#so I was a bit cranky and tired and I just wanted to finish so that's why the bg is so *vague gesturing*

[kcalsforhim]

𓏲.ೃ࿔❀˙˖ ｡ monday 6 jan 2025

༄.°

i took 0 cool pictures so these again i guess ! but swapped so the thumbnail is different idfk

i woke up feeling alright at like 12 pm… got up and cleaned my room entirely.. clean desk, clean vanity thing, put clothes in laundry, put clean clothes away, clean bed, arrange cute decorations in my room… good cleaning !

then i went on my walking pad for maybe 30 mins

then mom got home and i don’t know we talked for a bit and i got ready to go outside. i put on sweatpants and my jacket and called it a day. which is likely what all of my outfits will be cause i wont have the energy for more eheh…

i first went to the big shopping centre where i bought protein bars and diet coca colaaa and 1 cucumber. when i went out of the store i got harassed by a salesman for like 5 mins before i ran away cause i got scared lollllll

then i went to the drugstore and .. took ;; some makeup. one eyeliner 3 concealers 2 mascaras and 1 eyeshadow compact <3

then i went to a different store to get coconut coca cola

then i walked homeeee zoned out and tired but oh well. walked to my friends house to pick up some money she owed me but girlie wasn’t home so i just went to my house. when i got home i was a bit cranky but its fine guys… i grabbed some cucumbers and mac and cheese my mom made and went upstairs

i didn’t eat the mac and cheese, because i don’t want to eat more food than i need and get super fat and obese

omad ;

pocket protein raspberry cheesecake flavour ; 55g — 200 cal — cucumbers ; 140g — 20 cal

total ; 220 cal

aren’t these pics so mealspo ? i love these LOLLLL here’s a look at the bar itself, it has a sort of white chocolatey outside ? maybe yogurty ? it had this thin unnoticeable layer of jam and the texture was quite nice and usual ! my cucumbers were nice and crispy

2 x coca cola light ; 250ml — 1 cal

1 x coca cola oreo ; 250ml — 1 cal

1 x jumbo cola coconut 250ml - 1 cal

total ; 3 cal

these soda cans were like, throughout the night, but i can’t remember in which order i had them guys LMAO u can tell by the difference in lighting

after eating it i felt pretty good. i didn’t necessarily want more and i didn’t feel super full which was nice. i watched like 2 entire youtube vids before i finished my food !! i was watching with eli and i love watching the faces she makes since we the past week have been listening to true crime or other stuff like that

then i went downstairs to get my hair dyed… its kinda blue now.. so cool ! my favourite shade… lowkey considering just dyeing my hair every month cause i always let it get grimy and brown… when dying my hair my mom said it looked awefully thin.. aha…

then i washed it all nice and intense and i got myself ready for bed. i drew till 10 pm exactly then took 5 sleeping pills, took a while for them to kick in, i was rendering water by hand. then around midnight i was out cold. a nice day !!!!

i like listening to slavic songs when it’s very cold out <3

𓏲.ೃ࿔❀˙˖ ｡ stats for today

total cals : 223

steps : 14.9 k

streak : 1 day binge free

today was a gooood day stats wise, and i know it’ll stay good like that for a while. physically i know it’ll hurt, but staying in this gross disgusting body is worse <3

༄.°

[juustozzi]

So much would never again be the same.

y'know, theres this one fic, called A Little More Like Hell, that's been living in my head for a while... so I had to draw my fav scene so far!

[jyoongim]

Alastor who’s pretty little wife no one knows about shows up to the hotel with his lunch for something that her and Rosie took so long to prepare. She’s a bit taller than Alastor and completely mothers him it seems- idk just thought it was cute

Charlie beamed as she opened the door, but her eyes widened “ Woah! O-Oh hello! Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel! Are you looking to be redeemed from your sins?”

You tilted your head in confusion.

”No. I’m here to drop off Alastor’s lunch”

Now the Princess gave you a confused look.

You were here for Alastor?

”May I come in dear?” She widened the door to let you in and ushered you into the hotel lobby.

Your husband had said he had a new venture he was invested in. What a lovely hotel.

The Princess showed you around a bit and talked about the purpose of the hotel.

”And this is our enthusiastic bartender” she gestured to the bar

Husker’s eyes widened when he saw you before he tilted his hat at you “Madam”

You smiled “Husker! I didn’t know you were here. Alastor ain’t workin you to the bone is he?”

Charlie looked between you “you two know each other?”

You let out laugh, waving your hand dismissively “oooh we go way back” you took a seat on a sofa.

You chatted with Husker and waved as Niffty greeted you before she ran after a bug.

”Woah who’s the glass of water?” A flirty voice said,making you turn and see a tall spider stroll into the room.

Everyone was curious about the tall demoness.

You checked the clock “Not to be rude but is Alastor here?”

That made several faces gawk.

Why were you looking for the Overlord?

”I heard senseless chatter do we have a guest?” A radio-filtered voice floated into the room.

Alastor eyes flitted over the room and they landed on you, his usual smile stretched wide across his face

”Dearest! What do I owe the pleasure? You should have gave me a rang” You grinned as you stood and approached the demon.

Everyone watched in disbelief as the tall woman towered over the Overlord and snatched him in a hug, squeezing him in her arms.

”Alastor!” You squealed, nuzzling the demon who just had a loving look on his face.

You set him down and finally a scowl graced your face, you pointed your finger at your husband, disapprovingly.

”You left so fast I didn’t get a chance you give you these”

You pulled a container from your bag.

Alastor hummed as he opened it, ears flicking happily at the meat sandwiches. You beamed proudly “Me and Rosie spent all day on those and you didn’t even get a chance to taste them. I made sure to drizzle extra blood on yours dear”

”I will never understand how I was lucky to have you dear” he said, dipping his finger in the sauce and tasting it.

”A token of appreciation would be nice” you chirped, leaning down towards the demon, turning your cheek.

Alastor pressed a kiss to your cheek.

Yeah everyone was flabbergasted.

Charlie cleared her throat, looking between the two of you “h-how do you two know each other?” She asked nervously.

You blinked in confusion, before you smiled “I’m his wife of course”

WHAT??!!!

You ignored their stares and turned back to your husband, looking him over.

Your clawed hands grasped his face, turning it, examining him. Your brows frowned “You’re looking thin baby. And pale. Dont overwork yourself and for the love of the all that’s damned please take a rest when you need it. No broadcasting all night. I know you, you’ll be cranky and tormenting souls because you’re tired. Oh! I have tea for your throat too” you happily pulled out tea packs and tucking them in his pockets.

Alastor just let you fret, loving the attention.

Once you finished being a  worrywart, you gave him one last hug.

”well i ought to get going. I promised Rosie I wouldnt be long. I just wanted to drop your lunch off.”

You pressed a kiss to his forehead, waved to everyone, and let Alastor walk you out.

Alastor sighed lovingly as you disappeared in a mist of shadow, once you were gone he went back inside the hotel, where everyone was still gawking

His eyes narrowed “what is it?”

Angel was the first, along with Charlie to literally combust with questions

”You have a wife!?”

”Why don’t you every bring her here?”

”Can’t believe you actually fuck”

”she seems so lovely”

”how the hell or really why the hell she marry you?”

”You should invite her over more!”

”How do you two fuck?”

Alastor’s eye twitch and he turned around to walk out as he carried the lunch you brought with him, ignoring the two.

Angel turned to Husker and smirked “They have kinky sex don’t they?”

Husk flicked him off with a eye roll

”Ill take that as a yes”

[cupidscorpsee]

You Missed the Damn Line

WC - 5,642 / 21 minute read

Warnings - Smut / 18+ content throughout / feminine terms used for reader

A/N: i’m ashamed of myself 0_0

In which you, an actress, are due for a sex scene with Hugh Jackman, but he has a better idea.

You tried your best, you really did, but they were simply not buying it.

“Cut!” the director yelled, letting out a frustrated sigh as he walked up to the two actors on set. “What the fuck was that, L/N?”

You laughed awkwardly despite the director’s clear irritation. “You’re kidding. You’re making this impossible.”

Hugh sits up, careful not to ruin his carefully-messed up hair. He nodded in agreement. “Nothing’s good enough for you, mate.”

“Nothing’s good—” He scoffs, cutting himself off before he could finish mocking Hugh. “It’ll be good enough when you two get your shit together and shoot a good fucking sex scene.”

The director walks back to the camera and the intimacy coordinator beside it—a kind woman with a death glare pointed at the director. She sighed and looked back to the set. “Alright, you two. L/N, how are you doing? You comfortable?”

You sigh and lay back on the bed, staring up at the fake ceiling for this fake house in this fake movie that you were faking your way through. The life of an actress seemed to be a never-ending series of pretending to be someone you’re not. “I’m just peachy.”

The intimacy coordinator hums. “What about you, Hugh?”

“I’ll be fine as soon as that ol’ dag learns to be less of a prick,” Hugh mutters.

It was quite amusing to see Hugh this way, you will admit. He wasn’t usually so grumpy on set. In fact, he tended to be the sunshine in the movie-making cloud of darkness. Your countless camcorder videos of him cracking jokes or simply making a fool of himself behind the scenes proved he was always the life of the party.

“Jesus Christ,” the director groans. “Let’s just shoot the damn scene already.”

The intimacy coordinator rushes up to the two actors, ensuring everything from comfort, consent, modesty garments, and props are sufficiently in place, and then jogs back to the director’s side.

The director stood at the monitor, his brow furrowed in concentration as he reviewed the blocking for the scene. He was known for his meticulous attention to detail, and today was no different. Except, of course, he was a tad bit more intense at the moment. He turned to the crew and began giving instructions that neither you or Hugh could quite make out.

Hugh smiled at you, trying to ease the tension he knew you were feeling. “How ya feeling? Really.”

You cracked a smile, amused by his way of noticing when you were lying to the crew about your true emotions. “Tired and cranky. You?”

He shrugged. “Could use some supper, but other than that, I’m quite alright.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Oh, really? Nothing about this situation is pissing you off? You’re really alright right now?”

He grins. “Yes. Bloody Oath.”

You smile softly. “Honestly, I’m really fucking nervous right now. I’ve never done this kind of scene before.”

“What about your first film? Ripe Age, was it?”

You grin. “Little secret…? That was a body double filming the sex scene for me.”

Hugh raises an eyebrow and lets out a surprised huh sound. He then nodded in understanding, considering your words and putting together why you’d be nervous. He’d been in a few sex scenes before, but each one was different. Each acting partner brought their own energy and concerns. “I see, well… I’m right here with ya and we’ve got a bloody good team. Aside from Director Dickwad, of course.”

You laugh softly, not wanting to attract the director’s attention.

Just then, the intimacy coordinator approaches you two with her signature calm and kind demeanor. “Hey, L/N, Mr. Jackman, the director wants to go over everything one more time before we try again. Just to make sure we’re on the same page.”

The woman pulls up a prop chair from the room and sits at your eye level. You and Hugh listen to her intently, not wanting to miss something and having to re-shoot again. You’d done this scene enough times by now. “Okay, so we’ve discussed boundaries and comfort levels. Let’s revisit the choreography to make sure everything feels right.”

The woman held up the shot list and walked you two through the steps, just as one might for a complex dance sequence. You almost laughed at the notion of this being like a dance. Everything felt so ridiculous.

After a quick summary, the intimacy coordinator asks you two to get back into your positions for the scene. You slip back into your usual spots with ease. The woman guides you with gentle touches, adjusting a hand here, a foot there, ensuring your movements would look as natural as possible on camera while staying within your agreed limits.

You became hyper-aware of the small distance between your bodies—the way Hugh’s hand rested lightly on your waist, the heat of his skin warming yours through the thin, nude-colored underwear you wore.

“Remember,” the intimacy coordinator said after she was satisfied with their positions, her voice even, “this is a slow, intimate moment between two lovers who have missed each other very much.”

Hugh nodded, his focus remaining on you underneath him. “Right. We’ll take it slow.”

Your breath hitched softly at this. It was strangely comforting to know that he could see right through you and how you wanted so badly for everyone to be patient with you. “Yeah. Slow is good.”

The woman clapped, snapping you out of your moment of admiration for Hugh. “Alright, let’s get ready.”

The room was quieter than usual—a closed set. Only a few key crew members stood under the dimmed studio lights. The typical whispering and hum of equipment were replaced by a focused stillness. The room was dressed to look like an apartment bedroom—plush pillows under your head on a wide bed, soft lighting that cast warm shadows, and milky-white curtains that would sway with an unseen breeze after post-production.

You wore an almost translucent strapless bra, your nipples covered with nude-toned patches, and seamless nude underwear. Hugh, with a similar setup, wore modesty garments designed to appear as if he was—like you—fully exposed while still maintaining dignity. The garments, though strange and small, felt like a shield of some sort—a reminder that this wasn’t as invasive as it felt.

