#Fluffbruary 2023

[michellemisfit]

Sometimes it’s nice to take a moment to look back at what you’ve created.

[ghostofnuggetspast]

This is just one verse of this chapter. Continued and finished on a03!

Chapter 10: Denouement

28th February - vanilla, shell, bathtub

Ooh la la, there's music in the air! Ritual, serve, be smug.

A candle with vanilla smell … A bathtub with Sherlock as well … John joins him right quick. Sherlock goes to lick The shell of his ear. That feels swell! + +(ahem.)

Thanks for coming along with me! Shut the door on that flat before you see something you shouldn't. ;) Continued and finished on a03!

Based on @chriscalledmesweetie 's Mrs Hudson's Fluff Brew! Give it a read and some love!

Tumblr Navigation: Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9, Chapter 10

@calaisreno @helloliriels @friday411 @totallysilvergirl @naefelldaurk @keirgreeneyes @peanitbear @bluebellofbakerstreet @anyawen

[ninsletamain]

Fluffbruary Day 6: tie | embarrassment | dessert

My contribution to RebelCaptain Fluffbruary PLUS @quarantineddreamer's super ultra amazing fic addition below the cut!!!

The lines of code on the screen were no longer making sense. Somewhere between coffees 4 and 5 of the day they had slipped from Jyn’s grasp, gone from familiar symbols to something more akin to ancient hieroglyphics–as sure a sign as any that it was long-past time for her to take a break from her assignment. 

Reaching her arms skyward–tight knots in the muscles of her shoulders and along her spine protesting–Jyn glanced blearily at the alarm clock that perched neatly on the corner of the desk. 

Shit. Was that really the time? She scrambled to her feet, socks slipping on the linoleum floor, and threw her hair quickly into a bun. (Or what she hoped would pass for one anyways.)

Pants. I need pants. Jyn cast about the room, throwing the covers of the bed back, checking over the back of the roller-chair she’d spent the day–no, longer than that apparently–glued to, but found nothing. 

She could have sworn she had at least dropped a pair of sweatpants at the end of the bed at some point…

Cassian must have tidied up before he left (the neat freak); she hadn’t even noticed. That happened sometimes: the computer consuming her when she was locked onto a particular idea. But it shouldn’t have happened today. Today she had planned to wrap up her coursework early, surprise him… 

Okay screw the pants, Jyn decided, marching from the room towards the kitchen with all the determination of a soldier approaching the battlefield.

(If a soldier’s uniform was your boyfriend’s oversized, university sweatshirt and the fight ahead was the arduous task of preparing a meal.)

It took her more than a few tries to find everything–despite how organized Cassian kept his kitchen cabinets–but before too long Jyn was staring down at the black, glinting surface of a flawlessly seasoned cast iron pan and the looming depths of a large pot, a box of spaghetti, its matching jar of sauce, and an assortment of meat and vegetables thrown on the counter beside them. 

“I’ve got this,” Jyn muttered to herself, eyeing the recipe she’d taped to the fridge like it might grow fangs and snap at her. (Or catch fire and nearly burn the place down as had happened on her most recent foray into chefdom). “You’ve hacked into government systems before,” she continued. “This will be easy compared to that. A piece of cake, or a pot of pasta.” Hopefully anyways. 

She checked the oven clock. If she stood any chance of getting this done before Cassian (Impossibly-Punctual) Andor came home she had to start now. 

The empty apartment should have been quiet, peaceful. Instead, it suddenly seemed impossibly loud, noises swelling in her ears the longer she stood staring at the array of ingredients and tools––footsteps from the neighbor above, the distant rumble of a washing machine next door, the clicking of the fridge beside her, all clamoring in some insane harmony. 

The longer she stood there waiting (for what, she had no idea) the more power the sounds seemed to hold, quick to dredge up each and every anxious thought she had been so diligently shoving to the furthest corners of her mind since Cassian had told her of his plans to travel to Yavin…

When he cooked, Cassian always had music playing. Maybe that would help. Drown out the worry and the fear.

