#soooo fluffy

[adrinktostopyourthirst]

What would it be like to share your first i love you with bucky? I think it would be ADORABLE !

Oh, it would. Sorta…

Though Bucky is a feeler with most things, his conditioning to think everything through makes him doubtful and insecure sometimes, despite being practical. He would never know. Would have no idea what had started to creep up on him while dating you.

The way he had started to zone out when he looked at you, the urge to make your life easier all the time, or the unexpected hums and groans he would let slip whenever you hugged or kissed - Bucky felt wary about those things, the loss of control around you and the way his spine would loosen whenever you were around.

So he reeled it in at first and only took his time to stare at you when you were still asleep or not trying to catch his attention, only to catch him lost in thought. He tried to really listen to what you were saying, even if your voice alone would make him slip out of focus. What the fuck was wrong with him? He almost started resenting you and the way you started to soften him. But he couldn’t possibly, because even fighting you and teasing you would turn him pliant and weak. But in a good way, where he could look forward to any interaction with you, even if he knew you would yell at him. He loved it when you were angry and loved apologising to you even more. Not that anyone was ever allowed to know about that.

But my God, Bucky couldn’t stop thinking about you and Sam figured it out because everything reminded Bucky of something you did or said. To the point that even Bucky realised he had a hard time talking about anything other than you. So obviously Sam had teased him about it and Bucky huffed and grunted with rolling eyes at his friend’s relentlessness.

And it drove Sam to keep teasing his dear friend, until Bucky froze and stared back at him with about as much shock on his face as when Ayo dismembered his vibranium arm for the first time. All be cause Sam had said: “Jeez, Bucky… You are so in love with that woman, I might become jealous of ya!”

And Sam had only frowned when he looked at his baffled friend. Why was he so shocked?

“In love?” Bucky had asked and Sam breathed a laugh with amusement and disbelief at his friend.

“Buck… Are you kidding?”

“You think I’m in love?” Bucky asked again, ignoring his colleague’s disbelief. Sam smiled softly when it dawned on him that Bucky had no idea what love felt like.

“Yeah, Buck. This is love if I’ve ever seen it.”

And Bucky had turned away to collect his thoughts, staring down at the drink he had ordered, only to nearly fly off his chair, slam a sum of money down, slap Sam’s shoulder with a wide grin before zooming out of the building.

And he got to your place, all breathless, but with feet so light he felt he might take off into the skies. He knocked and knocked and knocked at your door until you opened with confusion etched into your beautiful face. Your frown deepened when you took in Bucky’s dark, yet relaxed stare, his eyes roving over you with determination.

“Bucky. I thought you wouldn’t be here until after dinner?” You asked before stepping away to let him in. He had quickly shut the door for you and swallowed hard when you walked back to the living room, assuming he would follow.

But he was stuck in his spot at the entrance, his eyes on you with their usual intensity. Though when you turned around, you started to worry. It was different this time. There was a depth and sparkle in his eyes that made you shudder.

“You alright?” You had asked as you slowly trailed back towards him.

“Oh, I’m fucking great.” He responded and a smile instantly appeared on your face at this unusual emotion on his face, despite the typical Bucky way of expressing it.

“Then why that look?” You cocked your head to the side as your arms wrapped around his neck.

“I just realised something. Something I didn’t know was possible, actually.” He murmured as his eyes held yours captive.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“And what epiphany did you have then, ancient soldier of mine?” You teased as your fingers played with his short hair at the back of his head.

“Oh, I’m fucking in love with you.” He sang quietly, making you freeze in your spot as your face dropped into that of pure shock.

“You…” You trailed off.

“I love you.” He whispered softly, his fingers rubbing at the small of your back as a smile tugged at his lips, so soft and gentle, you almost fell to the floor at the sight. “I don’t know why I didn’t see it, but of course it would be you I’d fall in love with first.”

“First?” Was all you could utter, your voice quiet.

