#buckysarah month

[fleurdelouvemonth]

And thus, we bring to an official close the third Fleur De Louve Month 2023! Thank you so much to all the authors and artists and creators who took part in or read or reblogged all the amazing content that was created! This list will represent our final master list.

But wait! I hear you ask: what do we do with all the love we have left behind?

Fear not! Any additional works or recs related to this month can still be submitted and we will be happy to reblog it and update the master list to include them.

The admins thoroughly enjoyed interacting with everyone and appreciate you all for helping this ship grow! Please stay tuned for what comes next and, always, keep creating for the good ship Fleur De Louve!

𝑾𝑬𝑬𝑲 𝑶𝑵𝑬: 𝑭𝒐𝒐𝒅 𝑷𝒓𝒐𝒎𝒑𝒕𝒔

Week One Masterlist

𝑾𝑬𝑬𝑲 𝑻𝑾𝑶: 𝑫𝒊𝒂𝒍𝒐𝒈𝒖𝒆 𝑷𝒓𝒐𝒎𝒑𝒕𝒔

Week Two Masterlist

𝑾𝑬𝑬𝑲 𝑻𝑯𝑹𝑬𝑬: 𝑨𝑼 𝑷𝒓𝒐𝒎𝒑𝒕𝒔

Week Three Masterlist

𝑾𝑬𝑬𝑲 𝑭𝑶𝑼𝑹: 𝑺𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒐𝒏𝒂𝒍 𝑷𝒓𝒐𝒎𝒑𝒕𝒔

Week Four Masterlist

𝑾𝑬𝑬𝑲 𝑭𝑰𝑽𝑬: 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒔 𝑷𝒓𝒐𝒎𝒑𝒕𝒔

Week Five Masterlist

Thank you again for all of the amazing content you created to make this event possible! 

Feel free to bookmark this post and come back to enjoy Fleur De Louve month again and again in the new year.

(Divider credits go to @firefly-graphics)

[tllgrrl]

SarahBucky Fleur De Louve Month 2023 - Day 7 - Prompt: “I think it looks nice.”

Sarah Wilson / Bucky Barnes

(Story inspired by Vogue Magazine’s photograph of Serena Williams in a custom Thom Browne corset gown.)

* * * * * * * * * *

When he was finished, she gingerly tip-toed to the mirror and turned around.

‘Oh…mygawd,” she whispered. “Wow…”

She turned again, stopped, and looked over her shoulder at her reflection. Her upper back was framed, and the red, white, and navy blue ribbons—that laced up the corset dress from the curve of her ass up to her waist, and from just below her shoulder blades down to the waist—stood in contrast to the black, hand-sequined fabric.

Bucky was the one who cinched her in and tied the two sections together with one bow.

The hair and makeup stylist Misty recommended was a dream. He parted her thick curly hair, braided it into 4 sections that met at the nape of her neck, then he added an extension, into which he braided one of the extra laces that came with the dress.

“You don’t think it’s too much, do you? I mean, this is New York, and the event’s really fancy, but…this. And unlacing it all later tonight is gonna be—“

*shhick…click*

She glanced over and saw him standing behind her, by the wall, as still as a statue, watching her look at herself in the full-length mirror.

His lips were slightly parted and she saw the tip of his tongue wet his bottom lip before his teeth rolled over it.

Then she saw the quick squint.

*sshhick…click*

His left hand slowly flexed, and in his right hand was his EDC switchblade that he was opening and closing methodically.

He was looking at her as though he was mapping out access points for Special Ops maneuvers.

“I think it looks great, nandi. And getting you out of it’s not gonna be a problem at all.”

* * * * * * * * * *

Also posted HERE on AO3.

* * * * * * * * * *

Thanks for reading!

[fleurdelouve]

𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒

Per the ingenious request from an anon, here are Black writers on Tumblr who write for the ship Fleur de Louve (aka SarahBucky) which involves a Black women!

The below information includes their blogs, whether they’re female or male writers, links to their ao3, and how many Fleur de Louve fics they current have posted.

This list is still in progress, so feel free to contact us if you’re Black and would like to be added to this list!

 @rebellconquerer - female - AO3: rebellconquerer

Current number of Fleur de Louve fics: 7 fics

- Has also written for: Katara/Zuko, ATLA, Sam Wilson, Ayo, Queen Ramonda, Shuri, Sam Wilson

⠀

 @palettesofrenaissance - female - AO3: palettesofrenaissance

Current number of Fleur de Louve fics: 11 fics

- Has also written for: Black Panther, Monica Rambeau, Maria Rambeau, Dr. Jason Wilkes, Michelle Jones, Spideychelle, Brunnhilde (Valkyrie from Thor), X-Men, Ava Starr (Ghost from Ant-Man), Gamora, Tyrone Johnson (from Cloak & Dagger), Liz Allan/Cindy Moon, Sam Wilson

⠀

 @btwxsixesandsevens - female - AO3: Sixes_and_Sevens

Current number of Fleur de Louve fics: 26 fics

- Has also written for: Ayo/Aneka, Black Panther, Janna/Rose Tico, Finn (from Star Wars), Jo/Drash, Dragon Age, Misty Knight, Sam Wilson, Star Wars

⠀

 @tllgrrl - female - AO3: NefertiriJones

Current number of Fleur de Louve fics: 48 fics

- Has also written for: Shuri, Okoye, Ayo, Sam Wilson, Misty Knight

⠀

 @duckybarnes1917 - female - AO3: DuckyBarnes1917

Current number of Fleur de Louve fics: alleged wips

- Has also written for: Sam Wilson, Original female character

⠀

@blackstarising - female - AO3: blackstarising

Current number of Fleur de Louve fics: 1 fics

- Has also written for: Sam Wilson, AJ Wilson, Cass Wilson

⠀

@hauntedelation - female - AO3: hauntedelation

Current number of Fleur de Louve fics: 1 fics

- Has also written for: Sam Wilson, Original female characters, Black self insert

⠀

@w00wzerz - female - AO3: WOWJAY

Current number of Fleur de Louve fics: 2 fics

- Has also written for: Starfire/Dick Greyson (Dickkory) (from Titans), All Rise, Lola Carmichael, Lola Carmichael/Mark Callan, Lola Carmichael/Robin Taylor

⠀

@wakandacoconutoil - female - AO3: wakandacoconutoil

Current number of Fleur de Louve fics: 1 fics

- Has also written for: Mel Medarda, Mel/Jayce, Shuri, Black Panther, Arcane: League of Legends

⠀

[samwpmarleau]

fic snippet: as foam upon the sea

meant for @fleurdelouvemonth but regrettably i don’t expect that the full fic will be done within the next two days and i’m already over a week behind the mermaid au prompt day this was supposed to be for (although elements of it apply to the days this week heyo), so i’m posting a piece from the middle of it to show that i participated. i haven’t written for either of these characters before so i really hope this isn’t trash, and if you notice logistical or geographical tomfoolery no you don’t

So abruptly she nearly knocks her head into his, Barnes stops. He searches the horizon — for what, she doesn’t know — his eyes narrowing beneath a growing frown. She treads water beside him, attempting to sense what he apparently does, but all she sees is what she doesn’t see. Just gently rippling blackness meeting an equally black sky broken up only by the pinpricks of starlight and the crescent moon high above.

