#Extended fluffbruary

[fluffbruary]

Infinite Fluffbruary 2024: call for prompts!

Fluffbruarians near and far! We’re a third of the way through Fluffbruary and it's time to a new set of prompts for Extended Fluffbruary.

Officially the 14th of every month, Extended Fluffbruary lets us keep the fluff coming throughout the year.

Hopefully you're inspired to send us some prompts—words or images—to add to the mix from which the prompts will be drawn.

Send us your suggestions in the message or ask boxes of @fluffbruary.

Images need to be your own, or from a royalty-free site (some links below for words and images).

Thanks for reblogging!

LINKS TO COPYRIGHT-FREE / PUBLIC DOMAIN IMAGE SITES

is a lovely site for generating randomness. they also offer options where you can pick the type of word (adjectives, adverbs, etc), or pick images, or phrases, or numbers, and it'll throw things at you. you pick how many results you want at a time and click the button and there you go. If you're looking at images, if you then click on any of the images it takes you through to their source at pixabay.

[lisbeth-kk]

An unexpected meeting with Mike, followed by a bombshell of a question, makes John reconsider his feelings for Sherlock. Sherlock who’s been dead for nearly two years.

Sherlock contemplates how to best approach John now that he’s back. Not dead after all.

The extended Fluffbruary has reached July and this months prompts were: kiss-garden-whispers

@fluffbruary @totallysilvergirl @calaisreno @keirgreeneyes @topsyturvy-turtely @gaylilsherlock @raina-at @a-victorian-girl

[astaldis]

@fluffbruary

Chapters: 1/1           Words: 2,032 Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Cahir Mawr Dyffryn aep Ceallach/Coën Characters: Cahir Mawr Dyffryn aep Ceallach, Coën (The Witcher), Original Male Character Additional Tags: Fluffbruary, cloudy, Thunderstorms, Rain, Shelter from the Storm, Fluff, Cuddling & Snuggling, There Was Only One Bed, Established Relationship Summary: On the Path Cahir and Coën are surprised by a tempest. Will they find shelter from the storm?

[stellacartography]

@fluffbruary Day 14 Voice | Swim | Quaint

There's a content warning for this chapter so here's a quick summary: Mycroft fell asleep on Greg's sofa in the last chapter and he's dreaming in this one. In his dream there is a spider who turns into his brother. If dream!spider!Sherlock is upsetting for you, feel free to skip this part.

It was obvious, in hindsight, that he was dreaming, but in his mind's eye he'd had an entire conversation with the spider who'd appeared in the upper left corner of Greg's television screen before it occurred to Mycroft that the experience was anything less than real.

"Isn't that sweet," the spider sneered.

"Hardly." Mycroft wouldn't stand for an arachnid passing judgement on his current position wrapped up in Greg's warm embrace. After all, what did spiders know of the pleasures of cuddling? They only came into contact with another living being when they were about to eat or be eaten.

"Do you think he means it? Or are you just convenient?"

"I really ought to get out the hoover and take care of you."

"Ooh, big threats from the British Government. Won't change the fact that you're a warm body to him."

"Why don't spiders learn to build their webs inside the walls? It would significantly extend their lifespans?" Mycroft mused aloud.

"Why don't stuffy, nosy big brothers learn to keep themselves out of the personal lives of others?"

Mycroft frowned as the spider took on his brother's attitude. He rolled his eyes and stood up to inspect it more closely. It was a pale brown house spider. Nothing unusual at first glance. Although now that he had a closer look, the spider's head had a rather dramatic looking collection of dark curls that made Mycroft sneer in its direction.

"Why are you here, brother mine?"

"Someone has to hold you accountable for your meddling," it replied petulantly.

"In what am I meddling, Sherlock? Greg invited me here!"

"Who?"

Mycroft looked back at the couch to where Greg had been, but no one occupied the couch any longer. He searched the room frantically, wondering if Greg had turned into a mouse or a moth when he wasn't looking. It did seem to be that sort of dream. When Mycroft turned back to accuse the spider with his brother's face of meddling in his affairs, he noticed the trickle of water falling down Greg's sitting room wall. It looked like a tiny waterfall trickling over the plaster, but he looked about to find himself nearly ankle-deep in the pool of water.

He fled to the sofa and momentarily regretted not removing his shoes earlier in the evening. He called out for Greg once, twice, much to the amusement of his tiny arachnid brother who was climbing up to stand on top of the television.

"Don't drown, big bro! You'll never see Greg again if you do. It won't bother him at all, of course. But you'll be unbearable for the rest of your life."

"I didn't lay a finger on you!" Mycroft protested.

"No, but you thought about it, didn't you?"

Mycroft huffed and rolled his eyes.

"You know what they say about killing spiders."

"You're not dead!"

"Killing a spider makes it rain."

"This isn't rain, it's a flood. And you're perfectly healthy. Look at you." How Sherlock maintained his perfect coiffure with all this moisture in the air, Mycroft would never understand.  It was a magic all Sherlock's own, he supposed. His own hair curled hideously in the damp and he began to feel cold again.

He looked at the floor. The water was getting quite deep now and the couch had been lifted off its feet to bob along the surface. Mycroft felt his stomach roll with the motion. Glancing at Sherlock again he saw that the spider had built an extravagant web between the television frame and the wall that was still streaming with water. In the centre he had a hornet and a moth.

"Mycroft," the moth called.

Mycroft looked for a way to leave the couch but the water had lifted it halfway up the wall and there was nothing to use as a stepping stone to the television.

"Mycroft?" The moth sounded calm even though it was in the centre of a spider's web. The hornet stirred and squirmed in its sticky bindings.

"Greg, I'll find a way. Don't worry. Don't move."

The spider was advancing on the centre of the web, almost dancing with glee as it closed in on the moth and the hornet. The hornet panicked and scrabbled for purchase on the sticky strands, only succeeding in pulling the moth closer to its prominent stinger. The water was almost up to the ceiling now. There was nothing for it. Mycroft plunged into the cold pool that had filled Greg's living space and swam with all his might towards the web.

