#feelin grumpy

[smanfa]

grumpy toko doodle cos i'm grumpy

[peachyykira]

too hot to be under the covers. too cold to be out of the covers. ☹️

[wensdaiambrose]

Woke up in a bad mood....

But I turned it around by making coffee, watering the house plants and cuddling with the cat.

[sesshy380]

Wordcount of the day: 764

Managed to finally start working on chapter 91 WiP. Also did a few edits to Monarch for flow and to fill in some small gaps that brain missed.

I really need to get that scene rewritten for Malik backstory, but brain keeps running into a wall. I can see the scene, but I have to figure out how to word all the little stuff to make the big stuff (if that makes any sense).

[emero0]

This screenshot my twin sent is SENDING me

Its so fucking funny anyway have another proseka meme + plain screenshot

Dibble (pink lil guy) is nene btw she watches kasa suffer /j

Prosekai text posts except its conversations I’ve had (well 2/3 of them—)

newest to oldest :P

Ive been waiting til i had enough of these so I could post them all together lol

[bisexualchrissycunningham]

I keep giving the romance genre more chances and I'm almost always underwhelmed. I actively tried to give one of my most hated tropes a try this time (enemies to lovers) and quel surprise.. I'm not loving it. The girl has no self respect, the guy is a judgy dick and almost all the side characters suck.

I wanna enjoy romance so bad and I don't know why I can't just accept defeat.

[nerdie-faerie]

The fact that sleep is supposed to be restorative yet I can wake up with a headache feels like a joke

[assigned-marcille-at-breakfast]

I love driving two hours for work and then sitting in an empty room alone for 7 hours straight because I'm essentially just the "in case of emergency" person on staff so I just. Sit there. Doing nothing. With literally Nobody to interact with. For 7 hours. For minimum wage too lol. I'm the "I handle all your emergencies so you don't have to" person for minimum wage. And then come home so late that everyone is already going home or going to sleep so I don't even get to hang out with or see my friends. Just. Miss my friends. Ugh.

[whatthebodygraspsnot]

ian and mickey mature and make peace with the fact that their respective mental illnesses/emotional intelligence fucks with their body awareness sometimes. it's just a thing they're working on. but they do it together - using that knowledge to help the other person when they're going through it.

mickey will crash on the couch next to him, slumping and mumbling "feel like dogshit," and ian will do a little cursory glance before asking it.

"you know what kind?"

"uh uh. just feel bad."

and then it's like clockwork. they go through it enough that they might as well get a book bound and place it on their mantle to refer to. if they weren't so good at it already, that is. "body bad, or brain bad?"

mickey takes a second to himself. silent and unhappy. then, "body."

"yeah? feelin' sick?"

a shake of his head, but then a grimace. like that was too much movement. "head hurts."

something ian can work with. he scoots closer to his husband on the couch, experimenting with a little brush of his fingers over the back of his neck. "don't think i've seen you drink today..."

"just had a beer."

ian huffs a little laugh. "meant water, mick..." the fact that mickey moves closer to him is a good sign too. "your lower back hurt?"

another self-assessment. then, with heavy, suspicious eyes that peer over at him, "how the hell you know that...?"

ian grins softly. bingo. "s'your kidneys." an easy fix this time around. "you're dehydrated, baby."

"mm."

"and grumpy." but water will probably fix that too.

ian gives the back of his neck a little squeeze and then grabs him a glass of water from the kitchen, dumping a Liquid-IV into it (just the lemon-lime one - the only one mickey tolerates)

he loves an easy fix. they aren't always this way. but even when they aren't - even when it's him on the other side, they always get through it together.

[plushish]

Resisting Temptation | Adam x Drunk!Reader

summary — In which Adam brings you home after a night out and manages not to be a complete degenerate, despite being tempted to when you start to drunkenly masturbate in front of him.

content — 1,744 words, fem reader, fem pronouns, smut, pre-established friendship (you're like best friends), masturbation, exhibitionism, some pining

a/n — my first story on here! wow!!!!! warning for drunken flirting, i guess slight dubcon? though adam is drunk too. also reader is kinda lute-coded

SMUT AHEAD !