“What is it?” she whispers.

He had said his arm could sense electro-whatever; maybe that’s happening now, maybe there’s a shark headed their way or something. Though, she doesn’t think Barnes would be quite so on edge if it were as mundane a thing as a shark. And that’s assuming a shark would even bother with them when it could have a much easier time finding different prey.

“I don’t know,” he murmurs. With a quiet shink, he withdraws a knife and hands it to her, then reaches for the boltgun strapped across his back.

She has about a dozen questions, but the tension and alertness rolling off him in waves keeps her from voicing any of them. She nervously adjusts and readjusts her grip on the knife, thoroughly unused to wielding such a utensil for any purpose besides cutting nets, cooking, or opening boxes.

Out of nowhere, Barnes snaps his head towards a specific point, no longer having a vague sense of danger. He shoves her roughly behind him, but not soon enough, and Sarah cries out as she feels a searing pain in her side. There’s still nothing above water that she can see; the shot had come from somewhere beneath. She feels another projectile whiz by, but it ricochets off Barnes’s metal arm before it can reach her. Which is where her perception of anything beneath her stops, for Barnes ducks beneath the water. There is nowhere nearby to retreat to, not even a piece of driftwood to use as a meager defense. All Sarah can do is float where she is, not draw further attention to herself, and try not to think about how much she’s bleeding from whatever laceration had been made.

She can’t tell whether it’s a minute or an hour that passes without a single indication of Barnes returning, which brings an entirely new fear to mind: whether he will return, and what it would mean for her if he doesn’t. If he’s been shot, if he’s been killed, if he’s been captured, at best she’ll be stranded in the middle of the ocean with an inventory of a single knife. Worse, HYDRA — and it must be them, of that she has no doubt — will kill her, too.

“You’re gonna be fine,” she tells herself, as if saying it aloud will make it true. “Everything is gonna be fine. This is just your typical aquatic assassination attempt, no problem.”

While it doesn’t lessen her pessimism much, it does at least help keep her focused on something other than sheer fear. She knows all too well how paralyzing fear can be, and that is the last thing she needs right now.

Shutting her eyes, she starts to hum a lullaby Titi used to sing. She can’t remember the words anymore, but she remembers the tune.

She gets a few verses in when she jerks back with a shriek, brandishing her knife at the movement she feels by her feet.

“Watch it!” hisses the movement, whose voice she identifies as Barnes. Wisely, he plucks the knife from her hand and returns it to its sheath.

“What happened?” she asks, hit with a waterfall of relief. She wishes she could see more than vague silhouettes. “That was HYDRA?”

“Yeah,” Barnes says, “They must’ve used some kind of heat signature tracking. Or maybe they caught sight of me back at the beach and dispatched divers to the area they thought I’d go. I don’t think they know exactly where, or they’d have sent more than a few guys armed with spearguns.”

That had to have been what she was grazed with, then, a speargun arrow. She can’t say she’s ever had that before, though she knows it happens back home every now and then, usually to stupid kids not paying attention to what they’re doing.

Of course, she’s fairly certain none of those stupid kids were shot by HYDRA spearguns. She gets the dubious honor of being the first.

“So what now? Are there going to be more where they came from? Do they have beacons or something they could’ve activated?”

“Likely,” Barnes says. He refastens her rope to himself. “We have to go. Once HYDRA notices their divers aren’t moving from this spot, they’ll come. With reinforcements.”

Great.

“So how are we supposed to get out of here?”

“I’ll have to dive.”

“Not all of us can hold their breath for as long as you can. How do you expect me to —”

“I don’t have time to explain.”

“Explain what?”

Barnes answers by cupping her face in his hands and kissing her full on the mouth. Before she can ask him what the hell he thinks he’s doing or push him off her, she feels an odd, though not unpleasant, tingling in her lips. A warm burn slides its way into her lungs, as though she’s taken a swig from high-shelf whiskey.

The burn lingers as Barnes drags her beneath the surface of the water. Only then does he pull away, leaving her to panic at the sensation of having no air left in her lungs. That is, until she realizes that she doesn’t need to breathe. As Barnes swims away, the rope connecting them keeping her at pace, Sarah does her best to get her bearings.

Regrettably, for all that she seems to have temporarily acquired Barnes’s breathing ability, that hasn’t affected her eyesight or cognitive processing — she can make out some shapes, but for the most part everything they pass is a complete blur.

Once she gets over the novelty of the breathing part, the unnerving part of being along for the ride settles in. She hadn’t thought much about mermaid locomotion, but if she had, she doesn’t think she’d have banked on them being able to swim this fast. Not that she has a speedometer, but she’s sat seatbelt-less in the bed of a truck barreling down the freeway plenty of times, and this feels much the same. Only more wet. Needless to say, she grips the harness like her life depends on it — which, really, it does.

She also wishes that that kiss — or whatever it was — from Barnes helped with temperature as well, for while it doesn’t seem like they’re going deeper anymore, she’s fucking cold. Solely the fear of being tracked by an evil organization keeps her from tapping Barnes on the shoulder and asking if they could possibly swim a few dozen meters higher.

She puts up with it, knowing the alternative is tempting lethal fate. After a while, she nearly manages to fall asleep, such is her adrenaline crash and the steady fluidity of Barnes’s movements. She’s groggy when finally they stop, some sort of partially enclosed outcrop whose features she can just make out in the burgeoning sunrise. Barnes sets her on the rock and triple-checks both the entrance and surroundings.

Unfortunately, she discovers, the end feels much like the beginning, complete with the sensation of having no air even though now there is plenty of it. Is it possible to suffocate when there’s air to be had? Did Barnes merely delay her death sentence?

Apparently hearing her distress, he approaches with mild concern in his expression amongst the usual cagey neutrality, but his voice is calm as he instructs, “Force it. The air, you have to force it.”

The thought feels impossible. “I — can’t —”

“You can.” He places his hands lightly on her shoulders. “Breathe, Sarah.”