"Mycroft." The moth's voice carried even though Mycroft's head was completely submerged and he followed the sound, frantically reaching out to brush away strands of webbing that had filled the water. He surfaced for air, gasping at the last bit of space by the ceiling before diving in again to reach for the unfortunate insects caught in Sherlock's impenetrable web.

Just as he thought he would run out of air, Mycroft opened his eyes. He was on the couch. Greg was next to him and looking on with concern.  

"Thank god I don't have to swim," Mycroft said.

"Don't think it's raining that hard, mate. You alright?"

"Strange dream," was all Mycroft could think to say. "I apologise. I didn't mean to drift off."

"Me neither," Greg said softly with a grin.  "Think I spilled my glass on you a bit." He gestured at the wet stain on Mycroft's trousers.

Mycroft frowned. That was why he was so cold. He sighed.

"Look it's miserable out there and you've already slept half the night," Greg began. "Would you want to stay? I can sleep here. You take the bed."

"I couldn't put you out."

"You're not. We could have breakfast."

The idea was tempting. Stay the night and have a meal together in the morning. Mycroft seldom ate breakfast but he could perhaps stretch to brunch if Greg were involved.

"Only if you allow me to sleep on the sofa. Take your bed. Please." He would have to find some clean clothing in the morning. Perhaps Greg could lend him some. A vision of himself in trousers that were just an inch too short popped into his head. He really should refuse. It would be no trouble to call a car at this hour, but the prospect of a morning with Greg loomed large and tempting in his drowsy, dreamstricken mind.

"Or..." Greg's voice was rough and blurry and he looked so gentle in the light of the television and that of the table lamp. Mycroft was sure Greg could convince him to betray the country and his family in an instant looking and sounding as he did. The only reason Mycroft was here was because he knew Greg would never attempt it. "Well. Might be a bit much."

"Go on." Mycroft was only mildly shocked to find his hand had taken Greg's without his express permission.

"Could share. The bed, I mean. It's more than big enough."

Mycroft glanced down at their joined hands. He thought about brunch and waking up in Greg's bed. He nodded. "If you wouldn't mind."

"Only thing I'd mind is staying where we are. This sofa is not meant for sleeping on." Greg offered his hand to help Mycroft up.

Mycroft laced his fingers with Greg's and rose to his feet, a movement that awoke all the pain receptors in his back at once. He tried to stifle the sharp intake of breath, but Greg caught it.

"Are you hurt?" He scanned Mycroft's torso.

Mycroft cleared his throat. "As you say, the sofa is not an ideal place to sleep."

"Is it your back? Can you walk?"

"Yes." Mycroft took a deep breath and a cautious step forward. "And yes. It is not incapacitating."

Greg's arm snaked under his own and pulled him close. "Let's get you to bed and I'll fetch you some tablets."

They made their way slowly down the hall to Greg's bedroom. Greg eased him to the mattress and strode out of the room.

Mycroft hesitated. He was still wearing his shoes and couldn't bend to untie the laces. He thought about the damage to the leather if he tried to toe them off and winced. He imagined the conversation he'd have to engage in with Anthony, his cobbler, should he decide it was worth avoiding the embarrassment of asking for help with his shoe laces. Of all the evenings not to wear loafers!

Greg returned before Mycroft could make up his sluggish mind, glass of water and a ramekin with tablets in his hands. "Brown is ibuprofen, white is paracetamol. Do they turn your stomach?"

"I don't believe so."

"One of each, then. Should let you sleep, at least. Do you need the toilet?"

"No. But if you wouldn't mind... My shoelaces."

"Oh, yeah. 'Course." Greg knelt down and lifted Mycroft's foot to his knee. He loosened the laces with care and eased the shoe off before repeating with the other foot. His eyes still betrayed his tiredness, but Mycroft's need for assistance appeared to have energised him. He stood and helped Mycroft lie back against the pillows.

"Thank you." Mycroft predicted he would regret sleeping in his trousers but couldn't trouble himself to do more than remove his belt. Greg took the belt from him and laid it over the armchair next to Mycroft's side of the bed. Then he stopped and looked Mycroft up and down, eyes landing somewhere in the vicinity of his neck.

Greg turned abruptly and muttered, "Teeth." He strode off to the ensuite.

Mycroft ran his tongue over his teeth. Weighed against the pain in his back, furry teeth were not worth getting up for. He'd just have to avoid breathing on Greg tonight and measure his regrets in the morning.

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Mycroft's dream was inspired by Jim Creegan's Spider in my Room, in case that seemed familiar.

Thanks to everyone who passes this on

@totallysilvergirl @lisbeth-kk @helloliriels @keirgreeneyes @etrebko @hot-on-my-watch

[arien-elensar]

To the Root: Jounouchi/Kaiba

Inspired by the @fluffbruary : Extended Edition/Infinifluff 2024 Prompt List for November 14 : cuddle | happy | spell. A silly little thing written in less than 30 minutes. I had the quote "To heal you have to get to the root of the wound and kiss it all the way up" by Rupi Kaur in mind.

“Nice to me-eet yo-u,” Jounouchi sounded out the phrase from the guidebook resting on his lap. He paused, struggling with the next sentence.

“Spell it out,” Kaiba suggested from his seat beside him on the couch. Jounouchi did as instructed.

“Near-est - where is the nearest bank?” He stumbled over the word but managed to coherently read the sentence. It was enough to earn an approving nod from Kaiba who leaned forward to point to the next sentence he wanted Jounouchi to attempt.

“What other languages do you know?” Jounouchi asked looking up at him.

“Fluently? Three. German, Spanish, and Mandarin,” he answered. “I’m working on Hindi.”

Jounouchi whistled, impressed.

“Gozaburo made sure I could communicate with all of his business partners,” he explained. “Mandarin was the most difficult to master.”

“No kidding, you were just a child,” Jounouchi mused.

“Children are capable of extraordinary things when pushed,” he said, gaze growing distant.

“Yeah, you’re exhibit A,” the blonde quipped. “Something tells me your adoptive father’s idea of pushing was not an encouraging smile.”