“I had no idea you were such a fuckin’ lightweight,” Adam laughs boisterously, with you sprawled in his bed with eyes you can barely keep open, warmth burning through your every limb. The sensation wasn’t entirely uncomfortable, just overwhelming coupled with all the other shit going on with your other senses. At least you were somewhere comfortable instead of on the cold tiles of the club’s bathroom floor, which was where he’d found you after you disappeared for thirty minutes. You’d take the smell of his sweaty sheets over the stained, cold tiles any day.

You were familiar with this space, having come here many times prior to. Whether it was for a house party, a jam session, or just to crash for a bit, you’d been in this very spot on his bed too many times to not be comfortable here.

“I can’t take your shit right now, just shut up for a bit, please.“ You slur out, earning a grumpy mumble from him, something along the lines of ‘don’t tell me to fucking shut up’. You were more concerned about the unbearable temperature in your face and your core, lazily lifting your shirt up your midriff to try and remedy some of it.

“Whoa, feelin’ hot are we? Tryna show me something?”

Your intentions were certainly not to make yourself appealing to the man in the room with you. Adam was just like that. He would get excited over a woman bending over to tie her shoe. It wasn’t that you were suddenly attracted to him– but something about him misinterpreting your action coupled with the way his voice, intoxicated with a sensual undertone and a hint of his sleazy charm, flicked the switch in your brain soaked with alcohol. “Yeah, it’s too hot,” you breathe with a sudden intensity. “Need it off.”

After a night of warm bodies near yours and some appetitive dancing, you had some lasting energy pent up– and whatever sort of restraint that normally keeps you from your deepest impulses is turned off at that moment. You spread your thighs and begin to tug down your bottoms.

Adam’s face heats up slightly, but for once, he stays quiet on his side of the room. Changes into something more comfortable and just watches as you toss your pants and underwear to a miscellaneous pile of his laundry in the corner.

In Adam’s bed, you feel right at home. Though it’s not something either of you have ever brought up or discussed, there is nothing that strikes you as particularly odd about stripping down in front of him to start touching yourself.

“...Cute,” He chuckles softly, sitting in his lounge chair. Getting lost in his own drunken haze, he drops his chin in his hand to watch with half-lidded eyes as you drunkenly spread yourself open.

“ ‘m not cute… I’m sexy,” You playfully correct him, rum on your lips. Though his breath smells of alcohol too, it’s much more prevalent on you, floating in the air around you. Suddenly feeling a little hot himself, he makes his way to his en suite bathroom, where he fills a glass with some water. You were way too far gone. He was too.

Adam makes his way back to your side of the bed. “Sit up, bitch,” he instructs crudely, but you obey. Standing right next to you, he tries not to pay your ministrations any mind, but still listens to the slick sound of it with a flush in his face.

Adam brings the cup to your lips with a little bit of annoyance as you sway from side to side, making him spill some down your chin along the way with a groan, a ‘fuckin’ damnit [Name]’, and an impatient sigh. Despite this, you drink obediently, wrapping your other hand around Adam’s to hold the glass in place, which only makes its contents slosh around more thanks to your disoriented movements.

“Holy fuck, slow down dude,” He complains as you chug wildly, still clumsily going at your own cunt with your other hand.

When he pulls the glass away from your mouth, you inhale sharply and deeply as you catch your breath from your unrestrained drinking.

“Don’t wanna,” you say breathlessly, a rivulet of water dripping down the corner of your lip. He stares, takes in the shine on your moistened lips in the dimly lit room. “Feels too good.”

Your tone is uncharacteristically seductive. He’s never seen you like this before. Adam sets the glass on a nightstand and sits on the bed next to you, your backs both against the headboard, same like how he does when you come over to binge shows and rot in bed with him for hours, sometimes days at a time.

“Really can’t stop?” He asks, a little irritated by the fact you’re bringing it up, making the awkwardness of trying to veer his attention away even more challenging.

“Yeah,” you hum, eyes closed. “Needed this so bad.”

He can’t keep himself from taking a glance– your shirt furled up, showing the expanse of skin there, a hand over your drooling cunt. Inches away from him.

“Hey, [Name],” he says in a serious but equally sultry tone all of a sudden.

“Yeeeaaah?” You sing-song.

“You’re really sexy.”

“You think so?”