“I sure as hell know I’ve never felt this way before.” He shrugged, his words careful then, as if you would run from him. “I never thought I could feel this way, to be honest.”

“You fell in love?” You asked, disbelief lining your voice, though a smile cracked through.

“So hard, I think I shattered my brain.”

Full on grinning after that, you pressed a toothy kiss to his lips. “I love you too, soldier.”

“Good.” He muttered, “Good…”

[gotta-draw-em-all-daily]

Day one hundred seventy nine 179 Mareep

[gumnut-logic]

Wrapped

Some total fluff for @womble1​ I hope your day improves ::hugs::

-o-o-o-

Virgil rolled over in bed and snuggled into soft satin pillows. The stubble on his cheek caught in the smooth material and he frowned.

His bed sheets were cotton.

It took him a moment, but the dots connected. Lady Penelope. Post-London rescue. Scott and John and some business with their agent. Virgil just wanting to sleep away the ache in his bones.

He snuggled deeper into the too-soft bed.

He ignored the various twinges that proved jumping off the Eye hadn’t been the greatest idea he’d ever had, even though the move had been successful.

Scott and John had not been impressed. Apparently, his landing ‘scared the bejesus’ out of both of them.

But Virgil knew his equipment. His suit took the majority of the strain and he would put up with the rest.

It was worth it.

He was pretty sure the little girl he caught agreed with him.

A sigh and he curled up a little more, his face buried in satin.

He would have drifted off again, but a sudden noise broke his pleasant fog.

He blinked.

That, of course, let light into his brain. It was only dull, wet and cloudy light cast through a crack in the massive drapes over the window, but it was enough to trigger unwanted consciousness.

He scrunched his eyes shut and smushed his face deeper into the pillow.

And let himself drift.

Only to be disturbed again by the same squeak. A branch on a window? It was almost a whimper.

He lay there, brain anticipating the noise again.

Sure enough, there it was. It sounded almost human.

That, of course, triggered his responder instincts. Or was it his big brother reflexes? Possibly the latter after that time he found a three-year-old Gordon curled up under his bed in the middle of the night.

He had made a similar sound while he shivered.

That thought booted his brain properly. Nothing like concern for a brother to provide stimulation to his brain.

But Gordon was an adult. Even Allie was beyond the terrified nightmare stage. Well, the childhood ones. They each had their own share of adult nightmare fodder.

They had different techniques to tackle those.

Another whimper.

Yes, it was definitely a whimper.

Virgil forced his eyes open, squinting against the light and blinking until he could handle it. With reluctance he pulled the covers aside and sat up. He was only in his underwear and despite the manor being fully air conditioned to a comfortable temperature, England comfortable was very different from tropical Tracy Island comfortable.

He shivered, every hair on his body standing to attention in an attempt to prevent his body heat from escaping.

But he was used to ignoring his body in favour of a purpose and the whimper came again.

The room was very large, opulent and, if he was honest, a little overdone to his liking. The plush carpet was cool under his bare feet as he stood up.

His uniform lay folded neatly on a sideboard. He didn’t remember doing that and vaguely wondered if one of his brothers had attended to it. Scott had been hovering over dinner, blue eyes pinned on him the entire time, assessing his health status.

Virgil would have protested extensively, but he had been exhausted. He didn’t even complain when Scott had taken him by an arm and led him to the room that he usually used when on a layover in London. Virgil had at least undressed himself, showered and crawled into bed unsupervised.

Virgil would bet some of his life savings that Scott had slunk in after he had fallen asleep and ‘tidied up’. He wouldn’t have been surprised if that tidying involved a mediscanner either.

Wouldn’t be the first time.

Virgil sighed.

Next to the sideboard a set of his casual clothes had been laid out. Several years ago, he had stashed some clothes here, both formal and casual. After all, his uniform was only fit for certain occasions and having been caught out wearing it while Lady Penelope had guests one time…no, he now came prepared.

