Regina & Henry | All The Little Things: A shoulder to hold onto

How to Increase your Motivation to Study

1. Reward yourself for studying and working on assignments. However, you need to do this after you’ve done everything you planned to do!

2. Study with others (But make sure you work and don’t just socialise.)

3. Keep your long-term goals in sight. They’ll slip through your fingers if you don’t do the work.

4. Cut out distractions. If you’re surrounded by things that you’d rather do than work, you’ll probably abandon your boring studying.

5. Develop an interest in the subjects you’re studying. That way, the work won’t be such a drag.

6. Take regular breaks. These should be at logical points in your work. That makes it easier to resume your studying, and to remember what you were working on before.

7. Work somewhere bright, warm and comfortable.

8. Set reasonable study goals for each session.

9. Start early in the day at weekends, and early in the evenings on week days. The longer you put it off your studying, the harder and more onerous it seems.

10. Just do it. It’s surprisingly rewarding to do something that’s tough!

Small Lilo comfort fic, because I felt like shit on Sunday and needed a pick-me-up. Tour era (whichever tour you like best).

Louis doesn’t open his eyes when the bed sheets he’s made himself a cocoon of are pulled away and someone awkwardly slips into his bunk, although he does uncurl his body, making more room for the intruder to squeeze themselves into. His head won’t stop pounding.

“Hey,” Liam whispers, gently stroking Louis’s temple and jaw - to think a couple years back he flinched anytime someone touched him; Louis would grin, if everything didn’t hurt. “Was wondering where you’d gone.”

“Headache,” is all Louis says. Liam’s clothes are crispy cold from his trek outside and Louis presses his face against Liam’s chest with a sigh; the coolness is wonderful against his forehead.

He grunts when Liam shifts away from him, wrapping an arm around his waist just in case Liam’s got delusions about leaving, but all Liam does is press his cold cold lips against Louis’s forehead, right in the middle of his eyebrows, and that feels even better than his sweater did.

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Blindsided AU: Leo Drabbles

Pairing(s): N/A
Rating: G
Words: 1731
Warnings: Blind!Leo, hurt/comfort, brotherly/family fluff <3

(@dashtumbles @sassatello)

Leo sighs to himself as the sounds of his brothers skating/riding around the lair reach his ears, their whoops and yells echoing throughout the underground chamber. Retracting his cane, he slips it into his belt and heads towards the kitchen to help Master Splinter with the tea.

“Check me out! Extreme green!”

“You think that’s good? Check this!”

“Aw, no fair Donnie, you tricked out your bike again?”

“Shell yeah I did!”

Leo smiles to himself, shaking his head fondly as he toes the kitchen door and steps into the room. His hand glides along the kitchen bench as one of his brothers whoosh past the entrance. At least they’re having fun.

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Sam x Female Reader

Summary: Sam’s going through the trials and you’re the only thing that gives him comfort. Set during season eight.  

Warning: smut, unprotected sex, angsty sex, depression (kind of), a smidge of painful sex 

Word Count: 800+

“Baby,” you murmur as Sam tugs desperately at your panties, slipping them off your legs and throwing them to the floor where they join the rest of your clothes. He hasn’t said much, just came home with a familiar sadness that seems to consume him from time to time. He pulled you into the bedroom and immediately began to disrobe, silently whipping your shirt over your head before yanking his belt out of its loops, “you okay?”

