.

At this point, the guy across from you is also looking at your phone, and it seems he’s started to put the pieces together himself. You’re not sure you’ve ever been more mortified than when you realise you have effectively forced some poor random man on a date with you. For a while you just stare at him helplessly, as though maybe the truth will un-reveal itself and you can go back to blissful ignorance, until he interrupts by offering to move to a different table.

Looking around, you realise the restaurant has quickly filled up since you arrived, to the point you’re not sure there is another free table, and even if there were, you really don’t think he should be the one to move. You explain as much when you finally come to your senses enough to apologise, offering to pay the bill and leave yourself. After a little back and forth, you eventually decide together that since the order’s been placed you might as well eat while you’re here and you can split the bill later.

Xavier, as you find out his name is, actually turns out to be quite easy to talk to, once you’ve calmed down enough from your mistake to have an actual conversation. It turns out you both like the same comic series as well, and you leave the restaurant with a plan to meet up for lunch again.

Needless to say, you don’t bother trying to rearrange anything with your actual intended date.

Rafayel

You meet Rafayel when you rescue him while working late one night at the University. It’s a Friday and everyone else has long since left to start their weekends but you have a review meeting coming up, and after dealing with some deeply uncooperative cell cultures, you’re grinding to gather as much useable data as you can possibly get. You step out of the lab briefly to grab yourself something with caffeine in it while the centrifuge whirs away, only to stop when you see someone gesticulating wildly while talking loudly into their phone outside the building.

They’re in the courtyard that connects your Biology building and the Art department—why someone had put the two next to each other, you would never know—the very same one with doors that could only be opened via keycard after 6pm and no alternative exit route. You’re just wondering if the young man might be stuck out there when he spots you through the glass door and starts waving at you before pointing at the door’s release button on the inside. Ah, so he is stuck then you think, as you walk over and press it, how long has he been out there?

The doors start to open automatically, and as soon as enough space opens up, the man hurls himself through the gap almost as though he thinks they might change their mind and try to shut him out again. He looks back through the doors like the mere existence of the courtyard is an attack upon his person and asks you if your university makes a regular point of trying to trap its guests. You can only shrug in reply, but he looks put out enough that you feel a bit sorry for him, so you offer him some of the fancy tea and snacks you keep around for when your experiments go to shit and you need some cheering up.

And that’s how you end up entertaining Rafayel, art legend who had been cajoled into doing a guest lecture at your university, in your lab group’s office space over tea at almost 9pm. He regales you with the story of how he’d been kept late by the Dean of the art department talking his ear off, trying to persuade him into taking a fixed-term position, and had then wandered out the wrong exit and ended up in the predicament you’d found him in. You have the sense this venting is much needed, so you let him carry on, offering sympathy when appropriate.

Surprisingly, he then turns the conversation to you and you find yourself prattling away about your research project. You do make something of an effort not to fully nerd out on him, but it’s difficult when he’s a good listener and seems able to pick up on the bits you’re the most passionate about. He manages to wheedle your phone number out of you before he leaves, with the excuse of needing someone to rescue him should he fall victim to the courtyard again—though you struggle to imagine why he’d come back after his first experience with the University.

It catches you rather by surprise then, when you see his name pop up as a new hire in the newsletter that circulates the week after.

Zayne

You meet Zayne while on your way to comfort your friend after a break up. Said break up has been a long time coming—at least, in your opinion as someone who never liked the bastard to begin with—but that doesn’t mean she’s any less upset about it, which is why you step into the elevator of her apartment building with a plastic bag containing a full tub of rocky road ice cream, a box of her favourite truffles and a cheap bottle of wine. You press the button for her floor and then the one to hold the door as you spot a man also walking towards the elevator.

He thanks you politely, reaching the doors in just a few long strides and pressing the button for a different floor before standing on the opposite side to you. The doors close and the elevator starts to rise as you get your phone out to let your friend know you’re here. It’s then that you hear an awful grinding noise and the elevator comes to an abrupt stop, decidedly not at either of your intended floors. For a moment, you hope it’s just stopped to let some other resident of the building in, but several seconds pass with the doors refusing to open and you exchange concerned looks with the only other occupant. It seems, you both agree, that the elevator is stuck.

