#he probably gives the best hugs

[orionssbelt]

a hug from him would save my life

[honey-bunches1345]

Todays meal:

And for dessert…

[vacantgodling]

I NEED TO DRAW JENNA AND CARLOS!!!!

[hey-august]

bark bark bark

Summer body Buggy in horrible shorts . flashing his tіts on some trashy concert

[323cutie]

let me have tonight. | jwy

pairing ୨୧ wooyoung x reader

word count ୨୧ 440

genre ୨୧ angst? hurt/comfort, established relationship, bpd coded reader, wooyo taking care of u <3

warnings ୨୧ mental illness, dissociating?, not really a breakdown but an Episode of sorts

author's note ୨୧ realizing now that the pic im using for this is kinda sexy when the fic itself is not sexy. Anyways. sometimes you think you're losing it and just need wooyo to walk you thru it. hope everyones doing ok and if u need it u find some comfort in this <3

It’s late.

You don’t know how late, or how long you’ve been up. Don’t really remember when Wooyoung got here, either. He’s warm. You think you can hear the stars twinkling.

It happens like this, sometimes – misty, and weird. Colors you don’t know and feelings that don’t have names. A strange emptiness that is always cut off so sharp by the worst of your emotions, a headache of all of your fears at the forefront. Tears that drown your eyes and make your face burn. And a million questions that you don’t even remember thinking – does no one care? Am I really that bad? How am I so alone?

You think it’s like dissociating, maybe. Wooyoung shifts, releasing his hold on you just barely enough to look down at you. You blink, and he asks, “feeling hungry?”

You aren’t sure, but you nod anyways. Your brain is starting to come back to you, telling you it’s been a while, telling you to drink water, telling you to make sure Wooyoung doesn’t go too far. He walks into your kitchen and you follow.

The candle burning on your island smells like him. You swallow and try to keep it in, stand and try not to fall over. You wonder what he thinks of you like this, lost and scared and begging for attention. You think it must be pity keeping him here, nothing more than shallow obligation, a nagging –

Wooyoung’s eyes are warm when they meet yours, shining with love. Hearts, if you look close enough. Fond under your unflattering kitchen light, scouring through your pantry to see what he can use to make you something to eat – going out of his way. He asks if you have any tofu, he’ll make you kimchi stew, but you can’t focus on that right now.

One, two strides across your kitchen before you’re hugging him, tight and purposeful. Wooyoung giggles like he’s surprised but immediately reciprocates, eager to have you close like always. He smells so lovely, like home, feels real against you. Genuine, loving, honest.

“‘M sorry,” you mumble into his shirt. He makes an indignant noise like he doesn’t know what you’re talking about (like he hasn’t spent the whole day, or night, or all of it, taking care of you. Making sure you’re there. Letting you attach yourself to him because you’re scared he’ll leave if you don’t). “Thank you. I love you.”

He softens under your words. Pliant enough to lean into you even more than he already is. His voice is clear, the mist in your mind gone. He murmurs it like it’s a secret between the two of you: “You know I love you more.”

[itsybitsybatsyspider]

Have some more Dragon Prince Au, feat. Jack trying to learn Sky magic and his sister, Emily.

[caycanteven]

also...

take this big ol' softy that I can't help but literally melt for.

It's @didderd boi uwu. I love him and will always have coffee breaks with him.

[alicewonderao3]

Tell me he doesn’t look so good here.

good god almighty.. look at my man

(@hqtchner’s gifs)

[toapoet]

i know geralt is like token grumpy guy but what if he was also like…the “free dad hugs” guy at pride. ??

[ridiasfangirlings]

Saruhiko wasn't quite sure how to comfort his pre-teen daughter so he just hugged her awkwardly and in complete silence until she hugged him back. Now that she's grown tho, she likes to greet him with the same awkward expression + hug combo.

I bet Fushimi is the master of awkward parental hugs, he’s heard of hugging your children but has no firsthand knowledge. The first time his preteen daughter comes home all upset because she was being bullied or something Fushimi is at a loss, his immediate reaction is to offer to kill them for her but he’s pretty sure that’s not how you’re supposed to do things and anyway Captain would give him a lecture about it. There’s a little voice in his head that sounds vaguely like Yata going ‘hug her!’ but Fushimi doesn’t exactly know how to do that either. In any case, he ends up sitting next to her on the bed and giving her the most awkward hug ever until she stops crying and starts laughing instead because Dad’s hugs are so weird. 

Fushimi takes this to mean the hug worked so whenever she’s upset after that he does the same thing, though he never really gets any better at it. His daughter thinks it’s funny though, it’s just her dad’s way of giving hugs. When she gets older and has at least some vague idea of what her shitty grandparents were like I imagine the hugs are even more special to her, realizing that until she was born Fushimi never really hugged anyone. Once she’s an adult and moves out then every time she goes to visit him she has to give him an awkward hug, for anyone watching this probably looks very strange but for the two of them it’s kind of a special memory.