“Yeah, you’re such a little doll. Fuckin’ cute,” He praises uncharacteristically, now stroking your hair with a gentleness you had scarcely ever seen from him before. Definitely the alcohol. He watches the way your lips form a lazy drunken smile, blissed out from your own touching. You watch his droopy eyes stare at you with some sort of intensity that you can’t quite read through your inebriated lens, but in your mind, you equate it with the same douchebag look you’ve seen in most other shitty men when they want sex.

“We have to fuck,” you suddenly blurt out.

His eyes widen into saucers.

Why now?

“Do we?” Adam asks casually, a little flippantly, as if he wasn’t completely stoked on the idea. Grinning slyly as if he hasn’t already suggested that a hundred times before, acting coy as if you hadn’t ignored his sexual advances for as long as he’s known you.

You nod very seriously while hopelessly trying to achieve more stimulation through your disoriented touching, your lower half raising off the mattress for a moment.

“Gonna have to turn that one down, babe,” he replies cooly, and in his mind, he pats himself on the back for actually turning down sex with you. “I’ll keep you in mind for next time though, ‘kay?”

You groan at his arrogance. “You’re unreal,” you spit, “so fucking annoying…” slurring and mumbling to yourself about something incoherent, and he snorts as he hears you ramble on, something under your breath about ‘blue balls’.

He’d be lying if he said his dick wasn’t achingly hard in his pants, but he won’t take advantage of you. This isn’t how he hoped it would happen, as loath as he is to admit to himself something as emotionally vulnerable as that. Maybe a little selfish.

He was definitely storing mental pictures and notes away for his own personal use later, but for now, he’s fine with just petting your head while you fuck yourself on your fingers.

“You’re just afraid you wouldn’t be able to handle me.” You say suddenly.

God. Fuck. He’s used to this type of behaviour from you, but not within a context like this. This is a real trial. It takes almost everything in him not to verbally challenge you back, so many possible sleazy responses he could give you. He’s no stranger to setting a mood. So many ways to provoke or tease you.

But he doesn’t, instead opting to ignore you with a grumbled and nonchalant “Yeah, okay, whatever” as he reaches for the remote to flick on the TV. Actions speak louder than words or whatever. Part of him hopes you’ll remember this later.

You scoff, too drunk and too enveloped in your own stimulation to care. You had other things to tend to.

He manages to veer his attention after that, his head turned to where his screen displays a rerun of some 4 AM cartoon. He tries to focus on the bouncing characters rather than what’s tempting him on the other edge of the bed.

A dull sight compared to you, naked from the waist down and still rubbing your cunt, a little slower now, distracted by the TV. Just next to him, fingers pressed against where your blood is swollen and sensitive. You spread yourself and feel how wet you are. Adam can hear the drooling sound of it so clearly, somehow tasteful to him, like light rainfall over a pond or a bathing suit dripping into a tub; sleepy summer sounds.

“Can you just rub your dick against my clit a little?” You ask, moving your fingers as if to give illustration of the idea, so swollen.

“Show me how you like to do it,” Adam proposes instead. “what gets you off best.”

You lean into him, letting out a pleased hum. In his own drunken haze though, he can’t help himself from it when he presses sloppy wet kisses along your shoulder, your neck, your swollen lips that taste so strongly of alcohol. You accept the kisses plainly while your fingers slot against your clit, pinching lightly. You moan breathily, hot against his lips.

God, you’re too fucking precious. He wants to be inside you so badly. He fuckin’ would be, if he were just a little bit worse of a person, if he happened to not give a fuck about you, if you weren’t already gasping and cumming, leaking onto the sheets of his bed.

“Good girl. Bet your pussy feels better now, huh?”

“Yeah...” You say with a yawn, the aftertaste of your orgasm already beckoning your body to rest.

“Get to sleep. You’ll need rest when I make you regret putting all this shit on me tomorrow.”

“Hey, Adam…”

“‘Sup?” He asks with that signature douchey indifference.

You scoot forward, tucking your head under his jaw. Lean into his neck and breathe against the pulse there.

Are you going to say it…?

“I’ve gotta piss,” you slur out. “and puke a little, probably.”

Adam deflates with disappointment.

