#he is very soft and huggable

[bashfulbun]

I had a teddy, and I thought why wouldn't I dress him as Clive. So here you go. All of the clothes are individually removable

I'll redo his coat another day, I don't like the lining it's too light, but didn't had enough fabric so welp (fun fact, his vest is made out of some of my old bed sheets, makes him even softer and comfy)

[tangledinink]

HE'S HERE...

@theaspieasp thANK YOU SO MUCH he's precious and perfect and i love him forever.

[propenseverbosity]

✨HE HATH ARRIVED✨

Got my Gale plushie today 😊

[theanonymousninja247]

💙✨Vincent✨💙

GUYS GUYS GUYS GUYS GUYS

EVERYBODY SHUT UP(affectionately) N LOOK!

LOOK AT MY SON IN THE MOST DARLING STYLE

BY THE INCREDIBLY TALENTED and I mean incredibly talented @gooeseyleo!! Please PlEaSe PLEASE go check out their Future Leo story! It’s very delightful and their style is very nommable!

ANYWAY BEHOLD MY BOY

[manuinout]

Why am I having a crush on this guy? /rh /nm

[bughusbands]

I've been sitting on this for TOO LONG but look! I made myself a bugsona! His name is Norman Worman and he is a totally normal guy :)

(i know velvet worms aren't bugs but you cant stop me)

[maretriarch]

big bird might be the best muppet

[galahues]

I'm new here sorry that I don't know his name but I would love to hug the cute Wolf boy oh my goodness he looks so soft. (Also to the artist stay hydrated eat enough food and treat yourself you're doing amazing)

Theo is definitely a 10/10 on the huggable scale!!

[valiant-portabella-pirkko]

great things about developing Ruju in reverse: because I started with his messed up Badmander version I now get to deconstruct how he wound up that way, and what specific positive traits he has that ultimately would be corrupted by a lifetime of misery and loss

less great things about developing Ruju in reverse: I still need to make him in-game so I don't have any actual references of him.

[zeroseuniverse]

Lovesick Fool

Word count: 1.3K Summary: “But you’re so huggable,” he murmured, tucking his face into the crook of your neck. “Boss,” Wonwoo finally spoke, sounding both resigned and mildly entertained. “We were in the middle of something.” “Yeah,” Vernon chimed in. “You were just threatening some guy’s entire bloodline, remember?” Pairing: S.coups x reader

Taglist: @haaruki  @agaha127 @zaycie @sh0dor1 @tinyelfperson @lezleeferguson-120  @ltfirecracker

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The name Choi Seungcheol carried weight. It was spoken in hushed whispers, feared by enemies, and respected by allies. He was the leader of the most powerful gang in the city—ruthless, cunning, and absolutely untouchable.

But when you walked into the room?

“Baby!” His entire face lit up like a lovestruck teenager, and his men immediately braced themselves for the inevitable shift in atmosphere.

Gone was the terrifying gang leader who could make a man disappear with just a look. In his place was a doting, borderline clingy boyfriend who had absolutely no shame in displaying his affection for you.

You barely had time to react before Seungcheol had crossed the room in long strides, sweeping you into his arms. “You’re finally here,” he sighed against your hair, holding you tight like he hadn’t seen you in months instead of a few hours.

From their spots around the room, his men exchanged knowing looks. Jeonghan rolled his eyes while Mingyu struggled not to laugh. “Here we go again,” Joshua muttered under his breath.

“Cheol,” you giggled, nudging him. “I’m literally right here, you don’t have to suffocate me.”

“But you’re so huggable,” he murmured, tucking his face into the crook of your neck.

“Boss,” Wonwoo finally spoke, sounding both resigned and mildly entertained. “We were in the middle of something.”

“Yeah,” Vernon chimed in. “You were just threatening some guy’s entire bloodline, remember?”

Seungcheol barely spared them a glance. “And? That can wait.” He pulled away just enough to cup your face, his thumb stroking your cheek with so much tenderness it was almost jarring. “Have you eaten today?”

Minghao sighed. “It’s like watching a tiger turn into a house cat.”

Seungcheol ignored them, waiting for your answer with absolute sincerity. You smiled, placing your hands on his chest. “I did, don’t worry.”

“Good,” he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead.

Meanwhile, the poor man who had been at the receiving end of Seungcheol’s threats was still tied to a chair, watching the entire scene unfold with pure disbelief. “Are we just going to pretend this is normal?” he blurted out.

Jun patted his shoulder. “Oh, you have no idea.”

The man tied to the chair looked around, completely baffled by the situation. One moment, he was about to wet himself under Choi Seungcheol’s glare—the next, the feared gang leader was melting into a doting mess over you, his entire demeanor softer than a marshmallow left in the sun.

“What the hell…” the man muttered, looking at the rest of the gang. “This ain’t normal.”

Jeonghan smirked. “Oh, it’s very normal.”

Joshua crossed his arms. “You just happen to be lucky enough to witness it firsthand.”

Before the man could fully process what they meant, Seungcheol finally turned his attention back to him. He still had one arm wrapped around your waist, keeping you close as he regarded the trembling man with the cold indifference he was known for.

“Now,” Seungcheol said, his voice shifting from lovestruck to lethal in an instant. “Where were we?”

The man flinched. “Y-You were threatening to—”

Seungcheol sighed dramatically, resting his chin on your head. “You know, I was really angry earlier. But now that Y/N’s here, I’m feeling generous.”