You do the sensible thing of pressing the call button and alerting the building’s management team to the problem, who promise you they’ll deal with the issue as soon as they can, and you’re then left with the reality of being trapped in an enclosed space with a complete stranger. As you attempt to surreptitiously study the guy, you note that while he’s pretty good-looking and well-dressed, the faint dark lines under his eyes scream of someone who’s had too long of a day to deal with the bullshit of getting stuck in an elevator.

Spreading your old, tired coat on the ground, you sit yourself down and offer the spot next to you to the guy. He initially looks like he’s going to refuse but with a bit of needling, he seats himself next to you with a heavy sigh.  Figuring you might as well try to get comfortable, you offer him a handshake and introduce yourself. You learn his name is Zayne, he works as a doctor at the nearby hospital and the only reason he’s in the building is because he planned to pick up something from a colleague before heading home. As your conversation continues, it’s not too difficult to pick up on the fact that he’s not the most extroverted individual in the world, but there’s nothing like being stuck somewhere with no other source of entertainment aside from your nearly dead phone to spur you into keeping the conversation going.

More time passes with no sign of immediate rescue, so you dig the portable cutlery set out from your workbag and offer to split your rapidly melting ice cream with your new elevator buddy. Once you are finally liberated from your shared confinement—a process that takes over two hours in the end—you’re down one tub of ice cream and a half a box of truffles. Zayne offers to compensate you for both, but you’ve grown fond enough of his dry sense of humour that you propose a counter offer: next time he can treat you to some ice cream, ideally in a nicer location than the floor of a broken down elevator.

He accepts.

Sylus

You meet Sylus during a run in with your miserable, cheating ex. It’s been a rough month all in all, trying to stitch together the tattered edges of your life where they’d previously been entangled with another person. As a treat, you decide to take yourself out shopping, a higher end store than you’d usually frequent, but you feel like you’ve earned it by surviving the last four weeks.

Your nice day out is cut short however, when you spot your ex with the sidepiece he’d been seeing behind your back clinging to his arm and sporting a sizeable diamond ring on her left hand. Unfortunately, they spot you before you have time to process properly that the person you thought you were going to spend the rest of your life with is engaged no more than a month after your break up. They approach you and the conversation is as full of petty bullshit as you would expect from the two worst people you know—your ex making sure to mention the expensive honeymoon they’ve got booked after the lavish wedding they’re going to have next spring.

Then the conversation turns to you, and your ex’s new fiancée asks snidely if you’re seeing anyone. It’s obvious from the smug look on her face that she knows the answer is no and something in you just snaps. You’re not thinking straight—you’d never do something like this if you were— when you grab the poor stranger unfortunate enough to be standing close to you and announce him as the new guy you’ve been seeing. All you can tell from your peripheral is that he’s well-dressed and considerably taller than your ex, who always had a bit of a thing about his height.

You see your ex’s expression falter as he looks the guy over and it emboldens you enough that you finally let loose the verbal tirade you wanted to give him the day you found someone else’s nudes on his phone. To say you eviscerate the pair of them would be putting it mildly; by the end of your little speech, half the store has turned to watch and at least one grandmother is clutching at her pearl necklace.

To finish off with the appropriate dramatics, you march away from the pair with your head held high and manage to make it halfway across the shop floor before you realise you’ve dragged the random stranger you grabbed hold of with you. An apology to end all apologies at drawing the poor man into your drama starts to form on your tongue, only to have it wither away the moment you get a proper look at him. The arm you’re hanging onto belongs to one of the most intimidating—and good-looking, but that’s a little beside the point—guys you’ve ever seen.

It’s immediately apparent from his build that the only reason you got this far is because he let you haul him away. And then there’s the way he’s looking at you, like a big cat eyeing up something that wandered into its enclosure, trying to decide whether it’s worth hunting. Suddenly, you are struck by the feeling that you have just done something very, very stupid.