He wondered if it had been Scott who dug out the flannel and jeans. It could have been Parker. The gruff butler did have a heart of gold under all that rough exterior and a soft spot for Tracy brothers.

Except perhaps Gordon, but that was history and ninety-five percent Gordon’s fault.

His flannel shirt, unlike his neatly folded jeans, was tossed in a heap on the chair. He wouldn’t have considered it odd, but along with the next whimper, his shirt twitched.

Frowning he took a step closer just in time to see the material move again.

What?

The air conditioner must have engaged because a sudden breeze had Virgil shivering.

His shirt twitched and whimpered again and Virgil found himself wondering if the manor had a rodent problem.

Holding his breath and mentally crossing his fingers that he wasn’t about to have a rat crawl up his arm, he tugged at his shirt.

And found Sherbet curled up in its folds asleep.

Virgil blinked.

The little pug twitched and whimpered, obviously dreaming.

Virgil’s heart melted.

Sherbet whimpered again and Virgil couldn’t help himself. He slipped a hand under the little dog and, wrapping the flannel shirt gently around him, curled him up in his arms.

The pug stirred, looked up at him, let off a half-heart grumble of a bark, closed his eyes again and curled up against Virgil’s chest.

Virgil held him just that little bit tighter.

Walking softly back to the bed, the engineer slipped in one-handed between the covers and lay the little pug down beside him. Another whimper and Sherbet snuggled into the sheets.

Virgil shivered again and pulled the blankets around himself, careful not to disturb Sherbet, before snuggling himself back into his pillow.

The little pug twitched again, but Virgil reached out a hand and lay gentle fingers on flannel and fur.

They were licked ever so briefly.

And the room fell silent.

A brief thought of caring brothers and Virgil melted into the bed, drifting back to sleep.

-o-o-o-

[musicprincess1990]

Flufftober, Day 4

"Wounded"

Another of my favorite tropes: Sherlock going BAT. SHIT. CRAZY. When someone hurts his Molly. *maniacal laugh*

*

“You’re absolutely certain?”

Dr. Jones gave a tight smile.  “Yes, Mr. Holmes, I am.  All the tests came back normal.”

“Tests can be inadequate, equipment can malfunction—”

“Mr. Holmes!” she cut him off loudly, then gave a barely noticeable wince at her tone and volume.  Molly cringed a bit herself; Adelaide Jones had been hand-picked by Mycroft, highly recommended for her lengthy experience and great patience.  And yet, Sherlock was enough to test even her limits, and certainly seemed to be doing so now.  “I can assure you, we have been extremely thorough.”

“Yes, Sherlock, I’m fine,” Molly laid a reassuring hand on her husband’s arm.  “We both are,” she added, her free hand cradling her swollen belly.

Truth be told, Molly had been concerned as well.  The accident (well, intentional accident, caused by a criminal that Sherlock had already caught and was being “dealt with,” according to Mycroft) had done little more than give her whiplash and an impressive goose egg above her left eyebrow.  But she hadn’t been concerned about herself.  She was well into her second trimester, chances of miscarriage were far lower at this point, but she’d wanted to be sure.  And so had Sherlock, though apparently he would be harder to convince.

Dr. Jones went on, her voice back to its usual calm.  “The baby’s vital signs are normal, he or she seems perfectly healthy.  We’ve kept Mrs. Holmes overnight for observation, per your request, and aside from you terrorizing my nurses, no serious harm has been done.”

Sherlock was silent for a moment, then took a slow, deep breath through his nose. “Very well.  Thank you, Doctor Jones.”

“It’s my pleasure,” she smiled, then turned to Molly.  “I’ll go and get that discharge paperwork ready.  Back in a few.”  And with a last smile, she left the room.

“I’m going to call John,” he muttered, already pulling out his phone.

Molly rolled her eyes.  “Honestly, Sherlock, he is going to tell you the exact same thing!”