You raised an eyebrow at him. “Generous, huh?”

“Mhm.” Seungcheol’s fingers lazily traced patterns on your waist, and his men exchanged glances, knowing exactly what was coming. “I’ll let you decide what happens to him.”

The man’s eyes widened in horror. “What?! Why—”

“You should be thanking her,” Seungcheol cut him off with a smirk. “She’s the reason you still have a chance to walk out of here.”

You hummed in thought, tapping your chin as you pretended to contemplate. The man paled. He had no idea who you were, but the fact that you held this much sway over Choi Seungcheol meant you were just as dangerous.

Or worse—you were the weakness.

And Seungcheol was completely unashamed of it.

“I say let him go,” you finally decided with a smile. “I don’t think he’s brave enough to cross you again, right?”

The man frantically nodded. “Never! I swear!”

Seungcheol sighed, looking like he was only agreeing because you asked. “Fine.” He flicked his wrist, and Wonwoo moved to untie the man. “But if I see your face again, I won’t be so nice.”

The man scrambled to his feet the moment he was freed, bowing repeatedly before bolting out of the warehouse like his life depended on it.

Mingyu whistled. “That guy’s never gonna sleep right again.”

Seungcheol, completely unbothered, turned his full attention back to you, his smile soft. “You wanna get something to eat?”

“You were just interrogating someone,” Vernon deadpanned.

“And now I’m done,” Seungcheol replied smoothly. “Let’s go, baby.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help smiling. “Fine. But you’re paying.”

Seungcheol grinned, pressing a kiss to your cheek before taking your hand and leading you out.

His gang stared after the two of you, shaking their heads.

“Absolutely whipped,” Minghao muttered.

“The scariest part,” Joshua said with a laugh, “is that he doesn’t even care.”

Seungcheol kept a firm but gentle grip on your hand as he led you out of the warehouse, completely unfazed by the stares of his men. He was Choi Seungcheol—the name that sent shivers down people’s spines, the leader who could crush his enemies without blinking.

And yet, here he was, grinning like a fool just because you agreed to dinner with him.

As you reached his car, he opened the door for you with an exaggerated flourish. “Your chariot awaits, my love.”

You gave him a look. “You just threatened a man’s entire existence ten minutes ago.”

“And now I’m taking my favorite person out to eat. I’m a man of many talents.” He winked before shutting the door behind you.

Once he slid into the driver’s seat, he reached over to buckle your seatbelt for you—something he always did, much to the amusement of his gang. He was perfectly capable of ordering people around to do his bidding, yet he insisted on personally making sure you were safe.

“You know, your guys are going to start thinking I have too much power over you,” you teased.

Seungcheol smirked as he started the engine. “Oh, they already do. And they’re right.”

You scoffed. “That’s dangerous for someone like you.”

He shot you a glance, his gaze fond but laced with something deeper. “Not when it’s you.”

The drive to the restaurant was peaceful, a stark contrast to the chaos that usually surrounded his life. Seungcheol made sure to keep one hand on the wheel while the other rested on your thigh, his thumb tracing idle patterns against your skin.

By the time you arrived, it was clear that Seungcheol had no interest in keeping a low profile. The restaurant—one of the most exclusive in the city—was filled with high-profile figures, some of whom stiffened the moment they spotted him walking in.

It wasn’t just fear—it was respect.

But Seungcheol didn’t pay them any mind. His entire focus was on you, pulling out your chair before taking the seat across from you. “Order whatever you want,” he said. “Not that I wouldn’t force the owner to make something off-menu if you asked.”

You shook your head with a laugh. “You really have no shame.”

“Not when it comes to you.”

The two of you settled into easy conversation, though you couldn’t help but notice how some people kept sneaking glances at your table—some out of curiosity, others in outright disbelief.

The Choi Seungcheol they knew was a terrifying force to be reckoned with. The man sitting across from you? He was currently pushing a plate toward you with a pout.

“Try this,” he insisted. “It’s good.”

“I have my own food, Cheol.”

“But this is better.”

You rolled your eyes but leaned forward to take a bite, much to his satisfaction.

Across the restaurant, a group of men who had been in very tense negotiations with Seungcheol earlier that week were watching in shock. One of them leaned forward.

“That’s him, right?”

“Yeah.”

“The same guy who almost shattered my kneecaps?”

“Yep.”

“...And he’s feeding his girlfriend like a lovesick idiot?”

“Apparently.”

“...Should we still be scared of him?”“Oh, absolutely.”

[addictsitter]

this is in no way actually relevant to the character, i think, but s4 finn’s wardrobe with the sweaters was such a good look for cory

[raevalyntine]

what happens when you buy a little plushie of the man you love?

(zayne fluff! a gift for all zayne lovers out there, let's shower him with the love he deserves)

Akso Hospital had always been proud of its reputation—cutting-edge technology, pioneering research, and a surgical team led by some of the brightest minds in the field.

At the very center of it all?

Dr. Zayne Li. Their prodigy. Their miracle. Their youngest Starcatcher Award recipient. The man whose steady hands had rewritten the outcomes of congenital heart defects. Whose name was printed in journals and whispered in lecture halls. Cold, brilliant, focused. A doctor with a heart so carefully guarded, it felt like a privilege just to see him smile.

You knew better. You’d seen the version the world never got to see.

The one who braided a little girl’s hair in the pediatric wing because she missed her mom. The one who kept your favorite tea stocked in his office. The one whose silence was never empty, but filled with a love so steady you could feel it in your bones.

