You Ever Think How It’s Really Truly Pedro Pascal’s World And We’re All Just Living In It

In case anyone is having a bad night

(The best of this post and its reblogs, but with links that work)

Here is a website where you can scroll down to all the different levels of the ocean 

Here is a website where you can see the future of the universe

Here is a website where you can press a ‘make everything okay’ button, over and over, until things really are okay

Here is a website that you can read if you feel like a burden

Here is a website where you can look at strobe illusions (TW strobe/flashing)

Here is a website where you can cut stuff up (TW blood/sh)

Here and here are websites where you can play with sand

Here is a website where you can draw with macaroni and other fun foods

Here is a website where you can paint someone’s nails

Here is a website where you can grow a garden with emojis

Here is a website with hundreds of videos of people hugging you (rightfully dubbed ‘the nicest place on the internet’ because it really is, y’all, it made me cry)

Here is a website that will take you to other useless websites

Here is a website where you can make a tiny cat play bongo drums (and other instruments!)

Here is a website to help give you gentle reminders <3

Here is a website where you can grow a tiny farm

Here is a website where you can take a bunch of scientific personality tests

Here is a website of calm rain noise

Take a breath. It’s going to be okay, I promise.

this is all I need to get by.

oh snap

"Pillow Talk"

Pairing: Spencer Reid x f!reader

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: post-smut, domestic intimacy, kissing, pillow talk, mentions of being naked, no smut

Words: 1k

Summary: After a passionate night together, you wake up wrapped in Spencer’s warmth.

The first thing you noticed was warmth.

Spencer’s warmth.

It surrounded you, wrapped around you like a cocoon, his body flush against yours beneath the tangle of sheets. His arm was slung low around your waist, fingers resting lazily against the dip of your stomach, his bare chest pressed to your back, his breath fanning softly against your neck.

It was a kind of warmth you could sink into.

A warmth that, if you let it, could make you never want to leave this bed again.

Last night.

The memory flickered through your mind, heat blooming in your chest.

It had been slow. Unrushed. Like time had stopped just for the two of you. Spencer had touched you like he was memorizing every inch of your skin, had kissed you like he was tracing poetry with his lips.

And now, in the early light of morning, that same warmth still lingered between you.

You exhaled softly, shifting slightly against him. The movement made Spencer stir, his grip tightening, pulling you just a little closer.

A low hum rumbled in his chest, sleep still thick in his voice. “You’re awake?”

You smiled, tilting your head slightly to look at him. His hair was a mess, curls wild and untamed from sleep, his face softer than usual, a sleepy haze still clinging to his eyes.

You resisted the urge to run your fingers through his curls. Barely.

“Mm,” you hummed. “I am now.”

Spencer let out a slow breath, nuzzling his nose against your shoulder, pressing a lazy, half-conscious kiss to your skin. “You should go back to sleep,” he murmured. “It’s early.”

You laughed softly. “You don’t even know what time it is.”

Spencer sighed, barely opening his eyes. “Based on the angle of the light, I’d say somewhere around 7:00 AM.”

You snorted. “Nerd.”

His lips quirked against your skin. “You like that I’m a nerd.”

You rolled your eyes. “Yeah, yeah.”

A comfortable silence settled between you, his hand splaying lazily across your stomach, fingers tracing idle patterns against your skin.

Then—

“Last night was…” Spencer’s voice trailed off slightly, searching for the right words.

You turned in his arms to face him, raising an eyebrow. “What? You gonna say it was ‘statistically significant’?”

Spencer huffed out a sleepy laugh, shaking his head. “No.” His fingers brushed a strand of hair from your face. “It was perfect.”

Your heart fluttered.

The sincerity in his voice made something warm settle in your chest, a quiet kind of happiness filling every inch of you.

You smiled, reaching up to trace your fingers along his jaw. “Yeah,” you murmured. “It was.”

Spencer’s gaze softened, his eyes flickering between yours before trailing lower, down to your lips.

You knew that look.

Your stomach flipped.

Slowly, almost hesitantly, he leaned in, his lips ghosting over yours in a way that sent a shiver down your spine. It was different from last night—not filled with urgency or need, but something sweeter. Something deeper.

Like he was savoring the moment.

When he pulled back, he was smiling.

“You’re soft in the mornings,” you teased, tracing a finger across his collarbone.

Spencer smirked. “You weren’t saying that last night.”

Your face burned.

You let out a scandalized gasp, swatting at his chest. “Spencer!”

He just laughed, catching your wrist with ease and pressing a kiss to the inside of it, his lips lingering against your pulse.

The intimacy of it made your breath hitch.

Spencer’s gaze flickered up to meet yours, something unreadable in his expression.

“I like this,” he murmured.

You swallowed. “Like what?”

He shifted, pulling you closer so you were completely wrapped in him, tangled in warmth, in him. “Waking up with you,” he admitted. “Having you in my arms.”

You felt your heart skip a beat.

“Spence…” you whispered, your fingers curling around the fabric of the sheets.

Spencer sighed, his voice soft. “I mean it.”

You tucked your head against his chest, your cheeks burning, overwhelmed by how much you felt.

“I like it too,” you admitted. “More than I should.”

Spencer smiled against your hair.

Neither of you spoke for a while, just lying there, wrapped in each other, letting the morning stretch out between you.

Eventually, Spencer sighed dramatically.

“Unfortunately, the laws of time and societal obligations make staying in bed forever impossible.”

You groaned. “I hate the laws of time and societal obligations.”

Spencer grinned, pressing a lazy kiss to your forehead. “Me too.”

And for a little while longer, neither of you moved.

HAPPIEST 42ND BIRTHDAY, CHARLIE COX!

My Favorite Relatable Letterboxd Reviews of Your Filmography in Your Honor ✨🙂‍↕️