#fluffember2023

[idontknowreallywhy]

Commute day again! Today’s unedited train snippet is based on horrifying recent events in my own life.

I think it falls roughly within the fluffwhump category.

This was going to be a Gordon-centric fic but he didn’t quite experience the level of indignation I felt was merited, so big brother had to step up.

Hereby claiming “smirk” for Fluffember

Stress Relief

✈️✈️✈️✈️✈️✈️✈️✈️✈️✈️✈️✈️✈️✈️✈️✈️

Scott stood frozen in the middle of the room and felt the last shreds of sanity slip from his fingertips.

How could this have happened?

It had disrupted his understanding of the universe, as if reality itself had finally betrayed him.

The only anchor to his old life, the innocent, trusting life he had lived up until this juncture, was Gordon. His beloved little brother who was writhing on the floor at his feet, shaking and crying…

And howling with laughter.

At him.

Scott opened his mouth to raise an objection to his brother’s frivolous attitude to this disaster but no words came out. Instead, he coughed and spat foul tasting green slime on to the carpet.

It glittered offensively at him.

“H….hooooow?” He croaked desperately.

No explanation was forthcoming - the slippery little fish had rolled on to his stomach and was beating the floor with his fist. Scott spat more slime at him. He probably deserved it.

Wait, did he? Had this been a prank?

Bewilderment was shunted aside by anger.

“GORDON!! WHAT DID YOU DO?”

His brother looked up at him, eyes streaming:

“It wasn’t me, bro” Gordon gasped then bit on his own fist in an apparent attempt to regain some semblance of control “you’re not supposed to squeeze them that hard”.

A tiny seahorse figure fell from the end of Scott’s nose and Gordon dissolved into another fit of giggles.

Scott looked down at the slimy rubbery mess in his clenched fist and frowned, the confusion returning with backup.

“But isn’t… isn’t that… the… ENTIRE POINT?”

He waved the remains of Gordon’s puffer fish toy to emphasis his point and gloop splattered on to the ceiling. To join the rest of the gloop on the ceiling.

“It’s a stress ball! You squeeze the indestructible ball, it remains indestructible and you feel less stressed afterwards! THAT’S WHAT IT’S FOR!!”

Scott’s voice teetered on the edge of a whine.

“Yeah but none of them are really that robust big bro, particularly not in the face of Mr Big Cheese Businessman levels of stress.”

Uhoh. Scott looked down at the brand new, ridiculously expensive designer suit his PA had quietly handed him when he’d turned up ten minutes before the board meeting fresh off the back of a muddy rescue.

The suit oozed at him.

It was apt really. Some of the board members had oozed too. He’d just been sharing some of the ludicrous highlights with his little brother (who was always pleasingly sympathetic on the topic of corporate hogwash) and had absent-mindedly picked the actionably-falsely-advertised item off his brother’s bedside table to toss from hand to hand as he ranted.

He blinked rapidly as something slid into his field of vision. Gordon stood and gently plucked a tiny glittery shark from his commander’s eyebrow.

“Let’s get you cleaned up shall we?” Sympathetic tone and matching facial expression were being masterfully deployed.

“NOT my room. This stuff will ruin my nice carpet.” He sagged. “Honestly Gordo, it was such a tiny thing… how is there so much of this… ick?”

Brown eyes twinkled as Gordon smirked knowingly. “One of the mysteries of the cosmos, big brother.”

🦑🦑🦑🦑🦑🦑🦑🦑🦑🦑🦑🦑🦑🦑🦑🦑

Gordon steered his slimy brother into his own en-suite and closed the door behind him, turning away to survey the sparkling chaos his brother had created.

There was a pause. Gordon could hear the shower switch on and some indistinct muttering from the other side of the door. Then a cough, followed by a snort, followed by a bark of laughter.

Gordon smiled to himself. Maybe not quite what the designer had planned, but the little toy might have had its intended effect after all.