You didn’t know that the board of directors had been planning a new mascot for the pediatric wing. Or that every single person in the room had immediately, unanimously, said his name. Zayne. Beloved by patients. Respected by interns. The silent strength behind Akso’s brilliance.

So when you walked into the hospital that afternoon, expecting nothing more than a quick lunch date with your snowman of a boyfriend, you weren’t prepared for the way your world stilled.

Because there—tucked between informational brochures and pastel signage, under the soft hum of the hospital lights—

Was a plushie. Of Zayne. Your Zayne.

Your breath caught in your chest.

It was so small. Maybe the size of your palm. But the craftsmanship was unreal—his pale beige three-piece suit, stitched to perfection. His crisp white shirt. The tie you knot every morning as his eyes find yours, and he leans in—quiet, close—to kiss your forehead like you’re his first breath of peace for the day. A miniature stethoscope rested on his tiny chest. His neatly styled jet-black hair was captured in soft tufts, complete with that single familiar swoop at the front. And his expression—gentle, smiling, just a little—was so unmistakably him, it felt like someone had reached into your chest and sewn your feelings into fabric.

His embroidered green eyes were thoughtful. His blushing cheeks were subtle, like warmth just beginning to bloom.

Your fingers trembled as you reached out, brushing the plushie’s cheek with your thumb. And suddenly—your chest felt too full. Was it the hospital lights? Or your hormones? Or just the impossible, overwhelming truth of how much you loved him?

“Oh my god,” you whispered, hands lifting to your mouth. “Is this... Zayne?”

The nurse nearby laughed gently. “Yeah. New pediatric mascot. The kids adore him. Honestly, so do the parents.”

You were already at the counter before she finished speaking, your heart soft and stormy all at once. You held the plush like it might shatter in your hands. It was just… so him. And something about seeing him this way—gentle, warm, huggable—made your chest ache with a pride too big for words.

Then, a small voice near you pulled you out of the moment.

“That’s Dr. Zayne,” a little boy said to his mom, pointing. “He was really nice to me when I had to stay here. He let me listen to my own heartbeat.”

You nearly choked on a sob.

Crouching down, you held the plushie out to him. “Would you like one?”

His eyes widened. “Really?”

You nodded and bought one without hesitation, handing it to him like it was the most natural thing in the world. “He’d want you to have one. He’s… pretty special, huh?”

The boy hugged it tight. “Yeah. He is. He’s my hero!”

And somewhere behind you, footsteps padded softly down the corridor. Zayne had just stepped out of his office, clipboard in hand, his white coat fluttering gently behind him. He stopped the moment his eyes found you—kneeling beside a child, handing him a plushie version of him, your face aglow with so much love it nearly knocked the breath from his lungs.

And then he saw it—the plushie pressed to your chest, your touch light and reverent, like you were holding more than just fabric and thread. He saw the way your fingers paused over its stitched little smile. The way you looked down at it with a softness so achingly full of devotion, he could barely stand still.

And for a long, suspended second, Zayne forgot the beeping monitors, the lab reports, the surgeries waiting to be reviewed. Because in that moment, standing quietly in the hallway, he realised— No professional honour had ever made him feel like this. No accolade, no award, no headline about his “exceptional precision” or “gifted hands” had ever made him feel the way you did.

Like he wasn’t just someone who knew the rhythm of a heart—but had become the reason one beat at all.

He stepped closer. You looked up, startled—but then you softened. And smiled.

You lifted the plush slightly. “Look who I found.”

Zayne let out the smallest laugh, something caught between amusement and awe. “You bought a plushie of me?”

You stood, hugging it gently to your chest. “I bought two, actually. Gave one to a little boy who said you helped him listen to his heartbeat.”

His eyes lowered. “I remember him.”

“I’m really proud of you,” you whispered.

His hand came up, gently brushing a strand of hair behind your ear.

“I thought it was ridiculous, honestly,” he murmured. “Being made into a mascot. I didn’t think it meant anything. But…”

His fingers brushed against yours, just where they rested on the plush’s sleeve.

“…seeing you hold it like that—it feels like it does.”

Your voice trembled with tenderness as you whispered, “It does.”

And right there, in the middle of Akso Hospital, surrounded by laughter and life and the quiet hum of machines—he kissed your forehead.

Soft. Lingering. Like he was stitching the moment into the very fabric of his soul.

You didn’t say anything more. You didn’t need to.

A single, quiet “I love you” passed between you, unspoken, but felt in the brush of his lips against your skin.

The plush stayed in your hands the rest of the day—clutched to your chest, warm and cherished. Like a tiny, stitched promise of everything the real him already was.

Yours. Completely.

[montesmithart]

Fruity dragon character I designed for myself! ☀️🍉

His name is Fiji and he’s based on pitaya, kiwi, starfruit and watermelons <3 Also has a little pet friend named Banan 🍌

Design overview:

- those tail thingies are not scales, they are soft growths. to hide them, Fiji just shakes his tail. then they fold up and look like folded scales

- two growths on his colorful tail are white

- has soft growths on the neck which look like a starfruit. they are even softer and more delicate than the tail ones

- ears are kiwi-like 🥝 for some reason they also remind me of kiwi with chocolate, which makes me want to eat them all the time xD

- white eyelashes, pink eye irises

- wings on the top and bottom have different patterns - there’s a kiwi pattern on the top and a pitaya pattern on the bottom

- the pawpads are starfruit-like 🐾

- horns always look beautifully shiny and shimmery, like a very bright and delicious dessert

- Fiji has a watermelon on his back! 👀✨

- has a pet friend with a talking name, Banan. he’s just a handsome guy. very funny, can replicate the sound of any animal and is super huggable :D

[hellfirebarnes]

Slow-Burns - Part 3

PART 1 PART 2 PART 4 PART 5

I split this up in several, shorter parts because I know the feeling when you want to read a fic but don't have the time or energy to get through a 10k+ words one. Also if you hate my writing you can just read part 1 and then leave it. Win-win I guess?