“Places,” the director called, and the set fell silent. The intimacy coordinator positioned herself by the monitor, ready to catch every detail. The director rested his chin in his palm, scratching his beard one, twice, before finally calling:

“Action.”

You and Hugh did everything again. The same exact choreographed movements you both had practiced. You focused on doing better than before, trying to make your rehearsed sounds and muttered lines seem real for the screen. Every touch and movement from Hugh was gentle and deliberate, ensuring you two stayed within the boundaries you had set beforehand. The scene was intimate, but the atmosphere between your near-nude bodies remained respectful and professional.

You moved together, your bodies close but never truly touching in the most vulnerable areas. You could feel the heat of Hugh’s breath against your neck as he leaned down, your movements slow and deliberate. Your fingers trailed down his bare back, your touch light, guided by the choreography you had rehearsed. You tried to focus on the script’s emotions—the longing, the fleeting connection…

The sounds of your heavy breathing, the rustle of fabric beneath you, and the soft creak of the bed were the only things you heard—all blending into the story you were trying to tell.

Hugh cupped your face in his right palm, his thumb brushing your skin in a gesture that was more tender than you expected. It was a small, unscripted moment, but it made the scene feel real. Almost too real.

You falter and miss your line—an important mumble of the words, I cease to exist without you near me. Your eyes widen as you realize your idiotic mistake.

“Cut!” the director calls, the annoyance in his voice far from hidden. “You missed the damn line. We’re taking a break. I need a fucking cigarette.”

Hugh gets off you and you sit up, fighting the urge to literally face-palm right then and there. You groan softly, embarrassed by your own blunder.

Hugh is quick to apologize. “I should’ve stuck to the script. I threw you off—”

“No, no, I wasn’t focused enough,” you interrupted, shaking your head. You exhaled a frustrated breath and covered your face in your palms. You wanted to disappear. Your words came out muffled as you spoke again. “Jesus, I wish we could just have actual sex. At least it would be convincing.”

There’s a strange silence that follows and you have to peek through your fingers just to make sure you didn’t somehow fall off the face of the planet and into the void of outer space. Hugh is staring down at the mattress underneath his rested hand, his eyebrows furrowed in thought. You raise an eyebrow. “Hugh…?”

He looks up at you, his expression unreadable, but not unkind. “What if we bail on this whole choreography nonsense? The director hardly knows how to write a bloody script. I wouldn’t be surprised if that dole bludger has never had sex before in his entire life.”

You stare at him blankly before blinking once, then twice. “What are you proposing?”

“Have you ever seen 9 Songs? Or Shortbus?”

You shake your head.

“The actors had unsimulated sex in order to portray their characters more efficiently. Of course, they had to sign contracts and consider possible strict scrutiny from the rating boards, but…”

You nearly laugh but grow red in the face when you notice his lack of humor. He’s serious? “You’re serious?”

He nods. “I… It’s a little mad, but we’re getting nowhere with this scene right now.”

Your throat goes dry. “This isn’t just some ruse to get laid, right? Some fucked up fantasy?”

“It isn’t.”

“You swear?”

“Bloody Oath.”

“I don’t know what that means,” you whisper, your voice somewhat emotionless as you’re too busy in a whirlwind of thoughts to pay much attention to anything else.

He chuckles softly, but there’s a hint of his own nerves peeking through. “Ah, it’s a form of saying ‘of course’ or ‘definitely’. Aussie shite.”

“The media will go crazy for this when they find out,” you say, completely ignoring his explanation. It didn’t even register. It went in through one ear and out the other. “The movie will be controversial. We’ll be controversial.”

He smiles and cracks another joke. “A little controversy never hurt anybody.”

Yes, it fucking did, you think, but you don’t say anything. You simply consider his idea. It’s insane. It’s mental. It’s lock-you-up-in-a-psych-ward crazy.

But it’s tempting.

After all, any press is good press, right?

“We should talk to Aimee,” you say, gesturing at the intimacy coordinator who was sipping now-cold coffee from a mug that read, Teaching is my superpower, what’s yours? It didn’t make any fucking sense and for some reason that pissed you off more than the stupidity of this decision did.

Hugh nods and then huffs slightly. “It was just an idea, though, mate. It’s a bit reckless. We sincerely don’t have to.”

“Hugh.”

Silence. A beat of hesitation. “Yeah, mate?”

“Let’s get our movie done.”

You walk up to the intimacy coordinator, asking to speak to her in private. You enter the director’s empty office, borrowing his space. The woman sips her coffee and then sets it down on the brown desk beside you two, waiting for you to speak.

“Have you seen 9 Songs?”

She stares at you, a dumbfounded expression quickly replaced by one of steady firmness. “Absolutely not. L/N, no. Do you know what that could mean for this film?”

You furrow your eyebrows slightly. “Aimee, we’ve been shooting this same fucking scene for weeks. This is the climax of the movie. It’s a pivotal moment. You can’t have a movie about transformative romantic and sexual intimacy without a convincing sex scene.”

Aimee raises an eyebrow. “You’ve analyzed the script?”

“I’ve read the damn book we’re adapting.”

“We’d have to change the rating from R to NC-17 or X, L/N.” She sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Just… talk to the director. He’ll be the one to give you the green light.”

You nod.

————————————————————————

“Are you a fucking imbecell?”

“It’s actually pronounced ‘imbecile’, sir, and, uh, no. I’m not. I’m serious. This—” You snatch the worn, slightly bent script from the director’s free hand, his other one holding a lit cigarette, “This here is a fucking work of art that you’ve got. Hugh and I are committed to it. We want it as much as you do. As much as the thousands of fans who read the book are. People deserve a loyal adaptation.”

The director looks at you, stunned silent by the sudden balls you’ve grown. “You want the Wolverine to fuck you on camera for everyone to see?”

You shove the script to his chest, holding it there with the palm of your hand. “You’re damn right I do. I’m not letting you fuck up this movie.”

He clears his throat, takes a long drag from his cigarette, and then quotes, “‘Fuck me gently with a chainsaw.’”

“Excuse me, sir?”

“Fine,” he says shortly. He drops his half-done cigarette on the concrete floor and stomps on it with his shoe, like a kid murdering a helpless ant just because he can. “But we’ll have to change the rating of the film. Expect less raving reviews and more controversy-fueled attention. You’re not winning a damn Oscar from this, kid. That’s out the window now.”

“So be it.”

“Tell Aimee to get the necessary paperwork to you and Mr. Jackman in thirty minutes. We’re finishing this godforsaken scene today.”

————————————————————————

“Okay, and…” Aimee starts, stacking the signed contracts atop each other before holding them together with a paperclip, “…there we go. All set. I hope you know that this is fucking insane.”

Hugh leans back in his chair. “I’d say it’s time I take a risk in my career. Can’t always rely on my X-Men reputation to carry me afloat.”

You roll your eyes. “Says the veteran actor.”

“If forty plus years of acting makes me veteran, what does that make you?” Hugh asks with a playful look.

“The total opposite.”

“Guys, please. Get a damn room,” Aimee interrupts. “Okay, so, the room will be empty while you two… Yeah. I’ll be right outside the door if you need me. The cameras will be running the whole time as soon as I leave the room. Post-production is gonna have a helluva lot of fun with this shit.”

“They’ll have ‘shower-nozzle masturbation material for weeks’,” the director says suddenly, having been sitting beside Aimee but mindlessly scrolling through his phone the entire time, seemingly uninterested in the legal, paperwork process.

“Do you always quote Heathers?” you ask, more amused than truly interested.

“Whenever possible.”

Aimee scoffs and then stands. “Let’s go get you geniuses ready on set. ‘Come on, it’ll be very.’”

The director smirks at the intimacy coordinator’s quick, witty use of reference.

They head back to the set and the crew fixes up the cameras and lighting before leaving Aimee, Hugh, you, and the director alone in the room. The director inspects the cameras before humming in satisfaction. “Fuck the choreography, then. Just… keep the characters in mind, please. Use your lines. I’m not paying you two to fuck on my set for no reason.”

Hugh smirks. “See ya in a bit, ol’ cobber.”

The director waves him off and leaves the room, Aimee following suit after a brief reminder of consent and safety rules. Soon enough, you and Hugh are left on the set alone, the cameras running and expectant.

Hugh sits on the bed. All the foreplay scenes were already shot and done a few days back, meaning they didn’t have to act anything like that out anymore. The only part they were missing was the sex. Just the undressing, the friction, the orgasms, and that was that.

“Come here,” Hugh whispers, his voice slipping into his impressive, fake American accent. You admired the way he could get into character so easily.

You walk up to him and stand in between his legs as he sits at the edge of the mattress. His hands make contact with your waist almost immediately, the thin robe with the production company’s logo on it riding up as his hands follow the curve and dip of your hips. You bite your bottom lip and watch his face as he feels you up. Somehow, it’s different than before. His fingers burn holes in your skin, making you feel jolts of both confusion and excitement.

If all the foreplay scenes were done with, why was he acting this way?

He grips her hips tighter, a small squeeze following suit before his fingers graze over the tied strings up front. “May I?”

You nod, not saying a word. This was new. So very new. None of this so far would even be in the film. Why would he bother?

He tugs at one of the strings and watches as your robe falls open, revealing the bare skin beneath, no modesty garments in place at all this time around.

He sucks in a breath, letting his gaze stare shamelessly at your exposed breasts. He leans forward and kisses each one softly. It’s a tender, gentle touch that you wouldn’t have expected from a co-star doing his job. “Hugh…”

He hums, his lips still grazing over your chest with no rest.

“Why are you… Do you need to tell me something?” you ask softly.

Hugh takes one of your nipples in his mouth and sucks softly, swirling his tongue around it in a curious motion before pulling back, looking up at you in an expression of dropped reserve. All his honesty was going to come out. You could tell from the look on his face. He didn’t even hesitate, simply looked at you, his eyes flicking from one of your eyes to the other, down to your lips, and then back up again—a smooth, triangular motion. “Perhaps I’m very fond of you and have been purposefully hiding it.”

“Perhaps?”

“I am very fond of you and have been purposefully hiding it,” he says with a tone of finality, as if that explains everything. And in a way, it does. The secret glances you’ve shared over the months of filming together, the careful, tender touches and holds at red carpets and promo interviews, the flirtatious joking and banter… You wrote everything off as friendly, but it was more than that, wasn’t it?

Hugh slides the robe off your shoulders and lets it fall to the floor with a nearly-soundless landing. Completely exposed before him, you can’t help but feel a tad shy. Your eyes rake over Hugh’s shirtless, hairy chest and tight-fitting sweats that barely stop the hem of his boxers from peeking out above his waistline. He pulls you in closer, his fingers trailing up from the back of your leg to your waist to your stomach to your breasts to your neck to your jaw, and then back down the same way they came.

You suck in a breath as two fingers follow the crease of where your upper thigh met groin. You stifle a small, but audible moan at the chills his fingers send through you.

He hums and moves his hands to rest on your hips once again. “Is that all it takes?”

Yes.

You gasp softly when Hugh’s grip on your hips tighten before he sets you down on the bed, his body hovering over yours, essentially caging you in. He pulls his sweats and boxers down in one swift motion, kicking them off like they did something to personally offend him. You feel his erection pressing against your leg and stiffen slightly.

He leans his head down quickly, but stops just above your face, his lips grazing over yours when he speaks, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’ve missed you direly.”

Your heart skips a beat and it takes you a moment to register that he’s speaking lines from the script, back in character.

He kissed you then, hard and deep, his tongue claiming your mouth’s entrance as if it belonged there and couldn’t believe it had been away for so long. He pushes his body closer against yours, pinning you to the soft mattress as he pours all his pent-up desire and need into the kiss. It doesn’t take long for his lips to lose their way and explore other paths you have to offer. His mouth kisses along your jaw and neck, teeth grazing against your skin as he goes.

“Been dreamin’ of this,” he pants, his damn good false-American voice hoarse as he kisses along your collarbone now. “Dreamin’ of havin’ you again. Been drivin’ me mad every night in the trenches, doll.”

You cling to him, your fingers digging into his back, your body arching under his touch. Every kiss felt like an invasion of privacy—but one you could very much live with. You needed to remember your lines. Come on. What was the damn line?

Right.

“You have no idea,” you gasp between kisses, his attack on your swollen lips refusing to relent even as you attempt to speak, “how many nights I’ve thought about this… About you. About us.”

He pushes a finger into your wet cunt without warning, as if rewarding you for remembering your lines so quickly this time. When had his hand even gone down there? He growls against your skin at the feel of your wetness around his finger, his free hand grasping your hip to bring you closer.

“I thought about it all the time,” he mutters, gently moving his finger back and forth in a slow pattern. His voice is ragged as he kisses along your jaw. “Thought about you, how you felt under me, how you sounded when I touched you… I was going insane with it.”

You gasp slightly between pants, but he barely lets you catch your breath before his lips are back on yours. He pulls his finger out abruptly, running it down your side, leaving a wet trail in his wake.