Jyn pulled her phone from the pocket of the red hoodie and tapped a playlist at random. Something upbeat began playing, muffled through the fabric as she tucked the phone back into the pocket, rolled up the too-long sleeves of the sweatshirt, and drew a deep breath. “Alright, here goes nothing…”

Turning down the hallway that led to his apartment, Cassian smelled something…interesting. 

He tried to pin down what it was. Starch, yes. Tomatoes, yes. Onions and garlic, most likely. But then there were other unexpected notes, the heat of what might have been chili powder tickling at his nostrils, growing stronger with each step closer he got to his door, and maybe the cheese he was smelling was parmesan or pecorino? The combination wasn’t exactly bad, just off–out of balance. 

He thought for sure it was one of the neighbors; maybe Mrs. McCleod experimenting again–after all, she had stopped him just last week to ask him about his favorite market for finding fresh produce.

But as he passed by Mrs. McCleod’s apartment, he noticed the crack under the door was dark, a small pile of mail collecting beneath her welcome mat. She was probably away visiting her niece again. Which meant that the smell was most likely emanating from the door at the end of the hall.

His door. 

Cassian tugged his tie looser, a warmth kindling in his stomach, a smile slowly spreading across his face; Jyn. 

He’d insisted she should stay at his apartment while he was gone–enjoy some solitude away from distracting roommates and loud neighbors–but he hadn’t been entirely certain she would take him up on it. She’d given him a strange look at the suggestion (despite the fact that after nearly a year of dating, she seemed to spend more time in his apartment than her own) and returned to her keyboard, completely absorbed in the endless numbers and symbols flashing wildly across the computer screen at her command.

The reaction hadn’t been a total shock to him. Jyn had been unusually quiet ever since he’d first mentioned his job interview in Yavin. He’d tried to tell himself she was just preoccupied with the workload associated with the final semester before she earned her degree, but deep down he knew that she was likely asking herself the same questions as he was: If I get this job, what happens to us? 

Cassian reached into his suit pocket for his key, twisted it in the lock, and slowly opened the door, his eyes tearing up at the overwhelming burn of capsaicin in the air. Dropping his backpack by the door, he followed the sound of hissing steam, music, and occasional cursing into the kitchen. 

It had been just over a day since he’d seen her, but even so, Cassian had spent the plane ride home longing for the moment when he could wrap his arms tight around her again, kiss her until they were both oxygen deprived and gasping for air. 

He’d envisioned a quick, eager reunion. Unable to hold himself back from rushing towards her; clumsy, grabbing hands and awkward clashing of teeth. 

But then he saw her: standing in his kitchen with her hair wild atop her head, dancing from the stovetop to a nearby drawer; humming along to the song playing faintly in the background as she poked uncertainly at a pan of sauteed vegetables and shot a quick glance at a boiling pot of water–and all he could think to do was lean his shoulder into the doorframe and stare, his breath catching in his chest with a fierce and sudden ache. 

Cassian knew he was helplessly, hopelessly lost–had known it for a while–but it had never been more apparent to him than in that moment, hovering at the threshold. He was certain that if he did nothing else for the rest of life but watch her, he’d still die the happiest man on earth. 

She’d decided to borrow his favorite sweatshirt while he was away–red, well-worn, with Ferrix University emblazoned across the front. As she rose on her tiptoes to reach into the spice cabinet, the bottom of the sweatshirt rose too, revealing the faintest glimpse of black panties, serving in sharp contrast to the perfect, pale curve of her ass. 

The sight inspired a different kind of ache. Cassian made his way across the kitchen, and placed his hands on Jyn’s shoulders. Somehow, the only words he could seem to find were, “You’re cooking.”