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TAURUS - In a Nutshell

Taurus is the one who has immense perseverance, even when others have given up, the Taurus rages on. Solid and persistent, just like the bull, which is Taurus’ well-suited symbol. Taurus’s have a well-known reputation for being stubborn, which is not necessarily a bad thing. The stubborn streak can cause Taurus to butt heads and conflict with other strong character types. Taurus are not fond of change. They like the familiar and routine comfort of life. Taurus is easy going and not one to pick a fight but should some poor souls attempt to provoke Taurus, the wrath will be known, for they have a temper underneath the calm surface. Taurus are very responsive to their surroundings. They like decorations, colour, anything that appeals to all the senses. Taurus like possessions and the Taurus home is nicely decorated with lots of things. Taurus are down to earth, they do not like gaudy, flashy or over the top things. They prefer comfortable and creative settings and objects. Taurus likes security, in every aspect of their lives from home, to love, to career. Taurus can be secretive, opinionated and stingy. Taurus tend to be self-indulgent and lazy, Taurus are master procrastinators of the astrology zodiac! They do however have a strong, persistent drive that comes to life when they chose, and no one would ever know that they are lazy. The secret to this is that their laziness is pushed aside when it comes to themselves.

@lesbianslovelouis, I’m actually in tears right now remembering all of the difficult decisions my family and I had to make when my dad was trying his very best not to die of cancer, while severely immunocompromised. I doubt you’ll read this and I doubt even more that you’ll stop and think about what you are saying, but I’m begging you to please keep your and your anons’ speculation (and words like “awful”) away from Louis, Jay, and how his family handled any single decision this past year. 


Part One

Part Two

Part Three

Part Four

Part Five

Part Six

After your little brawl at the house party last week, things were a little shaky for about a hour or so. Kells was really pissed that someone had the balls to say something like that in his house.

But after that things were back to their normal hectic ways.The boys were the boys, they drank, smoked, and skated like usual.

You however had broken out of your usual Netflix schedule.

You had somehow, between constant requests for nudes, managed to meet a really nice guy on Tinder.

His name was Evan and on paper he was the perfect guy for you.

He was only a year older, he was attractive, he had a job and was chasing a career in computer design. He seemed to respect that you were a virgin and seemed to be purely fascinated by it. He asked questions and you answered.

The conversation was easy and you had began to feel comfortable enough to set up a little lunch date.

So you were currently getting dressed, and panicking the whole time.

This shirt is either too conservative or the skirt was too revealing. Maybe a dress? But you cant sit properly in a dress.

You groaned as you flopped on your clothes covered bed, then you saw it.

The perfect outfit. 

A black t-shirt, camouflage design pants and black combat boot styled platforms.

You threw on the outfit and quickly did your makeup, nothing crazy or extravagant, just eye shadow and lipstick. 

You gave yourself one last check in the mirror to make  sure nothing was out of place.

Satisfied with your appearance you left your room and headed downstairs, it was noon, so most of the guys were still sleep.

So you weren’t expecting to see Kells on the couch playing 2K.

‘Hey, where you going all dressed up?’ he asked as he kept playing.

You look around to make sure no one else is awake before you almost giddily sat next to Kells.

‘I’m going on a date.’ you smiled.

Kells paused the game and turned to you fully.

‘Really?’ he asked.

‘Yeah, I met him on Tinder, and he knows that I’m…you know, and he’s totally OK with it.’ you said excitedly.

‘Oh wow, really? I mean that’s awesome, I hope it goes well.’ he said.

‘I’m meeting him for the first time today, at that cute little cafe around the corner, nice and public. Just in case, but I think maybe he might the guy that I can…yeah.’ you blushed.

‘Well I wish you the best of luck, you should head out. Wouldn’t want him waiting.’ Kells said as he went back to his game.

You look at the time and jump up.

‘Oh! You’re right, bye.’ you said as you rushed out the door.

‘Bye.’ he said as you left.

Once you were gone he cut the whole game off and covered his face with both his hands.

‘What the fuck?’ he groaned to himself.

He hated the idea of you going on this date, with some stranger you met online. For all anyone knew this guy could be dangerous, you could walking into something dangerous.

So out of worry he woke up Slim and told him they were about to do some James Bond type shit.

He was only watching out for her, making sure she was safe, that was all. He wasn’t jealous, just concerned for his friend.