“Couldn’t get you out of my head,” he whispers, his voice still rough. His hand slams down against the space of mattress beside your head, a temporary loss of temper on display. Right. This is his character, you remind yourself. “Damn it, doll, I fuckin’ need you. I need to feel you, to taste you… I need you to be mine again. Fuck the war, fuck the politics… I can’t be without you tonight. Just for tonight.”

You nod softly, the action causing your lips to separate from his. He takes the opportunity to kiss over your closed eyelid and then the top of your head—an unscripted act that leaves your face burning. “I cease to exist without you near me.”

He opens his mouth to respond but you cut him off before he can even begin by wrapping your legs around his hips, an unscripted act to counterattack his. He groans as he feels your legs wrap around him, pulling him closer to you. The feeling of having your thighs on either side of him, the soft flesh squishing against his hip bones, has his head spinning. He smirks against your lips, realizing his mistake but not stopping. What’s one line missed, anyway?

His hand moves down to his cock and you bite down on your bottom lip as you feel him line himself up with your entrance. Things had escalated so quickly that it had your brain reeling. Hugh leans down so his head is right beside your ear. He whispers just loud enough for you to hear, but quiet enough for post-production to be able to remove his out-of-character question with barely any trouble: “Is this okay?”

“I need you, Ces,” you respond, using his character’s name and hoping he’ll understand your line as an affirmative answer.

He captures your lips in a fierce kiss as he pushes into you, slow enough to give you time to both adjust and choose to back out if needed. His body involuntarily shudders at the sensation. He groans into your mouth, his hands gripping your hips firmly.

“Fuck,” he gasps breathlessly, his voice hoarse and rough.

You whimper softly, the feeling of being so filled up in a way you haven’t ever experience before leaving you making a string of pathetic, soft, unscripted noises. He rubs slow circles against your hip bone with his thumb, coaxing your body into a non-tense state.

He starts to move when your body relaxes, his strokes slow and firm, his body seeking more of you. He craves you, needs you, wants to please you utterly. No amount of acting could hide how real that feeling was for him.

He pulls back slightly so he can look at your face. Your eyes are squeezed shut as you struggle to keep up, your breathing uneven and your brain all jumbled. You were trying so desperately to hold onto the parts of this that needed you to be an actress, but the parts that were all too real were threatening to take over.

“Look at me,” Hugh whispers, his voice low and strained with his own pleasure, his hips still rocking back and forth against yours, though slower now so as to give you some room to think. “I want to see you. I want to see how much you’ve missed this, darlin’. How much you’ve been achin’ for me, like I’ve been achin’ for you.”

That last line wasn’t in the script and you noticed that immediately. It was, however, in the book. The thought that the Hugh Jackman had read the novel before starring in the adaptation sent a shiver of affection down your spine. It was more than just lust. You wanted him bad. In more ways than one.

You open your eyes, Hugh’s face slowly blurring back into focus. The look on your face, the way you looked at him with such desperate need as you bit down a soft moan, your nails digging into the flesh of his arm, makes his heart pound. He captures your lips again, his kiss harsh as he swallows the involuntary moan you’re forced to let out.

You know there’s another line you have to deliver—and soon. But you can’t remember it. Your brain is a fuzzy mess as he picks up the pace a bit, pushing you further into the mattress. A particularly hard thrust—the motion like a punishment for your forgetfulness—has you gasp into his mouth and he groans in response.

I want you to forget the war when you’re with me. Let me take that away.

Those were her next lines. All she had to do was say them. Why couldn’t she?

Hugh thrusts into her faster now, as if chasing his own release and forgetting the matter at hand.

That’s why.

“I want—”

He swallows whatever you were going to say with a deep, passionate kiss, his tongue plunging into your mouth all over again. So much for getting all your lines in. He doesn’t want to hear you say anything right now. He just wants to hear the sounds you make so he can commit them to memory in case this never happens again.

He pulls back, breaking the kiss, his eyes dark and intense. “Say my name, dollface. Say it.”

Your head falls back and like a dog to a bone, his mouth connects with your neck in an instant.

“Mmm— Hugh…”

He smirks against your neck before moving his face down and biting softly on your shoulder. “Wrong one… They’ll edit that out, love.”

She catches her mistake, the bite on her shoulder serving as a snap back to reality. Or, more accurately, a snap back to her acting responsibilities as a maker of cinematic illusions. “Ces… Fuck— You feel so good…”

A shudder of desire runs through him as he hears your unscripted compliment. It does everything to him to know that he’s successfully making you feel good. He’s making you feel good. He presses a bruising kiss to your neck.

“Just like that, doll,” he says, his voice a rough whisper. “Tell me how good it feels…”

“S-So good,” she mumbles, her words barely coherent enough to make it into a decent movie. “Mmm— Like that…”

He feels your hands move up to the muscles of his tense, flexed bottom, your fingers digging into the flesh and dragging him closer, letting him fuck you at a deeper level. The pain of your nails in his skin only adds to the pleasure, and he’s nearly driven mad by it. It’s almost more than he can take. “Yeah? Like this?”

You nod and he moves faster, his hips slamming into yours now in a steady, primal rhythm. He’s consumed by it, the feeling, the pleasure, the utter need to have you as his, even if temporarily. He bites at your neck, your shoulder, his body giving itself to yours with every thrust.

“I’m yours, pretty. This… Everything…” he pants, punctuating each word with a deep stroke. “I’m all yours if you’ll have me forever. The war does not own me, you do.”

You’re momentarily stunned by his ability to improvise such in-character lines. The fan in you who loved the book when it was released is impressed and somewhat proud. Even with your mind a cloudy mess, you still manage to have your heart swell with admiration.

He kisses you again, hard and deep, his tongue pushing across your bottom lip before entering your mouth. He’s so eager with it that his teeth knock against yours multiple times as his tongue finds your own. “I’m never letting you go.”

“I’m never allowing you to,” you pant into his mouth.

The need, the want, within him reaches new heights. He grips your hips harder, his thrusts becoming rougher and more primal. It was like his self-control was aggressively and hatefully tossed out the fake window of the set. His hands let go of her hips, leaving behind a stinging sensation that will surely turn to bruises, and move up to the headboard behind her. You think you’re fully at his mercy now, but, really, he’s at your mercy. Completely and irrevocably. And damn if that doesn’t drive the both of you absolutely crazy.

You reach up towards the headboard in order to adjust yourself, but he stops you, wanting you to remain where you were.

“Don’t move, don’t move,” he whispers quickly, finding the right angle so he can drive into you with the headboard as his support. He holds onto the wood so tightly that his knuckles turn white.

You let out a moan, louder than before. His cock twitches inside you in response, a clear sign of his enjoyment of the sound. “You like this, don’t you?” he pants.

Your head falls back, exposing your neck to him. He all but moans at the sight. He releases one hand from the headboard and finds his way to your throat, gripping it just tight enough to make you gasp. He leans down and kisses your lips the softest he ever has—a stark contrast to his actions. “I love you, dollface. I love you, I love you, I love you…”

You look him in the eyes as he says these lines, wondering if fiction ever does blur with reality. If so, when was that point for you two? Have you gotten there yet?

Your eyes shut on their own accord and it nearly sends him over the edge. His grip around your throat tightens as he nears his orgasm and he forces himself to let go so he doesn’t accidentally hurt you.

You cup his face, your thumb brushing across his bottom lip. “Keep going, Hugh… Don’t stop…”

He groans at the sound of his real name in your mouth. The feel of your hands on his face, the words leaving her lips… it all sends a shiver of desire down his spine and his cock twitches involuntarily.

“Oh, God, I’m so close…” you mumble between pants, completely off-script. “Please, don’t stop.”

The sound of your pleading, you saying you’re close, nearly makes him come right then and there. His movements become more frantic and desperate. Erratic, even. His words come out in low whispers, as if they were reserved for her and not the camera. “I’ve got you. I’m gonna give you what you need.”

In a few seconds, you’re completely falling apart below him, your orgasm crashing over you like a wave. You had no life jacket and the ocean had no mercy.

“Fuck, that’s it…” he groans as he watches you come and tighten around his cock.

Your wave of ecstasy pushes him to the brink, his own climax hitting him like a ton of heavy-hitting bricks. He groans and shudders against her, his body warm and damp.

You both take a few seconds to catch your breath. You smell of sex and sweat and everything you decide you’re strangely okay with.

“I think… I think you missed a few lines,” Hugh says, still panting slightly.

You smile at the joke, your chest rising and falling quickly, but beginning to slow down. “Maybe we’ll have to re-do it.”

“What a bloody shame.”

You grin and he pushes forward to kiss your lips without warning—the quick, sudden contact all the proof of his need for you that will remain long after the director will someday soon yell the final “Cut!” for this little film.

[tlou-reid]

All of the Books Beside Your Bed ✿ Spencer Reid

♡ SUMMARY: Spencer can’t help but save the day after your weekend plans are ruined

♡ WARNINGS: gross disgusting fluff, mention of a book that talks about nazi propaganda but it’s the same book that was mentioned in the show, a steamy kiss, reader really goes through it mentally in the beginning

𖤣.𖥧.𖡼.⚘.𖤣.𖥧.𖡼.⚘.𖤣.𖥧.𖡼.⚘.𖤣.𖥧.𖡼.⚘

Everyone could tell you were in a bit of a sour mood. Working with profilers upwards of 9 hours a day (and that was an easy day), made it hard for subtleties to go unnoticed.

The team caught on to the lack of jokes passed around the bullpen, the way you huffed when you sat down after getting each cup of coffee, and they definitely noticed the scowl that had been etched across your face all day.

“What’s got sunshine all cranky today?” Derek asked, posing the question to Penelope and JJ in the break room. “We’re not sure, she’s been awfully quiet today,” JJ informs, looking long-fully at your desk, where you angrily shaking your keyboard, tired of the delay when you were typing.

All three of them watch as Spencer slides his chair around, “Hey, hey, hey,” he calls, moving to grab your arm. “It’s not working!” You huff, moving back so Spencer can work his magic. Derek, Penelope, and JJ can’t hear the rest, but they see you relax as Spencer shows you how much better your keyboard is working.

The three disperse, settling back in to finish the paperwork assigned for the day. If all goes well, they’ll get their weekend off. So, everyone was locked in.

Everyone except you. And, oddly enough, Spencer.

The rest of the team had noticed the surface level differences, but Spencer saw you on a different level. He noticed that you started picking at your fingers after you went outside to eat lunch. He noticed when you turned down the brightness of your desktop computer. He noticed the lack of your usual, rotating choice of a novel resting on your desk.

Spencer wasn’t saying he was a better profiler than the rest of the team; he just tended to notice the little things. Especially about you. You were one of his friends, after all.

You weren’t sure why your day was crawling by. You were aware of why you were in such a poor mood, but the only thing that could make it better would be to get off of work and head home. It was silly to be so angry over something so trivial, but you really did plan your weekend around going to the library tomorrow morning.

Your weekend plans surrounded the book you were going to spend hours selecting. Going to the library was something you looked forward to every week, and you knew Hotch has plans with Beth this weekend, so chances were there would be no case and you could truly enjoy your time. You wanted to make a nice dinner for yourself tonight, curl up and watch a movie, and then head to bed.

Tomorrow, you were looking forward to getting up and doing your makeup, browsing around the library until your heart was content, grab lunch with Penelope, and then going home to read in the bathtub. You couldn’t have been more excited.

But your plans were quickly ruined. The library you frequented had sent an email to all its patrons, informing them they the library would be closed until further notice, due to a water pipe that was underground breaking. It had completely ruined your mood for the whole day. And it was continually getting worse with each little inconvenience. You left your notebook at home, when you passed Morgan a file you had given yourself a paper cut, your lunch was soggy, and now your computer was acting up. There was no winning for you today.

“Thank you,” you tried your best to be kind to Spencer, he always tried to help you. “Just try not to smash the keys again,” he teased as he slid his chair back to his desk. “I make no promises.” You mumbled.

Spencer spent a good majority of the day trying to figure out the best way to ask why you were in such a bad mood without making it any worse. He continued to notice how your mood steadily declined, even as the people in the bullpen started to head home. “Is something wrong?” He settled on, after you threw your head back in agitation. You couldn’t help the way tears started to form in your eyes, all the emotions from the awful day spilling over, as you laid your head down on the desk.

No matter how much Emily loved you, she took this as a sign to head home, leaving just you and Spencer. As the glass door to the BAU closed, Spencer made his way to your desk, crouching right down. He rested his arm close to you, wondering if he should rub circles on your back like JJ does for him when he’s upset.

“Hey,” he cooed in that soft voice he only used with people who were vulnerable, “what’s going on?” Being entirely overwhelmed with everything that had happened today, and being engulfed by Spencer’s being had your mind going fuzzy, not allowing you to properly articulate the struggles you’d been facing. “The whole thing just crashed,” you mumbled your most recent misfortune into your arm, doing your best to hold back sobs that were threatening to come through.