A string of swear words fell out of her mouth in quick succession. “I could’ve stabbed you,” she grumbled, even as she set down the knife she was holding to lean backwards into him. “You shouldn’t sneak up on me like that.”

“I’m surprised I managed to.”

He felt her shoulders rise and fall against him. “I was distracted.” 

“I can see that,” he mused. “You’re cooking. You hate cooking.”

He could just make out the faint flush that rose in Jyn’s cheeks as she glanced back at him, her hair tickling his chin. “I do hate it,” she agreed, “but I figured you’d be hungry and…well, I don’t hate you.” 

A soft laugh escaped him, “What a relief.”

“Shut up.”

“No really,” he said, pulling her closer. “I was beginning to wonder.”

“Do you want food or not?” Her scowl was made significantly less believable by the smile catching quickly at the corners of her mouth. 

Cassian gave a considerate hum. His stomach had been rumbling as he stepped off the plane, but now a different kind of hunger was taking hold. His skin was hot beneath his suit where Jyn’s body pressed against his own; all he could seem to think of was her in his sweatshirt–in only his sweatshirt. 

But Jyn seized his brief lapse of silence as an opportunity to change subjects. “So…How’d the interview go?” she asked lightly, though her muscles went tight as she dipped a wooden spoon in the red liquid that bubbled on the stove in front of her.

He watched as she blew steam away from the spoon before bringing it to her mouth to taste and wincing. “The interview was fine,” he murmured, pressing (what he hoped she would as) a reassuring kiss to the top of her head.

The smile had already vanished from Jyn’s face. “You think you got the job then?”

Cassian moved his hand slowly up and down her arm, earlier ideas already forgotten. “They made me an offer,” he admitted quietly. 

“They did…” The energy seemed to have drained straight out of her–the dancing, humming, swearing woman from moments ago turned to shadow. 

Like she didn’t know. Like she couldn’t feel the frantic stuttering of his heart where his chest pressed between her shoulders blades. Like she couldn’t sense him, standing right here beside her on the knife’s edge. 

“I told them I couldn’t give them an answer yet,” he told her. Of course I did. As though there had been anything else he could do…

“You did what?” Jyn twisted in his arms. “That is your dream job. You know you want to go, so just go. Why would you–”

“Jyn,” he cut in, and she went still–let him hold her in place for at least a moment longer while he continued. “I said yet. I told them I couldn’t give them an answer yet.”

Her knuckles were white, wrapped tight around the wooden spoon. He reached past her and switched off the burners before anything could start smoking or boil over.

Cassian’s own nerves were starting to take hold. He gave a hard swallow, trying to clear the tightness from his throat. “I don’t want to go to Yavin. Not without you… I don’t want to go anywhere without you.”

“What are you saying?”

“Come with me. After you graduate in the spring, come with me.”

“Cass…”

He was about to tell her she didn’t have to answer right now–to delay whatever pain he sensed was coming from inevitable rejection–when she closed her hand around his tie and tugged him closer, tilting her head back to press her lips to his. 

Beneath his mouth, he could feel her smile forming, but it still took his breath away to see it when they broke apart. “Is that a yes, then?”

Jyn wound his tie tighter around her hand. “I like this suit,” she commented, eyes sweeping across the blue fabric and back to the black silk of the tie. 

“I’m taking that as a yes…” Cassian told her, his attention splitting as she began to playfully undo the top buttons of his shirt. 

“I cooked for you…” Her lips passed over his throat, her voice muffled. 

Heat was racing up Cassian’s spine, his thoughts going increasingly hazy. “You did…” he replied, inhaling sharply as the hand not wrapped in his tie found the back of his head, fingers tugging lightly at his hair. 

“I’m a terrible cook, but I cooked. For you.”

She still hadn’t answered him. Not really. He wanted an answer, a definitive answer. “What does this have to do with–”

“Are you still hungry?” 

“Jyn–” he pleaded.