He’s a wonderful little goof. I love the guy. He’s absolutely great. He makes everybody laugh, he’s so warm, he’s very generous, and he makes me feel super comfortable on set. I’m very very happy to work with him.
—  Alisha Wainwright talks about working with Alberto Rosende (Simon Lewis) on season 2 of Shadowhunters
Tano And Kenobi: The Senator From Naboo

Previously on Tano and Kenobi…

Now that she has been re-accepted into the Jedi Order and named a Jedi Knight, Ahsoka Tano has some work to do. Luckily a helpful Jedi Master Qui-Gon Jinn is there to point her in the right direction. Senior Initiate Obi-Wan Kenobi has some training to make up for and a lesson in jar’kai waiting for him. 

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Jar’kai was amazing.

Exhausting, but amazing!

Obi-Wan could not remember the last time his arms were so tired and sore after just an hour of lightsaber practice. He happily slumped his way back to the Initiate Dormitory, shedding his robes and boots before taking a long shower in the refresher when he got to his room. After an eternity of muscle-relaxing warm water, he got out, changed into a more comfortable set of robes, and headed back out for dinner.

He was so wrapped up in the happy memories of his lesson with Master Ahsoka that Obi-Wan paid little attention to the older Padawans who were whispering about how he didn’t have a master yet.

“I can’t believe he’s still here!”

“I would have left out of shame by now.”

“My master says no one will take him. They say he’s too emotional. That he might go dark.”

“I heard he tried to ask Master Sinube. Can you believe it? How desperate do you have to be to ask that old fart?”

Holding his head high, Obi-Wan nodded pleasantly to his fellow Jedi. He had a wicked retort on his tongue but he stilled it, knowing deep in his heart that Master Ahsoka would not approve. He was going to make her proud, to show her that he was worthy of her teachings and maybe, if he was lucky, being her padawan.

So that meant Obi-Wan would just have to bite his tongue and ignore the cold-hearted nexus he found himself in line with.

“Hey, Obi-Wan!” a voice called out through the dining hall, belonging to a dark-skinned Kiffar with a golden stripe across his nose.

Who was pushing his way through the dinner crowd and making a beeline towards Obi-Wan. “Thanks for saving me a spot in line.”

Obi-Wan rolled his eyes. “I did no such thing, Quinlan. The end of the line is back there behind Padawan Rast.”

“You are such a goody-goody!” Quinlan groaned, wrapping an arm around his friend’s shoulders and then pulling him into a headlock where he could give him some proper encouragement with his knuckles. “You were totally saving a spot for me, right?”

“Gah! Ow! Quin! That hurts!” Obi-Wan protested, smacking at his friend’s arm for release before he would have to employ more aggressive measures. “Let me go, you odiferous gundark!”

“Odiferous?” Quinlan laughed, releasing Obi-Wan with a flourish and a firm place in line behind his friend as they shuffled forward to dinner. “I will have you know I took a bath yesterday.”

Obi-Wan gently touched the top of his head and winced. “I know. I can smell.”

“So what’s this I hear about there being a new knight in the Temple?” Quinlan asked, his eyes bright with curiosity and his smile lean and curious. “Master says she’s a Togruta that grew up on the Outer Rim? And her master passed into the Force a while ago.”

The surrounding padawans seemed to inch closer to Obi-Wan and Quinlan, their arch commentaries on Obi-Wan’s presence and Quinlan’s boisterous nature forgotten in the face of news and gossip. Highly observant for an initiate, Obi-Wan chewed on his lip as he carefully thought of what to say that would sate Quin’s voracious curiosity but wouldn’t give too much away about Master Ahsoka. He felt very protective of Ahsoka and didn’t want idle gossip to cause her the kind of trouble it had caused Obi-Wan.

“Knight Tano has recently returned from an extended mission in the field,” Obi-Wan finally concluded, thanking the serving droid as he took his tray and stepped away from the food line, Quinlan right on his heels. “She’s been having trouble finding her way with the renovations and I have offered to assist her around the Temple.”