“I fuckin’ hate you,” He sighs in defeat, before tossing the blankets back off of you and slipping a hand under your legs to carry you.

i didnt proofread this cuz ive read it a thousand times already but anyway let me know if u see any spelling mistakes at all, before someone else gets the chance to see them cuz that would be embarrassing and i'd have to boil myself alive

[princessbrunette]

linecook!jj with a bartender!kitty!reader

the way the flirting would be so crazy, no one would ever know if they were serious or not until one day they both come out of the supply closet with disheveled clothes and bartender! reader is covered in hickies and she has the biggest dazed look in her eyes omg. jj’s just so cocky about the whole thing, he’s happy the rest of his shift and all.

there’s something so hot about jj being so loud n charismatic, practically running that place because the managers are always slacking off n you’re his fav bartender but no one knows why ?? you’re grumpy, pouty, and quiet — everything a bartender isn’t supposed to be ??

he’s usually in the kitchen but he finds himself out on the restaurant floor too when you’re short staffed, the blonde spotting you rolling your eyes at the bar n swooping past with a “be nice.”, swatting you with his dish rag to get u to fix up .

sometimes it takes more than words though, which is why he ends up dragging you to the supply closet to fix that attitude with his dick !! hoisting you up and pounding into you, filling your ears with praise so you leave the bad mood behind n spend the rest of the shift serving customers with a dazed smile. you drop the occasional glass, brain all fuzzy but this was better than sulking !!

he comes out on his break to check on you, sliding behind the bar to come up behind you n squeeze your waist. “how we feelin’ now, sour puss?” knowing damn well he’s knocked that bad attitude far away for the night !!!!

[mishoarts]

Few differents between Canvas and Original :[What we know so far]

1-Bus graveyard gang were a little older (16)

*Aiden had a rented van to drive,

2-

Ashlyn's parents weren't military, they worked in a family friend's restaurant.

--Ashlyn used to work as a dancer on Saturdays ( she's still under the age but the owner allowed her because he knows how much she likes dancing, as long as she covers her face )

3- Ash's parents design 

(Mike fans how you feelin rn )

4-Ashlyn

Ashlyn was more like an introvert who hates socializing than someone who just doesn't like people(and kinda a little shy lol)

However, she still had that "done with everything" energy ✨

5- Witch Curse

In canvas, the curse didn't start with the sorrel weed house, it's originally from a trap in the witch house 1642 

*there wasn't a tour guide (no jasmine) they went in all by themselves

And unlike O. Ashlyn hearing phantom noises since childhood, C. Ash started hearing them in the witch house -(and got possessed immediately)-

6- Colored speech-bubbles:

Ashlyn > green

Aiden  > yellow 

Tyler  > brown 

Taylor  > orange 

Logan > blue 

7-Aiden :

Instead of our lovely cupcake we have in Original, Canvas Aiden was known as the crazy psycho of the school who no one dares to get near him (except Ben ofc), -- like a suspicious evil weirdo --

BUT the funny thing is that C.Aiden fears hights while O. Aiden is suic/idal careless who likes jumping (lmao)

8- Teacher

Instead of Thomas, it was a normal kind teacher called Mr.T, who tried to push Ashlyn to socialize.

9- T twins

-changed race, 

Tyler's personality was a little different ( less grumpy)

Sadly, the available Canvas chapters ended at this panel before the website moves to Original, so that's all what I know (if you know anything else tell)

END OF WHATEVER THIS WAS, THANKS FOR READING 🩵🫡

[ All Canvas credits to Red ]

____________________

I had to make this so you can have some background information before I post random translated panels.

In case you don't know where I got these, there're 9 chapters from canvas translated to Arabic on some unofficial website.

Some panels have a weird font type, that's just my hand writing I didn't have that time to edit them 🗿🤚🏻

__[ This took me too long to make pls like 🫠]__

[pretty-little-mind33]

Tangerine x fem!reader

Summary: You hurt yourself with Tangerine's brass knuckles.

Prompt: grumpy x sunshine - "I told you not to touch that, now look what you've done!"

~ here you go @whimsical-roasting! hope you like this!! thank you for requesting 💖 ~

TANGERINE MASTERLIST

BLURB MASTERLIST

Tangerine had told you a thousand times not to touch his brass knuckles. He didn't want you using them and hurting yourself because he knows you don't know how to use them correctly.

However, especially three wine glasses in, you never did listen to him on important matters.