“Have you reopened it?” Spencer questioned, springing into action to come up with a solution. You shook your head as more tears fell. “Can I sit there?” He asked, needing your limp body out of his way so he could help you. You nodded again, trying your best to wipe your eyes before lifting yourself up and moving to lean against your desk. “Are you crying?” Spencer couldn’t help himself from asking, very ungracefully.

You simply nodded, turning your head away. Spencer’s cheeks turned red, realizing how inconsiderate he sounded despite just wanting to help make things better for you. He turned his attention back to your computer, easily recovering the file you’d been working on. “There you go. You might’ve lost some work, but it recovered to six minutes ago. I can help you catch up, if you want.” He offers, wanting to recover from his uncouth comment earlier.

You sniffled, “I think I just want to go home.” Spencer nodded, moving out of your chair to allow you to pack your things. “Hold on,” he mumbles to himself, moving back into your desk space. He saved your file, opened your email, and sent it to himself. “What are you doing?” You questioned, rubbing your eyes. “I can finish it for you tonight. We worked on the geographical profile together, so I got it.” Spencer smiled, albeit awkwardly. “Thank you, Spence.” You said with a breath of relief. “It’s no problem at all. I can tell you’ve had a hard day, I just want to make it easier for you.”

Spencer’s simple heartfelt concern for you sent your waterworks over the edge. You couldn’t help yourself as the tears fell, staining your tired cheeks with dark streams of mascara. You couldn’t imagine how goofy you looked, but every emotion was hitting you all at once. You didn’t know how to control it. It was all just too much.

Spencer cooed your name, not hesitating to put a gentle hand over your crossed arms. “Do you want to talk about it?” His voice was unusually soft, trying his best to create a safe space for you.

You nodded your head, wanting to share but struggling to express all of your hardships. It was as if your throat was closing in on itself, making it hard to breathe and impossible to talk. Spencer could see this written across your face, hesitating for one second before pulling you into his chest. “Shh,” he comforted as one hand ran up and down your back and the other held you close, “it’s okay.”

You weren’t sure how long you two stood like that. Spencer continued to whisper sweet affirmations to you, really just wanting you to feel better. His concern for germs and the stains that could appear on his lilac button up shirt were far away, not circling his mind. All he could focus on was getting you to calm down. He waited patiently for your sobs to slow down and your shoulders to relax.

You pulled away from him, wiping your eyes, “I’m sorry,” you apologized. For everything. For how silly you looked, for crying, for the dark spot on his shirt, everything.

“No need.” He dismissed your attempt, “do you want to talk about it now?” You once again nodded, leaning back against your desk. You were more relaxed now that you had let out your feelings. Still, you felt somehow even sillier as your biggest problem escaped your lips, “I really just wanted to go the library tomorrow.”

Spencer’s face scrunched up, expecting a much more catastrophic reason behind your emotional outburst. You saw the confusion written across his face and went into a deeper explanation. “I had my whole weekend planned out, and the highlight of it was going to the library tomorrow morning. I got an email that said it’s closed indefinitely because of a plumbing issue. And then all the computer issues and my lunch was ruined and it’s just been all around a shitty day. And I can’t even go home and relax like I wanted to because the fucking library is closed.”

Spencer nodded at your angry rambling, happy you were past the crying part of your frustration. He was a bit shocked at your foul language, knowing it wasn’t a common thing for you. His brain moved on quickly, recognizing he had a solution to your problem. “Why don’t you come to my house?”

It was your turn to scrunch your face up in confusion, not understanding what he was proposing. This instantly launched Spencer into an awkward recovery rambling, “I mean, I have a lot of books. Not as much as the public library, as the average library has over 100,000 books, most of which are general fiction, although some would argue that young adult fiction is more common,” he took a breath and attempted to move on from his side track, “I have a fraction of that, but more than the average person. I bet you could find something to read from my collection.” He concluded.

Your entire mood changed as he finished his proposition. It was amazing that he could come up with such a practical solution to such a ridiculous problem, and it was even more amazing how quickly he did. Spencer was welcoming you into his home, allowing you to borrow a book, which you knew were precious to him. He was being so caring, so kind.

“Spencer,” you said, with the amount of awe and adoration you were feeling dripping through, “that is so nice.”

Your sweet tone as you said his name had Spencer’s knees feeling weak. The way you said his name sounded so sweet, like you dripping ooey gooey honey from your mouth.

His cheeks turned red, “it’s nothing. I just don’t want to see you crying again.” You nodded, making a mental note to do your best not to cry in the bullpen anymore. “Are you sure it’s okay?” Spencer immediately nodded, “of course it is. I’ll send you my address.” The smile that adorned your face contrasted sharply with the tears stains on your cheek, but he was so happy to see it.

“Thank you so much,” you said one last time, before packing up your bag to head home.

You tried to pretend that you didn’t set your alarm a little bit early so you’d have more than enough to get ready. You justified it by telling yourself that this was your day, you just wanted to feel as good as possible. Sure, going to Spencer’s house had absolutely nothing to do with it.

You couldn’t wipe the smile off of your face as you climbed into the car, turning on your favorite song and started making your way to the local cafe you and Emily frequented. You knew Spencer liked his drinks sweet, so you did your best to pick out something he’d like, and then hopped back in your car and continued your drive to his home.

It didn’t take long to get there, thankfully. You didn’t want to hand him a cold coffee.

“Hello,” he greeted after you shyly knocked on his door. He was dressed in a FBI branded hoodie and a pair of jeans. You guessed he was only dressed because of your presence, judging by how lackluster his outfit was compared to the button ups, ties, and cardigans he wore to work.

“I don’t think I can say thank you enough, so I bought a coffee to show my appreciation.” Your smile grew tenfold when his eyes lit up at the small cup in your hand. “I told you, it’s no problem. But, thank you for the coffee.” He nodded as he took it from you and opened the door wider, allowing you to step into his apartment.

You weren’t sure what you were expecting it too look like, but it wouldn’t have mattered anyway, because the real thing was much more grand than anything your imagination could’ve conjured up. Green walls with dark wood molding, a beautifully worn leather couch, bookcases full of books and DVDs of his favorite tv shows. It was so incredibly Spencer, and easily the coziest place you’ve ever stepped foot in. Not even the cluttered stacks of books that adorned parts of the floor and coffee table could take away from the beauty that is Spencer Reid’s apartment.

“Wow, Spence,” you sighed in awe, glancing around the space, “your home is beautiful.” Spencer blushed, ushering you to step farther in. “I’m sorry to be a pain, but could you take your shoes off? I don’t want to track the outside in.” You understood what he meant and nodded, knowing it would save him a lot of mysophobia-induced worry.

“Do you want a tour?” Spencer inquired, setting his cup down on the coffee table. You excitedly nodded, wanting nothing more than to explore his space. He moved towards the left-most bookshelf in his living room, “This is all non-fiction, organized with my very own Dewey decimal system,” he gloated. It was easily to tell that Spencer was proud of his book collection, rightfully so. “The rest of them,” he gestured to two more shelves on the left side of his RCA brand television, “are fiction. They’re organized by author, so you should feel right at home when you’re browsing.”

You nodded excitedly. You couldn’t wait to sort through his mountains of novels.

“This TV is probably older than you,” he quickly breezed over it, “and this is the start of my disc collection. It’s just my favorites right now, Doctor Who, a few soap operas and a couple French films.” You nodded along as he made his list. “This is where my records go, and the occasional CD. I prefer physical media, as opposed to streaming.” That factoid made sense for Spencer.

“There’s a chess table over there, my couch, and the kitchen. My room and the bathroom are down the hall.” Your eyes scanned the room one last time, completely and utterly impressed. “I love it, Spencer. I can only imagine how good it feels to come home to this.” Spencer’s cheeks turned red, not used to being showered in compliments like this.

“Um,” he took a second to collect himself, “I’ve read all of the ones on the shelves, so if you need summaries or reviews I’ll be here. This stack,” he points to the one next to the couch, “are my newest ones, but you are more than welcome to any of them. And this one,” he points to the one next to the chess table, “are ones I am planning to donate, so you are welcome to keep them if you’d like.”

You nodded at his words again, practically ripping at the seams with excitement. Your cheeks were starting to hurt from how long you’d been smiling.

“I’ll leave you to it,” Spencer remarked, reaching for his coffee cup. He wanted to make sure he was honoring your previous weekend plans, allowing you to browse his home library to your heart’s content. He wouldn’t go far, just to the kitchen, so you could have your space.

Before you could stop yourself you were calling out a hurried, “wait!” You stopped, almost if you’d shocked yourself with your remark. You couldn’t help yourself. You felt like you wanted him, no, needed him around. As if the beauty and the warmth and the coziness of his home would dampen by his departure. You stuttered a bit, trying to justify your interruption. “Do you have any recommendations?” was the best you could come up with.

As if he didn’t notice how much higher your voice had gotten, Spencer’s back straightened up and his eyes widen with joy. “I do!” He cheered, heading over to his shelves of fiction books. “This is The Illustrated Man by Ray Bradbury,” he didn’t even have to look before pulling it down, “it’s a number of stories tied together with a narrative about a man whose tattoos tell stories.” Spencer moved to the coffee table, setting it down right in the middle.

“This one,” he moves back to the shelf, “is called Mother Night. It’s about the conflicted emotions of a Nazi propagandist who doesn’t believe in the propaganda.” Spencer places this book right on top of the previous one.

He does this a few more times, until you have your own stack of books he’d picked out for you. You couldn’t help but notice how your pile fit like a missing puzzle piece in his world of books.

“And this one,” Spencer starts for the fifth or sixth time, but takes a second to glance at you. He realizes quickly that you’re no longer paying attention to the summaries he’s providing. Instead, your attention is turned to the pile of books he’d been creating. For the third time since you arrived, his face is read with embarrassment. He’d been rambling. For far too long. “I’m sorry,” he sighs, moving to return the books to the shelves, “you wanted to browse. I just love books, and I wanted to make sure you found something you like! I didn’t mean to start rambling.”

You’re easily broken out of your trance, quickly pulled away from your imaginations of your own novels mixed in with his on these shelves. “No!” You said, stepping closer to him, “I loved your recommendations, Spencer!” You reassured him, reaching for his arm.

“It’s okay, I promise. I like listening to you talk.” You successfully rendered him speechless, creating a momentary lag in brain. You were so close to him, complimenting his rambles and being interested in his opinions. His breath caught in his throat as he noticed the sparkles in your eyes.

“I don’t mean to come on too strong or anything, but if you want to, I’d really like to kiss you right now,” Spencer whispered into the delicate space between you. You simply nodded, too enamored with the moment to say anything. His right hand came to rest gently against your cheek as he leaned in, placing a gentle kiss on your lips. His touch was feather-light and his lips tasted like sugar, definitely from the coffee you’d given him.

The kiss was a few seconds long, filled with nothing but sickly sweet puppy love.

“Thank you,” he whispered again. You couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped your lips, “anytime, Spence.” He let out a light laugh as well.

He couldn’t help himself from pulling you back into him, taking up on your ‘anytime’ offer. This kiss was filled with sweetness, just as last one was. His hands moved to waist, making sure you were flush against him.

You reciprocated, just wanting to be close to him. Your hands moved upwards, entangling themselves into his hair, as you swiped your tongue along his bottom lip. You smiled against his lips, breaking the ever-growing tension in the room.

When you two pulled away, you found yourself marveling at Spencer. He just looked so pretty, with his now tussled hair and slightly swollen lips. You wished you could commit this sight to memory, just as he was doing to you. While he never had to try, Spencer’s gaze lingered on you for just a second longer, making sure his eidetic memory was doing its job, before he spoke.

“I know you had plans for your weekend, but I’d love to take you on a date, if you’d like.” Spencer stumbled through his proposal, trying to find the words. “I don’t know, I went through a lot of trouble to get to this point.” You joked, sending both of you into a fit a laughter. “C’mon,” you stepped away from him as you moved closed to the door, “let’s go grab lunch.”

[foreingersgod]

Wait up for you . EE

pairings: emily engstler x reader

synopsis: she’s an early bird, you’re a night owl…but she also refuses to sleep until you agree to go to bed with her

A/N: this sounded a lot better in my head, but i fear it came out terrible lol, also this was a request that i lost somewhere in the inbox so apologies if that was you!!