“Oh, please!” he scoffed.  “Are we talking about the same John Watson?  You saw how he was with Mary when she was carrying Rosie.  He hovered over her constantly, followed her every move, and asked her endless probing questions about her diet, her ankles, her frequency of urination—”

“Sounds familiar,” she grumbled.

He stilled.  “I haven’t been doing that.”

“Yes, you bloody well have!”

Sherlock opened his mouth to argue, but caught the no-nonsense look on his wife’s face.  The same look she used on Rosie whenever they were minding her.  And dammit, she was right.  He sighed heavily, sitting in the abysmal chair beside Molly’s bed.  “I’m sorry.”

She sought his hand out with her own and twined their fingers together.  “I’m not angry with you, Sherlock.  Really, it just proves how important we are to you.”

“You are,” he said, his voice soft but fervent.  “Molly, if anything happened to you…” He trailed off, shaking his head and swallowing hard.

Molly lifted the hand that held his and pressed a kiss to his fingers.  “But it didn’t.  I’m fine, baby’s fine, and we’re both ready to go home.”

He paused, considering this for a moment.  “I don’t suppose I can change your mind?”  She smiled and shook her head.  Sherlock nodded, and with another sigh, finally relaxed.  He nudged her gently in the side, and she carefully shifted over, leaving him enough room to perch himself on the edge of the bed.  Once seated, he bent and kissed her slowly, tenderly, almost reverently, then rested his head against hers.  “Well… Doctor Jones did miss one thing.”

“Hmm, and what’s that?”

Sherlock beamed and pressed another kiss to her lips.  “It’s a boy.”

[metamorphmigus]

The Bigger they Are, The More there is to Hit

Ode to Scriabin’s beautiful wings and his audacious tenacity

[headcanons-in-disguise]

Let’s say there were multiple human liaisons on the ship; may I request HC’s of Fort Max with the smallest/shortest one of the human liaisons, who is kinda and a lil shy? Romantic HC’s like him getting a crush on them and what they’re relationship would be?? Thanks!!

Eeeeek! Yes! 

The first time the human sees him, they’re awestruck. He’s huge, powerful, and walks so proudly. Then he turns that naturally stern expression on them and they just kinda freeze.

They’re tiny for a human, which is like, extra small, in comparison to him. He’s an Autobot, yeah, but, that hugeness is daunting.

Fortunately for them, Max loves all things cute, and they fit the bill.

Fort Max is damaged, no one can deny that. Psychological recovery will be a long and hard process for him. Which is why, even when he becomes find of this human, he keeps his distance. He’s hurt people before, and they’re so tiny. One misstep could be fatal. 

Still, he can’t help but keep an eye on them. He’s a protector by nature, and he worries that someone might accidentally harm them. As such, they have to deal with a giant Fort Max presence following them from time to time. It’s a little intimidating. 

When they finally build up the courage to approach him, he remains very, very still, afraid of moving too much when they’re so close. Then they introduce themselves and ask for his name. When he gives it, they smile, blushing slightly, and compliment him. 

He’s a goner from that moment onward. 

Still, he’s worried about this whole thing. They won’t want him. He’s a different species and he’s traumatized and he’s huge and, and, and- there are so many negative reasons in his processor. 

But, they stick around, befriending him. 

The first time they tell him that he makes them feel safe, his spark almost pops right out of its chamber. It’s also the first time they see him smile. 

With some outside encouragement, a tentative little romance blooms. Max slowly works past his fear of moving around too much when they’re near and actually spends some time cradling the human in his hands. 

They’re a good match. Max makes the human feel brave because he’s so big and strong, and the human makes Max feel like maybe everything will be alright. 

[fsyuzuruhanyu]

Baby Yuzu at school responding to a student-conducted interview (?) how adorable. I love how you can still spot his laugh-and-clap-like-a-seal habit even nowadays haha. I live for old footage like this.

[skullcanons]

Toriel?

Toriel is gorgeous. With her fluffy fur and everything? That I’d bet she keeps really clean? Yeah. But she’s goat mom sooooooo-