Anyway, this is set after Thunderbolts so if you haven't seen it - spoilers I guess? It absolutely does not follow canon, but yeah better to be safe than sorry.

Summary: Bucky has fallen. Hopelessly. And the only thing more hopeless is his team trying to help him get to the end of this slow-burn.

Bucky x fem!SHIELD!reader

1.7K words

Fluff, ''normal'' violence and descriptions of injuries. For sure out of character stuff, but I am who I am. Your appearence is barely desribed what I can remember, I think your hair and a couple types what clothes you're wearing?

You're referred to as ''Agent'' and ''Sunshine'' in a desperate attempt from me to not use Y/N.

Let me know if there's anything else I should warn about.

Otherwise, enjoy :)

Bucky scanned the briefing file. Intel breach. Corporate sabotage. Medium risk, low collateral. High-tech infiltration. One scientist needed extraction. Half the mission screamed you - cyber-forensic work, silent infiltration, backdoor escape route.

He frowned. “She’s not coming?”

Yelena leaned back in her chair, sipping bad coffee from a novelty mug that read ‘Crime, But Make It Cute.’

“She’s not coming.”

Bucky’s heart skipped. “Why?”

“She has the day off,” Ava answered, scrolling through her own tablet.

“But we need someone who can spoof an encrypted relay system on the move,” he said, voice flat but tight. “That’s her.”

“Relax, grandpa,” John muttered. “We’ve got it covered. Ava rewrote a protocol last night, and Bob is flying overwatch.”

Bucky looked back down at the tablet, annoyed. Not at the team. Not at the mission. At the fact that it felt wrong without you. And he hated how that felt.

“She asked for the day off two weeks ago,” Yelena added, tapping through something on her screen. “She deserves it.”

Alexei, who had been uncharacteristically quiet, suddenly grinned like he’d been waiting for someone to ask.

“Is big day,” he said, voice full of pride. “I set her up with very nice man. Name is Luka. Banker. Hair like lion. Very symmetrical face.”

Bucky looked up, slowly. “…You what?”

“Date!” Alexei beamed. “They go to brunch. Then art museum. Maybe share pretzel. Classic courtship!”

The silence that followed was deafening. Bucky didn’t move.

“Wait,” John said, looking up from his file. “She’s on a date?”

“Yes!” Alexei slammed a celebratory hand on the table. “I make things happen!”

Yelena blinked. “With Luka? From your bowling team?”

“He does not just bowl! He reads books. Big hands. Gentle eyes.”

Ava smirked. “You sound like you’re in love with him yourself.”

“He is very huggable!”

Bucky barely heard any of it. He was still stuck on date.

Something cold settled under his ribs. He hadn’t known you were seeing someone. He hadn’t even thought to ask. You’d always been here, orbiting close. And now, without warning, you were… elsewhere. With someone. Laughing, maybe. Wearing something soft and light. Smiling the way you always did when you were teasing him - except it wasn’t him.

Alexei’s words filtered back in. “—and if it goes well, they go to second location. Maybe fondue. Is very romantic.”

Bucky pushed back from the table. “I’ll be on the jet,” he muttered.

Yelena watched him go, eyes narrowing. When the door slid shut behind him, she turned to the others. “Okay,” she said. “That man is not okay.”

Bob tilted his head. “Is this the part where he acknowledges his feelings and makes a healthy emotional decision?”

John scoffed. “More like he’ll sit alone in the cargo bay and think about how her laugh sounds.”

Alexei frowned. “But she deserves strong man with good face symmetry. Why is Barnes sad?”

Ava deadpanned, “Because he’s been in denial for months.”

Two hours later Bucky sat strapped in, arms crossed, staring out the window like it had offended him personally. Every passing city below looked like a blur of decisions he hadn’t made. He thought about the last time you had touched his shoulder. How you’d laughed at one of Bob’s ridiculous stories. How you always leaned in just slightly when you talked to him, like what he said mattered more than anyone else’s words.

And now you were giving that attention to someone else. Some Luka.

He didn’t even know what the guy looked like, but his brain was helpfully painting the worst: tall, perfect teeth, probably called you beautiful without tripping over the word like Bucky always did in his head.

He wasn’t mad at you. Not even close. But he was angry with himself.

He’d wasted time. So much time, thinking if he just stayed close, you’d know. That he wouldn’t need to say anything. That maybe feelings could transfer telepathically through awkward silences and missed glances.

You were out there living. And he was up here… sulking.

He hadn’t wanted to make a move. He’d told himself he wasn’t ready. And now it might be too late.

Meanwhile, at a café in Brooklyn, you stirred your coffee absently as Luka droned on about crypto trends and some vacation he’d taken in the Alps with his “boys.” His shirt was tailored, his teeth were indeed perfect, and he had zero opinions on whether or not one should put glitter in combat boots.