It’s the first time he’s said her name, she realizes, which all by itself is nearly enough to startle her out of her predicament. The touching takes care of the rest; up until now, their only contact has been of necessity, not comfort or even friendliness.

It’s a shaky breath that she draws into her lungs but a breath nonetheless, and once she’s done it, she gulps down as much as she possibly can. The pain in her chest slowly dissipates.

“Are you okay?” Barnes asks.

“Yeah I — I think so. Did you know it was that awful to come out of it?”

“No. I’ve never been around for that part.”

Now that she no longer is suffocating and they’re out of imminent danger, she wonders about the mechanics of the whole thing. “How’d you do it?”

“Something to do with the regenerative properties of the serum, it slows hypoxia. That’s what I was told, anyway.”

“Then why did it feel like I couldn’t breathe?”

“Because,” he says, “if you hold it too long, your body wants to keep the air it has left. It doesn’t realize it doesn’t have to until you force it.”

“That was too long?” she asks. “How long did we swim?”

“Bit over two hours, I think.”

“Two —”

He’d told her he could dive for an hour and a half, two hours maybe. And while with his enhanced strength she must not weigh much, she still weighs something. She takes stock of him, seeing only now that he looks exhausted, his own breath coming in heavier than normal. Never mind the exertion from fighting the combatants and what looks like a nasty gash over his eye dripping blood down the side of his face. He doesn’t appear bothered by it, but she’s been around him enough by this point to know he’s not the kind of person to admit to injury. Who knows what else he might’ve sustained?

Ultimately, she supposes the specifics of it all don’t matter and, frankly, she doesn’t have the patience for any more of a science lesson at the moment. Barnes himself may not even know the full scope. Really, she should celebrate the fact that he’s spoken more to her in the last two minutes than he has the last few days combined.

“So, how’d you figure it out, this breath-sharing thing?” she asks instead. “Got a history of saving damsels in distress, do you?”

She’d meant it as a joke, but a shadow passes over Barnes’s face. “No.”

“Then how —”

“Let me see where you were hit,” he interrupts. “You’re bleeding pretty badly.”

She looks down to see a wide bloom of red is indeed staining her shirt. The pain has become more of a throbbing nuisance than the acute sharpness it was before, though she’s not sure whether that’s a good or bad thing.

Sarah lifts up the hem of her shirt, and immediately wishes she hadn’t. It looks much worse than she thought it would. It still counts as a graze, she’d say, in the grand scheme of things, but an inch further and she’d have a hole straight through her abdomen.

“Seawater is healing,” she says with feeble confidence. It is, but she’s fairly certain this is too big of a wound for that to apply to.

“Stay here,” Barnes directs. “I’ll be back soon.”

He’s gone before she can ask where he’s going, disappearing under the water as quietly as always. She lets out a sigh. One of these days she’s going to make him give her an explanation before darting off.

[sarifinasnightmare]

Chapters: 3/5 Fandom: The Falcon and the Winter Soldier (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies) Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Sarah Wilson, Helmut Zemo & Original Female Character(s), Peggy Carter/Steve Rogers Characters: James "Bucky" Barnes, Sarah Wilson (Marvel), Steve Rogers, Helmut Zemo, Sam Wilson (Marvel), Original Female Character(s), Rebecca Barnes Proctor, Alpine the Cat (Marvel) Additional Tags: Romance, Young Love, Christmas Fluff, Romantic Fluff, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - College/University, Not Canon Compliant, Awesome Sarah Wilson (Marvel), Bucky Barnes's Metal Arm, Alternate Universe - Roommates/Housemates, Gift Exchange, christmas writing prompt, Fleur De Louve 2022, Protective Steve Rogers, Eventual Smut Summary:

Sarah is studying abroad in Romania and hopes to have a nice Christmas even though she is far from home. Her new co-worker at the coffee shop, James, immediately has eyes for her and after their first contact she can't help but look back.

Your Prompt/Assignment: "Help me with these lights?" / Coffee Shop AU or College AU

[jbarneswilson]

I posted 3,488 times in 2022

That's 2,015 more posts than 2021!

418 posts created (12%)

3,070 posts reblogged (88%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@jemgirl86

@strangeprincex

@bisexualspace

@ponderation

@glittercake

I tagged 2,008 of my posts in 2022

Only 42% of my posts had no tags

#sam wilson - 253 posts

#and that’s my queue - 245 posts

#bucky barnes - 213 posts

#sarah wilson - 141 posts

#tfatws - 128 posts

#sarahbucky - 119 posts

#captain america - 117 posts

#i want to go to there - 89 posts

#buckysarah - 70 posts

#steve rogers - 69 posts

Longest Tag: 95 characters

#in the battle of time in the battle of will it’s only your hope and your heart that gets killed

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

randomly thinking, like ya do, about how some fans persist in alleging that bucky only said sarah’s name like that because of steve’s mom having the same name and…

here’s the thing:

that only makes sense if bucky wanted to fuck the living daylights out of sarah rogers, okay?

and now my brain is like “… amanda… what if you… what if you did a bad thing, amanda? what if you wrote a fic about bucky thirsting after sarah rogers?”

70 notes - Posted January 18, 2022

#4

i hope wherever anthony mackie is that he’s having a good day and that no one asks him about chris fucking evans or sebastian stan for five fucking minutes

74 notes - Posted September 11, 2022

#3

bucky: oatmeal raisin is the worst cookie. they are a crime against tastebuds everywhere. who the fuck came up with them.

sarah: oatmeal raisin is my favorite

bucky: i, too, love oatmeal raisin. it is, in fact, the superior cookie and anyone who dislikes it should be in jail.

93 notes - Posted January 6, 2022

#2

picture id: first time ever, german men’s national team wore the women’s national team shirt (with 2 stars) as a show of support to gain attention for the women’s euros which start next month. football needs more of this empathy and solidarity to grow the game 🇩🇪👏🏾👏🏾👏🏾🏆

95 notes - Posted June 7, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

cannot believe that i had to get myself out of bed on international womens day. where is the fleet of men to carry me around all day and wait on me hand and foot wtf

689 notes - Posted March 8, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[blackstarising]

james buchanan "i don't know how to do this" barnes taking the boys to the barber shop for the first time while sarah's doing deliveries

james buchanan "i don't know how to do this" barnes falling asleep on the couch and aj commissioning him at 2:37 in the morning him to 'go all winter soldier' on the monster hiding in his dresser drawer

james buchanan "i don't know how to do this" barnes spending the last few minutes before his and sam's flight from thailand to get the boys candy, as promised

james buchanan "i don't know how to do this" barnes nagging the boys to wear their sunscreen because black people get skin cancer too, you hear me-

james buchanan "i don't know how to do this" barnes carrying cass, who's about as tall as him at 15, off to bed after he falls asleep doing his homework

james buchanan "i don't know how to do this" barnes swallowing back tears the first time aj cries my stepdad's here! when he picks him up from school

james buchanan "i don't know how to do this" barnes folding the boys in his arms after coming home from a particularly hard mission, breathing in the scent of their cocoa butter lotion and pomade and axe body spray, and pressing a kiss to each of their foreheads

[justsomeoneunordinary]

Cool Beans

Week One of the SarahBucky month @fleurdelouvemonth/@fleurdelouve

Day two: Coffee Shop AU: Hot Apple Cider

Yeah, I didn’t plan to write a ficlet for this prompt either. I really only wanted to post the board and that’s it. But somehow I ended up barfing all these words out at 4am when I was supposed to be asleep? So here it is anyway.