Caleb

You meet Caleb while having the worst day of your life. A failing grade on your latest piece of coursework, your barely acceptable average hanging on by a thread, your best friend for over a decade seems to have decided you’re a poor relation to the new friends she’s made at her own college a city away and you have a rat problem your landlord is refusing to address. In some attempt to try to salvage things, you decide to treat yourself with a beverage from your favourite coffee shop. Do you really have the budget for it? No, but the thought of staying in your shitty rental for the rest of the day is too much to bear.

You go up to counter and order as usual, wincing a little when the number comes up on the till but tapping your card regardless, however it’s when you collect your drink and turn to find your usual seat in the corner that things go horribly wrong. Someone shoulder checks you, hard, and you manage to tip your drink all over yourself as you stagger backwards.

Time seems to freeze for a moment, you can feel the eyes on you, watching as the liquid drips down from your formerly white shirt. Looking down at the contents of your now nearly empty cup, something in you breaks. You start bawling—tears, snot, the works. The arsehole who ran into doesn’t even bother to stop as you burst into hysterics and everyone else seems content to just stare at you like you’re some kind of spectacle.

Then, you feel an arm around your shoulder, guiding you towards a quiet corner at the back of the store as someone takes the cup from your hands and presses a wad of napkins into them instead. You try to thank them through the tears, although you’re not sure anything intelligible comes out and the kind stranger just quietly hushes you in response. They get you to sit down and you look up to see an extremely handsome guy—you think you might have seen him around campus before, although you’re not sure—standing in front of you, blocking the view of you from the rest of the shop with his back.

He lets you cry it out for bit, disappearing only briefly after you’ve started to calm down and coming back with a duplicate of your drink order. That act of kindness is almost enough to make you start back up again, but then he asks what happened and you end up spilling your guts to him. It seems like bad manners to dump all your problems on a stranger, though once you’re done, you do feel more like a person and less like a total walking disaster. He introduces himself as Caleb and he is indeed at the same college as you, just a couple of years ahead. You thank him profusely for his help and try to give him some money for the drink but he waves it off, asking instead if he can borrow your phone quickly. Not seeing any reason to refuse—maybe his has run out of charge, you think—you hand it over and he steps away to make brief call before handing it back to you.

That encounter seems to serve as something of a turning point, as shortly after you say your goodbyes, you receive a message from your landlord promising the rat problem will be dealt with immediately. You also notice that Caleb :) has been added to your contacts list.

A/N: Fun fact, the building thing in Rafayel’s bit sounds made up but is inspired by a genuine set up at one of the Universities I’ve worked at where if you forgot your keycard after hours, you could literally get trapped in a courtyard with no way out other than trying to scale the buildings or calling security. This almost happened to me once and I lived in permanent fear of actually getting stuck out there, so I am passing my trauma onto Raf <3

[snoozer-crow]

🐦‍⬛ my thoughts won't leave me alone...... so i was thinking about how it would feel to be able to hide from it all in sylus's lap.

he wouldn't intrude or push you to tell him about the way your mind is tormenting you. he'd let you lie against him, knowing that his presence is enough to hold your thoughts at bay for a while. if you want silence, he gives you silence, steadily holding you to his chest with one hand as he reads or does tasks on his display with the other.

it would be so comforting to just have his company with no obligations whatsoever. he doesn't expect you to speak to him at all, and he won't be disappointed or bored if you don't. he's self-sufficient in that way and just greatly values having you physically present by his side. while he does appreciate your words and enjoys listening to you speak, he will never pressure you to do so.

he wouldn't mind staying with you like this for as long as you need him to. he might make you drink water or eat a bit of food if you've gone too long without it, but other than that, he won't disturb your peace. he's easily able to carry you with him wherever he goes, and he offers you little bits of affection when it seems like you need them most.

just having a space to rest and to hurt without being completely alone, a shoulder to rest your head against, a warm body to hold and be held by in equal measure. someone to wait out the ache with who won't try to push you to feel better too quickly. a little pocket of peace.

i think just having his solid presence against my cheek would give me a bit of a shield against all the cruel thoughts constantly battering against my meager defenses.

and maybe what would help the most is asking him a simple question: "sylus, am i a bad person?"

and he'd have a better response than anything i could come up with while i'm like this... but i'm sure that he'd kiss your tears away and hold you tight, making sure you believe him.