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds #thunderbirds fanfiction #scott tracy #gordon tracy #idontknowreallywhy fanfic #thunderfluff #fluffwhump #fluffember2023 #fluffember #whump fluff #whumpfluff #epic goo disaster

[astranite]

Rest

Fluff, Earth and Sky, plus Scott getting a nap. A.K.A Virgil gets Scott a weighted blanket.

EDIT!!! I used one of the Fluffember 2023 prompts in here but completely forgot to tag or mention that. Prompt is "Say: "Thank you for...""

A little inspired by the fic in where Virgil gets a weighted blanket (https://archiveofourown.org/works/23042224 Insomnia by chidoriXblossom), mine written because I think Scott would like one too. And we all know he needs more sleep. Plus soft furnishings!Scott!!!

Also- "This will be only like 500 words max," my muse lied.

So, another fic! Mostly was written on the bus on my phone, while wandering around the kitchen looking for something to eat yesterday, and on notes on my laptop when the Aussie internet and phone service met its untimely demise today.

@idontknowreallywhy With the last 2 paragraphs and hopefully less typos!! Hope you're feeling better too. SOFT FURNISHINGS!SCOTT!

-----

“Got you a present,” Virgil said, holding out a package wrapped in shiny blue paper. 

Scott took it without hesitation, utterly unprepared, because this was Virgil, not Gordon or Alan or any other trouble makers.

He staggered at the sudden, unexpected weight.  Scott kept fit for international rescue and lifted more than this on any given day, but dropped into his hands where Virgil made it look like nothing. Well, he nearly dropped it. 

Just as Virgil lunged to snatch it back from the bounds gravity, Scott  got a firmer grip on the package and hefted it up. 

Virgil stepped back, grinning, nearly as excited as the day they sent Two to space. “Open it, Scotty!”

Scott dutifully sat down on the couch with the package in his lap, slipping his fingers beneath the tape. 

“But why, why today?” Scott asked. 

It wasn’t Christmas. He determined it was not his birthday after quickly counting out what month was it anyway because he’d lost track with how busy he’d been lately. He wasn’t forgetting something else was he? Some important event that wasn’t in his calendar? Oh damn, was he supposed to have gotten his brothers presents too?

Virgil sat down by his side. 

“You’re alright Scott, no occasion. Present’s just because.” Virgil smiled. 

Scott bumped his shoulder against Virgil’s in a wordless act of affection. 

Then he turned to the shiny present he held, excitement bubbling up. 

What could it be? 

The package was soft, moving about fluidly within the paper, which would usually bring to mind something along the lines of an item of clothing. But whatever it was was far too heavy for that. Even allowing for thick denim or mission suit material, but Virgil wouldn’t wrap up a routine update, and that sort of engineering generally came under Brains’ department. 

With the strange slithery, many grains of sand running over each other noise it made whenever it shifted, at this point Scott would expect a prank, even from Virgil. 

Except that Virgil was right next to him, just as genuinely happy to be seeing him open the present as Scott was to receive it. Plus his brother was a frankly awful liar and trying to cover for it by, say, hiding his face in his hands while suspiciously giggling behind them had never worked once, for the record. 

So Scott shook the package vigorously, when Virgil didn’t stop him assuming it was non breakable, then gave up on the whole guessing game to get to the real deal. 

He tore the paper off with a grin, foregoing attempts to be neat about it because he just wanted to see what it was. 

Copious amounts of blue fabric poured into his lap. Heavy, weighted fabric, trying to slither to the floor as he grabbed at it and pulled it up. 

The thing was soft too, fluffy on one side and more fuzzy on the other, Scott discovered as he ran his hands over it. 

A quilted blanket of some kind, a big one too. Scott hefted it and spread it across himself and Virgil to lay it out so he could see it. 

It was— oh, “A weighted blanket?” he asked Virgil. 

Virgil nodded, smiling widely, “I thought you’d like one of your own, since you seem to like mine so much.”