Kaiba chuckled drily, nodding. “That’s when I definitely knew I’d done something wrong.”

“I’ve got an idea,” Jounouchi began, scooting closer to his lover. “How about I help you with your Hindi?” Then his expression turned mischievous. “And for every attempt you get a kiss, anywhere I desire?”

“Sounds like you just want to get me in bed?” Kaiba remarked.

“Who said we can’t do both?” he asked. “I’d love to encourage you along,” he added stroking Kaiba’s chest as they cuddled.

“So long as the same applies for your English,” he prefaced, before pulling the other in for a warm kiss.

“Agreed,” the blonde replied with a happy grin as he reached for the Japanese to Hindi workbook.

“Repositioning himself in Kaiba’s arms, he opened it up to the earmarked page. “How do you ask for the nearest restaurant?”

Kaiba answered, stumbling only once.

With an eager smile, Jounouchi put the book aside and leaned forward to place a kiss on the CEO’s jawline.

“We’ll hardly make progress this way,” Kaiba protested weakly.

“There’s always tomorrow,” Jounouchi replied, retrieving the book. “You need this just as much.”

With a small smile, Kaiba conceded as Jounouchi read out the next instructions.

[quarantineddreamer]

Yours to Hold

For Fluffbruary Day 13 (Choice)

To be perfectly honest: my brain is still not quite with it these days. But, I'm holding out hope that the fog will clear at some point soon (plz) and in the meantime here's a little one-shot I managed! Hope it's enjoyable 💜 (Click above to read on AO3 or see below the cut)

It had been months since Scarif. Most of it he had spent recovering from his injuries. All of it, he had spent wondering why he could face death more easily than he could face life, face her and all she represented. Hope. Happiness. Home.   He had come outside to think, hoping the bracing cold might clear his head and deliver an answer. He knew how he felt about her, knew what he wanted. What he was searching for was the courage to try–to choose a future that extended beyond the next mission; something permanent and lasting and full of possibilities. Something not for the Rebellion, but for himself. Something to be shared…

Of all the planets Cassian had been sent to during his time with the Rebellion, Hoth was by far his least favorite.

Maybe it was because it was frigid as hell.

Or maybe it was because the loose snow sliding beneath his foot had a tendency to remind him of sand…

Or because sometimes, when a storm blew in, the horizon disappeared, a blinding white, returning him to the awful edge of oblivion; a planet devoured before his very eyes…

Already, dark clouds were beginning to encroach upon the brief glimpse of blue sky he had managed to snatch. By his estimate he had maybe fifteen minutes left in the fresh air before he would need to retreat back into the gloom of Echo Base. He dreaded the thought, his head aching in memory of the harsh halogen lighting, chest tightening as he pictured the maze of tight, winding tunnels leading to crowded and too-small ‘rooms’.

Sure, on Yavin 4 he had been forced to check his bed every night in case a poisonous Yavinian centipede had wandered in, but it had also offered places to turn to when he sought solitude–jungle trees that he could lean against instead of the frozen rock wall at his back now.

At best, Hoth could offer him a barely habitable tundra to wander onto that–conditions permitting–would host him for maybe thirty minutes before the threat of frostbite drove him back into the Rebellion’s cramped quarters. 

“Cassian?”

Even through the harsh whispers of the rising wind he recognized her voice–three, barely audible syllables and suddenly the icy air didn’t seem quite so cutting. 

Jyn marched towards him, head ducked low against the wind, arms crossed over her chest, hands clutching her elbows in a tight self-embrace. A gray hat covered her head and a scarf to match was wrapped around her neck, the end of it tucked into the parka she wore–standard-issue blue, and seemingly at least a size too large–the sleeves hanging well-past her hands. 

She stopped when she reached him and peered up at him, cheeks turned scarlet from the burning cold, loose strands of hair blowing across her face and over her brilliant green eyes. 

He’d come out here to be alone. To think. And yet, suddenly all the thoughts in his head seemed out of reach, as did any semblance of speech. 

“What are you doing out here?” she asked incredulously. 

Cassian cleared his throat and gestured upwards. “You just missed it.”

“Missed what? I didn’t know there were any new arrivals scheduled today…”

He shook his head. “No, not a ship. Sky.”

Jyn tilted her head back, eyeing the infinity above them skeptically. “Pretty sure it’s still there, Cass,” she commented. 

“Clear sky,” Cassian elaborated. “Blue sky. Remember that?”

“I’ve heard of it,” she laughed, and the sound was meant for his ears (as all sounds are), but somehow it wasn’t something he heard so much as felt–winding its way through him, leaving warmth and energy in its wake, before settling somewhere against his heart. 

“Cass? Hello?”

“Sorry.” Cassian blinked, snow from his eyelashes melting against his cheeks and blurring his vision. “What did you say?”

Jyn rolled her eyes. “I asked if it was worth it, but I think I have my answer. The cold’s clearly gone to your brain.” She turned her back to the wall and leaned against it beside him, looking at him expectantly. 

It wasn’t the cold making him so addle-minded, Cassian knew it wasn’t that. No, it was something far more daunting, far more potent, and definitely not as easily shaken.

Jyn looked away from him, out onto the increasingly hazy landscape. “Were you really just out here to look at the sky?” she asked quietly.

She knew the truth, or at least part of it. She always did. He didn’t know how, but she did, the same way he knew he didn’t have to answer her–that she didn’t expect him to. His silence would say enough.

“It’s suffocating in there,” she murmured. “Not enough light, not enough air.”

“Too many people,” he added quietly.

She nodded. “Too many,” she agreed. “But out here it’s…”

“Quiet. Gives you a chance to think.”

“Is that a good thing?”

“Sometimes.”

She peered at him from beneath frost-covered lashes. Lips quirked in a pensive, knowing smile. “What about today?”

Today? Today his eyes had been drawn to Jyn the moment she entered the mess hall; had followed her every step with a sort of dizzying wonder that was at once exhilarating and terrifying. Today Chirrut, sitting beside him, had nudged him pointedly and asked, ‘What are you waiting for, Captain?’