“Because I was thinking we should forget about the food,” she continued, her mouth brushing over his ear–words like sparks to his skin. “I changed my mind. There’s something else I want to do for you instead. Something I’m much, much better at…”

He relented slightly, instinct shoving reason aside as he tugged at the hem of the sweatshirt, her skin soft against his fingertips. “What did you have in mind?” 

“You mean, aside from moving to Yavin?” she murmured with a teasing grin, pressing even closer, tips of their noses brushing, her breath warm against his cheeks.

“So that was a yes earlier…”

Jyn rolled her eyes at him. “What do you think?”

He lifted her off her feet, and she laughed, wrapping her legs tight around his torso. “I think you’re coming to Yavin with me,” he said, slightly breathless, not quite daring to believe it. 

“I’m coming to Yavin with you,” she echoed, delivering a quick kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Welcome home, Cassian.”

[a-forbidden-detective]

The one and only

—

This is written for @flashfictionfridayofficial with the prompt #FFF 232 Among any option and @fluffbruary December prompt: let go | ring | lightning | set sails in the sunset

Fandom: Kamonohashi Ron no kindan suiri/Ron Kamonohashi’s Forbidden Deductions

Things had changed ever since Toto met Ron. Or, the forbidden detective had always had the latent sense of style that was unleashed after five years of self-imposed isolation. The police officer realised that Ron was fond of wearing beaded trinkets now. The leather necklace that adorned his neck highlights his 96 scar. Toto couldn’t help looking at it. In fact, he was mesmerised by it.

Ron, in turn, sensed the effect of him wearing these ornaments with the way Toto’s face flustered whenever he caught him looking.

Toto, out of whim, bought the set of leather beaded necklace and bracelet when he was briefly in Aichi a week before Ron’s birthday. Kawasemi-san would have wanted the police officer to stay a few more days but Toto explained that he didn’t want to miss his friend’s 24th birthday celebration.

Scouting for possible souvenirs on a spring sunny day in Aichi, he ended up walking along the long line of shops selling mostly menswear items when he saw a couple of youths loitering around an imbiss across the street. One of them was obviously a mixed race. It made him turn his head twice. The particular man, tattooed and bejewelled, had the same pair of blue eyes and the bushy black hair that changed bluish when reflected in the sunlight. It was Toto’s Eureka moment.

The older police officer was not happy. He knew he should let go. Toto would never betray Ron Kamonohashi.

“I would love to see you again, Isshiki. Preferably sooner and outside of our jobs. However, it is probably moot to convince you to do that. Likewise, temporarily replacing Yamane for the time being…”

Toto shook his head. It was true that he admired his superior’s unique talent, also he didn’t look bad at all. He could ensnare anyone he fancied. But among the options Toto had, which was not that many, he already found his one and only. The question remained if his feelings were also requited.

When the police officers said their goodbyes at the train station platform, with Kawasemi-san’s downcast eyes and melancholic smile, he shook Toto’s right hand and asked not to forget him. Toto said yes and boarded the train going to Tokyo.

What Toto started became Ron’s hobby. He now had an awful lot of collection of accessories that he mixed and matched with his outfit.

“I love them, Toto. You have a good eye, surprisingly, for these things,” said Ron. “You don’t know how happy they made me.”

“I am glad,” Toto laughed nervously.

They were seated on the futon floor when Toto felt Ron’s hand touch his shoulder. It slipped upward striking his nape, and ended up toying with his undercut. Toto shivered, he couldn’t help closing his eyes, wasn’t even aware that he let out a moan.

How strange the universe is. How fickle. Last year, Toto didn’t know that Ron Kamonohashi ever existed. He must send Kiku-san his personal thanks. Perhaps Toto should ask his Oma if she could help him bake her own rendition of Sacher Torte. Kiku-san had a sweet tooth after all, his sweets addiction was well-known in the whole department.