[imagobin]

The Spot Sketcharoos

He is peak design- Also while sketching him I noticed he's got like- hip dips? Love handles? However you wanna call them- that's cute, that's absolutely adorable and I'm here for it

[moe-broey]

Forever thinking about this panel

He will NOT be accepting hugs for any mundane reason and if you try he will react like he's being hunted for sport

But I am ALSO thinking about

He will give a little sympathetic pat on the back........ if you're feeling down ......

Alfonse physical affection seems to vary and is situational 👍

[lordgrimwing]

Glorfindel the Child Lord

[for Glorfindel Week, hosted by @glorfindelweek, Day 2, a companion piece to Glorfindel the Child Balrog Slayer]

“My King?” Glorfindel said. “You sent a message?”

Turgon’s office was small and intimate. The council room and other official and ceremonial rooms in the spiraling tower were large and opulent as only the Noldor could be, but he liked his private room small and tastefully decorated with a handful of meaningful items. There was something about conversing in these rooms as opposed to anywhere else that made Glorfindel feel completely seen and understood, even if he was not always called here for the most pleasant of discussions. 

Turgon looked up from his armchair by the window. He held a book in one hand and an elegant glass of some russet drink in the other. The gold woven into his hair flashed in the setting sun as he raised his head. “I see the message found you. I wondered how long it would take.”

“Yes,” Glorfindel agreed, conscious of the flecks of dirt on his clothes that threatened to fall onto the pristine rug. Maybe he should have taken the time to change first. “The courier should be commended: she let no great feat daunt her.”

Turgon smiled and gestured at the seat across from him as he set the leather-bound book on a side table. “Nor mountain cliffs, I suspect. Calatail more than earns her name. Please, sit.”

“I dare not, for my tunic is soiled. I am quite happy to speak on my feet.” He pointed at one of the various muddy marks to illustrate the risk he posed to furniture. He really should have changed, and maybe washed his hair, too. He doubted Turgon had expected him, the lord of one of his houses, to arrive several hours late and covered in dirt and detritus. He wasn’t doing a very good job at this lord business, was he?

“Laurefindelë, a little dirt will not harm the upholstery. Sit.” Turgon said it with a serious but teasing tone, mixing Sindarin with Quenya. 

Glorfindel did so, settling himself on the edge of the seat and touching as little of the cushion as possible. Turgon definitely noticed but refrained from commenting further, which was a relief. He did not want to disobey his king, but also, he really should have made himself presentable. He wasn’t a child anymore.

“Now, Glorfindel,” Turgon said, relaxing back into his seat and into casual Quenya, using the Sindarin version of his guest’s name, which he knew the young lord preferred. “From all appearances, I will assume Calatail had to retrieve you from your House’s fields in the northern glen-”

Glorfindel kept his mouth shut. That was not true at all and he was fairly certain Turgon knew he hadn’t been anywhere near where he should have been. It wasn’t that he was trying to shirk his new duties, and he understood the weight of responsibility the title of Lord gave him—he grew up watching his parents bear that responsibility. Sometimes he just wanted to run off and leave it all behind. He couldn’t though, so he’d compromise by climbing as high up the precipice surrounding the secret city as he could. He knew he shouldn’t do it but he did.

“-and that our meeting slipped your mind while you were thus occupied.” Turgon’s voice was calm, his face untroubled, but he was without doubt giving gentle chastisement. 

It would have been better, Glorfindel thought, if the king had reprimanded him with sharp words, or demanded an explanation for the tardiness. He would have if any of the other lords kept him waiting for so long. He had much to do and little time to wait for dawdlers. 

Glorfindel cast his eyes down and clasped his dirty hands in his lap, attempting to look duly chastened, even if he didn't feel it. He knew he should do better, could treat his title with all the gravity it deserved (he'd seen his parents bear it with all the honor they could, even during the hardest parts of the March) but he knew he’d do this again, and he couldn’t bring himself to feel sorry about it. He would try to not miss another meeting, at least.   

“We’ll put that behind us,” Turgon said kindly. “I wanted to discuss your House’s contribution to the Festival of Trees.”

Glorfindel straightened in his seat. This was about his House; he needed to represent his people well. This was one thing he couldn’t fall short of. “Preparations are well underway. We have dual responsibilities with guarding the fourth gate, so I’ve broached the possibility of collaboration with the House of the Fountain for the tournaments.”

“Very good,” Turgon said with a nod. “As usual, Idril is organizing special events for the children.”

This was clearly the reason he wanted to meet with Glorfindel.

“In years passed, you’ve assisted her with that.”