But there wasn’t a single answer, there was an entire swarm of doubts that continued to plague him. 

It had been months since Scarif. Most of it he had spent recovering from his injuries. All of it, he had spent wondering why he could face death more easily than he could face life, face her and all she represented. Hope. Happiness. Home.  

He had come outside to think, hoping the bracing cold might clear his head and deliver an answer. He knew how he felt about her, knew what he wanted. What he was searching for was the courage to try–to choose a future that extended beyond the next mission; something permanent and lasting and full of possibilities. Something not for the Rebellion, but for himself. Something to be shared…

“Today, it was a good thing,” he said at last. It was a good thing because having Jyn in his thoughts, even if they were anxious ones, was still having Jyn there, with him–a sudden, strange, and unexpected source of strength and light. 

She pushed herself off the rock wall and stepped in front of him, so close he could see the individual hairs that were caught up in her eyelashes, fixed in place by her hat and the wind. “Tell me about them,” she said. “The good thoughts.”

Waking up in the infirmary to find her there, resting at his bedside, arms folded beneath her head… 

Hearing her laugh for the first time, a proper laugh as he and K2 bickered over something inane; he’d forgotten the fight the moment he heard the sound, caught himself automatically smiling in response… 

Her surprising patience during his recovery, tempering his own frustrations; the way she’d always been there to sit with him in silence after a particularly trying day… 

A quiet corner of the galaxy, somewhere verdant and warm and free of war; Jyn standing beside him,  always beside him…

Instead of answering, he found himself pinning the fingertips of one of his gloves between his back and the rock and tugging his hand free. His breath caught in his chest as he slowly reached towards her face, gently sweeping a finger over the surface of her forehead, sliding the hair away from her eyes. 

He should have dropped his hand after that, should have pulled away, but instead, his palm moved instinctively to cup her cheek, the softness of her skin serving in stark contrast to the bite of the air around it. 

Jyn stared at him, something unreadable in her eyes as she searched his face. “Your fingers are cold,” she said softly, even as she slowly removed her own gloves and reached for his hands, tugged his remaining glove away. “Let me warm them up…”

Time seemed to slow down as she folded her hands over his own, squeezing lightly, before bringing his fingers to her open mouth and breathing onto them, the warmth of her seeping into the chilled surface of his skin, setting fire to his stuttering heart. 

“Jyn…” he murmured, but anything he might have thought to say to her stuck in his throat, forgotten and useless. 

He leaned closer, till the breath that had been warming his hands was ghosting across his lips instead. And for a moment, that was all there was, just the sound and feel of their breathing: a whispered question so powerful, it blocked even the howl and bite of the rising storm. 

Their eyes locked and held, the beginning notes of a song hanging in the air between them…

Cassian answered the call, tilting forward to press an eager kiss to Jyn’s lips. 

A pleased hum buzzed against his mouth, matching the pull of her forming smile. She released his hands and leaned her weight against him as she rose to her toes, reaching to wind her fingers around his neck and into his hair.

He wrapped his arms around her, tightened the embrace, a wild melody tearing through him like thunder through spring air, full of promise. 

When they parted, they did so slowly, scattering short kisses across cheeks and noses, and unable to resist one last deep, lingering kiss, before finally leaning away, just enough to clearly see each other’s faces. 

The smug grin Jyn was giving him forced a soft laugh from Cassian. “What’s this look about?” he asked. 

“Took you long enough,” she said softly as she stepped backwards, dragging the start of a trail in the deepening snow. “Now come on, you’ve been out here long enough–and I’ve got some ideas on how we can get warm.”

The plummeting temperatures didn’t seem capable of reaching him–not with the shadow of their kiss persisting on his lips–but Cassian didn’t bother to resist. 

Jyn tugged gently on his arm, and he gladly followed

[fang-and-feather]

Ikemen Vampire - Jean x Vincent x Reader

Written for July's Polyam Shipping Day Prompt: Ceremony from @polyamships and August's Extended Fluffbruary Prompt: Radiant from @fluffbruary

Words: 454

Summary: Jean wasn’t given to crying, but he wasn't sure he would make it through this unforgetable moment without crying, with how radiant you looked to his eyes.

Tags: Fluff, Wedding, Jean's POV

I will probably add another chapter to this from another POV later...

It's been little over three hours since I posted last fic, but I already wrote another. Just as short, but I am learning to write shorter fics these days. I think of that as a milestone for me.

IkeVamp Masterlist / General Masterlist / AO3 Link

Jean wasn’t given to crying, but he felt like he had cried a lot more since you came into his life. Mostly tears of happiness.

And once again he found these tears threatening to fall, as he watched you walk down the aisle towards him.

A wedding ceremony was something Jean thought he had to give up for loving both you and Vincent.

A small sacrifice for everything he gained from and with you.

But you had sought a way. Someone willing to help you. And you had found it. Even if Jean didn’t like or trust him very much, and he wasn’t the only one. But he was in no position to be picky, and you and Vincent were so happy.

And there you were now, in this dream that had become true.

Your eyes met his, and you gave him a smile, also struggling with your own tears. You were always his radiant light, but your smile shone brighter than ever before at this moment.

Jean averted his gaze from you, stunned by such radiance, and his gaze fell on the other groom by his side.

Vincent looked equally stunned as he stared at you, almost as if he was frozen by it.

Everyone’s eyes were on you too, some who also looked about to cry - again in some cases.

Jean looked back at you, his eyes meeting yours again, and he had to close his eyes to still keep the tears back. You were beautiful in any form, but there was something dreamy about you today. A scene Jean wished he could immortalize somehow.

Not that he would ever forget this moment.

When you were at the foot of the stairs, both of them extended their hands to you, and you held them, taking a deep breath.

Pulling you right between them, both kissed the back of the hand they were holding, and when they looked up, the three if you shared a smile.

Vincent’s smile was as radiant as yours and, for the first time, Jean had no doubt he looked just as radiant to you.

You made him glow. And Jean was no longer afraid of being, not only under your light, but also of being a bright star himself.

You made him, not only long for the light, but turned him into light. Light he would always use to bring you happiness.