(W1,D1 / W2,D1 / W2,D3 / W2,D4 / W2,D5 / W3,D2 / W3,D4 / W4,D3 / W4,D5 / W5,D1 / W5,D2 / W5,D4)

T, 951 words, Coffee Shop AU, Meet-Cute, Awkward Flirting | AO3

Look, Sarah knows this is ridiculous. She just drove past three different coffee shops before she finally reached “Cool Beans”, and she can’t even claim she went all this way for the coffee. She doesn’t even like coffee. And if she did, she has a perfectly functioning coffee machine at home. So, there’s not necessarily a good explanation to why she just drove almost an hour to this particular establishment.

Except for her curiosity.

See, there’s a barista working at “Cool Beans”, going by the name of Bucky, a friend of Sam’s friend Steve and somewhat Sam’s friend as well—apparently a veteran too. None of that is actually relevant though, the point is, Sam keeps describing him as “an absolute pain in my ass”.

Sam hasn’t described anyone as a pain in his ass besides her ever since she realized as a fourteen-year-old that obnoxious behavior is the best way to keep overprotective brothers at bay. This title belongs to her, and her only. Well, until now.

Naturally, she got curious about this Bucky person. If he managed to outdo her in annoying Sam, that means she has to step up her game. It’s in her job description as a sister, after all.

Yes, she’s aware how ridiculous this is. Yes, she’s doing it anyway.

Soft jazz music welcomes her as she enters the café, accompanied by the quiet murmur of the few costumers. While looking around, she has to agree with Sam inwardly; this is a bit of a hipster joint. But still nice. Relaxed.

She doesn’t plan to stay though. She’s just going to get herself a drink—maybe a hot apple cider, there’s nothing better but something hot and sweet on a chill day like today—take a look at the Bucky guy, and then leave again and never come back.

But then her eyes land on the barista and her plans change slightly.

A glance at the name tag tells her that this is Bucky, which he can impossibly be. For one, he doesn’t even have a man-bun like the annoying hipster he’s supposed to be. For another, he’s… well. He’s really hot. That’s definitely something Sam failed to mention.

“Hi!” Bucky greets her with none of the grumpiness Sam complained about, and instead with all the chirpiness someone in his line of work is forced to show. “Welcome to Cool Beans! What can I do for you?”

Take me out on a date, she thinks as she looks for a second too long at his defined arm muscles. He looks like he could easily hold her against a wall for hours and devour her. And that’s maybe not a thought she should continue in public.

She feels blood rushing to her face and quickly averts her eyes, pushing the images in her mind away, thus trying to stop the blush. God, she hasn’t felt that flustered in years. Since her husband’s death, to be precise.

“A hot apple cider,” she says with an inconspicuous smile on her lips, trying not to show the thought train she rode on just a few seconds ago.

Bucky winks at her. “Something sweet for something sweet, got it.” And then cringes instantly after the last word is spoken.

Sarah can’t help herself but laugh at his silliness. “That was terrible.”

“Yeah, I noticed that too,” Bucky sighs defeated. It’s admittedly kind of charming.

She still grins widely as her laughter ebbs, and offers, “Let’s start over, shall we? Hi Bucky, I’m Sarah.”

The bright smile she gets in turn is almost blinding. “Hey Sarah, I’m Bucky.” Then, his smile turns to a frown when he adds, “Which you know because you said my name already. Because I am wearing a name tag. So I didn’t have to repeat my name again and make myself a fool. Yeah. You know what? I think I’ll just,” he gestures at the machines while he clumsily walks backwards, “make the apple cider you ordered. Yeah? Great!” And with that he turns away, a touch of pink on his cheeks visible.

Sarah bites hard on her lip to not start laughing again. Poor guy already looks like he’s going to burn up in flames—she doesn’t want to add to his mortification. What she wants to do though, is check that backside out. So, she does. Leaning subtly over the counter, risking a little glance and—yup. That backside definitely checks out.

When Bucky comes back handing her the hot apple cider, smiling shyly, Sarah feels warmth rise in her body deep from within. She’s pretty sure it has nothing to do with the drink either. “There you go. Hope I will have the pleasure to meet you again?” There’s a spark of... something in his eyes as he asks.

Sarah is pretty sure she’s not just misinterpreting his friendliness as flirting, so she says with a cheeky wink, “I might be inclined to come by for another drink… And maybe more.”

The smile he sends her at that could lighten the entire building. “Cool beans,” he says in lieu of a goodbye—and promptly thumps his head against one of the coffee machines.

This time Sarah does laugh. Loudly so. She hears a quiet “‘Cool beans?’ What the fuck, Barnes?” before the doors fall shut behind her, the soft jazz music exchanged with the loud street noise instead.

The laughter still lingers as she takes her first sip of the sweet and welcoming hot drink. Considering the weather in these upcoming days, she’ll definitely have to get herself another one tomorrow. And the day after that. And maybe even the day after that too. She’s got a good reason to drive up here now, after all.

[pxresoxl]

For @fleurdelouve and @fleurdelouvemonth

SarahBuckyMonth2021 - Moodboard

Week 3 - Trope Town, part 1

Day 1 - Fake dating/Fake Married

(Tried fitting in the theme 😅 sorta turned out to be more of an actual wedding)

[Filter credits - @honey.polarr on Polarr]

[fleurdelouvemonth]

2023 Fleur de Louve (SarahBucky) Ship Month Prompts

This is collaboration with the original announcement post.

Below you'll find a transcript of all the prompts for this year's ship month event! (For those who couldn't see it on the original image.) It's a mix of dialogue, subject, AU, and seasonal prompts. We tried to be versatile this year, so we hope you like them.