“Tano?” Quinlan echoed, flopping down opposite Obi-Wan at one of the long tables the initiates and padawans sat at. “I don’t remember a knight by that name. What does she do?”

Obi-Wan frowned off to the side, trying to stay silent.

Quinlan narrowed his eyes, his grin growing wider. “You know what she was doing, don’t you! Tell me! C’mon, Obi-Waaaaan! I swear to Yoda I won’t tell a soul!”

Shaking his head, Obi-Wan folded his arms over his chest and continued his mulish silence.

“Obi-Wan!” the Kiffar pleaded, holding up his dessert, hoping it would loosen his friend’s tongue. “I’ll give you my chocolate sponge cake!”

“No!” Obi-Wan refused, shaking his head. “I can’t. I don’t have authorization to tell you.”

“Authorization?” Quinlan gaped, his excitement growing by the minute as he was starting to imagine Knight Tano taking on whole squadrons of pirates over the misty rings of an exotic Outer Rim planet. “Is she a Shadow? Master didn’t say anything about her being a Shadow!”

“Quinlan!” Obi-Wan hissed, leaning under the table to give his friend a good kick in the shins. “Shut your karking mouth before somebody hears you!”

“Language, Initiate,” a low voice rumbled into the two boys squabble and they both turned their faces skyward to see the tall, imposing presence of Master Qui-Gon Jinn standing over them. His face was impassive, neither a smile nor a frown on his lips and his eyes seemed to see beyond them, as if they were not there. “Brother Jedi do not squabble over petty gossip. You would do well to set a proper example for your friend, Padawan Vos.”

And with that bit of wisdom imparted, Master Jinn moved out of the dining hall and into the shadowed archway that led back into the Temple.

Obi-Wan let out a heavy sigh and turned his eyes back to his food as Quinlan let out a snort once he was absolutely certain the mountain of a master was out of earshot. He proceeded to sit up straighter and sniffed in a poor imitation of Master Jinn, “You would do well to be more of a stick in the mud like Luminara, Obi-Wan. She never has any fun and all the masters love her.”

Rolling his eyes, Obi-Wan tucked into his dinner. “Shut up, Quin. I don’t want to get chewed out by two masters tonight.”

Deciding that his empty stomach could hold out no longer, Quinlan followed Obi-Wan’s suggestion and the two boys began to eat in relative silence.

Quinlan didn’t notice Obi-Wan turning around to gaze out at the doorway Master Jinn departed through. I know Master Ahsoka thinks Master Jinn might be a good master for me but… I don’t know. I don’t think any Padawan could ever make him happy.

Obi-Wan bit into his chocolate sponge cake and sighed. Definitely not me.

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I am super super super super super late in getting this out! A fic for @mllekaren A request for a SanSan comfort AU set in a hospital. Please enjoy.

Her eyes were massive and bloodshot, her mascara had run and her eyeliner was smudged. She was trying to salvage what was there as she sat in that cold, sterile waiting room. Her hands were shaking, her mirror shifting and making her tissue rub to hard at the already sensitive region. She knew she could just go to the bathroom and take care of it all in one swoop, but she was too afraid to leave her seat. She would leave and something would happen and she wouldn’t be there. She had to stay in her seat. She couldn’t move. Moving meant more trouble.

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think about it tho like laurent calculated exactly how far nikandros could be pushed before his loyalty would fail. we see that he knows exactly which buttons to push to get nikandros riled up. but instead of needling at him and causing friction and being a little shit he works hard to become close with nikandros. and not only that, he does it by engaging with nikandros via something that he knows nikandros loves (wrestling) even though we know that laurent is not naturally predisposed to sports and very likely does not actually derive any enjoyment from it. he appeals both to nikandros’ sensibilities and to nik’s position as the more experienced of the two to engage with him in as comfortable a setting for nikandros as laurent can manage despite the fact that wrestling is alien to him. 

yes he partly does this in the interests of unity given that nikandros dislikes him and the other kyroi are fractious but nikandros is also his husband’s best friend and closest confidante and he’s trying his absolute best to ease any tension and build bridges. he repeatedly throughout the series connects with people in situations that are profoundly uncomfortable or unfamiliar to him. anyway three cheers for my self sacrificing baby he just wants some friends.