And you made him feel like he was forgiven. Like the monster that he was afraid of becoming no longer existed.

And maybe, this unusual relationship would indeed be blessed.

And the ceremony started. Jean unsure if he would make it to the end of it without crying, with how your radiant love filled his heart.

Tag List:

@tele86, @nightghoul381, @natimiles

@bicayaya, @eventinelysplayground, @queengiuliettafirstlady

If you want to be tagged/untagged on future writings, you can reply to this post or send me a message

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[with-a-ghost-mr-holmes]

Fluffbruary: Day 14

Prompt: bubble bath.

John cursed his job the entire day for keeping him away from Sherlock for over 10 hours on Valentine’s Day.

John realizes Sherlock’s just as eager to make up for that time when he arrives home and finds a bubble bath ready, the bathroom dimly lit by a few scattered candles.

Then Sherlock appears at the door, already naked and holding a bottle of champagne and two glasses. He places them by the tub before enfolding John in his arms and kissing him deeply.

“Well, well,” John croons. “Aren’t you a romantic.”

“Consider it extended foreplay,” Sherlock murmurs, mischief personified.

Tags:

@fluffbruary @totallysilvergirl @calaisreno @a-victorian-girl @helloliriels @peanitbear @pressurepoint221 @dubiouslynamed @yellowpamonha @ehuether @lgcgjd @gomielka @kittenmadnessandtea @chriscalledmesweetie @justnerdystuffs @missdeliadili @topsyturvy-turtely @fullyouthwerewolf @chinike @iamjustreading @effulgentcorruptedpov @strawberrywinter4 @seagoing-nerd @annaofthenorthernlights @keirgreeneyes @brightbquirky @mazaherstuff @naefelldaurk @kettykika78 @whatnext2020 @dinner--starving @under-loch-n-key @inevitably-johnlocked  @safedistancefrombeingsmart @meetinginsamarra @gaylilsherlock @snonkerdoodlefizzy221b @7-percent @discordantwords @221beloved @sabsi221b @khorazir @johnlockismyreligion

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And an immense THANK YOU for reblogging/leaving comments/liking my stuff. It means the world to me, and interacting with the fandom is one of my biggest joys! 🥰

[seekers-who-are-lovers]

The light of his heart

Written for @fluffbruary Extended for the month of July: library | glimpse | trip .

Thank you for the prompt. This is the continuation of the fiction: The Favourite: Fragments from the last setting. Both Wakamiya/Nazukihiko and Yukiya’s characterisation might be OOC, but reading the third novel and mainly watching the anime, Nazukihiko’s resolve crumbles when it comes to Yukiya. This is my interpretation between the lines. Hence, fan fiction.

Here I am still focusing on Yukiya/Wakamiya ship whereas the Japanese audience, who have read all Chisato Abe’s novels and collection of stories, are already hard on Yukiya/Shigemaru train.

—

Fandom: Yatagarasu: The Raven Does Not Choose Its Master

Characters: Wakamiya/Nazukihiko, Yukiya, a very brief appearance of Sumio

Rating: T to slight M

—

Oh, I beg you, / always, always stay / the light of my heart, just as you have / illuminated my way / for an entire year!

— Daigobô Toshiô ( from “Japanische Jahreszeiten: Tanka und Haiku aus dreizehn Jahrhunderten”)

As soon as Yukiya rose to his feet, Wakamiya watched his every move and marveled at how his former attendant had grown up. Gone were the baby fats on the cheeks. The prominent jawline took over a once perfect oval face, and his eyes were bluer than before. He tied his hair on top of his head that flowed down his shoulders reaching the chest. Reddish brown, the same colour like his deceased mother’s, the second princess of the North. He kept his fringe. It suited the younger man, who turned 18.

He also gained more muscles due to countless rigorous trainings at the academy—hand-to-hand combat or otherwise— shapely powerful legs that brought into the fore. He was also a proud owner of a golden sword that dangled on his left side. The dainty stubborn boy was gone replaced by a cunning young military man ready to challenge the enemies of Yamauchi.

“Are you only going to stare at me the whole time? Or are you going to ask me what happened during my absence? If I have friends… Or how am I?” Yukiya licked his lips while he gazed at the Crown Prince, who, in turn, could not take his eyes off his personal guard.

Nazukihiko thought: Which you have. I know them well. You are enjoying your remarkable intimacy with Shigemaru, a fellow Northerner. It bothers me a bit, quite to be honest. And there’s Haruma, who looks up to you as if you were his god. He invited Yukiya personally after the young man successfully took the topmost award among the graduates at Keisoin.

This is strange. Words failed Wakamiya. As a true Golden Raven, he should not feel anything, like desire, at all. Hiding the blush on his cheeks, he shook his head and laughed softly to himself then turned his back to his distinguished guest. He focused his attention instead to the scrolls and books that he was reading at the moment laid out on the mahogany table next to the wall.

No more words exchanged, but heavy footsteps that made the nightingale floors chirp.

Read the rest on AO3.

(Images courtesy of Matsuzaki Natsumi and Studio Pierrot)

*Here I go again @ynxnyx

[fluffbruary]

Hi, thank you for the great prompts! I only dscovered them recently but have two little somethings written for January. My question, should entries for the Jan 14 prompts be posted on Ao3 in the Fluffbruary 2023 collection or in a Fluffbruary 2024 collection? Is there one for 2024 yet?

So glad you have been writing fluff, @astaldis! If you post your two somethings in January, by all means pop them into the Fluffbruary 2023 collection. There will be one for Fluffbruary 2024, beginning with 1 February. 🍦

[lisbeth-kk]

My entry to this month's Extended Edition of Fluffbruary. Prompts: library - glimpse - trip

Kings, Queens, and Everything in Between

Summary: Sherlock and John play the Rizla game decades after John's stag night. This time Sherlock is determined to end the evening differently, just like he's dreamt of.