Don't be shy! Late comers are welcome, and late submissions are welcome as well. None of these have to be completed in order the day of/day before.

All that we ask is, if you like this ship and want to see more, then join us in the fun! No submission will be turned away.

Week 1: Food Prompts (Nov. 1 to 5)

Halloween Candy

Sweet Potato Pie

Pumpkin

Chai tea

Soup

Week 2: Dialogue Prompts (Nov. 6 to 12)

"There's no place like home."

"I think it looks nice."

"Tell me a story." "I don't know any stories."

"You've got leaves in your hair."

"I love you, but you have the worse poker face I've ever seen."

"Do that again."

"Would you like to dance?"

Week 3: AU Prompts (Nov. 13 to 19)

Celebrity/Bodyguard AU

Coffee Shop/Bakery AU

College Professors AU

Space AU

Tattoo Parlor/Flower Shop AU

Med School/Doctors AU

Mermaid/Pirates AU

Week 4: Seasonal Prompts (Nov. 20 to 26)

Falling leaves

Chilly mornings

Apple picking

Football game

Gratitude

Sweaters

Family dinner

Week 5: Tropes Prompts (Nov. 27 to 30)

They were roommates

Friends-to-lovers

Bed sharing

Found family

[tllgrrl]

Sweet Potato Pie by @tllgrrl aka Nefertiri Jones

SarahBucky Fleur De Louve Month 2023 - Week 1, Day 2 Prompt: “Sweet Potato Pie” | SFW

Sarah Wilson/Bucky Barnes, and Special Guest Cameo: Sam Wilson

* * * * * * * * * *

It wasn’t supposed to be like this.

Sarah’s boys were already at the grandparents in Atlanta, and the original plan was that Sam would be in NYC with Misty, the restaurant would be closed until Friday, and Bucky would be home with her for a nice, quiet (maybe not so quiet) Wednesday, then the two of them would make a Thanksgiving Day drive to Atlanta to stay until Sunday, when the boys would come back with them to Delacroix.

That was the plan.

Then came the phone call, and there she was hearing about how some shit had popped off on the other side of the world in a place that she wasn’t privy to know for her own safety, and in the blink of an eye she was on the front porch, kissing Bucky goodbye before dawn…again.

“I’m sorry, nandi,” he said softly, his forehead touching hers.

“I know, baby. It is what it is,” she answered, pulling his dog tags over her head and onto his neck. “Just come back to me in one piece.”

“I will.”

“You better.”

“Save me some Sweet Potato Pie,” he says over his shoulder, walking toward the van.

“Me too!” someone yelled from the passenger seat.

“Ha! I’ll think about it, Cap.”

“You’re the meanest sister ever!”

“No she isn’t.”

“Yes, she is.”

“It’s called Tough Love, Samuel.”

“Just get in the car. You and that Tough Love bullsh—“

“Language!”

“What?!?”

She’s used to it by now. It’s sort of The Other Family Business: Superheroes.

This time, however, when the SUV drove off with her brother and her lover, the second the vehicle made that turn out of the driveway, she sat on the front step, and had a good, angry cry.

After a few minutes, she dried her eyes on her (on Bucky’s) t-shirt, and took a deep breath. “Okay. Enough of that…”

She got up, went into the house, picked up her cellphone, a notepad and pencil, pressed a speed dial number, and started making plans.

Evening, on the Other Side of the World…

Bucky dragged himself into the tiny old hotel room, dropped his backpack on the dresser, closed the curtains, checked the room for bugs...and bugs, then he turned on the old school TV set (complete with rabbit ears) and clicked the old remote until he found a futbol match.

He could still smell the light fragrance of Sarah’s hair conditioner, and feel her body against his when he kissed her goodbye.

“Damn…” he mumbled, reaching deep into his backpack and pulling out a small brown bag of plums.

“Happy Thanksg—“

Someone knocked on the door.

He retrieved one of his fixed blade knives from a compartment in the backpack, and waited.

Another knock, this time in a familiar pattern.

“Yo, Buck?”

Bucky opened the door to find Sam standing there with what looked like a box wrapped in a thermal blanket. There was also a smaller flat box sitting on top of it.

“Hey, come in. What’s all that?”

“It’s a special delivery. This goes with it.”

Sam handed him a six pack of a local beer, and pulled an envelope out of his jacket pocket.

“I got one too. Seems like we weren’t going to be spending the holiday away from…well, go’on open your envelope. I’m heading back to my room for mine.”

“What—?”

“Don’t ask me. Just open this envelope. Have a good evening, Buck.”

“Um…Thanks?”

“You’re welcome, Cyborg Man.”

Bucky heard Sam chuckle as he closed the door.

He moved his laptop to the bed and placed the boxes on the small table in the corner, opened the envelope, and picked up his cellphone, smiling as he dialed the encrypted number on the StarkTech phone.

“Hey, nandi.”

“Hey yourself, mthandi.”

“Can I see you?”

“Of course. Hold on…”

Their screens both go black, then they see each other.

He gently touches her cheek on his screen, and she touches his cheek on hers.

“I miss you.”

“I miss you, too. Wait. Have you…? James. Open the boxes.”

“Boxes? Oh!!”

Bucky unwrapped the large box first and when he opened the seal, steam wafted out, and delicious aromas filled the room.

He couldn’t believe his eyes, or his nose.

It was a whole meal of turkey, dressing, greens, cornbread and slices of his favorite: Sarah’s meatloaf. There was even a separate container of a serving of gumbo.

“Baby…” he chuckled, eyes beginning to brim, “what…what did you—?”

“I figured, since we couldn’t be together like we planned, we could at least…well… shoot, I wasn’t gonna cry…”

Bucky was wiping his eyes as well.

“Sarah…this is just…did Sam get—should I go get—?“

“No. He’s good. Probably on the phone with Misty right about now. The two of us got together. She arranged to have a QuinnJet bring me to New York not long after you left. She knew the team’s prep schedule, so we did our shopping, spent a day cooking, and had the boxes loaded onto the transport before departure.

I asked Torres to make sure neither of you knew about the boxes until you were at your destination. Misty and I made him a combo plate from both of us.”

“I don’t know what to…Thank you, intanda. This is…”

“Close the box, put the heat blanket back on it, get cleaned up and comfy. I’ll wait, so we can have dinner together. Okay?”

Bucky wiped his eyes and picked up the small brown bag, showing her what was inside, “I was gonna have these plums.”

“Have them for breakfast. Your dessert is in the pie box.”

“My dessert is in Delacroix, where I should be right now,” he says in that tone that makes her toes curl in that good way.

“Boy, stop!” she giggles.