“Yes,” Glorfindel agreed. Idril recruited him to shepherd the younger children—mostly products of the Long Peace before the construction of Gondolin���from activity to activity. He liked it. The formal festivities were nice, especially once he was old enough to appreciate the more solemn bits, but he always looked forward to gathering up the children to meet Idril.

Turgon smiled again but his lips were thin, like he was about to say something and did not fully like the taste of the words. “I’ve asked that she find someone else to help her this year and going forward. With your new responsibilities, I thought it best to relieve you of that burden so that you can focus on your House.”

Glofindel did not slump in the seat. He did not let his shoulders drop with disappointment because he was not disappointed. He really wasn’t. He knew this would come eventually; he wasn’t a child anymore, and he could name at least three elflings who’d happily take up the honor of working with Idril. Still, a pang of loss shot through his chest at the finality heralded by the king’s words.

He’d given up his childhood when Turgon placed the lordship on his shoulders.

(his memories of the ceremony tasted like smoke from the Nirnaeth Arnoediad and salt from the tears on his face, his parents’ absence a bleeding wound inside his chest)

“My deepest thanks,” he said past the lump in his throat. “I might have forgotten about the conflict until the celebration was upon us. I will write a letter for Idril to thank her for allowing me to work with her for so long, and suggesting new candidates to fill the role.”

“I’m sure she’ll track you down herself in the coming months.” Turgon’s expression was once again relaxed, the challenging part of the conversation over. 

She would, wouldn’t she? He wondered how long he could avoid it without being rude. Idril was nothing if not determined (that was one of the things he admired about her when he was young).

There was another pause, but this time Glorfindel had nothing to contribute to the silence other than his own. 

Turgon’s tone changed again when he opened his mouth, going from the king he had become in Beleriand to the family friend Glorfindel vaguely recalled from Valinor. “Lordship is a great weight I have asked you to shoulder. How are you doing, Laurë?”

“I am learning a great many things.” Glorfindel didn’t know how much more he could bring himself to say. “And as you’ve seen, schedule management is still a trial. My King,” he stood, “if our business is finished, might I beg leave to depart? I’ve just remembered I have a House meeting to preside over that starts in half an hour. I promised my steward I wouldn’t be late this time.”

Turgon looked taken aback at the sudden change in the conversation. He looked up at the young lord from his seat. “That was everything pressing. Please, go if you need.”

Relief filled the parts of Glorfindel’s body not already flooded with painful memories. He spun on his heel, no longer caring if his clothes shed debris on the rugs, and hurried from the office. He barely caught the king’s promise that they’d talk again soon. 

He left the palace tower as quickly as he could, nearly tripping on the stairs in his haste to be out and away so he could find a quiet spot to recompose himself. The House meeting wasn’t as imminent as he’d said, but he didn’t have enough time to hide the evidence of tears from his steward if he started crying now. 

(she’d been his parents' steward since Valinor, and she’d watched him grow up)

(he feared he was disappointing her with his struggles to fill his father’s shadow as Lord of the House of the Golden Flower)

He tucked himself away in the unused space behind a bakery. Sitting very still, he focused on the tantalizing smells coming from the open windows rather than the memories of the day the battered, fractured army came back from the Nirn.

[urdeadbestfriend]

twin beds are made for sharing but no one else gets it

[medicbrainrot]

i pray with the devil you rest in peace (divinity, part 2)

As a result of the success of the mission, everyone had been given a few days leave to rest and recuperate. Simon and Artemis had decided to spend their leave together, using the quiet days to spend some time together, in a calm, relaxed environment. 

After a chill night watching movies and playing video games, Simon and Artemis had fallen asleep cuddling on his bed, enjoying a restful evening together. 

Simon was fast asleep on the bed, a soft smile on his face as his chest rose and fell with his breathing. Both of them were dressed for comfort, Simon in a black t-shirt and sweatpants, Artemis in pajama pants and one of Simon’s hoodies. 

Simon rolled over in his sleep, pulling Artemis closer to him. His arm was draped around her back, tucking his face into her neck. He sighs, nuzzling into her.

Artemis was having a dream…no, a nightmare. She feels like she can’t breathe. The memory of the enemy soldier’s knife pressed against her throat causes her to whimper in her sleep.

Her whimpering rouses Simon from the confines of sleep, and he pulls back slightly to look at her. He starts gently running his fingers through her hair, leaning up to kiss her forehead, trying to provide any semblance of comfort during the nightmare she’s experiencing.

“Shh…everything’s okay now… I promise you’re safe, I’ll always protect you. Just like I did then.” He whispers softly.

“No…please…let me go…” She mumbles quietly, a frown marring her features.