Tom: I got this one. Edd was the one who originally brought us all together. As for instruments, well.

Tom: I play bass, and occasionally also rap. Edd is the lead singer and can actually play nearly any instrument, but he normally sticks with the guitar. Matt, well, he is the drummer, and I can’t think of anyone better for the job. We all occasionally sing, but it depends on the song itself.

anonymous asked:

Re: anon talking about cinnamon roll Yuuri. this is gonna get precious. I imagine once they get a bit more comfortable with one another and TALK about EVERYTHING, Yuuri's side of the story and the more soft side of his personality get revealed, Viktor will feel so #blessed and in love and wonder how is this the same person who jumped him in a corridor, rode him and left. He already caught a glimpse of it during the week in Moscow and thirsted hopelessly for a week.

The week in Moscow was so important for their relationship because they both got to see a much softer and sweeter side to each other and also learned that they actually fit together really well and comfortably in a domestic setting!


Lancaster Dining by cashcraft (The Sims 3)

The Lancaster Dining room reflects style, elegance, and comfort in a contemporary setting. This Sims 3 set includes 13 new objects, a dining table and chair, several types of bottled beverages and so much more.

Jamie/Claire fic

Perhaps this fic speaks more about my state of mind rather than our beloved characters. But I needed some comfort, so Jamie called Claire over, in my head of course, and with their words told me to put Sam & Cait away for now and let me find peace in their world for a while.

(I swear I’m not crazy)

I suggest reading Comfort first. Set in S1E03. It doesn’t play a huge role, but they are tied in. It can be found here:

This is set in the following episode when Claire tries to make her escape from Leoch and stumbles, (literally) over Jamie in the barn.

Side note: I am shipper. I’m wet from the waves and a little sea-sick…maybe it’s just the kale I ate…but don’t follow me unless you want to be inundated with S/C stuff and a lot of smutty S/C fic. 

Just wanted to be clear.  Peace to all, whatever your ship.

Comfort Revisited

I was angry. He had thwarted my plan. It didn’t matter if he was right in all he said. Extra guards. Unknown horse. I sighed heavily, defeated.

I’ll take you back up to the castle,” he had said. I groaned inwardly, telling him the tale of my escape and the clan members, Dougal included, that I had met along the way.

Jamie, alert and concerned at first, had laughed when I had told him of my reactions to Dougal’s advances. But he had gone quiet, pulled into his head for a moment, contemplating something, before speaking once more.

“I canna promise I can get ya back to the surgery without no one noticing. You could stay here, maybe.”

“What? With you?” I wasn’t so delicate as to scoff at the idea of spending the night in a barn. But I hadn’t forgotten what had gone on between us only a week before. Up until now, I hadn’t even thought of it. Best kept locked in a drawer in my head.

“I wouldna mind it so much, Claire, if you’d oblige me. Staying, is what I mean. Seems we would both would be getting somethin out of it.”

I shot him a quizzical, almost accusing stare. Did he think I was going to re-enacting my earlier actions? He stumbled over a nervous laugh, the blush rising in his cheeks as he continued.

“What I mean, lass,” he touched my hands, “is that I would feel the warmth of a woman next to me, even if you nay touch’d me. But I’d drift away into peace with the smell of your hair and softness of your skin. Just in knowin’ you’re there. And you,” I met his eyes, which, until now, had been planted firmly upon his feet, “you’d maybe be okay with me being the one to comfort you. Even if ya wilna let me touch ya. But you could turn into my side for quiet while you wept.”

