because the answer to "do you need a hug" is ALWAYS yes

[angelgazing]

There should be a snazzy intro here, but let's face it guys, the point would be this: CUDDLING. Every one needs cuddling. People love cuddling. I love cuddling. I think Arthur probably secretly loves cuddling. And you know Eames is a clingy bastard. Because cuddling is awesome! And everyone should get some cuddles. So, allow me to present:

The Multi-Fandom Cuddling Meme

~The Rules~

Stolen Adapted from foxxcub's super awesome kissing meme

1. All fic/art must including cuddling of some kind
   
2. All pairings, fandoms, rating, and genres welcome!
   
3. There is not minimum or maximum word count.
   
4. Be kind to one another ♥♥♥
   

Comment and share the love!

Comments

Arthur/Eames, lol who needs titles?

[seeingrightly.livejournal.com]

When Arthur wakes up it’s warm. He keeps his eyes closed, shifting back slightly into the solid wall of heat behind him, enveloped.

But something isn’t right. His suit is still on, even the waistcoat, which isn’t that abnormal, but his shoes are still pinching his toes and there’s a familiar pressure at his wrist.

Rough palms grab his hand, sliding the IV gently out of his vein.

“Arthur?” A hot puff of breath brushes his ear and his eyes snap open.

He’s lying on his side, curled up practically in the fetal position, staring at the dull gray walls of the mark’s apartment. The pillows smell like flowery shampoo, like the hair he’d pressed his face to, eyes squeezed shut, for a brief moment.

Eames had played the mark’s mistress. He hadn’t done anything wrong, and the mark had snapped anyway, wrapped his hands around her throat – around Eames’ throat, and Arthur had sprung into action without thinking, breaking Eames’ – the forge’s neck. And the mark had turned on Arthur.

There’s still a dull ache in his stomach from where the steel-toed boot had connected over and over, too low to crack a rib and puncture a lung, but hard enough to rupture organs and cause internal bleeding. He breathes in the shampoo, the scent that had been under his nose when he wound his fingers through the forge’s hair and twisted.

The mark is lying on the floor, still under, still wearing those fucking boots.

“Arthur?” Eames whispers, one hand hovering at Arthur’s hipbone as he leans over, curled too close from where he’d been under, only moments ago for Eames but maybe an hour by Arthur’s count.

“Yeah,” he rasps, blinking the gray, faded paint in and out of focus.

“Oh,” Eames breathes, pressing his face to Arthur’s neck, wrapping his arm around his chest. He inhales deeply, exhales with a kiss to Arthur’s hot skin.

“We should go before he wakes up,” Arthur says, but he presses back further, wrapping his hand around Eames’.

There’s still fifteen minutes left on the timer, and they lie there entangled for ten, breathing.

Re: Arthur/Eames, lol who needs titles?

[gollumgollum.livejournal.com]

Awww, boys. <3

Re: Arthur/Eames, lol who needs titles?

[seeingrightly.livejournal.com]

Boys indeed. <3

Re: Arthur/Eames, lol who needs titles?

[chaoticallyclev.livejournal.com]

♥__♥ daaw. good case of cuddles needed!

Re: Arthur/Eames, lol who needs titles?

[seeingrightly.livejournal.com]

when don't these boys need cuddles? <3

Re: Arthur/Eames, lol who needs titles?

[fishspots.livejournal.com]

Oh, poor Arthur and Eames. They definitely deserve some cuddles. <3 This is wonderful.

Re: Arthur/Eames, lol who needs titles?

[seeingrightly.livejournal.com]

This is the first thing in ages you haven't read before I posted! Weird.

Anyway, THANKS BRO. <3

Re: Arthur/Eames, lol who needs titles?

[airgiodslv.livejournal.com]

Oh, yes, this. It's so perfectly quiet and still.