“how many more pages left?” emily asked, voice muffled by her pillow. she was laid flat on her stomach, eyes fighting to stay open as her fingers toyed with the hem of your shirt.

it was well into the early hours of the morning by now-moonlight creeping into your shared bedroom, crickets chirping loudly outside. it was your favorite time of day, when the world had gone silent and it was just you (and your lovely girlfriend) with no interruptions. life was always busy for the two of you, with work and your education and with emily’s career, and it left you with little time to have a few hours of peace. so tonight, after working a double and taking your last final for the semester, you allowed yourself some time to unwind and read.

emily had been out with her team for the majority of the night, eventually coming home to see you tucked under the duvet of your bed and propped up against the headboard. you were quite the night owl, she knew, always expecting you to be busy with something when she got home. whether that be reading, watching a new show, or doing some random craft you’d seen on tiktok that you convinced yourself you could nail first try. it made her smile as she walked through the door, watching your eyes flicker across the pages rapidly. but whilst she loved your wakeful nature, she often found it difficult to keep up with.

emily was almost the exact opposite of you, in a way, going to bed earlier than most and getting up hours before you for practice. she was the sun and you were the moon. she didn’t mind that you stayed up late except for the fact the she truly couldn’t sleep without you. ever since moving in together, she found it harder and harder to go to bed alone. she craved the weight of your head on her chest, the silent snores that would occasionally fall from your lips throughout the night. so she’d wait up every night for you, finding something to keep herself busy until you were ready to finally fall asleep.

“i don’t know, babe” you hummed, trying to focus on the paragraph you were on. you were hoping to finish your book by tonight, but your particularly needy girlfriend was making it near impossible with her small interruptions “maybe like 35…40?”

“40?!” emily groaned, turning her head away from you and letting about a dramatic sigh. she didn’t know how much longer she could stand.

“emily, you can go to bed!” you laughed and set the book down on your lap, reaching over to gently caress her arm “you’ve had a long night, you need some rest”

“i can’t believe you just said that” she joked, rolling over onto her back, a calloused hand coming up to rub her jaw. she looked up at you with half lidded eyes and a lopsided grin on her face “i wanna wait up for you, you know that”

you bit back a smile. your heart swelled knowing that she loved you this much. but it also made you feel so unbelievably guilty some nights, that she was missing sleep just because of you. on several occasions you would beg her to go to sleep in fear that she would wake up cranky and exhausted and barely make it through the day, but she was more than insistent on waiting.

“i know,” you sighed “i just don’t want you to be tired s’all”

she rolled her eyes, scooting down the bed to wrap a strong arm around your torso. her head came to rest against your hip as she kissed the exposed skin of your thigh.

“i’d rather be tired every single day than go to bed without you”

you chuckled under your breathe, shaking your head slightly. she was impossible to resist. emily squeezed you tightly as she felt your stomach expand in laughter, fingers sneaking their way under your shirt to brush against your smooth skin.

“you’re so cute, em”

“cute enough for you to finish the book tomorrow and go to bed with me?” she tilted her head up, hopeful for your compliance. her lips formed a small pout which earned a playfully disappointed look from you.

“you’re so lucky i love you” you put the bookmark back into its spot in your book, placing it somewhere on your cluttered night stand. emily instantly moved off of your lap to lay back on her side of the bed, arms opening wide for you to slide into.

you accepted her embrace as you finally settled into bed, allowing emily’s large body to envelop your own. she pulled the blanket up over your shoulders once you were comfortable, making sure you were tucked in just the way you liked. your head found solace underneath her chin, chest pressed against hers. it was like the muscle memory, the way the two of you blended into each other as the night grew darker. her body relaxed as your weight pressed into her, hearing your heart beat slow.

“mmm, i love you too” she placed a chaste kiss to the top of your head. now satisfied, she let her eyes close completely. she’d wait for hours just to have these moments with you “g’night, baby”

“goodnight, em” you muttered before finally drifting off to sleep.

[neoarchipelago]

So I got to reading some facts about red pandas cuz y'all got me back on the redpanda!reader AU!

They sleep like 2/3 of the day and they sleep with their tails snuggled around their bodies like a blanket.

So like. Hybrid reader gets a lot sleepy during the day. Don't get me wrong, she's extremely efficient when she's awake but she'll often nap, anytime anywhere. On the plane back on the evac. While finishing a report, on the couch after a training and sometimes in the gym behind some training mats.

Random places anytime. When the boys don't know where you are they know you're probably sleeping. But the awful stress they got the first few times as they didn't know where you had decided to fall asleep this time was too much to bear.

"what's this..?" You ask with a raised eyebrow.

"it's a chipped tag." Price said. The man standing around, arms crossed.

"what?" You frowned.

"it'll track you at all times. In case we need to find you." Ghost said.

"you're gps tracking me??" You let out, now feeling slightly annoyed.

"don't get on the table... Calm down" Gaz reassured.

You felt your cheeks burn in embarrassment.

"listen bonnie. We spent 2 hours looking for you last time. You fell asleep in a tank!" Soap argued.

You opened your mouth but Price was faster.

"no. No discussion. Either that or your start sleeping in the dorms. Everytime."

"but... I don't control it... I get sleepy... And then I just nap."

"then I don't want to hear it."

Now you just keep it on you all the time. If it isn't a member of the base notifying Price of your new sleeping spot, they knew where you were.

Now the thing about all these little sleeping episodes. Is that what they started to understand. You needed those power naps. Being in the military didn't let you sleep as much as your hybrid body wanted to. So they often indulge you. You get cranky but mostly overworked. Tiredness eating at you if you go a full day without at least two power naps.

Compared to your kind, it's almost as if you didn't sleep at all!

Now they let you sleep in their arms, against their shoulders. You had been incredibly touched one day, as you were trying to focus through the blurriness of your tired eyes on an incident report, seeing the boys walk in with a blanket.

"You took a nap this afternoon?" Gaz questioned.

"on the couch lass! Nap nap!" Soap chimed.

Another thing is the way you sleep. You had first hid yourself away when you met the boys. Sleeping spots into dark corners or only your dorm. But the first time Gaz found you sleeping on an old office couch, he couldn't stop smiling. How you found this abandoned office was a mystery. But the way you were curled on the cushion, tail in between your legs as you held it like a pillow against you, face on the tip.

He bit his tongue, trying not to let a sound out at how cute he found you. He had left, only texting the team to let them know where you were.

Then it was on a particularly hard mission. The first time you had actually slept near the boys, nothing separating you. The small one room safehouse not giving anyone any privacy.

The boys had noticed your sleepy eyes closing themselves as they tried to chat about what they'd do once they'd be home, evac fishing them up the next morning.

You were eventually lulled to sleep by their deep voice, talking in a low tone. Wrapping yourself up again, tail around your curled body, ear twitching at the lack of their voices as they noticed it. The boys were in awe. Gaz admitted he had already witnessed it before. Soap immediately took a picture, Ghost smacking the back of his head before grunting.

"Send it to me..."

You were standing on a humvee three days later, having found out their phone wallpapers was a picture of you sleeping. Your red face as you scolded them from your high ground, the four men standing arms crossed looking up at you, too amused for your own taste.

[deadlydivergentgirl]

* The Art of Concealing Pain

Summary : If there is one thing Dean excels at, it is concealing his pain, whether physical or emotional, behind a carefully crafted mask of indifference. Beneath this façade of nonpchalance lies the weight of his true suffering, kept hidden from the world—and most of all, from those who matter to him the most, especially you..But this time, you're the one hiding your pain from him...

Pairing : Dean Winchester x female!reader

Warnings : Language, Graphic Depictions of Injury, Self-Neglect, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff

Following the topic "Hiding An injury"

Artist : T.kawthar

Word count : 1722

____________________________________________

Tonight's hunt had been rough, even more than usual. Leaning against a half-destroyed wall, Dean lets out a heavy sigh, surveying the scene in front of him: decapitated vampires lying in a pool of blood, their shocked expressions scattered across the floor. He drops his machete onto the ground and slides down the wall, hiding his face in his strong arms. Wiping out a nest filled with these horrors had never been as difficult as tonight.

Footsteps pull him out of his daze, and he looks up to meet your gaze. His own softens at the sight of you, despite your torn, blood-stained clothes doing nothing to hide your beauty. He gives you a tired smile, and you return it immediately, limping slightly as you move toward him. Dean notices you’re a bit pale, struggling to keep your balance.

“Are you okay ?” he asks suspiciously as he stands up, picking up his machete.

“I’m fine, just a little tired,” you reassure him as you pass by, acting as if nothing's wrong, though you’re still limping a little. Dean sighs but says nothing, assuming you’ve just twisted your ankle. You’d never been one to hide things like that from him. He throws one last glance behind him before heading out of the room, following you outside. He walks to the car, grabs a can of gasoline, and pours it around the nest, preparing to burn it down.

Dean finishes dousing the nest with gasoline before stepping back. He strikes a match and tosses it onto the line he’d traced with the fuel. Instantly, flames ignite, slowly reducing what was once an abandoned wooden house to nothing but ashes.

Without waiting for him, you walk heavily to the Impala and sink into the back seat. A sharp pain pierces your stomach as you try to lie down against the cold leather, biting your lower lip to stifle a groan threatening to escape. Once stretched out, you finally let yourself breathe. The pain is intense, and you've lost a lot of blood on that fight. All you want now is to get back to your motel room  as soon as possible and stitch up your wounds.

Dean soon joins you in the car, putting the weapons back in the trunk before slipping into the driver’s seat. His hazel-green eyes catch yours in the rearview mirror, a bit concerned that you're not sitting up front like you usually do.

"Hey, careful—you’re gonna scuff the leather with your boots," he teases, trying to ease the tension as he turns around fully. You remove your arm from over your eyes to give him an annoyed look, sighing with exhaustion. "Shut up, just let me rest," you snap, covering your eyes again with your arm.

Dean rolls his eyes at your attitude; you always get cranky when you're tired, but he finds it more amusing than anything else.

"Alright, alright, I didn’t say anything," he mutters under his breath as he starts the car. During the drive back, he glances at you every so often, stealing quick looks to check that you’re alright. You seem even more drained than usual, and it worries him, though he pushes those thoughts aside to focus on the road.

When you finally arrive back at the motel where you’re staying, Dean parks the car in the lot. He glances at you in the rearview mirror, watching as you sit up and prepare to get out. He steps out as well, leaning against the door.

"I'm a bit hungry; want to grab some burgers and a beer?"

“No, I’m not that hungry, just a little tired. I’ll take a shower and get some sleep. Go ahead without me.”

Dean raises an eyebrow at your response. You usually never turn down a good meal, even when you’re completely exhausted, but he doesn’t press further. Instead, he gives you a teasing smile. “Just dont burn the dawn while I’m gone,” he says before heading off.

You manage a small smile despite the stabbing pain in your stomach. After he leaves, you drag yourself into the bathroom. Struggling, you finally pull off your jacket, which falls heavily to the floor. A grimace of pain crosses your face as you try to remove your t-shirt, and large drops of blood fall as you toss it aside. The wound is more serious than you thought, though not fatal.

You grip the edge of the sink to steady yourself, startled by your own reflection—your face pale, dark circles under your eyes, and hands trembling slightly. You turn on the faucet to mask any sounds in case Dean returns, then take the first aid kit from the cabinet and empty its contents in front of you. A groan escapes from your lips as you begin disinfecting the wound, forcing yourself to breathe deeply and clench your teeth to continue treating it.

With slightly trembling hands, you begin threading the needle to stitch yourself up, as you’ve done hundreds of times before. Each stitch feels like torture; your head spins from the blood loss, but you push through, determined to finish before Dean returns.

Meanwhile, Dean walks calmly through the quiet night, the only sounds being his footsteps and the distant hum of passing cars. He stops at a vending machine, grabbing a sandwich. His thoughts drift back to you, realizing how oddly silent it feels without you by his side, usually complaining about the awful taste of vending machine food—right before eating half of it. He sighs to himself, grabs a few snacks for you, and a beer for himself, thinking you might want something to eat when you wake up.

Back at the motel, he sets his keys, wallet, and the bag of snacks on the table. His eyes fall on the empty bed, and then he hears the sound of running water. Assuming you’re still in the shower, he’s about to sit down when a muffled groan of pain catches his ear, coming straight from the bathroom. Without a second thought, he rushes over and pushes the door open.

His eyes widen as he sees you standing in front of the sink, struggling to stitch up your wound, teeth clenched, your face twisted in pain. Too focused on your task, you didn’t hear him enter—not until his large, calloused hand grabs your wrist, stopping the massacre you were inflicting on your raw flesh.

“Tell me I’m dreaming,” Dean growls, his face shadowed with anger and worry.

The abruptness of his grip makes you jump, and you turn, meeting his dark expression that sends a chill down your spine. Instinctively, you try to pull your wrist free from his grasp, but it’s no use.

“It’s just a scratch,” you insist, trying to dismiss the agony you’re in. “You don’t need to worry.”

A mocking sound escapes Dean’s throat as he tightens his grip on your wrist. “A scratch that needs stitches? Nice medical expertise,” he growls, before letting go of your wrist. “Give me the damn needle,” he demands in a tone that leaves no room for argument.

You roll your eyes at his stubbornness and shove the needle into his hand. “Fine, knock yourself out,” you say with an annoyed tone, watching as he gathers the supplies from the first aid kit.