You're sitting in your living room fiddling with the brass knuckles Tangerine had been showing you as he left for a refill on the wine you'd been comfortably sharing.

You throw some air punches, scrunching your face as best as you like you've seen your boyfriend do when he's training, and on rarer occasions when he's fighting.

It's fun. Very fun. Or it is until you get the marvelous idea to try and punch solid things. 

You start lightly, punching the cushions. Then you move to harder surfaces until, for some stupid reason, you decide to see how hard you can punch the wall. 

Horrible idea considering you dent the drywall and your wrist bends awkwardly, the brass knuckles digging into your skin.

You shriek and pull your hand away, the knuckles feeling weirdly stuck onto your hand now as the pain becomes unbearable. Tears pool in your eyes and you stand up just as Tangerine walks into the room again.

"Darlin'?"

"Tan–" you wail and rush to him, cradling your wrist as you stumble over in your slippers and hold out your arm to him. Silent tears are falling down your cheeks as the pain worsens.

Tangerine's eyes widen and he rushes forward to you, carefully lifting your arm. His eyes narrow when he sees his brass knuckles on your hand and how weirdly bent your hand looks. 

"You absolute git," he hisses and uses his other hand to pet your hair, "I told you not to touch that, now look what you've done," he says and kisses your forehead, his heart breaking at the sight of your tears.

"How badly does it hurt, my luv?"

"Very badly," you can barely speak and Tangerine knows it's worse than it looks. So, he calls an ambulance because he doesn't trust himself to drive you after three glasses of wine and with you in this state.

He tries his best to be calm and make up an excuse to the poor paramedics why you'd almost broken your hand, his illegal brass knuckles safely in his locked drawer again.

He should have never shown them to you. He feels irresponsible. 

Tangerine angry at you, but mostly at himself because you're too good. You're an angel who shouldn't have even been exposed to such a weapon and that's on him. He sits in the chair in the doctor's room, watching the doctor bandage your hand and tell you you're lucky it's only sprained and not broken.

They've given you some pain medication and when the doctor steps out for a moment, you look over at your very guilty-looking boyfriend. 

"I'm sorry," you start.

"I shouldn't have left them alone with you," he interrupts in a whisper. 

You shake your head pointedly. "No. I'm not a child. I should have known better and listened to you. I was just curious."

Tangerine chuckles and runs a hand over his face. "I know ya were and that's why I should have been more careful. Should have been paying closer attention to my girl, hm?" he stands and walks closer, holding your cheek in his hand as he smiles. "Feelin' better now?"

You nod and some of your cheek returns because you ask. "Teach me how to use them next time?"

Hearing your quip, Tangerine raises an eyebrow and makes a tsk sound with his lips, shaking his head. "You're really gonna be the death of me, aren't ya?"

Your little laugh gives him all the answers he needs and he smirks, feigning annoyance when really he adores you.

tags: @tansgirlfriend, @brokeaesthetic, @earth-elemental18, @lqrlei, @princesssunderworld, @longlivedelusion

[found--family]

angel

*as in, once they officially establish a relationship

[thecherrytarot]

𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮.

what does your future spouse love the most about you?

pile 1 → pile 2 → pile 3

Pick the photo you feel the most drawn to and please remember that this is just a general reading so you might not relate to everything that is written, take what resonates.

listen to: die for you by The Weeknd

𝐏𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝟏:

"it's hard for me to communicate the thoughts that i hold, but tonight, i'm gon' let you know, let me tell the truth, baby, let me tell the truth, yeah"

They love how you are the 'lightness' to their 'darkness'. They like how you guide them through the dark paths of life. They love how you can touch their heart so easily because others found it difficult. With you, they feel like fixing everything in their life because they want to be better for you and with you. They may struggle with being emotional but for you? they're ready to provide you with emotional security. The crescent moon phase might be important for some of you (you/they could have been born on a crescent moon night or yall have your first meet/date under that moon) They love how you got them out of their comfort zone and made them let go of their fear of the unknown (it's giving sunshine x grumpy vibes but yall are both) They love you through all of your transformations and are proud of you for always trying to be your best self, it is inspiring to them. They also love how you show yourself to them, little by little and give them time to appreciate every version of you. They love how you are the answer to their manifestations. Due to this, they might even call you an 'angel' because the divine sent you to them.

