Your mods are busy building the prompt list with words and images for our next fluffstravaganza ... and we wondered if you might want to help :D
If you've got a prompt or three to suggest —words or images— drop them in an ask and send them our way. We'll enter them into our sheet, remove any duplicates, randomize the list, and use the first 87 words/13 images for our prompts. We're looking for contributions until Dec 30, so we've got a couple days to sort the list and build the post so it's ready to go in early January to give us all time to prepare for Fluffbruary.
And this Fluffbruary will be EXTRA fluffy — it's a leap year, so we get a BONUS DAY OF FLUFF! All the woot!
Don't forget we've got one more 'extended edition' prompt to go: the January 14th prompts are miracle | vintage | cat, and this stunning image of the moon -
Okay! New Extra Sugar chapter up now! Contains outsider pov, hurt/comfort, lots of Evanstan cuddles and fluff.
Come read at AO3 here! Teaser below.
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He was wearing his collar. The pretty dark blue one we see in a lot of pictures, the one they use a lot for everyday functions, kinda simple, weatherproof for omnipresent London rain, but obviously expensive.
He said we didn’t need to call anyone, he was fine, he just needed a minute and that energy bar, and his Dominant was off exploring London art and discovering galleries and even meeting with some important people about some possible collaborations in the future and he didn’t want to interrupt. He said this very earnestly. He says Chris’s name like it makes him smile every time, by the way. Even when he’s dazed and fuzzy.
Sebastian Stan’s pretty blue everyday collar of course has a microchip with his Dom’s contact information. The upscale ones do, rather than physical tags, though some people still like the look of the physical ones.
I also have a very smart smart watch. It could read that contact information when I leaned in to rub Seb’s back. Amazing.
Look, I figured Chris Evans would want to know. I’d want to know. If it were me, if it were my sub—and god am I glad L. hasn’t ever been scared or hurt or in a situation when someone else’d need to read her collar—and yeah, I know the arguments, I know about the equal-rights groups and the crusade to not be tagged like pets—but the thing is, until some of those reforms pass, or even after they do and some people still choose their collars—it’s important. You hear those stories. Emergencies. Identification. Subs who DO need a Dominant’s guidance, when something goes bad in a short-term scene and they dissociate or crash or whatever and end up wandering out into the street or something. Anyway, it’s complicated and that’s not the point of today’s post.
The point is, I sort of sneakily texted Chris Evans—in case you don’t know, and some of our readers might not, the emergency number is a special number, it isn’t his usual personal one, which is private, obviously, but it gets routed there, which also lets him know that it’s not an everyday text or call—and within two minutes, I kid you not, he came running into the studio from wherever he’d been.
And oh my god Chris Evans in full-blown protective Dominant mode is A Sight.
Panty-dropping. Heart-melting. Pretty sure every submissive in the room was halfway to getting on the floor and purring. The beard, the plaid shirt, the muscles, the raindrops making panicked splashes in his hair and on his jeans, the desperate passion, the way he just wanted to scoop Sebastian up and care for him and cherish him. Like a Dom/sub daytime soap opera come to life, Days of Surrender or Treasures or one of those classics. And all that love and frantic care focused right in on his sweet wide-eyed sub, gazing up at him from the chair.
I had told him it wasn’t that bad but I don’t think he read that far in the text. He just kind of grabbed Sebastian’s hands, then moved a hand up to touch his face, to cup his cheek: like he needed to touch his sub everywhere, unable to stay still, searching. He was asking whether Seb was okay, what happened, how he was feeling, and his voice cracked, we all heard it, and god I wanted to cry.
Sebastian said, “I’m okay, sir, I promise,” and then actually got up, which made us all kind of squeak in protest, but Chris put arms around him and held him, both of them standing there in the recording booth, Seb’s nose kind of tucked into Chris’s neck, face hidden, Chris’s eyes wet.
Sebastian said something else after a second, quiet enough that I didn’t totally catch it but it sounded like some sort of gentle teasing about a fitness monitor and whether Chris wants him to go find it and wear it again, and Chris sniffled a little and grumbled “maybe we’ll buy you a new one for London” and petted his hair. Sebastian apologized, but that was gentle too, not a big self-blame spiral but an acknowledgement that this is one of their rules, I guess, that he take care of himself, and he did technically not listen, and he was okay but he was also genuinely contrite. And Chris held onto him and even laughed, that kind of big rumbling Dominant rueful laugh, and said, “I’ll punish you for it later, after we’re both fine, then,” and Sebastian put his head on Chris’s shoulder and smiled.