You smiled politely. But your mind wandered.

To the Tower.

To the mission briefing you could have been part of.

To a certain grumpy super soldier with eyes like storm clouds and the emotional range of a wounded wolf.

God, you missed him already.

The Tower was quieter than usual that night. Post-mission debriefs were filed. John had gone out. Yelena and Ava were holed up somewhere with wine and a true crime doc. Alexei was in the sauna, probably giving unsolicited dating advice to someone over speakerphone.

And you? You were back.

Bucky noticed the moment you walked in. Not because you announced it - you never did - but because the air shifted.

He was in the common room, nursing a drink and reading the same paragraph of a book for the fourth time when he heard the elevator ding and your familiar footsteps cross the floor.

Then your voice. “Hey.”

He looked up.

You were dressed casually - simple, comfortable, but still carried yourself like you had a secret no one else was allowed to know. Except this time, you looked… tired. Not physically. Just disappointed in a way that sat deep in the shoulders.

Bucky sat up a little straighter. “You’re back.”

You sank onto the opposite end of the couch, kicking your shoes off with a sigh. “Yeah. Just got in.”

He hesitated. Then, carefully: “How was the date?”

You groaned and dropped your head back dramatically. “So bad. So impressively bad.”

Bucky’s heart did something traitorous - thrilled a little too much at the words. He worked hard not to show it.

“He was… polite. I’ll give him that. But every time I tried to steer the conversation toward something fun or personal, he’d redirect it back to himself. Or his investments. Or this stupid vacation he took with a group of guys who all wore matching swim trunks and called themselves the Wolfpack.”

Bucky blinked. “The what?”

“Right?” You said, eyes wide. “It felt like a sitcom where the punchline never came.”

A beat passed. He couldn’t help it—he smiled. Just a little.

You caught it. Your expression softened. “What?”

“Nothing. Just… sounds like hell.”

“It was. But the pretzel was good.”

You shared a quiet moment. Bucky’s chest felt warm and strange. He didn’t speak much, but he listened, and for once, he didn’t feel like he was drowning in his own silence. Maybe it was the soft tone in your voice. Maybe it was the way you’d looked at him when you walked in, like you’d missed him too.

He almost leaned in, just a little, like he was going to say something real for once.

And then Bob practically exploded into the room, arms wide, face beaming like a golden retriever who’d just spotted his favorite human.

Bucky immediately sat back, shoulders going tense.

You blinked, then smiled, bright and open. “Hey, Bob.”

Bob crossed the room in three giant steps and flopped onto the couch between you with a whoomp, knocking Bucky’s knee in the process. “You’re back! I missed you! Did you see the picture of Waffles I texted you?”

“I did,” you said, laughing. “The little hat was a nice touch.”

“He wore it willingly!” Bob looked at you with stars in his eyes. “Did you have a fun day off?”

You paused. “It had its moments.”

Bob turned to Bucky, clueless and radiant. “Didn’t we miss her, Buck? I kept saying we needed her on the mission. She would’ve handled that alarm system in two minutes.”

Bucky blinked slowly. “Yeah. We missed her.”

Your eyes flicked to Bucky, and something quiet passed between you again. But Bob, entirely unaware, continued cheerfully.

“I was thinking maybe we could all go get pancakes tomorrow. Celebrate a mission well done and your return. I know a place. They have whipped cream. And seasonal syrups. And they let you mix them. Which is chaos, but good chaos.”

You laughed again, and Bucky felt the familiar ache settle back into his chest. Because Bob wasn’t competition. He was just kind. Bright and open and honest in a way Bucky hadn’t been in years. Maybe ever. And you looked so comfortable around him. So light.

Bucky couldn’t even be mad. Not at Bob. Not at you. Just at himself, for still sitting there, wanting something and saying nothing.

He stood up quietly, draining the rest of his drink.

“Where you going?” You asked, noticing.

“Gonna turn in,” he said, avoiding your eyes. “Long day.”

“Goodnight,” you said softly.

He paused. Then looked at you - really looked at you. And for just a second, he let something show.

“Glad you’re back.”

And then he walked away.

Behind him, you watched him go. And for the first time since the date, you weren’t thinking about Luka at all.

Valentina slid a sleek folder across her desk. Inside was a badge, a keycard, a stack of onboarding documents, and a post-it with “Val we need a hot tub in the tower—seriously” scribbled in Yelena’s handwriting.

“I want you full-time, Agent. No more coming and going. A room and an official seat at the table. The team already treats you like you’re one of them. Might as well make it real.”

You bit the inside of your cheek. Your heart said yes immediately. But your brain, ever cautious, flipped through the mental index of what-ifs and escape routes.

“You sure you want to say no?” Val asked, arms folded, one brow arched.

You blinked. “Did I say no?”

“You hesitated.”

“I blinked.”

“Same thing in spy-speak.”

Then you thought about last night’s mission.

How Yelena had linked arms with you when you walked back into the jet, chattering about snack options. How Alexei had announced proudly that he’d protected “the two best sharpshooters in the world.” How Bob had quietly tucked your coat over your shoulders when you’d dozed off.

And how Bucky had looked at you before you parted ways. Like maybe he didn’t want to see you go.

You smiled softly.

“I’m in.”