“Sit on the toilet,” he orders, and you reluctantly comply, a small whimper escaping as you sit down. Dean joins you shortly after, and you bite back a groan of pain as he disinfects the wound again, his movements precise and careful despite the anger simmering beneath his skin.

“What the hell were you thinking?" He scolds you again

"Nothing at all, I just didn't want you to worry, that's all" you defend yourself

"You think I need your death on my conscience?” he retort in a hard tone, a hint of fear seeping through—fear of losing you.

His words sting, making you avert your eyes to avoid his gaze. You can’t find the words to respond, so you stay silent. You wanted to hide your weakness, to prove you could be as tough as he is. But the intensity of his stare makes you feel guilty, even vulnerable.

He makes another stitch, and you squirm slightly from the pain.

“Hey, careful,” you scold, breathing deeply to manage the discomfort.

“You wanted to play tough, so suck it up and shut up,” he says firmly.

“Oh, excuse me for not wanting to play damsel-in-distress and let you be the knight in shining armor,” you retort, openly mocking him.

Your sarcastic remark earns you a smirk from him, easing the tension between you two as a light silence settles, while he finishes taking care of your wound.

Once he finishes, his fingers linger slightly on your skin before he looks away with a sigh. Sitting there in just your bra and pants might not be the worst look in the world, despite all the tension in the air.

Without thinking, he slips off his flannel shirt and drapes it over you, then wraps an arm around your waist to steady you. Together, you leave the bathroom, with him almost carrying you to the couch, where he helps you sit down before joining you.

Instinctively, you rest your head on his shoulder, half-conscious, worn out from the hunt and all the pain that followed. Dean’s protective arm encircles your vulnerable form, and you snuggle slightly against him, his gaze fixed on the ceiling, his expression a bit more relaxed.

“You know, you’re really a master at hiding your pain from others,” he murmurs.

“Let’s just say I learned from the best,” you reply, making him smile.

“Let’s be clear—if you ever die from something like this, I’ll come kick your ass even in the afterlife,” he teases, though there’s a hint of seriousness in his tone.

A soft laugh escapes you, barely audible, and gradually exhaustion overtakes you as you drift to sleep against him. Dean watches you in silence for a moment, a faint smile on his lips. He reaches for the nearby blanket, gently covering you, then places a soft kiss on your forehead, his lips lingering there for a few moments before he buries his face in your hair, staying awake just a little longer to keep watch over you.

@jacklesversebingo

[originalartblog]

Tiny skk adventures asks!! tiny lore and stuff

fanart of any kind is always welcome. I always say that when people use others' ideas in fandom, it's much more nicer to say so, out of respect and community. And I want to see!! If it inspires your own twist on a similar idea, you're free to decide if you want to mention me or not, that's another subject.

The tinies are more like... mirror versions of their big selves that have been detached. Like daemons or fairies. They have the same life experiences, personalities, emotions, connections, likes or dislikes. Just... more raw? not innocent, but maybe a bit naive? less filtered? They are very small and everything is a lot. The way they react to things might not be an exact 1:1 with how the big ones would react, but it's a good indicator nonetheless.

As for your examples, wounds wouldn't transfer, but their reactions to being hurt would be basically the same. Being sick is different, since it could be contagious. In that case, Tinyzai would have a harder time hiding how bad he feels compared to big Dazai, so even if they are equally sick, it would be more obvious on Tinyzai. This logic could be extended to how they feel emotionally (if a situation makes them stressed, happy, sad, angry, etc.)

@dreamsicle262 - @oribun

First of all thank you for making me look up foxes purring because I didn't know that and it's great. They don't purr the proper way cats do (they just can't), but they do make a lot of happy noises, including a "purring" rumbling. The answer to both asks is yes they absolutely do have some corresponding animal characteristics. I have a comic about this with Tinyzai I've been meaning to finish.

@circuslemon

This is basically the first Tiny skk comic I made, with the cranky, tired and bored tinies were forcibly put in proximity and ended up all snuggled together. You saw how the big ones reacted. But the big guys would NEVER ask to cuddle on the couch. How embarrassing. They don't even have animal instincts or their smallness to blame it on. (that's another comic idea I need to get onto)

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

(tl;dr at the bottom)

this one is just petty, and i'm too much of a pussy to actually do anything (though my friends do say i absolutely should) but:

wibta for filing a complaint (?) against my table group for a class?

i take culinary for one of my classes, and it's one of the saving graces of my otherwise utterly shit high school experience. and while i do enjoy the class, i've recently been put in a group with people who do absolutely nothing and it's been frustrating me. for example, as of the day i am sending this, we made zucchini fritters. the dishwasher and i, the sous chef, did basically all the work and the manager and executive barely did anything unless we actively made them. i can understand the manager doing nothing, since their job is to basically just supervise the kitchen and they don't get to actually cook (worst role for me ngl) but the executive chef, who should be involved in the whole cooking lab, just sat around and watched. now don't get me wrong, i love the process of cooking and making stuff, but it's a little tiring when it's me doing most of the work while other people just grab their phones (they aren't supposed to get them until the lab is finished and the kitchen has been cleaned, for sanitary reasons) and idle about. anyways, the manager at least grated the zucchini while i worked with the green onions and garlic i guess, and during this the executive chef just kinda. stood there and watched? he always had earbuds in and i don't really know what he does, but i thought he'd at least be mixing the batter. he did not, and turns out he really was just standing there the whole time so i mixed the batter after i finished up with my veggies. while i was doing so, i also thought that they'd have put the zucchini in a bowl or a colander or something and started sweating it with the salt, but nope. the two of them just sorta went off to do their own things (stand/ lean against the counters and watch) and so i panicked and dumped the stuff into the nearest clean bowl, and i did manage to get the executive to salt it. then when it was time to squeeze the water out, it was again my job to do so, though i am currently missing about a quarter of my nail on one finger due to it snagging and ripping off. at this point, i think i should mention i have chronic back and joint pains and headaches, and i was starting to feel worse and worse, so i once again asked the executive to squeeze the water for a bit while i snagged a pain killer. when i come back, not even a minute later, he's just dumped the thing into the batter mix, instead of fully squeezing it like i asked him to. then he hands the thing to me and i mix it and then i have to fry it. by the time i start frying, all the other kitchens have finished, we have like half an hour till class is out, and chef puts on hell's kitchen for the class. me and the dishwasher (who offered to help throughout the lab occasionally. she's a godsend.) make them fry the rest (one fritter). while i did do the dishes after it doesn't count since it was as a thank you to the dishwasher who helped me. but other than that, it's like this for pretty much every labs except for when i'm dishwasher, and even then it's not too different since it just means i have to go back and forth between cooking and washing dishes.

i vented to a friend, who also takes a cooking class (catering) about this and he says i should email about it to chef. now this is where the question comes in. i don't feel good about reporting it to chef since i don't want to be a snitch. i, too, engage in listening to music and chilling, so i get the joy of doing these things. if i were to tell the teacher, though, they'd get in trouble for it and i don't think i want that. and i might be biased/ just cranky. last lab, which was hamburger and fries, the guy who was executive today threw away the fries because class was ending even though not everyone got their share of it yet. this instantly put him on the "i dont like this guy" list of mine, and on top of that, i was already feeling a bit cranky and gloomy since waking up, and it was only further worsened by whatever class cooked in the kitchen before my class, who leaves the dishes all dirty and gross every time without fail (specifically, it was all three pans sticky with grease and a glass mixing bowl encrusted with a white substance that set me off today) so i might just be being harsh on them. i usually enjoy getting to cook and actually do things, and thus i haven't had an issue with the lack of help from my tablemates (is that a word) until now, so this could just be me wrongfully directing my negative feelings to them and blaming them.

tl;dr: people in my group in culinary class do jackshit and make me deal with the brunt of the work except for this one girl, friend says i should report their asses to the chef

why i might be the asshole:

i was already cranky and might be just making them the subject of my anger and blaming them

i usually enjoy getting to cook anyways

i might be biased against one of them since he dumped potatoes before i could grab my full share

snitch

why i might not be the asshole:

should not have to do pretty much all the work and they get the same grade despite doing nothing

still have to do most of the work despite chronic back and join pains and headaches + injury

having to actively get them to help me is a pain in the ass since they just go right back to doing nothing after half assing whatever they were asked to do

sorry if this is a bit all over the place, i am bad at articulating my thoughts and the likes, and am currently being fueled by spite, pain, and caffeine.

(@sousanon so i get a notif when this posts)

[twoidiotwriters1]

one bed trope with usopp?

Yeeeeessss....

Danny and I really enjoy this one-Val

One Bed (Usopp x fem!reader)

Warnings: SMUT

Words: 1,940

“A Captain, you say?” The receptionist leans forward as Usopp keeps talking bullshit. 

As if this day couldn't get any worse, you have to wait for him to flirt with that lady who was so fucking rude to you when you first asked for a room. Meanwhile, your body shakes in cold as your wet clothes stick to your skin. 

“So, as you heard,” says Usopp leaning on the desk between, making the muscles of his arms pop. “My last adventure left me completely exhausted and that woman,” he points at you. The lady looks at you with a raised eyebrow. “Yeah, I just saved her from those evil men. So, she’s tired and she can get cranky, like we all do, right? Nothing personal, sweetheart.” 

She smiles, turning to him. “Well… I always had a soft spot for heroes like you, Captain Usopp,” she says caressing his arm. “So, I guess I can help you out,” She grabs a pair of keys from behind the desk and lifts them in front of him. 

“You’re really kind, sweetheart,” he smiles at her, taking the keys. 

“But,” he stops him before he can go. “If you want to add more action to your adventure… we can share a room. Mine is ready for you.” 

Now, the great Casanova Usopp is blushing and stuttering. You roll your eyes and approach them fast, snatching the keys.  

“Thanks!” You yell at the receptionist as you walk away. 

“Hey! Wait for me!” Usopp says behind you. 

“You have to be joking,” you whine staring at the shitty room of the shitty hotel.  

Just a basic, old, dirty, and stinky room with a bathroom, table, two chairs, a crappy kitchen and… just one bed. Before Usopp can say anything, you walk to the bathroom to shower. 

*** 

You close your eyes as the water falls over your body, relaxing your muscles and cleaning the dirt and blood from it.  

This is the moment when all the situations of earlier come to your mind. How your crew had to separate from each other, your enemies not having mercy on you, the rain never stopping and that bitch lady. Your thoughts are interrupted by a knock and the door being opened. 

“Hey, uh—sorry” you hear his movements. “I’m leaving some clothes for you and I—uh… I couldn’t find women's clothes, but I thought—uh…” he rambles nervously.  

“Thanks,” you answer. He leaves without saying anything else.  

You dress in a big men’s shirt, pants, and socks. As Usopp takes a shower, you sit in the middle of the bed and stay still until he finishes. 

“Uh… Are you okay?”  

You scoff. “Do I look okay?” You snap at him. 

“Yeah, Okay. I get it. I know you aren’t but don’t think being mean to me will make you feel any better, Y/N,” he pouts. “If you didn’t notice, I’m in the same situation as you so…” 

He’s right, you think. Now you feel even worse, and this is just the final drop for your sanity. 

“I’m sorry,” you say as your voice breaks. “You’re right. I’m such a bitch like the lady from downstairs,” you sob. 

“Shit, no, no, no, it’s okay,” he quickly sits in front of you and takes your hands. “I didn’t say bitch.” 

“But you thought about it!” You squeal. “I don’t blame you,” you clean your nose. “I’m so selfish and take it on you. I’m sorry, Usopp. It’s not your fault and bitching about it just makes things worse!” 

“No, please don’t cry,” he moves closer to carry you to his lap and hug you tight. “I didn’t mean it. I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t apologize, it’s all my fault,” You hide your face on his chest. 

“No, it’s not yours either. It was just a shitty day, shhh,” he coos. “But it’s over now, okay? And we’re fine, we’re alive! And I’m 100% sure that the others are too.” 

“You think so?” 

He thinks for a bit. “Maybe an 80%—If Zoro’s alone, he probably got lost.” That makes you giggle, making him sigh in relief. 

You both stay like that for a while. “Thank you, Usopp.” 

“No problem, sweetheart,” he whispers. 

You frown and make a face as you lean back to him. 

“Ew, don’t call me that,” you chuckle. 

“What? Why?” He smiles confused. 

“You called the lady like that,” you cringe. “By the way, when did you learn to flirt?” 

You always saw Usopp as the one who gets all nervous when he tries to date someone. 

He laughs. “Well, I asked Sanji for a little help. Honestly, I didn’t think it’d work, but...” he raises a brow. “I’m good at it.” 

You roll your eyes as you stand up from his lap. “If you’re so sure, then go with her,” you say as you walk to the tiny mirror on the wall and try to brush your hair with your fingers. 

“What?” 