The hand exploring his head stopped and it now landed on his face. Toto opened his eyes. Ron was smiling. His eyes shone the bluest of the blue.

“Will you stay here again tonight, Toto? Found a trick to make that hamburger steak blend in with kuromitsu and red wine.”

“Uh, yes, sure…I-I don’t mind you soaking food with brown sugar at all,” the police officer replied, grinning now.

“Good. I always prefer you here next to me. So, come, Toto!” He gave his hand to his friend and pulled him up. Their hands not letting go. Both satisfied, they headed to the kitchen.

The police officer, red on the face, was delighted to hear the answer to his question. His heart was now full.

~ fin ~

* Was inspired by Akira Amano’s illustration of RonToto from her The Characters series

[kayedium-writes]

Fluffbruary: Day Fourteen

Written for @fluffbruary (2023) day fourteen prompt: fruit

MCU / Peggy x Natasha / 266 Words

It was ridiculous. Overdone, and cliché, and… All of the things that made her want to roll her eyes and groan at the person she’d become. But then she thought of the look that would overtake Peggy’s face, one of surprise that would soften as she joined her on the couch.

Peggy might also scoff at the idea of making a big deal of Valentine’s, but on the inside… Who was really going to turn down an excuse for chocolates and a shared bottle of wine? And why should either of them deny themselves a night off? 

Read the rest on AO3!

[anxiousosaurus]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Merlin (TV) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin) Characters: Merlin (Merlin), Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Original Characters, Mordred (Merlin) Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Love Letters, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Forbidden Love, Good Mordred (Merlin), Fluff and Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Getting Back Together Series: Part 34 of Fluffbruary 2023, Part 13 of Year Of The OTP 2023 Summary:

When Mordred finds old love letters in his uncle's attic after his grandfather's funeral, he decides to help his uncle find his old love.

@fluffbruary 

@yearoftheotpevent

[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. 🍦

[elentary]

Trapped - Chapter 3 - Nyariewen - Good Omens (TV) [Archive of Our Own]

Trapped

Nyariewen

Chapter 3: Unholy infection and how to cure them

Summary:

Whumptober 13: “It comes and goes like the strength in your bones.”

Cold Compress | Infection | “I don’t feel so good.”

Aziraphale wounds gets infected.

Crowley has to find a way to solve that.

Fluffbruary - Moar fluff - October 14: sated | game | never

It's never for me.

Notes:

Whumptober 13: “It comes and goes like the strength in your bones.”

Cold Compress | Infection | “I don’t feel so good.”

I wonder why I keep coming back on the infections even if I totally hate that smell.

This chapter is also a fluffbruary prompt (@fluffbruary ): "Never". I was still late but...

[ghostofnuggetspast]

Well hello, Tumblr People! I just finished a Thing that I made for @chriscalledmesweetie as a Fandom Trumps Hate 2025 gift. It's a limerick remix of her fabulous "Mrs Hudson's Fluff Brew". It is illustrated with doodles, the like of which you might find on a middle-schooler's history notebook. I'm chunking it up so it won't take a month to post. Here's the beginning of Chapter 1! I hope you like it.

Chapter 1: The Vision

30th January

Martha, a Seer, knows fate Is not just one line going straight. She oft tries to damper The strong urge to tamper, To fix things just in the wrong state. Our tale begins with a meeting. Sherlock and John give a nice greeting. Martha can tell They match very well. Her urge to assist them is fleeting. That night, though, a Special Dream tells Of a future with all of the hells. An act of devotion Will put into motion A nightmare. She must use her spells!

More on Ao3!

Tumblr Navigation: Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9, Chapter 10

@calaisreno @helloliriels @friday411 @totallysilvergirl @naefelldaurk @keirgreeneyes @peanitbear @bluebellofbakerstreet @anyawen

omg I know I left some people out I'll rb this to the communities

[freshbrainss]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Barbie (Movie 2023) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Margot Robbie's Barbie/Gloria (Barbie 2023) Additional Tags: POV Barbie, Body Image, Mirrors, Established Relationship, Fluff, Post-Canon, Femslash February 2024, Feminist Themes Series: Part 17 of My Femslash February 2024 Summary:

As time goes on, Barbie realizes that mirrors are, in fact, not a woman’s friend.