[wendichester]

hey olivia darling!! absolutely love ur works, was just wondering what you think sam and dean's dynamic would be like with a shy and chubby reader? like what would they be like if they have a crush/have feelings (for the same girl or separately mueheueh)? i just feel like they would appreciate the (literal) softness and the shyness would be something interesting bc theyre very much not shy people lol

hope this isnt weird, its just as a chubby and shy girl myself it was a little sad to only see skinny and bold/outspoken love interests in the show, not that there's anything wrong with those women ofc, i just feel hella unrepresented lolz. would love to hear your thoughts or if you had the time or inspiration, a little drabble perhaps? no worries if not ofc, love lots 🫂❤️

hi baby! first of all, absolutely not weird at all—this is so valid and honestly? something that a lot of us think about but don’t always say out loud. you're not alone, babe. chubby & shy girls deserve epic, bone-melting, emotionally devastating supernatural romance too. period. am i shy? no. sadly i was cursed with a leo sun and moon, thus i'm loud and unsufferable BUT i am chubbs so, i gotcha. let's dive in!!

ᯓ★ sam winchester & shy, chubby reader

sam would be so down bad and it would sneak up on him. like, you walk into a room quietly, kinda head down, sweater sleeves past your wrists, and he’s instantly looking up from his laptop. not even in a “she’s hot” way (yet), but in a gentle intrigue kind of way. he’d notice how your voice gets quieter when you’re nervous. how you tug at your shirt when you think no one’s looking. he’s hyper-observant, always has been, and his brain goes “oh. she’s careful with her space. she’s not used to being looked at.” and suddenly he’s looking at you all the time. and girl, if you’re chubby? sam canonically does not care about conventionally skinny ideals. in fact, i think he’d love the way softness feels—like, deep comfort vibes. he’s been through so much loss and hard edges and trauma, so the way you feel warm and real and huggable would be like some kind of miracle to him. like he can finally breathe. also? he’d be so nervous to make you uncomfortable. he’d get really self-aware about his height and voice, like “am i too loud? did i scare her? should i back off?” total respectful green flag behavior. he’d wait for you to make the first move—except you won’t, because you’re shy, and he’ll spiral about that too 😭 expect lingering glances, asking if you’ve eaten, doing little things like fixing your laptop cord so you don’t trip. oh—and books. he’d 100% lend you books and leave little notes inside the pages like “this part reminded me of you.” he’s a slow burn, but the second you trust him enough to take his hand first? he’s yours. entirely.

ᯓ★ dean winchester & shy, chubby reader

now dean?? oh girl. he would be unwell. he’s not used to quiet girls throwing him off his game. normally he flirts, gets flirted with, rinse and repeat. but you? you look away when he smirks at you. you blush when he compliments your outfit. you can’t even look at him when he walks in shirtless (which he 100% starts doing more often just to see you turn pink). and it kills him in the best way. the chubbiness? he’s obsessed. like in a carnal, old-school, wants-to-worship-you kind of way. stretch marks? tummy squish? full thighs? he’s literally on his knees. not just because it’s hot (which it is), but because it’s yours. and because you’re shy about it, he goes extra soft with the compliments—low voice, barely-there touches, telling you, “you know you drive me crazy, right?” in a way that doesn’t feel like a joke. that makes your breath catch. dean’s the type to find what you hate about yourself and kiss it with reverence, like he’s mad that you don’t see what he sees. he’d call you “sweetheart” so often it becomes dangerous. he’d tease you, but it’d never be mocking. more like... coaxing. “what’s got you so quiet, sweetheart? me?” smirk. cheeky wink. a little too close. he’s a tease through and through, but he checks himself fast if he sees you retreat. he’d never push too far—he knows what fear looks like. but he’s also a touch-starved little mess, so the first time you lean on him, even for a second? done. he’d go all in. call you “his girl” to cas and sam. get jealous when you talk to other hunters. become your personal bodyguard. the minute he knows you're his safe place, he becomes yours, fully.

final thought, from my whole heart: you don’t need to be loud or skinny or “main character energy” to be worthy of romance. you are already worthy. your softness isn’t a flaw—it’s exactly the thing someone like sam or dean would crave after years of war and grief and sharp edges. don’t ever think you’re too quiet or too much. you’re not invisible. you’re the whole damn story, babe ♡

[padawan-snack-packer]

[You Give Them a Hug — Clones Edition]

🚨 HUG HEADCANONS DISCLAIMER (aka: why are my feelings doing this??) 🚨

Hey friend!! Just a heads-up before you dive headfirst into the Clone Hugpocalypse:

This is:

✨For fun.✨

✨For feelings.✨

✨For healing my (and maybe your) inner sad clone child.✨

These headcanons are lovingly crafted with:

Unhealthy amounts of affection for emotionally constipated space soldiers,

Absolutely zero canon accuracy unless it serves The Bit™,

The kind of hugs that won’t fix everything, but they’ll try really hard, and

That sweet spot between “haha this is silly” and “WHY AM I SOBBING AT 3AM OVER A MAN NAMED WAXER???”

We’re here to give the boys hugs they deserved but never got, be unreasonably specific about emotional reactions to surprise cuddles, make jokes, get soft, get feral, maybe cry into our caf a little, and fill the galaxy with therapy via physical affection.

So if you’re:

Down for some clone comfort chaos,

Cool with affectionate nonsense,

And not too fussed about blending humor with trauma like a Force-sensitive emotional smoothie…

WELCOME!!! Let’s hug some broken war brothers and watch their brains blue screen in real time!!!!🫂💙

Rex

You approach him after a mission, he's mid-debrief with Commander Cody, all business—and you just wrap your arms around him.