𝐏𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝟐:

"i don't want this feelin', i can't afford love. i try to find a reason to pull us apart, it ain't workin', 'cause you're perfect, and i know that you're worth it, i can't walk away, oh"

They love how you always stand tall, no matter how many times you fall down. They love the way you talk, and the way you phrase your sentences and say the right things at the right time. They love how you don't try hard or change yourself to fit into the standards of the society and instead focus on yourself for yourself. It felt like such a foreign concept to them and I can hear them tell me, "What do you mean they don't care about what others think about them? there are people like this? Where can I meet them? because I want to be like them" They might look up to you because they find it so fascinating that you are so courageous to not care about the stares and the comments and continue to be yourself (your FS might be a people pleaser). Some of you may know a lot of people and talk to them but still manage to keep your personal life ~mysterious~ and they love how reserved you are and only tell people what you want them to know (i feel like along with people pleaser they are an oversharer) They love how strong you are with your principles and boundaries and how you do not let people walk over you. They also love how you can find a balance and know when to set your emotions aside to make a decision.

𝐏𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝟑:

"the distance and the time between us, it'll never change my mind 'cause baby, i would die for you, baby, i would die for you, yeah"

They love your thighs like it is not something 18 plus (i mean it is a little bit but it is more domestic!!!) They love laying their head down in between your thighs, listening to Cigarettes After Sex (or even The Weeknd) and when you start playing with their hair, they look up to you and you are already looking at them with such pretty eyes, they are a goner because they feel so loved and wanted, they feel like you complete them. When i was meditating they told me that they think that stars shine in your eyes and they shine only for them and how they secretly love it when you call them 'a simp'. For some of you, you could be a foreigner, or for some, you could be childhood friends but one of you moved to a different place and you both might have been in a long-distance relationship for some time but still, they love how you both stayed together despite all the problems, especially when people around you told you that it might not work out and you should just give up. They love how you trusted your 'red string of fate' bond with them and not the background noise.

Thank you so much for reading!

[janitorhutcherson]

I love your writing, please please give the world Mike comforting his partner on their period 🙏🏻 that man would be so compassionate but also confused and asking tons of questions so he can explain it to Abby when she’s older

okay so, i'm about to start my period. i can sense it, i'm cramping, i'm going insane, so here is some mike fluff!! i need this, y'all need this, we all need this rn. this isn't great, last min as always :p i promise one day i'll give yall something more quality lol. also am sorry if this isn't exactly what u were lookin' for!! i hope u enjoy :P

word count: 1,298

warnings: mentions of blood (period), swearing

summary: mike takes care of you while you're on your period. completely unaware to how it all works, he does the best he can, trying to educate himself in the process.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

You were in pain. That was one thing you knew for sure. For the past two days, your insides had felt like Satan himself was ripping them out, tearing each part of your uterus into tiny, itty bitty pieces, perhaps even doing a little happy dance on them. As your body was stretched out on the couch, your hand gripping your abdomen, you felt like your life was flashing before your eyes. You'd called off work, waking up feeling worse than you had during that time of the month in a while. You couldn't picture yourself doing much of anything but laying on the couch in the living room of your boyfriend, Mike, and his little sister, Abby, who was much like your own. You'd slept over the night before, opting to stay there as you felt much more comfortable.

Once a month, you became queen bitch, completely insufferable to be around. You were grumpy, sick, nauseous, and aching. You couldn't help it. Your cramps were always amplified more than the average person. Your pain tolerance seemed to get weaker when the time came. With that being said, everyone around you had to suffer the consequences. You and Mike had only been together a few months. Every month, he'd get a little bit better about handling it. The first month, he was slightly standoffish, not sure if his assistance would make things worse or if it would help you. He'd offer you pain medicine, get you water when you needed it, and fetch the heating pad when you cried out in pain. He was always sympathetic, helpless in his inability to make your pain disappear. Mike loved you, and the last thing he wanted was for you to ache the way that you did.