[snoozer-crow]

Hello mister snoozer crow aka the ruler of fluffy cuddle times I just wanted to say that I really like all of your works a lot especially the fluffy stuff - its such a lovely thing to be able to read all of your warm soft stories and I love the fact as well you like self aware stuff too! I don't really have much else to say aside from this but have a lovely day mr crow :3c

alfdjsjdfhsfdjl thank you so much!!!!! getting this ask made my day, i'm soso happy you enjoy reading my soft fics! i also enjoy writing them since doing so brings me comfort when things are tough!!! i'm very touch starved, and i think cuddling the lads men would instantly make everything feel so much better tbh!!!! i'd probably cry! (happy tears though!!)

the second part of my self aware story is almost done, i just have that last little push left and then i'll be able to share it!!! it's hurt/comfort but with heavier hurt than usual since it's a bit horror flavored 🙂‍↕️ i'm super excited to show it though!!!

i hope you have a lovely day too!!!! thank you again for the kind words nonnie! <3333

[snoozer-crow]

i just got a tamagotchi and im a little obsessed LOL,, caleb would definitely get jealous of that little thing. his eye twitches when you pull it out of your pocket or check it frequently. its like a pet but worse, because HE can't participate!!! at least if you got a dog or a cat he could pet the little guy too... i think eventually he would get one to play with you and have your tamas get married...!!! even if he holds a grudge.... LOL thinking about the big intimidating colonel forgetting to turn the sound off on his little virtual pet and it starts beeping when he plays it during a long long meeting.... poor caleb......... his ears would go so pink when everyone in the room turns to look at him </3

[snoozer-crow]

🐦‍⬛ i want sylus like this: wc: 550

you wake to a gentle hand on your shoulder, shaking you delicately to gain your attention, as if afraid of harming you. you ignore it, burying your face in your covers and hiding from the intrusive figure.

they're persistent, though, and they turn you over, keeping you from curling back up into your protective ball. you whine, but comply, seeing as the strength behind the hand was determined to keep you awake.

you crack your eyes open and are met with a pair of ruby-red ones staring back at you with concern. it's who you expected, though you're not disappointed. you're just tired.

you try to push his hand off your shoulder, and he moves it to cup your face instead, running his thumb underneath your eye socket. his eyes search yours, even though you can barely keep them open.

"sweetheart," sylus whispers, patient as always. you won't be able to push him away that easily, even if you'd do anything you could to go back to sleep right now. you've already wasted the whole day; what difference would it make to waste a little more?

he's more stubborn than you are, though. he taps your cheek when your eyes droop closed again, and you begrudgingly open them for him, knowing he's waiting for your attention. you don't want to waste his time.

"did you take your medication?" he asks, his voice still steady and calm. you shake your head no. he doesn't respond with frustration, simply nodding and pulling your pill organizer and a glass of water over with his evol.

he presses his hand to the center of your back, gently guiding you upwards, even though you whine in complaint. "i know, i know. just sit up for me and take these without choking, then we can take a nice, long break."

you begrudgingly comply, letting him feed you the pills a few at a time alongside sips of water. it doesn't take you long to finish them, and once you do, sylus rewards you with affectionate kisses all over your face. even if you try to complain a little, he knows you love them.

the pill container and glass are returned to their place with a swish of his evol, and he doesn't waste a second before climbing into bed beside you, smoothly pulling you into his secure, warm embrace as he does so.

by the time he's settled, you're all bundled up in his arms, enveloped in him in one of your favorite positions. chest to chest, his hand beneath your shirt to rub your back and press you just that little bit closer. you sniffle and nestle your head into the crook of his neck, hiding from his scrutinizing gaze. he lets you.