@fluffbruary @totallysilvergirl @keirgreeneyes @calaisreno @helloliriels

@raina-at @meetinginsamarra @safedistancefrombeingsmart @gregorovitch-adler @topsyturvy-turtely

@jolieblack @peanitbear @phoenix27884 @bs2sjh @brandiwein1982

@meandhisjohn @a-victorian-girl @221beloved @ninasnakie @shy-bi-inlovewithregandmoony

@lhrinchelsea

(Tell me if you want to be tagged or untagged)

[diskaywrites]

Fluffbruary 2025 Either You're Out or You're In

𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭 #𝟐𝟒: 𝐖𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐒𝐩𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐓𝐫𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐭 𝐱 𝐄𝐥𝐢𝐣𝐚𝐡 𝐁𝐞𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐭𝐭 (𝐨𝐜) 𝐌𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐎𝐟: 𝐆𝐢𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐨𝐧 𝐁𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐨𝐜𝐤 (𝐨𝐜), 𝐖𝐚𝐝𝐞 𝐁𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐭 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐃𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟕𝟒𝟓 @fluffbruary

The arrival of the second-generation star had the rest of the Progress roster in a panic, but the moment that Spike Trivet had heard about the arrival of Elijah Bennett, the Progress World Champion knew he needed to meet the son of the self-professed king. After all, the Progress World Champion led the most dominant team on the roster in Dominatus Regnum. If they could add one more dangerous man to their ranks, Trivet would simply be pleased as punch. It was why he had sent his right-hand man, Giddeon Braddock, to collect the newcomer.

The private locker room was decorated as a champion deserved, leather seating and a quiet area away from the rest of the roster. It didn't matter to Spike how cramped the changing room of the others was so long as he didn't have to stomach the common dregs of the lower classes. Giddeon had made sure the room was flawless, as he always did. A simple bottle of red wine sat on the long black table decorated with other snacks for Dominatus to enjoy, various meats and cheeses as well as fruits and vegetables on a snack tray. Spike's black-gloved hand picked up one of the pieces of strawberry, popping it into his mouth with a satisfied grin as the door opened.

"Lord Trivet?" Giddeon's velvet voice echoed through the quiet room, "Your guest is here."

Spike gripped the cane in his hand, decorated with a silver wolves head at the top, turning to face the door with a polite grin, "Excellent. Escort him inside."

The door opened a little wide and as soon as the other man entered, Spike felt his heart catch in his chest. Elijah was a magnificent specimen up close. He was broad but short, making the muscles that his t-shirt cling to his muscles even more. That black hair that usually hung wet and stringy on his shoulders in the ring seemed to be combed out and pulled back for once. 𝑨𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒔𝒆 𝒆𝒚𝒆𝒔! Those piercing blue eyes seemed to stare straight into Spike Trivet's rotten soul. "You must be Spike Trivet," his guest spoke, those eyes raking over his own form, "your man here was adamant you wanted to see me?"

"Why, yes, I sent for you," Spike strode forward, black-gloved hand extended for a shake. When Elijah did take his hand, Spike noticed the grip of the shake. "A firm handshake for a firm man. I like that, Elijah. Please! Sit! Giddeon, pour our guest and myself some wine."

Spike and Elijah moved to the leather chairs in the room, sitting almost in unison. Spike crossed one leg over the other, tapping his fingers against the chairs arm. "It is a lovely little locker room you have here, Trivet. You must be well liked by management."

Spike let out a laugh, "Come now, Bennett. We both know your father doesn't particularly like anyone. What he does is what the rest of the locker room does. He 𝒇𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒔 Dominatus Regnum. The whole of the roster 𝒇𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒔 Dominatus Regnum. And that is what we offer you. It is what I offer you."

The large form of Giddeon Braddock brought two wine glasses to the table, serving both men their drink. Spike's vulturine gaze watched as Elijah picked up the glass, sniffing its contents before tossing it back as if it were nothing, "What are you offering, Spike?"

Spike picked up his own glass, sniffing the contents as was customary. It was fresh, oaky in its smokiness. He took a sip, reveling in the black cherry taste. It reminded him of the summer pudding his mother had once made when he was young. He sloshed the red liquid in the glass around for a moment before speaking up, "Allow me to be the guide to your time here in Progress. Allow me to offer Dominatus as you need to accomplish your goals."

Elijah leaned back in his chair, an amused smirk on his face, "That sounds like I am the only one benefitting. I've heard the stories about you. That isn't your motive."

Spike took another long sip of his wine, watching Elijah over the rim of the glass. Handsome and smart? He was absolutely the kind of man Spike wanted in Dominatus Regnum. Elijah was the prince to his lord and Spike hoped his offer was enticing as he revealed what he would get out of the situation, "Simple. I get to enjoy your company."

[a-forbidden-detective]

Colluding

Written for @flashfictionfridayofficial with the prompt #FFF252 Spill the tea and @fluffbruary April 14 prompt : coffee | florist | vision

Fandom: Kamonohashi Ron no Kindan suiri/ Ron Kamonohashi: Deranged Detective

Pairing: RonToto, Ron & Kei Moore Kikuma

Words: 1148

Sprinkled with spoilers from Chapters 122 to 129, please tread carefully.

—

RON didn’t think of seeing Kei ever again. He wished it could have happened when the younger man was not in danger. Would it be nice to have a conversation about the past and the present times without someone being killed or gravely hurt? So many things to catch up, so many things to talk about.

So when Ron’s phone rang and registered an unknown number, it made him raise his left eyebrow. It also made him a tad bit excited, truth to tell.

“Ron-senpai.” It was Kei, his voice a bit croaky, Ron surmised, from not speaking much. The forbidden detective made a sigh of relief. A gesture that seemed to encourage the other party to extend an invitation, to continue the acquaintance.

The Detective Alliance’s Japanese branch director was released from the hospital after the attack from Alice Moriarty’s men. Ron and Toto found out that Tiger Daniel Moriarty was still alive, who masterminded the attempted murder. Kei’s recuperation took place somewhere away from Tokyo, a place that no one knew except for the Detective Alliance insiders.

“I would be delighted if I could see you again …Ron… Senpai. Alone.” Out of the blue, Ron clutched his chest. His heart beat so fast. He turned his gaze to the door, any minute from now, Toto would return from the police briefing.