Short-circuits like a protocol droid in a thunderstorm.

“Uh. Uh. Uh. Are you—hugging? Is that allowed? Wait—is this a prank??”

Freezes completely. He has been shot at, crushed under debris, and chased by a Zillow Beast, but THIS? THIS IS NEW.

But once he realizes you’re being sincere?

He hugs you back with this awkward, hesitant little pat on the back.

…Then his whole body melts just a little.

Won’t admit it, but he thinks about that hug for days. Constantly.

The next time you do it, he hugs back properly. Arm around your waist. Soft smile. You can hear the PTSD unclench.

Fives

“OH???”

You hug him and he immediately goes full dramatic soap opera romance novel mode.

“Oh cyare, I never thought I’d feel joy again!” dips you back like you’re on a dance floor in a 1940s holo-drama

Spinning you around is highly likely.

“What was that for?” “Just felt like it.” “Well, prepare to be hugged back so hard you question physics.”

Keeps score. “I hugged you for longer. That’s 10 points to me.”

Will start randomly leaning on you just so you'll initiate hugs. Professional cuddler. Certified clingy. No takebacks.

Echo

Hugging Echo is like trying to hug a very anxious piece of military-grade toast the first time.

He stiffens IMMEDIATELY. Doesn’t breathe. Doesn’t blink. Just internal.exe has stopped working.

You pull away and he’s like: “Wait. No. That was… actually kinda nice.”

Next time you hug him, he’s prepared. It’s still a little awkward, but he softens into it and gives you a little squeeze back.

One time he rested his chin on your shoulder and made a soft noise. You almost died from the gentle.

Eventually becomes the kind of guy to hug you in private but also glare at anyone else who dares look at you like "NO TOUCHING. THIS ONE'S MINE."

Jesse

You hug Jesse? Oh you are in for smug bastard energy.

“Ohoho, so someone likes me.”

Immediately picks you up.

Spinning is almost guaranteed.

“I am your favorite clone now. It’s science.”

Will initiate revenge hugs at the most inconvenient times. In the middle of a strategy briefing? “Come here, you adorable tactical disaster.”

Says things like “how dare you be so huggable, this is sabotage.”

Secretly very soft. Like, he’ll rest his forehead against yours before a mission and say “come back to me, alright?”

Kix

You hug him? You just activated his Care Mode™.

He immediately assumes you need comfort and goes into medic boyfriend mode:

“Are you okay? Are you hurt? Are you bleeding internally? Let me check your vitals.”

“Kix, I just wanted to hug you.”

“…OH. Then never mind. But also drink water.”

Once he realizes it’s casual affection, he gets very warm and smiley.

Gives amazing hugs back. Firm, grounding, with the faint smell of bacta and caf.

Will gently guide your head to his chest. You can hear his heartbeat and a very quiet “you mean a lot to me, you know.”

Hardcase

INSTANT EXCITEMENT. “A HUG?? FOR ME???!!”

He picks you up. He spins you. He almost knocks over two troopers and a crate.

“DOES THIS MEAN I GET TO HUG YOU WHENEVER I WANT NOW?!”

He's so tall and enthusiastic it’s like hugging a golden retriever on steroids.

Will randomly run up to you, yell “HUG ATTACK!!” and tackle-hug you like a joyful missile.

Gives the kind of hugs that lift you off the ground, squeeze all your sadness out, and refill you with explosive energy.

“You looked sad, so I brought you a hug and also six different kinds of rations because I wasn’t sure which flavor helps feelings.”

Dogma

You hug Dogma and he freezes like a booted droid.

“W-what…what is this? Is this allowed? Is this a breach of protocol?”

You say “I just wanted to,” and he blushes so hard it looks like he’s overheating.

Tries to salute while you’re hugging him.

Very stiff at first, but once he realizes you’re safe, not joking, and this isn’t a punishment or test—he melts.

His return hug is so careful, like he’s worried he’ll break you.

Won’t initiate a hug himself, but he leans in now. He always leans in.

Cody

You sneak-hug Commander Cody while he’s organizing intel.

“Is this an ambush?” “Yup.” “…Accepted.”

He doesn’t show emotion often, but he likes you. A lot. So he lets his guard down.

Low-key one of the best huggers. Solid, warm, comforting.

The kind of hug that says I will keep you safe until the end of time.

After the first time, he starts greeting you with shoulder squeezes that slowly evolve into full-on hugs.

If anyone walks in: “They tripped. Onto me. It’s fine. Shut up, Waxer.”

Waxer

You hug Waxer and this man straight up breaks like a brittle cookie under a warm cup of caf.

Shocked Pikachu face at first. Like he fully does not know what’s happening.

He blinks. Looks down at your arms. Then at you. Then back at your arms like “Do they know I’m just a clone?”

You don’t let go. You just keep hugging him. And he just… leans in. Slowly. Carefully.

It’s gentle. It’s soft. It’s the first time in weeks he’s remembered he’s a person, not a number.

Murmurs something like: “...Thanks. That’s... rare.”

From that moment on, you are family.

Starts giving you surprise hugs. Especially when you least expect it.

You hand him ammo? Hug.

You fall asleep on the transport? Blanket + hug.

You stub your toe? “This calls for a hug AND a bandage.”

Secretly knits little stuffed Tooka dolls for orphan kids and denies it violently if caught.