[endlesstwanted]

Cereals And A Song

Drabble for @fluffbruary prompt — graceful. Also on Ao3 here.

Fandom: Operación Triunfo (TV)

Rating: General Audiences

Pairing: Chiara Oliver/Ruslana

Tags: Real Person Fiction, Banter, Friendship/Love

Summary: Chiara talks to Ruslana about the bright side of being nominated.

Wordcount: 100

“I was thinking, I finally realise the good thing about being nominated,” Chiara said on Wednesday at breakfast. Ruslana looked at her from the other side of the table, a shared bowl of cereals between them. “You do?” “Yeah, I get to do literally whatever I want with my song.” Chiara had chosen to sing Miley Cyrus’ The Climb to fight for her place in the Academy. She huffed. “Bullshit.” “Isn’t that enough reason to be happy?” Chiara was smiling. “No, I mean, you always do what you want,” Ruslana admitted. They laughed together, free hands linked over the table.

[fluffbruary]

Worry no more

https://archiveofourown.org/works/49343566

Extended fluffbruary. August 14 prompt: diary - clouds - coffee

@fluffbruary @totallysilvergirl @keirgreeneyes @calaisreno @a-victorian-girl @phoenix27884 @topsyturvy-turtely

[anxiousosaurus]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Merlin (TV) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin) Characters: Merlin (Merlin), Arthur Pendragon (Merlin) Additional Tags: Domestic Fluff, Married Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Honeymoon, Breakfast, Short & Sweet, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting Series: Part 37 of Fluffbruary 2023, Part 16 of Year Of The OTP 2023 Summary:

Merlin and Arthur enjoy the first morning of their honeymoon.

@fluffbruary

[astaldis]

Fluffbruary - Cat (The Witcher TV)

Somehow and very unexpectedly, a cat snuck into my story at 2:30 in the morning and insisted on being written.

Thanks for the prompt, @fluffbruary !!!

This is the beginning of Chapter 13 (sorry, the rest of the chapter has not been written yet) of "Earned Loyalty", guess Cahir and Gallatin deserve a little fluff after all the whumpy adventures from the previous chapters. For all the cat-lovers among my readers 🐈‍⬛

He wakes up to not only his shoulder aching dully where the arrow had hit him, but also to a strange feeling on his lower legs. Something heavy that is pinning them down. It radiates warmth, though, and he feels damnably cold, almost on the verge of shivering. The warmth is welcome. But what is it? With an effort of will, he forces his eyes open. It is pitch dark in the room. He listens into the silence of the night. Somebody is snoring loudly in the adjacent room, probably one of his soldiers. He can hear a soft, whimpering sound from there, too. Must be one of the children who is having a nightmare. He cannot even blame them. Being held hostage by a band of enemy soldiers must be traumatising and inspire all kinds of bad dreams. Maybe he should not have threatened to wring their necks? They have no way of knowing he would not do anything like this, at least not unless directly ordered by the White Flame. But the White Flame would not order atrocities that cruel unless it is absolutely necessary. Here, it is not.

Suddenly, when he carefully shifts his legs just a little, there is another sound. A low kind of humming. It is not coming from next door but from the foot end of the bed. Slowly, Cahir tries to sit up just a little. It hurts to move his shoulder but he is curious. His eyes have adapted to the darkness by now as much as simple human eyes can and it is possible for him to make out some rough shapes in the moonlight that shines in through the half-open window. There is a big dot of deepest darkness on the blanket where his lower legs and feet are. The sound is coming from there. A big black cat. It must have come in through the window. Maybe it is used to sleeping in this bed and does not care that an injured enemy soldier is occupying it tonight instead of its usual people? The purring is strangely soothing and with a soft groan, Cahir lies back down. A real bed with a mattress, clean blankets and soft pillows. He has missed that. And a fluffy, warm cat on top of it. While Gallatin and his men have to watch and take care of the hostages. They will not get much sleep, let alone in a bed. Maybe having got shot is not that bad after all ...