“Hey, hey, It’s okay.” He gently pulled her closer to him, putting a hand on her shoulder and leaning her against him. His voice was warm and soft, soft and comforting. 

“You’re safe. You’re safe, okay? He’s gone. He’s gone and he’s not coming back.” Simon tried to keep his voice steady as he comforted Artemis, trying to keep any notes of panic out. He kept his arms tightly around her, trying to help her. “You’re okay, I’m right here.”

Her hand reached up to scratch at the wound across her throat. “Simon… Simon… please… help.” She whimpers, scratching at her neck.

He grabbed her hand with one one of his one, pulling it away, placing it against his chest. “Don’t touch it, sweetheart. You’ll undo the bandages, Temi.”

His voice remained gentle, but he was starting to worry. “Artemis, you’re going to be alright. I’m here. You’re okay.”

She starts hyperventilating, the nightmare getting worse. “Please… help me… please.” She whimpers, tears beginning to escape from her closed eyes.

“It’s okay, it’s okay…” Simon soothed her, trying to quell his own panic. “I’m here, I’m here, it’s okay.” He held her tightly as he tried to soothe her back to a steady breathing rate. “You’re going to be okay, I promise. I’ll keep you safe.”

Simon continues to try to comfort her as she cries, when a thought hits him like a bolt of lightning. 

He took a deep breath before speaking. “Artemis, sweetheart, wake up.” He shook her shoulder gently. “Come on, it’s okay, wake up, love.”

Between Simon calling her name and the gentle rocking of her body, Artemis woke up in a gasp, her eyes filling with tears. 

“Hey… it’s okay. You’re okay.” He soothed as he looked at her, eyes wide and tearful, his own eyes filled with worry. “I’m here, Temi, I’m here. You’re safe.” He pulled her close, resting her head on his chest. “It’s okay, you’re safe.”

She buries her head in Simon’s chest as she lets out a few quiet sobs. “He had me… he was gonna…”

“I know.” Simon whispers, holding onto her tightly, wanting nothing more than to comfort her. “But you’re safe now. I won’t let anyone hurt you. He can’t hurt you again.”

He repeated softly, holding her tight as she cried. “It’s okay, you’re safe, I’m here.”

“You’re here.” She repeated in a whisper. “You’re here.”

“I’m here.” He repeated back to her, his voice gentle. He didn’t ever want to see her get hurt again, and all he wanted right now was to give her all the comfort in the world.

“I’m not going anywhere, I promise. He won’t hurt you ever again, Artemis. Never again…”

As her sobs started to subside, the tension in her body started to release. 

Simon let out a soft sigh as he felt her body start to relax. She was safe, and she was out of that terrifying nightmare. He kept his arms securely around her, and leaned his head up to press a kiss into her hair. “Do you know what I'm most worried about?” He asks softly, pressing another gentle kiss to her head.

“What?” She whispers. 

“You.” He replies quietly. Simon stroked a gentle hand down her back, trying to let her know that he was there, that she was safe, and that he would keep her safe. She couldn’t see it, but his expression was filled with worry and concern for her. Simon just wants to keep his Artemis safe.

“I’m not going to let anything happen to you. I don’t want anything to happen to you.” He whispers.

“I’m okay.” She whispers back. “It was just a nightmare.”

“I know.” He brushes his hand up and down her back again before pressing another kiss to her hair. “You’re safe now. You’re going to be okay.”

“I’m safe.” She repeats. “I’m okay.”

Simon pulled away from the hug for a moment to look into her eyes, trying to get a gauge on how she was feeling. He smiled gently, squeezing her in reassurance. “You’re okay.” He whispered, pressing her body into his again, softly stroking her hair and her back.

He never wanted something like that to happen to her again. He silently vowed to always be a safe place for her, to always protect her. “You’re okay, you’re safe, I’m here.” 

“I’m okay, I’m safe, you’re here.” She mumbled sleepily.

Simon sighed in relief when he heard Artemis repeat her answer again, happy to hear that she had calmed down again. “I’m here Artemis, I’ll always be here.”

He held her close, running his hand up and down her back, over and over. He softly kissed the top of her head again, before whispering, “I love you.”

“...love you…” She mumbled back, already half asleep.

Simon smiled gently, leaning in to press a kiss to her forehead. “I love you, Artemis.”

He was content to fall asleep again with her wrapped in his arms, wanting nothing more than for that moment to last forever. All he wanted was an eternal moment of peace with the two of them together, after everything they’ve been through. 

A/N: Thanks for reading! Likes, reblogs, and feedback are appreciated!

Masterlist

[hazmatazz]

realizing how much physical affection means to me literally. like i always get that as my #1 love language for every fun test i do but oh my god they're right. i don't get enough physical affection or i don't get people saying they're giving me physical affection when they can't and suddenly i'm staying up that everyone hates me