You shrug. “She offered her—I mean, her room.” 

“But I don’t want to be with her,” he stands up. “The reason I flirted was to get us a room,” he explains. 

For some reason, that makes you smile proudly. “Okay.”  

“I...” he sighs and grabs your arm to make you turn to him. “I’m not like that. I wouldn’t do that, I mean. We’re on a mission and, I wouldn’t let you alone, at least not in this awful room.”  

You make a face. “She was quite beautiful, though. I wouldn’t blame you if you, you know,” You shrug. “I mean, she was a total bitch, but I can’t deny she was beautiful.” 

“She’s not my type,” he chuckles. That makes you turn back to him raising a brow. 

“You have a type?” 

“Uh… well, I guess. I dunno, maybe I just think—ugh! Forget it. I’m gonna shut my mouth for good,” he whines embarrassed. You giggle. “You’re enjoying this, don’t you?” He smiles shyly. 

“A little.” 

“Why? It’s not like you don’t have a type, I bet you like guys like Sanji or Zoro,” he says like it’s a dumb thing. 

You shake your head. “Actually, no.” 

“What?” you shrug. “Well, how did your last boyfriend look like?” 

“Why are you so curious about that?” 

“I—I’m not. I just, c’mon it’s a simple question. A girl as beautiful as you must have lots of guys waiting for you.” 

You blush and smile. “You think I’m beautiful?” 

“Of course, you’re beautiful! Are you kidding? You’re the most amazing, lovely, beautiful, smart woman I’ve ever met!” He looks like he said that without thinking. “I—uh...” 

You look at him and nod. “I believe you,” your eyes go down to his lips, but you immediately pull away, afraid of your thoughts about your friend. “So,” you change the subject. “How are we gonna do this one-bed thing?” 

“Oh, I can sleep on the floor. There’s no problem,” he stretches his arms. “It’s not the first time, you know.” 

You giggle but then you make a face. “But this floor is dirty and who knows what kind of insects you’ll find?” 

“I’m not scared of bugs.”  

“Last time you saw a ladybug on your arm and practically cried about it.” 

He blushes embarrassed. “I did not! Captain Usopp is not afraid of anything!” 

You giggle. “Just come already,” You make a sign for him to get into the bed as you pull the sheets down and lay down.  

“A-are you sure?” He stands up. 

“Sure… it’s not like we’re gonna do something else than sleep, right?” You think about it and blush. 

“Yeah, you’re right,” he jumps in and laughs nervously. He lays down at your side. 

You both stay face-to-face with anxious smiles. 

“Good night, Usopp,” you whisper looking at his eyes. 

“Tomorrow will be better,” he nods. “Good night, doll.” 

*** 

The truth is that you can’t sleep, no matter how many times you turn around the bed. His presence makes you uneasy and for some reason you— 

“Can’t sleep either?” he whispers. You turn back to face him, but this time you’re closer to him. You can feel his breath and your nose brushes his. 

“Usopp, I...” 

“I’m sorry,” he says before grabbing you by the neck and pulling you to his lips. You whine in surprise but kiss him back immediately. 

“Don’t be,” you mumble pulling back. You smile and he does it too. Now you lean forward willingly and kiss him. 

The kiss gets more intense as he grabs your waist, keeping you as close as possible. Then he moves to be on top of you. 

“Is this...” he breathes. “Is this okay?” 

“Yeah, please. I want you, Usopp,” you practically moan.  

“Shit,” he says before kissing you. He can’t believe what’s happening. But he doesn’t want to overthink it. At least not now. He starts to kiss your jawline to your neck. 

“Usopp...” you moan. 

“My name sounds so perfect when you say it,” he chuckles. 

You smile as you grab his shirt and try to pull it off. He sits back to help you and then you two undress each other. You forget about the fact that your early clothes, with your underwear, are still wet somewhere in the room. You flush hard, begging for the night to cover everything. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he kisses you again. “I can’t believe...” Kiss. “We’re...” Kiss. “Doing this.” Kiss. 

“Why?” You giggle. 

“I never thought I had a chance with you,” he confesses. 

“Why?” You frown. “If you’re the most amazing...” You kiss him. “Strong...” Kiss. “Brave...” Another kiss. “And kind guy I’ve ever met.” Both of you laugh. “Stop thinking, Usopp. I want you, I need you.” He groans in response. 

You take his hand and guide him down on you. His fingers move slowly, testing you.  

“Fuck,” you moan when he touches your clit. He takes that as a good sign, but he wants more, so he boldly moves and start kissing your inner thighs. “Usopp?” 

“Don’t worry, just guide me,” he smiles eager to make you feel good. He takes your hand and puts it over his head as he dips down and kisses your core. You moan louder this time. 

He kisses, licks, and tastes like you’re his favorite dessert, he obeys you in every movement of your hand and when you tell him what you want. He makes you see stars and makes you scream in pleasure. 

“Usopp, please. Come up here!” You whine. 

“But you—” 

“It’s okay, I need more, please,” He obeys and returns to your upper body to sloppy kiss you. “Usopp...” 

“I got you, baby,” he moans as he guides himself to you. 

Both of you moan at the slow start thrust. He takes a moment for you to adjust, but then, his thrust becomes harder and faster. 

“You feel so good, so pretty, so perfect,” he praises like a mantra. 

Your hands travel all over his body, you want to feel everything of him. “You’re so deep, so good,” you mumble then continue to moan his name over and over. 

“I’m not… gonna last...” he grunts. 

You shake your head. “Neither will I, please, keep going.” 

With a couple of more thrusts you finish, Usopp stares at you in awe as he finishes too. He falls on you, hugging your waist and you caress his hair and play with his thick locks. 

“Is this a good time to say that I’m so in love with you?” He asks making you giggle. 

“Just if I can confess that I’m falling for you too.” 

He chuckles and kisses your skin.  

[jacksdinonuggets]

What if durring a weekend permaregressor vaggie waking up feeling in the infant mindset crying and wet as carmilla walks in her room confused at first not seeing vaggie trying to get out of her crib before picking up her baby angel and vaggie clings to mami all morning/day wanting love and safety and crys anytime mami puts her down to change or to feed her? (Sorry, it's a lot rereading your permaregressor vaggie stuff cause its so fun!)

Sure! I actually got a lot of motivation for this and wrote it within like 45 minutes.

Carmilla had just finished putting a toddler-regressed Vaggie to bed. It wasn’t rare that her daughter would regress to 3 or 4 before bedtime. She would be so cranky but tired that she’d just move down a couple ages. It was still a bit of a struggle though, since Vaggie didn’t want to sleep in the crib, wear her pullup, or sleep without mama. But after lots of compromising, she finally got her to bed. Hopefully the morning wouldn’t be as difficult.

Carmilla woke up to the crying of her little at 6 AM on a Saturday morning. She quickly shot up from her king-sized bed and ran into the nursery. She opened the door but got confused when she didn’t see Vaggie. Then, she saw a little red sock poking out from the corner and walked towards it. Vaggie was sitting in the corner, crying her eyes out.

“Shh, its okay, bebe. What happened?” Carmilla asked, picking her up and cradling her in her arms.

“W- woke nd- nd ‘ou wewen’t hewe!” She cried clinging to her Mami as if her life depended on it. Vaggie only was this clingy when she was in her baby mindset.

“Mija, can you tell me how old you feel?” Carmilla asked. Vaggie whimpered and held up 10 fingers. This confused the overlord because there was no way she was acting 10 years old. But she had another idea what it could mean.

“Is that in…months, Bebe?”

Vaggie nodded, curling up and continuing to cry in her arms. Carmilla sighed, and slowly rocked and swayed Vaggie, trying to help her calm down before changing her. She was very close to leaking in the pull-up she had put her in. 

Luckily, she had calmed down with a few cuddles and singing from her mami. However, right when Carmilla placed her down on the changing table, the waterworks started up again and Vaggie started squirming. It was clear that she still wanted to be held but Carmilla really needed to change her or she could get a rash.

It took so long to even get the pull-up off of her. She was being very difficult and Carmilla really wished that her other daughters weren’t away, spending the weekend at their friends place. When she finally got the pull-up off of her, she unfolded a diaper and tried to place it under her. It was a tad bit easier but then she needed to clean her, which took the longest. After that, she got an idea. She walked over to the crib and picked up her Koala stuffy and handed it to her. Finally, she managed to calm down enough for her to sprinkle some powder on and get the diaper taped up. She didn’t even try to get her changed out of her nightshirt.

She washed her hands with a wipe and then picked her back up. Vaggie immediately calmed down and snuggled up to her Mama. Carmilla sighed. This was gonna be a rough day.

When she brought Vaggie downstairs to get started on breakfast, she started screaming when Carmilla placed her down in the highchair. Even though she was in front of her, trying to feed her oatmeal, she did not want to calm down. She made it known that she wanted to be held.

So Carmilla sat down in one of the chairs and took Vaggie out of her’s. She set her down in her lap and started feeding her like that. It was like nothing ever happened. Vaggie turned into the happy baby she usually was when regressed. 

Once she was finished with her meal, Carmilla burped her. She let her sit on her lap while Carmilla finished her meal. Luckily, she was very good while she ate. When she was done, the overlord sat on the couch with her little one in her lap and watched some television. Vaggie cuddled and snuggled her mami for so long that Carmilla was surprised she hadn’t gotten bored yet. 

But finally, after an hour or two, Vaggie slid off of her and began drawing on a piece of paper. Immediately, Carmilla got up and stretched her legs, which had fallen asleep. Vaggie mistook her stretching for getting up and leaving and started to whimper, her lip quivering and eyes glossy.

“No, no, Mija, I’m not leaving, I was just stretching. I’m still here with you,” Carmilla sat back down and gently rubbed her back. Vaggie seemed to calm down after this and continued to draw.

Throughout the day, Vaggie would barely let Carmilla be 6 feet away from her. She truly would be horrible at social distancing. Luckily though, she let her have some privacy and let her go to the bathroom. She didn’t want to let her mami go, but knew it would be nice to let her. Even though Vaggie was extremely clingy, that didn’t make Carmilla stop loving her to death.

[reallygroovyninja]

Here's a fluffy prompt. Omega Lexa is sore, cranky, and stressed from her pregnancy so Alpha Clarke decides to take care of Lexa and help her relax

Lexa eased herself onto the couch, a soft groan escaping her lips as she struggled to find a comfortable position. At 32 weeks pregnant, everything felt sore and awkward. She rubbed her swollen belly, feeling the baby kick in response. "I know, little one," she murmured. "We're both ready for this to be over."

Clarke emerged from the kitchen, two mugs of tea in hand. She set them down on the coffee table and sat beside Lexa, her brow furrowed with concern. "Rough day?" she asked, tucking a stray curl behind Lexa's ear.

Lexa leaned into the touch, savoring the moment of tenderness. "I just feel so useless," she admitted. "I can't do anything without getting tired or sore. And I'm scared, Clarke. What if I'm not ready to be a mom?"

Clarke wrapped her arms around Lexa, pulling her close. "Hey, you're not useless. You're growing our baby, and that's the most amazing thing in the world." She pressed a kiss to Lexa's temple. "And you're going to be a fantastic mom. We're in this together, remember?"

Lexa nodded, blinking back tears. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

"Well, you'll never have to find out," Clarke declared. "Now, how about we get you more comfortable? I have an idea."

Clarke led Lexa to their bedroom, where the familiar scent of lavender and clean linen enveloped them. She helped Lexa undress, her fingers lovingly caressing the taut skin of her omega's belly. "Lie down," Clarke instructed, arranging pillows to support Lexa's body.

Lexa sighed as she sank into the mattress, the cool sheets a balm against her skin. Clarke climbed in beside her, a bottle of lavender oil in hand. "Remember when we went to that couples massage class?" she asked, a playful glint in her eye.

Lexa laughed, the sound warm and rich. "How could I forget? You nearly fell off the table trying to copy the instructor."

Clarke grinned, pouring a bit of oil into her palm. "Well, I've been practicing." She rubbed her hands together, the soothing scent of lavender filling the air. "Just relax, baby. Let me take care of you."

Clarke's hands were warm and sure as they glided over Lexa's skin, kneading away the knots and tension. She started at Lexa's shoulders, working down her back with firm, even pressure. Lexa felt herself melting into the mattress, the stress of the day fading away.

As Clarke's hands moved lower, Lexa let out a contented hum. "You're really good at this," she murmured, her words slightly slurred with relaxation.

Clarke chuckled. "I told you, I've been practicing." She leaned down, pressing a kiss to Lexa's back. "I want to be able to do this for you whenever you need it, especially once the baby comes."

Lexa felt a surge of love and gratitude wash over her. She reached for Clarke's hand, lacing their fingers together. "I can't wait to meet our little girl," she whispered. "To see you hold her for the first time."

Clarke squeezed Lexa's hand, her eyes shining with unshed tears. "Me too, baby. Me too."