“Fine, tell me when and where can we meet up.”

~~

When Ron turned 13, he and his mother did a road trip together heading to Akita. The town was teeming with onsen but they went to a particular place. A man was waiting for them at the gate. There was a boy next to him, clinging to his side, a boy much younger than him.

“Kiku!!!!” Ron ran up to the man whose familiarity urged him to come to him. He was a frequent visitor to his grandparents’ house and a confidante of his mother for years.

“Ron-kun you haven’t met my son, Kei.” Like him, the boy seemed to have a foreigner mother, judging from his features. What made him stand out was the copious amount of acne that began to build up on his forehead. Otherwise, Ron found him attractive. His black eyebrows reminded him of a samurai character he once read as a small child. He wanted to be acquainted with that boy someday.

~~

And so here they were in the cafe inside the Detective Alliance’s secret headquarters in Japan. A car picked him up and brought him to Kei, who had already taken his seat waiting for him while drinking his English breakfast tea and was about to spread cream and strawberry jam on his scones.

“Care to join me for an afternoon tea?” There were lemon and carrot cakes and egg, cucumber and salmon sandwiches laid out on the two-tier silver tray apart from the newly baked scones the younger man was consuming at the moment.

“Only coffee for me, Kei. I had lunch with Toto.”

“Ah… of course.” Kei said. “How is he dealing with all of this? How is your … partner?” He tried hard not to show the disappointment tending to break onto the surface.

“You mean Toto?” The question bewildered Ron. The police officer would take it as a responsibility as it was a personal matter, a task that must be solved. Like always.

Who else?

Kei sensed his Senpai’s confusion and attempted to change the topic. After all, he didn’t know anything about the Japanese police investigator other than it was his father who was the couple’s matchmaker.

“He matters to you a lot, ne Ron-senpai?”

The question might seem daunting. Toto never advertised their relationship at all but everyone knew that they were partners in every sense of the word. There were of course some misunderstandings at first but somehow it was already resolved after the situation with Kawasemi-san and then later the fire at the Plateau Auberge that cemented their relationship. If Ron were honest to himself, he was not so sure of the former. It was true that the incident at the burning hotel confirmed that they were ready to die together, but when it came to Kawasemi-san he was not at all convinced Toto wanted to give up the Aichi police investigator and his affections. Toto was consciously avoiding the possibility of crossing paths with him and it made Ron uncomfortably suspicious. In his mind he gave Toto a carte blanche of his trust. No way Toto would betray him, would he?

“Yes, he is very important to me.”

~~

As soon as Kei cut the telephone conversation, Toto began to speak. His eyes fiery and questioning.

“Spill the tea. What happened between the two of you? There must be something that you’ve done in the past that made him hate you.”

Ron looked at Toto then brought his attention to his lap, which seemed to be much more important than his partner’s concern.

“Like what he said, youthful indiscretion,” Ron said.

Toto surmised that he was avoiding the topic. So, he tried again.

“Excuse me? What did you mean by that? There are so many types of youthful indiscretions.”

“Before l headed to England to study at the BLUE Academy, Kei asked me that once we were finished, we should team up like my legendary ancestor and his companion had done.”

“And?” Toto knew that there might be more to it.

“It did not happen, of course. I told him that it would not do. I wanted to work alone.”

Ron took a bag of black sugar from the table and started to drink it then he stood up and opened the blinds. He usually never did, but something bothered him when he did not know the answer. Toto sensed his partner’s uneasiness. Kei was now a case he had to solve. A big one at that.

“That was the only reason?”

“What else should I tell you? What else is there to reveal? His immaturity will cause him his life! And the Detective Alliance is not much of a great help!” Ron hit the wall next to where he was standing that nearly gave Toto a heart attack. This show of emotion was out of character.

Toto shook his head out of frustration. Forcing Ron to be truthful was a perplexing task that Toto avoided if he could.

“After this, you must discuss whatever misunderstanding you two have. This cannot go on forever. One way or another we must continue cooperating with him, not only because of your detective license, but also knowing that he is Kiku-san’s son and a higher-up from the Detective Alliance, he could also be helpful to us.”

Ron smirked. “Somehow you begin to think like me, Toto. I like that.”

Toto went up to him and embraced him from behind, hoping that he could calm Ron down, even for a short while.

(tbc)

[imhereforscm]

"Yet another dream"

Genre: fluff

Pairing: Ichthys × reader

Warnings: none

For the Fluffbruary event (@fluffbruary )

A/N: IT'S STARTIIIIING!!!😭😭💕💕💕OKAY OKAY IT'S STARTING!!! HELLOOO!! I LOVE YOU!!! I hope you enjoy!!

Prompts: downy | clinic | nuance (Day 1/2024)

--------------------------------------------

The cat purred, as it raised its head, allowing Ichthys to scratch her white chin and he laughed softly, watching as it rolled on its back.

Ichthys' fingers slipped through the cat's downy body, between the soft brown fur across its back with the uneven beige spots. "You like this, dontcha?" He spoke, smiling at the cat shifting around on the floor of the balcony.

The door opened and closed and you walked in, your soles patting the floor lightly. The familiarity of your home brought tranquility to your mind and your husband's voice traveling faintly through the halls made you smile.

You made your way to the living room and simply stood by the door at first, admiring the beauty before you.

Beams of sunlight fell from the Heavens and washed over the world, the sky bright blue and with no cloud in sight. Ichthys was crouching on the ground, using both fingers to massage the cats fuzzy body.

The cat mewed and extended a paw out to Ichthys, which he took in his own hand, moving it up and down like a handshake.

"Well, what a polite little thing you are!" He chuckled and placed a hand on the cat's belly, scratching it there. And then he lifted his head and your breath almost stopped, the world hushing all around you. His grey eyes looked like silver rings left outside, beneath the sunlight and his grin created dimples in his cheeks and all you craved was to place kisses on each one. "Hey, babe!" He spoke and his voice brought you back to reality.

You went out to the balcony and the cat got up, its tail swaying behind it as it walked away. She'd come back tomorrow. She always did, wanting a portion of Ichthys' affection on a daily basis.