"i love you." his words are simple, yet they convey centuries worth of longing and adoration. "you can sleep all day if you'd like. just don't shut me out. let me sleep with you." his whispers brush against your shoulder as he presses a tender kiss there. "let me love you. that's all i ask, darling. let me remain in your life."

"okay," you whisper, and though your brain is foggy from sleep, you could swear he begins to purr. either way, your mind is soothed for the moment, and you drift back off to sleep, knowing you won't ever have to do so alone.

[snoozer-crow]

🐦‍⬛ recharging with sylus 🪫

wc: 720 gn reader, soft sylus, exhaustion, fluffy comfort!

Your day was exhausting. Too many people, too much noise, too much everything. You left feeling dizzy and strained, not even having the energy to text Sylus that you were coming over. You're sure he'll understand; he shows up to your apartment uninvited quite often, and you never complain. You stop by your place on the way to change into more comfortable clothing, then pull on your helmet and hop on the bike he gifted you.

Luckily, you manage to stay fully awake for the entire duration of your drive to Sylus's manor and park smoothly in his garage beside his favorite bike. You're sure he knows you're here by now; his security system is incredibly robust and likely identified your face on your way into his garage.

You scan your thumb on the reader, and the door unlocks with a happy-sounding chime and a little caw sound effect. You can't help but smile a little, remembering how you asked the twins to help you implement it, and how the two gleefully complied, offering to record his reaction as well.

The way his eyes widened with surprise and then softened with fondness as he chuckled still lives in your mind, the memory brightening your days. Part of you expected him to change it, but he never has. Your little project of adding small, cheery touches to his home has been going surprisingly well.

You rub your eyes as you make your way through his side door, toeing off your shoes in the entranceway and trudging forward. You check each room as you pass by, looking for signs of Sylus's presence. Empty, empty, empty… You eventually reach his study, and there he is.

He's in an ornate armchair, reading, with one of his favorite records playing in the background, filling the air with a gentle melody. You feel an incredible weight lifted from your shoulders just from breaching the threshold, causing your posture to relax and a yawn to escape your throat. It smells like him in here.

Sylus doesn't seem surprised to see you, merely placing his book aside and opening his arms in invitation with a smile. "You should have said something about coming to see me. I would've prepared you a drink."

You hum lowly in response, your brain far too scrambled to prepare anything coherent to say. You just take his invitation, crawling into his lap and nestling your head into his chest, curling into him. The day's tension melts from your frame, and from Sylus's as well. He lets out a soft sigh, pressing tender kisses to your hair and enveloping you in his embrace. He almost seems to be purring.

"Your presence is a lovely surprise, sweetie." He murmurs, pulling you closer, smothering you with affection. His kisses travel down to your neck, and he snuggles into you, the tip of his nose nuzzling into your soft skin, a smile curling his lips. "Long day? Hmm?"

You wrap your arms around his torso and whine. A quiet laugh rumbles through his chest, his hand sliding beneath your shirt to slowly stroke up and down your spine. "Alright, alright, no more teasing."

His chest is so warm beneath your cheek, his arms holding you close and insulating you from the harsh world outside. You're enveloped in a safe little bubble, free to let go without fear of judgment, free to recharge without having to rely on solitude. It's as if the universe is just the two of you, and you've never felt safer.

"Naptime?" he whispers, and you nod, cozy and drowsy, your mind fixating on the rhythm of his heartbeat and the vibration of his voice resonating through his chest. He hums, placing a kiss on your jawline. "Rest. You did well today. You should be proud."

At this, you open your eyes to look up at him, meeting his gaze. "Really?" you ask, something in your expression making him chuckle fondly.

"Yes, kitten, really. You know I don't offer empty praise." Your eyes start to water, causing Sylus's to soften tenderly. He shushes you, tucking your head back into his chest with his free hand and threading his fingers through your hair, soothing your tears.