“What makes you think I need to cry?” I was angry again, like the moment before. I wasn’t some little lassie that needed rescuing. I tried to pull my hands from his grasp, but he held on, stepping forward, pulling a stubborn strand of straw from my dishevelled hair.

“Because I ken what it’s like to be alone in a strange place.” He spoke the words softly as if opening a door only slightly, allowing just the bit of himself to be seen in the soft glow.

I bowed my head in shame. Jamie had been the one thing that had been good about this place. The one person that I did allow my guard to, every now an then, retreat from its post for a moment of rest.

I looked round to his make-shift bed where he had been spending the day, away from the clan. It certainly didn’t look any worse than places I’d slept during the war. My hands began to tremble in his, whether it was from the cold or the dam that held my feelings, held at bay until now, about to collapse with brutal force, bringing with it unrelenting waves of sobs. I was terrified what I might tell him if I couldn’t patch it back up.

Jamie pulled me next to the barn wall, bringing me down to the bed of hay at our feet, tossing my wrapped food a foot away. We knelt in front of each other before he released my hands, extinguishing the light.

“Rest now, Sassenach. I’ll wake before anyone finds us,” and as I lowered myself onto my bed for the night, Jamie pulled the straw in around is, cocooning us in an itchy sort of comfort.

Jamie was true to his word. He didn’t touch me. His back was to the wall, and the rest of his body contoured around my billowing dress. I tried to pull the cloak and gown in closer to me. Whether, subconsciously, meaning that Jamie could lean in closer, or to shield myself further from the chill, I can’t really say. Or maybe, I just wouldn’t admit.

I listened to his steady breathing, his warm breath catching the back of my hair and allowed my eyes to close in wishful sleep. I thought if I thought hard enough, I could conjure Frank from the ether, but each time I would see him walk through the fog, when he made to move the hat off his head, he suddenly became Jamie. My distinguished, scholar husband evaporated into a Highlander. A strong built, tall man with a commanding stance and calm presence. Beautiful hair that made me question whom he had gotten it from. Was his mother’s hair this glorious, deep red? Or was it perhaps, his father that he mirrored in image?

My imagination fluttered and scattered across one thought to the next until it rested upon his face. Just his beautiful boyish face, hints of manhood sprouting across his cheeks and chin. I hadn’t intended for it to enter my mind. I had felt the jab of thought occasionally cut through my thoughts since we’d met, but quickly mended the tear.

What must his face feel like against mine? Frank had always kept a close shave. Each and every day, without fail, he had dragged the razor across his cheek with such precision. I barely felt more than a five o’clock shadow, his hair growing slowly as it did.

But Jamie’s… when he spoke, I watched his mouth. Watched as his lips moved, his tongue rolling his r’s and his face, with it’s sprouting hair, became something I had had to shake out of my head. Sometimes it worked. Other times, I would feel the dampness between my legs and I would clutch my thighs together tightly willing it to stop, fighting with every part of me, to ignore the feel of him beneath my hand in the surgery that day.

I held my breath and first the first time, I heard nothing but silence. I waited. Finally, the soft snore from behind me made me relax. The sounds from the gathering far off in the distance still carried across the night. But that moment, just before, I had heard nothing. Not even my own heart beat.

I felt safer in this bed made of straw and mud than I had in days. I could just try to scramble out of here on foot. But Jamie would catch me. What would he do then? Would he promptly take me back up to the castle and to Colum? Would he yell at me and tell me I was foolish again? Or would he finally do what my mind was screaming at me for him to do. I closed my eyes, his breath, becoming a part of my imaginary world, was picking up speed. He was chasing me through the wood.

I ran fast into the dark of night, cutting through the mist like sun breaking through the clouds. I could hear Jamie’s pants as he followed close behind, his footfalls crashing over the leaves.