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

When Gallatin enters the room to check on Cahir as quietly as only an elf can do it, his eyes grow wide with surprise. In the flickering light of his candle, he can see a pair of big golden eyes stare at him. A huge black cat is lying curled up on his deeply asleep friend's feet. It must have snuck in through the window. Gallatin's lips curl into a smile. This is cute. He puts the candle onto the nightstand and sits down on the edge of the bed. The cat yawns and stretches extensively when he starts to ruffle its silky fur. Then it begins to purr so loudly, he is almost afraid it will wake up Cahir. And the young Nilfgaardian commander needs all the sleep he can get after having lost quite a bit of blood. But the injured knight only moves his head a little sideways, in the direction of the elf. Shit, with the candlelight illuminating Cahir's dreamy face, he would have real difficulty to decide who is cuter if he was asked, the cat or the man. Feeling a sudden, strong urge to not only stroke the purring animal but to also run his fingers through the human's curly hair, he stands up quickly. No, he definitely should not do that. 

"Gallatin?" Cahir asks drowsily, roused from his sleep by the elf's abrupt movement. "Anything the matter?"

"Ssh, go back to sleep, friend," Gallatin says, "everything 's fine and under control, don't worry."

"Good," Cahir mutters, closing his eyes again. "'m c-cold," he then adds miserably, shuddering in his semi-sleep.

It is not really cold in the room, a little fresh maybe from the draft from the window. Must be the extensive blood loss, Gallatin assumes. Or is Cahir developing a fever? He walks over to the window and closes it. The cat will hopefully tell them when it needs to get out. Cats are usually quite good and insistent at making their people aware of what they want. Then he returns to the bed to feel Cahir's forehead. It is clammy and cold, not hot. No fever, but his friend has started to shiver badly. 

"Alright, move your lazy, frozen bum over a little," Gallatin says, taking off his boots. "But careful, don't scare the cat."

The cat looks up irritatedly when Cahir stirs to make some room but it does not seem to mind much. It sits up and starts to lick its paw while waiting for the elf to get under the blankets. Still purring, it then leaves its place at the foot of the bed, comes closer and curls up on the pillows right between the two men. It must be used to two people lying under the duvets together - this is a marital bed after all. Gallatin snuggles his face into the cat's fur. Having this fluffy black barrier between them is quite fortunate. Without it, he might have been tempted to do something that he certainly should not. Not while Cahir is injured and hardly conscious. Well, most probably not ever. For it could easily destroy their friendship. But sharing a little warmth with a sick comrade should be okay, Gallatin suspects.

The cat purrs contentedly. It appears to agree.

[elentary]

White clouds - Nyariewen - Good Omens (TV) [Archive of Our Own]

White clouds

Nyariewen

Summary:

Crowley offers some "clouds" to Aziraphale which are also "beards".

Fluffbruary 2023: MORE FLUFF! @fluffbruary

14th August: Clouds

Notes:

So, it seems like I really need some fluff now (especially after that ending).

And clouds are fluffy.

To be fair, I have also already wrote something about coffee and diaries even if I fear those are not canon anymore, after the second season (and I wanted something new).

[agduna-central]

I just realized chapter 25 was missing, so here's the link to it on AO3:

My home is with you

This is a daily prompt fic-work for @fluffbruary 2023!

Rules: Bring on the fluff!

Fandom: Frozen Pairing: Agnar/Iduna

general rating: T

By now we are somewhere in early Frozen 1

day 24 - prompt: breathe on AO3