"I'm proud of you. Never forget that. Rest well for me, sweetheart. I'll stay right here by your side."

[marrowridden]

You have a complex relationship with your body and need to keep some/all of your clothes on during sex?

That's okay, what you're wearing looks good on you.

You need to take a lot of breaks doing anything intimate because you're easily overwhelmed?

I understand, I'm just happy to be here with you.

You're on medication that impacts your libido/makes reaching orgasm really difficult?

No pressure, tell me what feels good for you, and if you get frustrated we can do something else together.

Sex isn't going to look the same for everybody and that's fine, that's normal.

Sometimes you don't orgasm, sometimes you need to stop because your mood changes out of nowhere, sometimes you get really self conscious and need accommodations to take your mind off of it.

People are too complex for everybody to go about it the same, just keep doing what feels best for you, regardless of how different it may seem from other people's experiences.

[snoozer-crow]

im gonna strangle him. im gonna put my hands around his neck and strangle him.

edit: i think he just really wanted the outfit..... LMAO

[snoozer-crow]

getting drunk enough during the early stages of your relationship with sylus that you lose your inhibitions and the guilt that's always restraining you. you call him out of the blue, begging him to come over. he arrives in less than 30 minutes, and you're quickly wrapped up in his embrace and cuddled close, just like you'd been wanting. whenever you start to feel anxious guilt for pushing him into coming over, he easily dispels your worries and steals your attention away from your negative thoughts. you go to sleep that night enveloped in him, feeling safe and warm and incredibly happy you asked him to join you.

[snoozer-crow]

❄️ i was getting boba w a friend and i was thinking about what it would be like getting boba with zayne,.... 🧋

he has your usual orders memorized, and you just need to give him a couple words and he'll know which one you want. if you offer to pay for your own drink or split the bill, he looks at you sideways, a bit incredulously. what are you talking about? have you gone mad? there's no way in hell he would ever let you pay for your own drink.

he orders in a clear voice, professional like always, specifying every detail so that the barista doesn't need to ask any questions. he always picks 100% sugar. he doesn't fumble with his card, and he always chooses the highest available tip option. he takes the receipt with the order number, too.

sitting beside him and waiting for the drinks to be done. you're both on your phones while you wait, but you're not neglecting each other. if you scroll past something you think he'll like, you bump him with your shoulder and show him your phone. if he's feeling indulgent, he'll give you a little huff of a laugh. if not, he'll look at you with raised eyebrows or sigh, which makes you giggle anyway.

or maybe you have a quiet conversation about whatever has been on your minds that day, hands casually entangled. maybe you play with his fingers or swing your joint hands back and forth playfully, and he never protests. if he makes a joke you think is funny, you press your forehead against his upper arm while you laugh. anyone looking at his face in that moment can clearly identify the fond expression he wears while gazing down at you, even though he's normally difficult to read.

when your drinks are ready, he guides you up to the counter with a gentle hand pressing to the small of your back, especially if you're a bit absentminded and need to be reminded. he always lets you try his drink if you want to, but just a few sips. he needs his sugar!! you can't take all of it :(

walking around a peaceful local park with him in comfortable, spring weather, sipping your drinks and pointing out birds to each other,,, you remember his favorites and he remembers yours!!! grinning up at him when you spot a bird taking a bath, and seeing a smile across his face too. ouhh sounds like heaven i think. i yearn..

[leaderincrows]

AVATAR CHANGE BC I CAN FINALLY PLANT THINGS

we got wild today folks

I'm waiting for mozzarella sticks to deliver to my house. What a time to be alive

[snoozer-crow]

when i get inspired and rb a writers post with more writing i feel like a puppy waiting at the doorrrr LMAOJSDF.... i keep checking my notifs like 'omg did they see it yet??!?! noo not yet.......... what about now??!! noooo not yettt....' and then when they do see it i get all excited hoping for praise im just a ouppy at heart