I looked over my shoulder at the sleeping form next to me, carving his face into memory as I turned back. I reached down to the hem of my dress, as quietly as I could, bringing it up higher to fit my hand beneath its heavy blanket. I fumbled with the layers, growing desperate to forget everything but the sensation growing between my thighs.

My cool hand touched the heat of my body and I arched against it, a soft whimper escaping my mouth. I closed my eyes, conjuring up more images of an emerging Scot in the mist.

Jamie, catching up, took hold of my flailing arms and pushed me against a sturdy tree. I struggled. Words never formed in either of our mouths, but I could feel perspiration drip from my upper lip just before he swept in to steal it away with his tongue before pushing it past my lips, owning my mouth. My body fought against him which only made his grasp on my wrists tighten as he pushed his hardness, shielded only slightly by his kilt, into me.

My finger, focusing solely on my clit until now, moved slowly down, encountering a hand that wasn’t mine. My mind froze. I hadn’t even noticed him waking, let alone reaching beneath me. Images of slapping the hand away and springing up from the ground to run only furthered my fevered imagination. So instead, I just lay silent. Hoping – willing – him to be asleep. An idle hand, lost in his own dreams, I hoped, simply venturing out for a stroll.

But he wasn’t asleep. Jamie shifted against me, his hand still, grazing mine, resting on the wet curls beneath my clothes.

I sniffled, the emotion welling up inside me, then moved my hand to guide his inside me in silence. I felt his fingers, first one, then a second added only a moment later, stretch inside me. If his fingers were this large…

Tears began to slide down my cheeks, betraying my stubbornness to give in.

“Shh. Lass. Just let it go. Not forever. Just for now.”

I rolled over, burying my head in his chest, while his fingers worked inside my body. I made to take hold of him through his kilt, but he stopped me. I looked up into his eyes, a sliver of moonlight cutting through a break in the stone, causing his eyes to sparkle like stars in a cold nights’ sky.

“You took me in your embrace and cared for me last week, Claire. I don’t need it so much myself tonight. But I think you do.”

His hands, seemingly unskilled and clumsy at first, quickly found their stride, and as he pushed inside me, I felt as though he was pushing my tears out from within as well. My head fell forward against his chest once more, the smell of sweat and manure from his shirt causing my nostrils to flare in not an entirely unpleasant manner.

His free arm moved under my head cradling me to his body while he worked me. I clutched at his shirt, tears from the seams slicing through my moans and sobs until finally, my body shook in a relentless quake, shattering every wall I had so carefully stacked up and plastered, to crumble to bits on the ground all around me.

I wept into his shirt, tears from my cheeks joining the stains of his labour. He carefully removed his hand from inside me, bringing it around my body to meet its pair.

I wept for my old life. For Frank. Wept for my escape plan shot to hell and the unknown world I may very well be stuck in forever.

I wept for it all, except for tonight. Tonight, I lay in the arms of a man strong enough to break down my walls, but strong enough to put me back together again.

Cuddling with Glenn Rhee would include :

(Woooo more prompts! Wooo Glenn :D Hope it is as requested and you all like it :3 Gif not mine/found it on google/credit to the original owner.)

-Him always just hugging and kissing you the moment he sees you in the room before changing and getting in bed and in your arms

-Him nuzzling to your neck as he gets comfortable in bed before setting himself a little higher to be the big spoon

-Him just holding you tight and resting his chin on your head as he asks you about your day

-Him kissing your hair and head as he listens to you while you can also feel his arm feeling your body

-His leg rubbing and wrapping against yours as your talk suddenly becomes more about how you both feel

-Him holding your hand in his to intertwine fingers as he lays on his back and pull you to rest your head on his chest

-Him stroking your hair as he tells you about his day

-Him getting super close to you when you would lay on your side, only to get himself a boner and make you feel it

-You or him always turning to face one another and just look into each other eyes and poke each other’s cheek or nose

-Him falling asleep only after you had and as he feels you in his arms