That was true. Even on the last movie night when Virgil had brought out his own green, wonderfully soft monstrosity of a blanket that practically required an exosuit to lift, Scott had ended up sharing it with him. 

He never would have bought one for himself, he didn’t need it, but Virgil has seen and he had gotten him one. 

Scott threw his arms around his brother and whispered a heartfelt, “Thank you for— for everything,” into Virgil’s flannel. 

Virgil hugged him tight. “Glad you’re happy, Scooter.” 

Scott swallowed. “Yeah. I am.”

He stayed in the hug, letting himself lean on Virgil.

Eventually he pulled away, bumping his forehead with Virgil’s briefly in another thanks, before flopping backwards onto the sofa. 

He dragged the blanket over his body, snuggling down beneath it, to try it out properly. 

Virgil tugged the edges out straight, patting Scott on the leg where he’d slung them over Virgil’s lap to fit onto the couch. 

“‘M not moving ever again,” Scott mumbled. 

The blanket’s weight pressed down on him comfortingly, like the soothing pressure of a tight hug. The fabric was soft, fluffy and warm, but not too hot for their tropical island. It covered his feet even when he pulled it right up to his chin. 

Scott was in heaven. 

When he shut his eyes for a moment, letting the sensation sink in, Virgil snickered. “G’night, Scotty.”

Scott opened one eye to glare, then the other. He was not going to sleep. He was just getting comfortable, that was all.

He reluctantly removed one arm from beneath the blanket, wriggling his fingers towards Virgil. He could still work if Virgil would just pass him his tablet. 

Heaving a put upon sigh, Virgil reached for the side table and gave Scott his tablet, picking up his own sketch book. 

Scott opened his emails, hiding a smile. The blue eyes act still worked on his brother, evidently. 

Something, something, board meeting. Something, something, product development. He flicked a couple marked urgent open which weren’t even particularly important and shouldn’t have been flagged for him. He forwarded them on to be delegated to the correct people. 

Learning that he didn’t have to do absolutely everything had been a long process, and he was getting better at it. 

Scott continued through his bottomless inbox, so warm and comfortable he wasn’t even particularly annoyed with the uptight business people he had to deal with. Or at least he was minorly irritated as opposed to resisting the urge to throw his tablet across the room. He ran his free hand across the soft material, wound in the fluffy fabric while his other held his tablet. 

The blanket was working wonders. Quiet scratchings of pencil on real paper from Virgil did aid his calm somewhat too. But the weighted blanket was definitely going down in his favourite items of soft furnishings. Trust Virgil to have gotten it for him and gifted it just because. 

Scott’s blinks got slower and slower, and maybe he’d just rest his eyes for a moment, snuggled up on the couch with his brother and his new weighted blanket. 

Virgil looked up from his sketchbook at his brother. The permanently stressed crinkles between Scott’s brows were smoothed out, his face lax, his whole body a loose jumble of limbs instead of a wound up ball of tension. His arm arced gracelessly off the edge of the couch, tablet fallen on the floor beside it. His other hand was still gripping the blue blanket, hanging onto it even in his sleep. 

Because Scott was asleep. In the middle of the day, finally catching up on countless missed hours, even in the open lounge room, fast asleep with no signs of nightmares. 

A line of pencil on thick drawing paper, and Virgil begun to sketch Scott’s sleeping form, seeking to capture such a rare moment. He had no where to be, a mug of coffee beside him, and art supplies at hand so he was content. Plus he had his big brother close, legs still in Virgil’s lap, and no way he was moving to risk disturbing Scott, even if he wanted to, which he certainly didn’t.

Virgil smiled down at Scott, infinitely glad his present of a blue weighted blanket was comforting his brother and letting Scott get some much needed and well earned rest. 