He hears Sarah giggle and it makes him want to run all the way back to Louisiana, Secret Empire wannabees and the Atlantic Ocean be damned.

He opened the box and she watched him bite his lip in anticipation. Bites his lip in that way.

She sees him bite his lip and she wants to run to him, Louisiana swamps and the Atlantic Ocean be damned.

“You’re still saving me a slice for when I get home, right?”

“Of course! I brought you over to Team Sweet Potato Pie. No way I’m letting you backslide back to pumpkin! Not as long as we’re—“

“Come’ere, you,” he laughs, walking the phone into the bathroom.

“Where are we going?”

“Getting ready for a quick shower.”

She can see his metal hand and the bathroom ceiling, then the phone tips forward and now she can see him. Most of him. He repositions the phone again and now she can see a goodly amount of him.

He reached into the shower, turned on the tap, then faced the camera, took off his shirt, and started unbuttoning his jeans.

“Want to tell me what you’re doing, mthandi?” Sarah said, before draining her entire glass of sweet tea because The Thirst was real.

“Taking a shower so I can get ready for dinner with my intanda,” he smiled. “Care to join me?”

“Are you taking your phone into the—“

“Sure am. What! It’s waterproof.”

* * * * * * * * * *

@fleurdelouvemonth 2023 - Week 1: “Food” - Day 2: “Sweet Potato Pie”

Also posted on The AO3.

Thanks for reading!

[fleurdelouve]

Since we had about 83% people vote that they wanted another annual event, and about 16% people said they did not, this question of the week goes out to those who DO want to have and participate in an annual event:

For 2023 what would you like this year's event to be focused on?

2021 was prompt-focused on mostly seasonal and holiday-based prompts

2022 was a gift exchange (which didn't go well, unfortunately)

Another prompt based event, or not? Do you want to do something new, such as a bingo? Also, share the topics you would like to work with! 💛

[spinachgarden]

Fleur de Louve Month Week 2 Day 2: Angst

Prompt: Rainy Night - Old Promise, 490 words

It’s pouring rain, coming down fast and hard, soaking through her sweater and into her skin, cold and miserable, but she can’t bring herself to go inside to get her jacket. He’ll be home any moment now, she tells herself. The mission was supposed to be three days, and this is the fourth - one extra day is nothing to worry over, and anyway, he’ll be home tonight. Any moment now, his car will pull up in the driveway and he’ll step out, maybe with a couple of fresh bruises but otherwise alright. He’ll hug her tight, kiss her, then go say hi to the boys. After, she’ll look him over, make sure that his injuries have been seen to, heat some leftovers for him and help him into the shower, and then they’ll fall into bed together and he’ll remind her, over and over again, that he’s safe and that he’s here.

That’s how it always goes, so tonight will be no different. He’s one day late, not a big deal, and he’ll be home any minute now.

Sarah shivers as the wind whips across her soaked face, raising goosebumps on her arms and neck. It must be past midnight at this point, so dark outside that her flickering porch light doesn’t let her see past the front lawn, and she wishes now that she’d thought to put better shoes on than just her slippers.

He’s never not called before, is the thing. If he’s running late, if a mission goes long, he always lets her know. Someone does, at least - sometimes Torres or Sam call her if Bucky can’t, but as long as she knows he’s safe, she’s alright with that. This time, she didn’t get a call.

What if-

No. She’s not going to start thinking like that yet. The rain starts coming down harder, if that’s even possible, and Sarah wraps her arms around herself in a pitiful attempt to conserve body heat. Another round of shivers wracks her body but she forces herself to endure them, to keep her eyes on the driveway.

He will come home to her. He always comes home to her. He promised he would, when she told him she couldn’t lose another husband. He promised.

Slowly, she sinks onto the porch step. The wet wood soaks through the seat of her jeans, but she’s so cold now that it doesn’t really make a difference.

“You promised,” she tells the night sky. “You promised you’d always come home to me. So come home, damnit.”

In her pocket, her phone starts ringing. Sarah’s heart leaps into her throat and she smiles -

At least if she knows he’s alright, that’s enough for her.

“Bucky?” she says breathlessly without checking the caller ID.

“Sarah,” it’s Sam’s voice, not Bucky’s, but maybe he just doesn’t have time to call right now.

Maybe the catch in Sam’s throat is something else.

“It’s Bucky,” Sam says. “He’s-”

[princessmisery666]

June 2021 - Fic Recs Master List

Please heed all the warnings on the individual fics. I am not responsible for what you choose read. 

I was in a bit of a Dean Winchester hole this month! 

📚Dean Winchester 

Roots - @percywinchester27 - a sweet and fluffy drabble

Dean Lives Forever - @idreamofplaid - Jensen is having a hard time with Supernatural being over. The reader has an idea to help him deal with his feelings.

Screwing With The Evidence - @flamencodiva - Sam and Y/N face Dean after a one-night encounter.

Bad Days - @peridottea91 - Sam and Dean return from a hunt gone wrong. Sometimes it’s okay to let someone see you hurt.

Not A Dry Pair - @deanwinchesterswitch​ - A fun little glossed-over glimpse into the life of a ‘groupie’.

Cold As Ice - @waywardbaby​ - He has the wrong idea about her. Will he get the chance to change his mind?

Hot As Fire - @waywardbaby​ - What he told her he thought of her wasn’t entirely true. Will she cave?

The Chesterfield House - @idreamofplaid - Working a case together as “newlyweds” leads Dean to see the reader in a whole new light.

Moves - @waywardbaby - It’s basically Reader’s POV on all the things that make this man special and more specifically how his moves affect her

Together We Are The Storm - @deanwinchesterswitch - Angry with the way the brothers have been treating her, the reader decides to take matters into her own hands and fight through the storm that is Dean Winchester.

📚Jensen Ackles

Welcome Home - @there-must-be-a-lock - Got an anonymous request for a praise kink drabble! Here’s some soft dom Jensen and reunion sex. The (drool-worthy) panties mentioned can be seen here.

📚Sam Winchester

Not Exactly Apple Pie - @idreamofplaid - Sam gave up the love of his life to go hell and save the world, but he never got over her.

Save Me - @girl-next-door-writes - gif drabble - Sam saves the reader from a monster. 

The Meadow - @winchest09 - Can you write about Sam taking the reader to a meadow for a sunset picnic?!

Cry No More series link to pt.1 - @fangirlxwritesx67 - The rest of Sam Winchester’s life, stories of what happened between the moments and years the show gave us in the finale.

The Three Times You Met Sam Winchester - @jamielea81 - clues in the title 😜

Alone In The Bunker - @fangirlxwritesx67 - Prompt: First Kiss.