"It puts my mind at peace, knowing you're not alone when I'm gone in the morning." You said, smiling at your husband as he rose to his full height.

He chuckled. "She's soft and always craves affection." His crystalline eyes turned to yours and captivated your heart. "Just like you."

You laughed and he cupped your cheeks, bringing his lips to your forehead, breathing into your scent as he kissed you. His kiss was warm and comforting, the shape of his lips familiar to your skin.

"Your smile is so cute!" He tilted your head a bit, peering into your face. "So?" He and frowned a little. "What did the doctor say?" He asked, his thumbs tracing your cheekbones gently.

You placed your hand on top of his and turned your head to the side, pressing a kiss to his palm. "Come inside and I'll tell you."

His hands slipped away from you, his warmth lingering on your skin still, even after he followed you inside.

You sat down on the sofa and he took his rightful place beside you, his fingers gripping his knees somewhat nervously.

"Well..." You paused, trying to suppress the wide grin threatening to reveal itself across your features. "About all the times when I woke up looking odd..."

"Yeah, the nuance in your color. I'm still worried about that. So what did the doctor say?" He looked at you expectantly, anticipating an answer for all the days when you'd leap out of bed and rush to the bathroom.

You couldn't keep the smile under control any longer. Your lips curled, offering your face a pleasant expression, filled with emotionalism.

"What's the matter?" He asked, his eyes brimming with childlike curiosity.

"Ichthys, remember what we talked about on our first anniversary?" Your hands enveloped his, bringing them on your lap and caressing the back of them softly.

"On our first anniversary..." He muttered to himself, appearing skeptical as he was reminiscing that day which was carved into your memories. "We said-..." He hushed abruptly, pursing his lips together. He breathed in deeply. "What did the doctor tell you...?"

Your vision blurred and you blinked, the tears spilling and streaming down your cheeks, cool and salty. "I'm pregnant."

Ichthys shut his eyes tightly, but a single tear still managed to slip out. "(Name)..." He opened his eyes again, staring at you with a smile that kept broadening. "Man, I'm so so happy right now!" He threw his arms around you, enveloping you in a tight hug and making you fall backwards on the cushions. "I'm so happy! We're going to be parents!" He said, sobbing into your chest.

You hugged him back and played with his hair, his silky locks wrapping beautifully around your fingers.

He placed his forearms on either side of you and raised the upper half of his body. His face was wet and the falling tears caught the rays of sunlight slipping into the room through the balcony.

"Yet another dream became true." You said, leaving a kiss to the tip of his nose.

"I love you so much." He leaned in, his lips connecting with yours and some droplets of his happiness fell on your cheeks. He pulled away, wiping them off of you and rested his hand on your hair, keeping them away from your face.

"We don't know the gender yet." You shared the rest with him. "We'll know in a month."

"It doesn't matter. I'm gonna love them unconditionally no matter what." He sucked in a shaky breath and stared lovingly down at you, admiring the woman he adored so much. He chuckled, wiping away the tears. "My mother's gonna go insane."

You giggled in return, touching his jaw softly and caressing his dimple with your thumb. "Can gods faint from shock?"

"She'll make it possible." He laughed, his eyes squinting kindly. "I love you so much."

"I love you too."

[whumpay]

Tank you for organizing this fun event, love the extended Fluffbruary! Here are my ideas for prompt:

Purring

Unicorn

I will find you

Never lost,  always found

Gugelhupf

Shelter from the Storm

Chocolate Mousse

I will not let you down

Moonshine stroll

Tickle monster

Indian Summer

Butterflies

Hey I think this might have been sent to the wrong blog lol

[autobot2001]

Ask Her to The Dance

Author: Autobot2001 Genre: Fanfiction Fandom: Transformers Rating: E Warnings: Brief mention of poor mental health. Description: Drift wants to take Jamie to the Valentine's Day dance at the N.E.S.T. base.

Day 18; @fluffyfebruary: shadow @fluffbruary: suave | cologne | gradual

The Autobots and soldiers at N.E.S.T. like how Colonel William Lennox would plan events around Earth holidays. Precautions are taken to mitigate Decepticon attacks. Regardless if an event is planned. Since Valentine’s Day is on Wednesday this year, a dance is planned for Saturday. Drift wants to take Jamie to the dance as a date. With the dance next week, Drift needs to talk to Jamie, so the two can prepare for the dance.

Jamie gazes at the ocean from the balcony. She sees a shadow gradually approach from behind before hearing the sliding door open. "What are you doing standing out here?" "I hoped to see stars but saw the full moon on the ocean. No stars tonight." Drift's holoform stands next to Jamie. The height difference making him tower over her. Even with the sixteen-inch height difference, Drift still pictures dancing with Jamie. Not caring if dancing would be him holding her or even being on his knees to dance the traditional couple's dance. Even with this desire, he is worried about asking her. He's reminded about part of their complicated relationship. To Drift, Jamie being a cross-dimensional traveler is the least of the challenges. He and his friends can visit her dimension and stay for extended periods. They've learned how humans treat mental health. Which has made Jamie afraid to love Drift. She has shown she loves him, but he can tell she's cautious. Jamie has told him she's making it easier for him to move on because of her mental health and the chemical in her blood trying to kill her. To Jamie, this is protecting Drift from heartbreak, but Drift feels this shows how afraid to love Jamie is and how hurt she is. He still loves her. "Drift?" Jamie's blue eyes look at him, concerned. "I'm fine, just thinking. You know there's a Valentine's Day dance on Saturday?" Jamie nods, "we should go. Our friends will be there," Drift sees the uncertainty in Jamie's eyes. He crouches down to her level and takes her hands, "it'll be fun." Drift worries he's causing Jamie to think she has to go rather than being encouraging. He knows it's part of her mental health struggle. Jamie tells Drift she'll go to the dance. Drift wasn't expecting Jamie to mention the cologne he has only for special events. "I will do that," he smiles and kisses Jamie, "if you want me to wear it daily, I will." Jamie only smiles.

(To be continued)