In the following two months, he'd gotten more adventurous, even offering to go out and buy your preferred pads and tampons. Even though he brought back the wrong thing the first time (he brought back the preteen pads, which would not be helpful to your heavy flow), he was sure to correct it the next. With his learning curve coming to an end, Mike was much better with his assistance. Right as your eyes began to flutter closed, the front door to Mike's door flung open, an exhausted Mike walking through, his hair messy and his skin somewhat pale due to his lack of sleep. Although he was working normal human hours now after getting a regular job, the adjustment period was difficult. He somehow felt even more sleep-deprived than before. You slowly sat up, a confused look on your face as you glanced over at the time. It was only noon, which didn't make sense. Mike typically wouldn't be home until around 5:30pm.

"Mike?" you questioned, your voice laced with pain as your head cocked to the side.

"Yeah, baby?" he questioned back, placing three plastic bags from the store onto the coffee table in front of you. He sat beside you on the couch, moving your legs to lay across his lap. He tenderly reached his hand across you, his warm palm slipping under your shirt to touch your aching stomach. He rubbed slow and gentle circles on the tender area, a sigh of relief leaving your lips as it somewhat relieved the pain. "You feelin' any better?" he spoke softly, his tone dripping with sympathy and worry.

"Why are you home? What's in the bags?" You were confused. You didn't mean to sound like a bitch, but the pain was making you somewhat delirious, and the thought of him simply coming home early just didn't occur to you. He chuckled, shaking his head as he playfully rolled his eyes.

"Can you not just let me take care of you for once?" he grumbled, grabbing the plastic bags from the table and placing them gently into your laps. In the first bag, he pulled out a brand new pain reliever bottle and miniature heating pads. They were wireless and single-use. You could stick them into your pants and wear them around wherever you needed. He also pulled out a new bubble bath, lavender scented, that claimed to have infused pain-relieving essential oils. The next bag contained your favorite kind of chocolate, some other kinds of candy, and a little stuffed bear. The bear wasn't any bear, but one that could be heated up and again used as a heating pad. Inside of the same bag, he also pulled out a brand new box of the right kind of tampons and a bouquet of flowers. The last bag contained burgers and fries from your favorite fast-food place, something yummy to get into your aching system.

You watched in awe as he pulled out each item, a sheepish but proud grin spread across his face as he did so. He was proud of himself, mostly because he felt useful, he felt like for once he was the one taking care of you. Mike typically felt like a burden, like he wasn't worth caring for, regardless of how much you attempted to convince him otherwise. Times like these were important to him, times when he could make you feel safe, secure, loved.

"I, uh, heard you this morning. I realized you were in a lot of pain, wanted to do something nice. I took the day off of work, thought I'd surprise you with some stuff to make you feel good. Got us some lunch too, thought maybe we could go lay down in the bed and watch movies, eat some junk together? I'll take real good care of you," he said, scratching at the back of his neck with a hopeful grin. You looked back at him with your own wide grin, the churning cramps in your stomach not subsiding but instead simply not your main focus at the moment. You nodded your head, leaning forward and pressing a soft kiss to his lips.

You helped him carry the brand-new goods and the food to the bedroom. You plopped down onto the bed as Mike leaned over you, gently kissing your head. He tucked you into the blankets, ensuring you were nice and warm. He closed the curtains tightly, all too aware of the vision-blurring headaches you got on your period. He put up one finger to signal he'd be right back. Once he returned, he had a glass of water and heated up your brand-new heating pad bear. He placed your wired heating pad onto the small of your back, pressing two kisses to your forehead again. He then insisted you lift your head, helping you to swallow the pills. After, Mike cuddled up next to you in bed.

The two of you watched random movies and TV shows for the rest of the day, his hand seldom leaving your stomach. He constantly had you wrapped up near him. He kept you medicated and fed, refusing to leave your side. Mike was content. Even though you were a bitch during this time, you were appreciative. He loved you and it was clear, he'd do anything to take care of you.

While deep into the show you were watching, you felt a pair of eyes staring into the side of your head. You lifted your head, looking over to Mike with a cocked eyebrow. "Yes..?" you questioned, staring at his somewhat nervous expression.

"Um, do you think, you could maybe explain periods to me? Y'know, all of it, the bloody stuff, the moody stuff.. I just.. wanna be prepared for Abby," he asked sheepishly. A chuckle left your lips as you shook your head.

"Of course, Mikey. I can explain it to you," you hummed, pressing a kiss to his lips before you went into detail, explaining female anatomy to your 25-year-old boyfriend.