📚Steve Rogers

U + Ur Hand - @cockslut-padalecki - All alone one night, Steve’s thoughts wander.

The Dumb Bet - @deaan - it’s Sam’s bachelor party and Bucky has a bet with him regarding you that ultimately gets you and Steve together.

Two Can Play This Game - @jurassicbarnes - Sunshine Steve Rogers is the type to blush when you sit in his lap on a group movie night only to finger f**k you as soon as the light dim.  

📚Chris Evans

Happy Birthday & Alternate Ending - @jamielea81 - Ouch😢 Chris revaluates his life on his birthday. 

Gone - @jamielea81 - sequel to Happy Birthday (the angsty ending)

Sunglasses - @jamielea81 -  just some cute Sunday morning fluff.

The Bet - @jamielea81 - It all started with a $20 bet with Scott Evans.

📚Clark Kent 

The Nearness of You - @girl-next-door-writes - A heartbroken Clark celebrates his mother’s birthday and finds that sometimes the sweetest moments are the unexpected ones.

📚Bucky Barnes

Welcome Back - @firefly-in-darkness - You welcome back your favourite supersoldier.

Forever - @samwilsons-pillowpecs - A BuckySarah short story

Creams and Comfort - @deaan - You wake up in the middle of the night to a loud noise to find Bucky standing in front of the bathroom mirror, hating the marks on his body

Proof Of Heart - @suitofvibraniumarmor - Maverick and Pepper meet for both business and personal reasons; Dr. Raynor informs Bucky of a new condition to his pardon.

Acapulco - @negans-lucille-tblr - Y/N can think of worse places than Acapulco to be undercover. And she can think of worse people than Sam Wilson to be her fake boyfriend. Even if her friend with benefits is a little jealous watching from the sidelines.

📚Sam Wilson 

Seen - @pinknerdpanda​ - Even when only a flicker of the woman you once were remains, Sam sees you.

Bringing The Cheer - @amanda-teaches - When you’re feeling sad, your best friend, Sam, has just the plan to cheer you up. What over the top gesture does he have planned for you this time?

Last Light - @firefly-in-darkness - Will you survive without Sam?

📚Sirius Black

Imagine being best friends with Sirius Black - @deaan - bffs to lovers that’s what. 

📚Andy Barber

Put You In Your Place - @cockslut-padalecki - Andy is sick of his stepdaughter continuously stepping out of line, and when he catches her spiking the punch at Jacob’s sixteenth birthday party, he’s had enough. It’s time he teaches her a lesson.

[blackstarising]

precipice, a buckysarah fic | also on ao3

bucky and sarah spend saturday mornings together on the wilson's back porch. neither remembers when this became a habit.

She’s awake for a few moments before she hears it, the creaking, through the open window. It’s not loud, of course, it’s never loud, Daddy had dutifully oiled the swing’s joints to make sure that wouldn’t happen, but age had touched it just enough that, nowadays, you’d know if someone was sitting there.

Sarah sits up, and rubs the sleep from her eyes. The thick, summer air fills her lungs, the same that coats her forehead in a sheen of sweat. Lingering tension from melts from her shoulders. Unconsciously, she brushes the dog tags nestled inside of her shirt.

He’s okay. Thank God.

A familiar electric buzz runs up the back of her spine as she pads past the boys’ rooms and tiptoes down the stairs. Months ago, that buzz would have prompted her toss her bonnet onto her bed, to swiftly change into jeans and a somewhat presentable T-shirt, even though Saturday mornings before 8 were, by law, designated as Sarah Time.

And then, three weeks ago, the last time she’d seen him in person, she’d raced down the stairs to get AJ’s stuffed toy (some Minecraft thing? Sarah could never keep track) that he’d accidentally left outside before he woke up, cheesy printed pajamas and all. He hadn’t flinched.

He could fit into Sarah Time, she’d decided, right then and there. Lizzo’s “Cuz I Love You” was left on repeat on her phone for her the rest of the day.

So she slips downstairs, ‘Bad Mama Jama’ shirt and all. Coffee steeps. Two mugs are produced, lactose-free milk dumped into each, and a sizable glop of honey into hers.

After all this time, his breath still catches a little when he sees her come out the back door. The humidity that sticks to Bucky’s skin like a stifling coat makes her skin shimmer in the faint sunlight. She yawns, her nose wrinkling just enough that it’s painfully cute, and then she relaxes, still sleepy but serene as she presses the hot mug into his right hand.

“Hey.” He greets her.

“Hey.” Her smile grows. “You’re back.”

“I am. With cinnamon rolls.” Sure enough, a paper bag rests next to the swing. He pats his left side, and she obliges. Their thighs touch plainly this time.

She takes a slow sip of her coffee. “Hope you haven’t been sitting here all night. Where’s Sam?”

“About an hour, and still in DC. Captain America business, and all that.”

“And what? No Winter Soldier business?”

Bucky shrugs. “I like the quiet.” Her quiet. Or maybe just her and the boys, though the boys weren’t that quiet. And ‘like’ was too weak a word at this point, probably.

She takes another sip of coffee, strangely proud. He does too, if only to silence the annoyingly insistent voice in the back of his head nagging him to just put his arm around her shoulder already.

“Still not sure about this fancy milk, though.”

“You mean milk that me and the kids can actually digest?” Sarah knows damn well he can’t taste the difference. “Well, I have bad news for you about oat milk. And soy milk." She grins wickedly. "And don't forget rice milk-”

“None of which belong in coffee.” After nearly a century of identities and missions she’s not sure if she ever wants to hear about, his Brooklyn accent is faint, but he still stretches out the caw in ‘coffee’. How mortifying it is, the way she perks up when that grit bleeds out.

He brushes the bright blue hem of her bonnet. “Is this new?”

She shakes her head and pulls it off. Dark braids tumble down her shoulders. These ones are new, he notices - they’re tighter at the root, and shimmer with oil that smells of roses. “Found out AJ stuffed it in the couch cushions a month ago. I just happened to stick my hand down there yesterday. I do not know what it is about him and that damn couch.” She snickers. “Maybe I’ll get lucky and find a signed check for a million dollars down there one day.”

He chuckles, and gives the ground a little kick the start the swing going again. “Did he get his new glasses yet? Last time I was here, he was saying that he didn’t want to see the optometrist again.”

“Yeah, he doesn’t like the...” Sarah makes a motion with a finger, like she’s pressing a button. “There’s a little gun they use. They blow a puff of air onto your eyeball.”

Bucky recoils a little. “They what?”