They stayed like that for a while, Clarke's hands soothing away the aches and pains of pregnancy, Lexa drifting in a haze of contentment. When Clarke finished, she curled around Lexa, one hand resting protectively on her belly.

"Thank you," Lexa murmured, her voice heavy with sleep. "For everything."

Clarke smiled against Lexa's shoulder. "Always," she promised. "I love you, Lexa. More than anything."

[sanjisblackasswife]

Zoro Taking Care of You (FLUFF)

@roronoaswifey ❤️

Black Fem Reader

CW: Established Relationship, Mentions of stomach pains ig, Clueless YetSoft!Zoro

I dont usually like posting on Sundays but why tf nat.

“Where is she?”

Zoro kept mumbling through the entire Sunny looking for you. You usually were under him or he under you when he woke up from his afternoon nap, but you weren’t and it made the boy a bit upset.

Cranky at best.

Maybe even pissy. But don’t tell him that, he would never admit he relies on you to take a proper nap.

“What the hell could she be?”

He grumbled around, heavy feet hitting the wodden floors of the entire ship until he back tracked hearing your voice from a cracked door.

“He—“

There you were, in the fetal position, holding your tummy, your legs keep moving up and down against each other as if that could possibly soothe the consistent pain you’ve been feeling for what seems like HOURS.

You looked a mess, felt a mess, and seeing your big boyfriend look at you with a contorted expression didnt help.

“Zooooooo.” You whined throwing your arm up weakly, motioning him to come closer, you felt a bit conflicted though, you hated to have your man see you like this, so weak, so helpless, and just wanted to die at that point.

Little did you know Zoro hated whenever you got like this every month.

He usually keeps his distance, you’re a bit moodier and don’t like to be bothered, but this was different, you really were in a different kind of pain and without much words being exchanged he cautiously walked over to you, his big warm palm rested on your thigh.

“You um…you okay?”

“Do I look fuckin—-“ You couldn’t even finish your irritated snap back a sharp pain already knocked the wind out of you, causing you to spill out a whimper.

Zoro groaned, rolling his eyes, not because he didn’t care but because even in discomfort you still wanna be a little smart ass.

“Move over.”

“I can’t….ZOOOO!”

Without thought you felt his big bare strong arms curl around your body, to lift you and place you on the other side of the bed, throwing off his shirt Zoro wraps his arms around you again to place on his soften chest.

You wasn’t sure why, maybe it was his scent, the way his hand was rested on your arm rubbing up and down so softly against your skin, or maybe it was the small forehead kiss against your soft curls, but Almost in an instant you felt like crying, and due to your hormones that’s what you did.

“WHA-WHY ARE YOU CRYING I DIDN’T HURT YOU!?”

His panic ALMOST made you laugh, but you held it in to look up at his worried eyes, with the last bit of strength you had you touched his flustered cheek to kiss it. Feeling his face relax a bit from the sheer fear that was in his face.

“You didn’t. Thank you…”

Zoro looks at your tired eyes. Your body was used to sleeping against his that his warm immediately made you sleepy, he gently pushes your head back down into his neck.

Your boyfriend turns to your mirror beside your bed, seeing your sleeping figure, one of your legs over his, like you guys usually sleep, face lightly frowning due to subtle pains arising again, he looks at your hand pressed against your lower tummy and replaces it with his giant warmer one. He notices your face starting to soothe and he smirks, rubbing small circles against you.

He kept staring at you. Your face so soft, so gorgeous in his eyes, dammit he didn’t know what to do with you, if he could he’d just keep you inside his pocket to protect you from everything, and if he could; your cramps as well.

He looked back down, your lips just inches from his he notices your pretty plumped lips , he just couldn’t help himself from giving it a light peck, cheeks beginning to turn red hoping you wont catch him in the act as he still rubs your belly.

“Feel better, mama…”

[2gayy2functionnn]

"Why are you awake?" Rejanis if you need some motivation! Just read the next chapter of 'Don't say Forever' amazing work! <3

First off thanks love!! Second here it is :)

Ever since the bus accident, regina had reoccurring nightmares that would leave her gasping for air in the middle of the night. As much as she tried to avoid it, it never ended. Not even when she was at sleepovers much to her chagrin.

She woke up and tiptoed around her friends who were sprawled all around the couch and floors. She looked back at the small mattress on the ground where her girlfriend was laying when she fell asleep. It was empty. Pulling out her phone and checking the time she realized she needed to get them both back to bed.

Not before taking a photo of damian and aaron though. Who were curled up on the couch, cuddling, damian’s mouth wide open as his head tilted back. Regina stifled a laugh, Cady would love that, before walking out of the living room and into the kitchen.

She grabbed a glass of water and led herself out the back door and into the small garage. Regina opened the door and walked in slowly smiling.

The short brunette sat on the stool a brush in her hand and biting her lip as she stared at her painting.

“Hey” regina said causing the girl to jump a bit looking back.

“Hey” she said back before turning back to her painting.

“Jay it’s late, why are you awake?” Regina asked walking up to the girl and crouching next to her. She smiled as she wiped a smear of blue paint off the girls cheek.

“I could say the same to you!” Janis shot back.

“Touche, but i’ve been up for 5 minutes and plan on going right back to sleep. I assume you haven’t even gone to sleep yet” Regina says as janis grumbles.

“It’s fine, i really have to finish this.” Janis says lightly shaking regina’s hand off her shoulder.

“You can do it tomorrow.”

“I thought we were going to the mall with everyone tomorrow” Janis says looking up at the blonde her eyes softening.

“Me and you, can stay home. If you want of course”

Janis’s brows unfurrowed as she looked back up at the blonde. She shrugged.

“I need to grab stuff at the mall anyway so it’s fine. Just let me finish this tonight” Janis said, her stubbornness coming back to her.

“Jay, I know you think your nocturnal but you get really cranky when you don’t sleep”

“I don’t get cranky!” Janis scoffs, glaring at her girlfriend.

Regina raised an eyebrow and crosses her arms.

“Just go to sleep Gi” Janis shakes her head and turn away.

“Janis” Regina says.

Janis looks up at her wide eyes, “you said my real name” she mumbled quietly.

“Yeah i did, because im tired and i dont want to deal with you cranky tommorow. So get your little ass to bed” Regina says leaning down and into her girlfriend’s face.

“Come on regina! I’m not a kid, i can stay up late if i want to”

“staying up late was 12 when we watched tv! Not painting at 3:45 in the morning” Regina says narrowing her eyes at the girl.

Janis rolls her eyes and turns back to the easel, pushing a strand of hair behind her ear and setting her brush down for a second to judge the painting again.

Regina lets out a sigh that whistles through her teeth.

“Janis seriously, last warning” Regina says her soft tone fading.

“I’m not a kid, just go to sleep if you’re so tired” Janis says with an eye roll. Regina’s frown turn to a smirk as she leans down and grabs her small girlfriend. An arm around her waist she hoists her up and off the stool.

Janis will deny forever that she let out a squeal. Regina heard it though and laughs out loud.

“Hey seriously!” Janis shouts squirming as she hoisted off her stool and set back on her feet on the floor. Regina grins and kisses her cheek before taking the girls apron off and spinning her around.

“Go” she says slapping her butt softly.

“Hey!” Janis shouts, spinning back around angrily and shoving a bony finger in regina’s face.

“I’m not tired and i have things to finish.”

“Janis, seriously. I love you, but please don’t make me manhandle you back to bed”

“Your back couldn’t handle it” Janis scoffs, Regina raises an eyebrow again and janis realizes her mistake too late.

She squeals again as regina leans down and wraps an arm under her knees and back hoisting her into her arms and starting the walk back to the house.

“No Gi!” Janis protests squirming in her arms.

“I told you so many times to go back to bed” The blonde says rolling her eyes as she opens the door back into the kitchen with her back.

“Ok ok! I’m sorry! Don’t hurt your back!” Janis says still squirming.

“Jay” Regina says stopping and looking down at the girl in her arms “my back is fine, you aren’t really heavy jay, I can carry you just fine” She finished grinning softly at the girl.

Janis grumbles at that but constantly stops squirming and just crosses her arms.

“sleep” regina says dropping the girl on the mattress as she lets out a squeal flailing as she falls. Janis glares up at her before flipping her off. Regina chuckles quietly before settling down next to her and pulling the blanket over her.

Janis leans forward and kisses regina softly. “Sorry Gi, I just really need to get this done”

“I know baby, you can get it done when it’s not 3 am though, and if you really want to go to the mall, Than you can come back after and work on it from after dinner until 9 ok?”

“fine” janis agrees letting her shoulders drop and leaning against the blonde picking at the chipped paint under her fingernails.

“I love you” She says softly. Regina smiles and pulls her into her side.

“I know, now sleep before I have to knock you out” Regina says with a grin. They curl up into each other and finally the both of them sleep without problems.

[anamoon63]

Hi guys, I am writing this in case anyone wonders why I have been kind of MIA lately. No, I haven't forgotten you, but I have had a difficult week, more than a difficult week, I have been through a real ordeal. Where or how it started it's a long story which I don't have the time or the energy to tell, so I'll just share a brief chronology of what happened during this past week.

Friday May 3 - I turned in my finished work and set out to do my sims posts, play and rest for the weekend since more work would be coming my way on Monday.

Saturday May 4 - My husband came down with the flu, I spent most of the day with him in the emergency room.

Sunday May 5 - I spent it taking care of my husband, who fortunately no longer had a fever. I barely slept two hours at night giving care and medication.

Monday 6 May - My birthday, we couldn't go out for dinner as usual, so we celebrated at home.

Tuesday, May 7 - My son comes down with the flu, too, another afternoon in the ER and sleepless night caring for him and bringing down his fever.

Wednesday, May 8 - My son starts to feel better, and begins to recover very quickly. I start working on the following translations, at the same time I take care of both my husband and my sick son, do food, laundry, order home medicines, and all kinds of small chores, including disinfecting things. It's like going back to 2020.

Thursday, May 9 - My husband no longer has a fever but does have a cough that won't go away and minor problems with his asthma.

Friday, May 10 - Mother's Day, my son was feeling fine, my husband still had a cough, and had a doctor's appointment at noon, when he returned, we celebrated at home just like on my birthday, I spent the rest of the day working, and juggling a thousand other things. In the evening my daughter started to feel sick, but still no fever.

Saturday, May 11 (yesterday) - My daughter woke up with a fever, another visit to the ER. She was prescribed flu medicine, painkillers and rest, and sent home.

And that's my odyssey so far. On top of it all, from Wednesday through Saturday we were in the middle of a heat wave with temperatures of 37ºC with real feel of up to 45ºC; at night we get a "cooler" temperature of 29ºC. So imagine a person with a fever of 38 ºC and with this heat, obviously it's not of much help.

Surprisingly, I haven't gotten sick so far, but I'm not claiming victory. I have been taking care of my family for a week, sleeping two or three hours a night, getting up at different times to check on them, or give them medicine. I don't have time for getting sick! Lol. Thankfully, everyone is better and last night for the first time in a week I was able to sleep straight through. Honestly, I don't need many hours of sleep, but I am routinely and usually I am in bed a 11 pm and up at 8 am every day, so all this did upset my sleep cycle a little bit.

Anyway, that is the reason why I wasn't here much, since the whole day I was too busy, and at night I was so tired all I wanted was to go to bed. I apologize if I've fallen behind on your updates, I'm not ignoring you in any way, I just didn't have the strength or the time, not even to play The Sims. If I did, it was just a little free play to distract myself.

Last week I told you that I was juggling a lot of things, well now I have even more things, lol, at times I feel really exhausted, and even a little cranky from lack of sleep, the first few days my feet and legs hurt so much from going back and forth, but I'm fine, healthy, and in good spirits. Today I believe, as never before, that the universe does not send you more than you can handle.

At this point my family is already in recovery, if I don't get sick too, it's likely by I'll be able to get back to my simming routine. Now, if I do get sick, I hope to recover as quickly as the others. Whatever happens, I'll be around. Know that, even if I don't comment, I read you, and I am with you, especially with those who are going through difficult times of any kind.

Ok, I said to myself this was going to be a short post, but I made a wall of text instead (for a change). My apologies if it's written in a sloppy or confusing way, I just wanted to write it quickly to let you know where I have been and what has been going on with me these days. I hope you are all well, please take care of yourselves, health is a treasure that can be lost at any moment, the flu is a nasty disease, we must never let our guard down and forget to take the necessary measures to prevent it.

Last, but not least, I want to thank all of you who have mentioned me, tagged me, sent me asks and/or stars to my inbox, commented and/or liked what few posts I could do these days, I appreciate it very much and I'll try to reply to you as soon as I can, though I've fallen so far behind that I don't know if I'll be able to find your mentions in my notifications. In any case, thank you very, very much to all of you for thinking about me in my absence. 💗 I'll see you soon, hopefully, with more sim adventures, stay tuned!