Comfort My Characters!

Send me an emoji and a character name and I’ll give my character that comfort!

🛁 - A nice, relaxing bath

💤 - A few extra hours of sleep

🎬 - An uninterrupted movie night

🍽 - A special treat of their choice

☀️ - A nice day outside

🧣 - A fluffy blanket

🌸 - Something that calms them

🤗 - A warm hug

⛑ - Some tender first-aid

🛏 - Someone by their bedside when they wake up

🛎 - Someone at their beck and call

🥰 - Post-nightmare cuddles

☺️ - Soft words of reassurance

🤝 - Some help performing a basic task

🤫 - Some peace and quiet

🙃 - Someone to share their suffering with

🍳 - Breakfast in bed

📚 - A bedtime story

😭 - A shoulder to cry on

✋ - A hand carding gently through their hair

🧸 - A soft plushie

😌 - Someone gently brushing their hair

♟ - Board games/arts and crafts inside

Making a whumpy writer ask game! Pass it on!

Missing

A/N: Sol @writing-whump - thank you for worrying about where I was when I didn't post last weekend. I had a lot going on with home and work. Here's a birthday present - just a little late! But I'm back, and I'm feeling motivated to get the next few stories out. Coming up are both the next part of this arc and a standalone with Drew sick from drinking coffee. This was a challenge. It's always hard to make the POV from someone getting drunk but I think it needed that here. And if you wonder why Avery was pretty quiet, well, he's the next one down with the bug as you're going to find out next.

Noa pulled the next file towards her and quickly scanned the summary on the first page.

Daniel (Danny) Riston, age 31

Spouse: Cary Riston, age 28, separated

Children: Maya - 4, Liam - 18 months

7 year opioid addiction following auto accident

Two inpatient stays, 2021, 2024

Occupation: skilled technician/HVAC servicer. Terminated from most recent employer for absenteeism

She gave a little sigh of sympathy and began reading the details of Daniel Riston’s history of drug addiction and treatment.  So far most of the patients in her new therapy group had similar stories; men who’d fallen into the hole of addiction due to some acute crisis in their life and hadn’t been able to claw back out.  They had jobs and families and hopes and ambitions, all derailed by drugs or alcohol. Noa wanted to help them find their way back, to help them mend their broken lives and broken relationships.  

It wouldn’t be easy; drug addiction treatment had one of the highest relapse rates in the entire mental health field.  But Noa was determined to try.  No matter how hard it was.  

And much as she didn’t want to admit it, right now Rory was making it harder.  

"How are they doing?"

"Always either sleeping or crying. They just won't get better."

loving the thought of painkillers making a character loopy... they've been hurting for so long and it's finally going away, being replaced by a pleasant buzzing feeling through their whole body, and it just feels so good that their brain gets a little silly about it.

with inhibitions lowered, this is a good time for them to say something unusually sappy to their friend or love interest, or perhaps confess to a dark secret they've desperately kept locked away... or finally break down, unable to hold their emotions back any longer

Softy

this isn't really a fic, I just wanted to write it today bc my writing wasn't flowing and they were being adorable af in the back of my mind. Very short!

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"Lie down," Jonah bossed, glaring over his shoulder to make sure Leo was in a horizontal position on the couch, "are you hungry? Thirsty? Nauseous?"

"Cold," Leo groaned, shifting slightly and making grabby hands, "I want you to hold me."

Jonah let out a long suffering sigh at not having anything tangible to address, but walked back to the couch, sitting on the very edge. Leo promptly grabbed his arm, tugging at the wrist so Jon would lie on top of him.

Softy

this isn't really a fic, I just wanted to write it today bc my writing wasn't flowing and they were being adorable af in the back of my mind. Very short!

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"Lie down," Jonah bossed, glaring over his shoulder to make sure Leo was in a horizontal position on the couch, "are you hungry? Thirsty? Nauseous?"

"Cold," Leo groaned, shifting slightly and making grabby hands, "I want you to hold me."

Jonah let out a long suffering sigh at not having anything tangible to address, but walked back to the couch, sitting on the very edge. Leo promptly grabbed his arm, tugging at the wrist so Jon would lie on top of him.

Relapse - I

Warning! This has some fat shaming language/thoughts coming from Wendy towards herself, as well as swirling ED thoughts. This blog does not condone either of those things and if you're struggling with ED, let a loved one know, please. Also, I have no experience in this area, so my inbox is open to criticisms and helpful nudges, just don't be mean 🙈

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Having Vince home was like a dream come true. Having been living alone for all of her adult life, Wendy thought that getting used to sharing a space was going to take more of an effort, specially with a guy who occupied as much space as her boyfriend.

That wasn't the case, though. She had been fully bracing for their relationship to get a bit rocky as they were faced with the day to day challenges and arguments that dating long distance didn't allow for, but turned out Vince was simply the perfect roommate.

He was almost always in a good mood and even when he wasn't, Vince just sulked a bit and buried his face in a book, it was easy to ignore or talk about the issue. He didn't need her to list him chores, he got to those on his own like a functional adult, and he was the best cook in the world, so Wendy couldn't even remember the last time she had set foot inside her kitchen.

She was beyond thrilled by this unexpected turn of events, so it was much to her displeasure that Wendy caught herself obsessing over the relationship weight she was gaining by living with Vin.

"Silver?" Angie, Jonah's baby sister, asked in a bright, excited voice. She was like a puppy following her brother around the dress store and Wendy was happy to watch them interact, just as long as she didn't have to try anything on. She had the irking sensation that whatever it was she tried on, it wasn't going to look flattering and today wasn't a good day to deal with the body dysmorphia that accompanied that.