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds fanfiction #scott tracy #virgil tracy #thunderfluff #earth and sky #soft furnishings!scott #astrawrite #fluffember #fluffember2023

[gumnut-logic]

Fluffember 2023

The First of November is here (for some of us, at least) so here is the launch of Fluffember (Fluffy November), in order to give our characters just a little bit of kindness after the crazy of Whumptober.

There was much comment on exhaustion and basically whumped writers after the frenzy of last month, so this year I've changed a few things. We still have thirty prompts, so those who like to do one per day can go for it. But this time I've grouped them into five lists with nothing in any particular order. November touches five weeks this year, so you could grab one word from each list per week, choose some, choose one for the entire month, or just grab whatever sparks the inspiration. The headings are up for grabs as well, so technically we have thirty-five words/consepts to play with, but as always, no pressure or time limits other than what you want to do.

So write, paint, draw, sculpt, compose odes to characters, whatever you want to do. The aim is to spark ideas and have fun.

To help with finding stuff, please tag your posts with #fluffember and #fluffember2023.

Go forth and create!

Nutty

(off the edge, but learning to fly)

Text version of the prompts below the cut

Hug

stray hair

longed for

gentle

reach

ache

wrapped

Feel

smirk

glare

relief

devilish

enthusiastic

exhausted

Play

joke

tustle

game

tackle

hobby

music

Remember

family

note

memento

home

time

celebration

Say

"I love..."

"I do..."

"Where are they?"

"Cake!"

"You were so little..."

"Thank you for..."

-o-o-o-

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds #thunderfam #prompts #writing prompts #inspiration #fluffember #fluffember2023

[idontknowreallywhy]

Further unedited train snippet…

Last week I made Scott cry because of a song that shuffled into my ears while commuting. Some of you enjoyed this because you are clearly as mean as me.

This week’s commute had a more cheesy playlist and he vigorously demanded recompense. Below is my peace offering… (with “music” prompt nabbed from Thunderfluff 2023)

🎵🎵🎵🎵🎵🎵🎵🎵🎵🎵🎵🎵🎵🎵🎵🎵

Legend

“Scott?”

“Hmm…? Yeah sounds good, whatever you reckon.”

Virgil looked up from the piano, realising IR’s Commander hadn’t been listening to a word of his explanation of the disaster Alan and Brains had experienced with TB3’s auto-respray bot. His long-legged brother was curled up on the sofa, with a knitted blanket round his shoulders, knees pulled high and entirely absorbed by whatever he was reading on his phone. His face was unusually relaxed and the broad grin before a speedily typed response confirmed that it wasn’t Tracy Industries work that was commanding such rapt attention. Little brother smiled to himself and paused midway through the sonata he was noodling about with and began to play some light chords around Ab major. Then started humming an old John Legend song they all knew well. A twitch of an eyebrow revealed Scott had noticed the change in vibe, if subconsciously, but there was no further reaction.

He cleared his throat and started singing the lyrics. Still nothing.

Gordon wandered into the room and paused with a question on his face - unlike Scott he immediately knew this was odd behaviour - Virgil didn’t usually belt out the words like that unless there was a singalong on the cards. The grinning musician caught his little brother’s eye and tilted his head slightly towards Mr Oblivious on the sofa. Gordon’s eyes narrowed then lit up with mischief and Virgil shook his head slightly. After a melodramatic pout, Gordon settled for leaning on the lid of the piano and singing along.

By the next verse a third voice had joined them quietly from the sofa, the singer apparently unaware of the amused glances thrown his way by two pairs of delighted brown eyes.

“You’re my downfall, you’re my muse, my worst distraction, my rhythm and blues.

I can’t stop singing it’s ringing in my head for you.”

🎵🎵🎵🎵🎵🎵🎵🎵🎵🎵🎵🎵🎵🎵🎵🎵

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds #thunderbirds fanfiction #scott tracy #virgil tracy #gordon tracy #thunderfluff #music!virgil #idontknowreallywhy fanfic #songfic #fluffember2023 #fluffember