If you ever say “you deserve love too,” he cries. Quietly. In the hallway.

Boil

You go to hug Boil and he IMMEDIATELY does the grumpy-cop reaction. “Whoa whoa whoa what are you doing—what is this—are you bleeding?”

Arms locked at his sides like you’re hugging a parking meter.

“Did Waxer put you up to this? This feels like a Waxer thing.”

You say, “No, I just wanted to hug you.”

And he shuts down like a battle droid hit with a logic loop.

“...Oh.”

He slowly, hesitantly raises one hand and pats your back like he’s diffusing a bomb.

One week later: He initiates a hug by awkwardly standing next to you and saying “Hey, if you need to do... that again or whatever, I guess I got a minute.”

Turns into hug tsundere. Grumbles the whole time but pulls you closer anyway.

You overhear him telling someone else: “No, I don’t like hugs. I just let them because they’re small and emotionally fragile.”

Meanwhile, he’s actively spooning you during downtime.

If anyone hurts you, Boil becomes a one-man war crime.

“No one touches my squishy little hug-friend but me. Got it?”

Bonus: The Domino Squad Bros (Before Umbara… RIP)

Hevy: Hugs you like a linebacker. Back pats that rattle your spine. Somehow always smells like gun oil and joy.

Cutup: Tries to tickle you mid-hug. Laughs so hard you both fall over. Says “awww, is someone getting attached?” while being the clingiest man alive.

Droidbait: Turns into a red-faced mess and blurts “I THINK I’M IN LOVE—wait no I mean um cool hug yeah.”

Echo (pre-ARC): Gives the kind of hugs that are more like gentle head rests. Hides his face in your neck and says “thanks. I needed that.” Your heart? Gone.

Bonus: Wolffe Pack Edition

Commander Wolffe

Hugging Wolffe is like hugging a brick wall with abandonment issues.

You approach him after a mission—he’s grumpy, bruised, barking orders—and you just wrap your arms around him.

And he’s like: “...what the hell is happening?”

FREEZES COMPLETELY. Arms stiff at his sides. Helmet still on. All systems shutting down. Internal monologue: “okay. okay. they are touching me. what do I do. do I arrest them. do I hug back. am I allowed to like this. oh no it’s nice. abort mission.”

Eventually—very slowly—his arms come up. He hugs you back like a tired, grouchy lion.

But then? You hear this tiny, low little exhale. Like he’s been holding his breath for 20 years and just remembered how to breathe. That hug heals him on a spiritual level.

Says absolutely nothing about it afterward. But his hand lingers on your back just a second longer than necessary the next time you walk past.

Sinker

“HEYOOOOO IS THAT A HUG I SEE??”

Immediately all in.

You don’t even finish initiating the hug before he scoops you into a bear hug so powerful your bones shift alignment.

Spins you around. Shakes you. Shouts “WE’RE FRIENDS NOW FOREVER YOU KNOW THAT RIGHT??”

Is 5000% a hugger by nature. Just never thought he was allowed to do it in the army.

Now that you’ve started it? You’ve unlocked the floodgates. Expect surprise hugs, one-armed shoulder squeezes, lifting-you-off-your-feet hugs, “hey I missed you for 5 minutes so here’s a hug” hugs—

Dangerously affectionate golden retriever energy.

Will absolutely start a “HUG THE ENTIRE BATTALION” campaign if left unsupervised.

Boost

You go to hug Boost, and his first reaction is: “...Are you sick?”

Then: “Wait. Are you dying?? Is this a goodbye hug?? DO YOU HAVE A FATAL WOUND??”

You reassure him it’s just a hug because you care about him.

He immediately does a 180. “Awwwwwwwwwwww! You care about me??? Of course you do, I’m awesome!! C’mere!!”

Picks you up like a child and swings you side to side while yelling “I’M LOVED! I’M LOVED!!!”

Absolutely insufferable in the most lovable way.

Starts initiating random sneak attack hugs. Behind crates. In line for food. Mid-mission. “Time for your daily emotional support clamp! HUGGED!!”

Tells Wolffe you hugged him and Wolffe just walks away immediately.

Comet

You hug Comet and he goes completely still.

Not in a “what is this” way. More like a “oh… oh no I need this and I didn’t know” way.

Arms go around you slowly, almost reverently. He’s warm and solid and still smells like blaster oil and ration bars.

He says quietly: “...Thanks. Been a rough one.”

Doesn’t let go right away.

He’s the kind of person who holds a hug like he thinks it’ll keep you both grounded. Like if he lets go, the galaxy will fall apart.

After that first one, he’ll give you real, deep hugs when you both need grounding. Doesn’t say much. Just holds on and lets the silence do the work.

Also becomes your Official Debrief Cuddle Buddy. End of long day? “You look like you need five minutes of hug.” And you always, always do.

🐺 BONUS: Wolffe Pack Group Hug Edition

You try to hug them all at once.

This is chaos.

Sinker lifts you and tries to twirl you.

Boost yells “PILE ON!!” and launches himself at the group like a very affectionate missile.

Wolffe is stuck in the middle of a dogpile of affection, looking like he wants to die and also maybe cry.

“Why. Are we. Touching this much.”

Comet somehow ends up holding Boost in a princess carry.

At one point Sinker tries to start a “hug chant.” It does not catch on. (Except with Boost. It echoes for 12 hours.)

Wolffe says nothing for days. Then randomly, at 3am, grumbles: “...That was kinda nice.”