“It’s supposed to measure it for the prescription. They tried to do it on me before they did his. I thought it was supposed to be just like a little breeze, but it bounces off your eye.” She pauses and scratches her head. “I may have hollered-”

“Ha! I bet he took that well.”

“I had to get him on my lap to calm down.” She sighs and pouts, just a little. “At least he still wants to be held. Cass makes me drop him off a block away from school now.”

Cass is indeed growing. Overnight, he’s shot up like a reed so that he’s just as high as Bucky’s shoulders. His normally smooth skin is interrupted by a few bumps, and his voice bounces around in pitch like an untuned clarinet. Something in his chest twinges when he considers it, how time marches forward. How, very soon, the collective wide-eyed innocence of the boys will harden into adulthood.

Her gaze falls to his left hand. The fingers curl and flex. She still remembers the first time she’d looked at his arm, really looked at it, the dark plates molding and shifting. It’d been the second time they’d shared this same porch, waiting for Sam to bring back the boys from fishing.

I don’t want you to get the wrong idea, Sarah, he’d said suddenly, catching her gaze. His voice had been heavy, but clear. Dark blue eyes filled with regret. I’ve hurt people. Killed people. I didn’t have a choice, but, with you and- here, she’d held her breath as his Adam’s apple bobbed, how quickly he’d blinked - and the boys, I...I don’t want- I need you to know all of me. Who I’ve been. Who I am. And then you can decide. But you can’t do that if I’m not honest.

She doesn’t remember what she’d said after. She does remember watching him get into the truck so Sam could take him to the airport. How he’d paused when he’d opened the door, and turned towards her, eyes wide. Vulnerable. How she’d smiled at him, and waved, maybe a bit too cheesily, like it’d been the easiest thing in the world, because despite it all, oddly, she hadn’t been afraid. How the widest grin had broken out on his face and something deep inside her chest that had been closed had burst open for the first time since she’d lost Andrew. And she remembers watching the truck pull out of the drive as her heart filled to such a capacity that her chest hurt, and the second they’d disappeared over the hill she’d promptly burst into tears, well, really, half laughing and half sobbing, because how the hell was she supposed to know she could find that feeling again?

It’s only when she sees his jaw clench that she finally notices the cut, long and fading pink against his chiseled cheekbones. Maybe she’s getting too used to them - he’s always injured in some way when he gets back.

He can see that familiar softening in her eyes as she catches sight of the gash. Well, it had been a gash just an hour before, the result of catching a thrown knife on his cheek before he’d caught the hilt. But what’s about to happen next will play like clockwork.

First, she’s going to try to get a closer look. Her index and pointer finger come up just under his chin, tilting his head to the side. His skin tingles, the electricity of her concern rushing through him.

Then, she’ll hum. She’s never chastised him, though he wouldn’t know what there’d be to say if she tried. But that hum says more than enough.

“Hmm.”

In the moment, she doesn’t feel herself cupping his face with both hands, it just sort of happens. Her throat dries instantly as the stubble brushes in her palms.

He can’t breathe, but every single muscle in his body relaxes. He sinks into her touch.

“Y- you should see the other guy,” he manages to get out. There’s a faint memory that breaks to the surface, the docks in New York, 1940-something, 1943? A date whose name has been lost to time, the last date he’d ever go on. Soft hands cupping his face, just like this, and warm, pleading ruby-red lips crashing dully into his, a whisper to not forget her.

Sarah’s tongue darts between her lips. Both thumbs rub small circles into his cheeks. It wasn’t a question of if he wanted to kiss her, no. When has a day gone by that he hasn’t thought of kissing her? How is it that it’s never happened, but he can see it, clear as crystal, and hold it in his mind’s eye. How can he already feel her warm and flush and present and breathless and real against him?

Very slowly, she comes back to herself, and her face immediately flushes with a sharper heat. Her hands awkwardly drop from his face. She tries to think of something, anything, to interrupt the silence (to explain herself?), but every word that comes to mind sticks helplessly in her throat and she just can’t stand it because she’s the same, she’s exactly the same as she’d been at 17, leg jiggling and sweating and staring a hole right through the back of Andrew’s head in AP Calculus.

(She’d never wanted to punch Sam so bad back then when he’d had the audacity to say well, just tell him, already. The audacity of him, to think things were so simple.)

She leans back, scooting just a hair away this time. The crest of the sun beams through the trees, painfully bright. Her pulse is louder now. She’s looking at the small grove so intently she doesn’t even register the weight gently settle on her left shoulder at first. It only clicks when she feels the cool metal of his thumb brush up and down her bicep. Their eyes lock, brown against against blue.

He’s still smiling, and she, she realizes, is too.

So she melts into him. She melts into him, her ear landing over his chest, her arm wrapping around the small of his back. She sighs into the muted whoosh whoosh whoosh of his heartbeat, the cotton of his shirt, and the faint smell of spearmint on his breath. Another kick of her foot and they’re swinging yet again, back and forth, back and forth. The sun pulls itself up ever higher and higher.

The light starts to burn his cheek. “The boys’ll be up soon,” he murmurs into her hair.

She snuggles deeper into him. “Mmm.”

They’re on the precipice of something, this, they both know. They're inching closer and closer, and one day they’ll step off, and she’ll kiss him full on the mouth and whenever he’ll come back to the house he’ll be coming back home and whenever they go anywhere they’ll stick each others hand in their back pockets in that particular way that teenagers do that let everyone know that they’re each others and there’s nothing they can do about it.

One day. But for now, this is more than enough.

They like the quiet.

[fleurdelouvemonth]

𝑭𝒍𝒆𝒖𝒓 𝒅𝒆 𝑳𝒐𝒖𝒗𝒆 (𝑺𝒂𝒓𝒂𝒉𝑩𝒖𝒄𝒌𝒚) 𝑴𝒐𝒏𝒕𝒉 2023 — 𝑾𝒆𝒆𝒌 𝑶𝒏𝒆 𝑴𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕

Weekly Masterlists are compiled to include all entries which will be posted every Sunday until December 5th. These lists can be updated in time.

𝑾𝑬𝑬𝑲 𝑶𝑵𝑬: 𝑭𝒐𝒐𝒅 𝑷𝒓𝒐𝒎𝒑𝒕𝒔

Day one: Halloween Candy

𝑭𝒂𝒏 𝑨𝒓𝒕

Moodboard and ficlet by @idontgettechnology

𝑭𝒂𝒏𝒇𝒊𝒄𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏

A Taste So Sweet (AO3 link + art) by @gghalcyon

The Candy Hunt (AO3 link) by @endlesstwanted

Day two: Sweet Potato Pie

𝑭𝒂𝒏 𝑨𝒓𝒕

Moodboard and ficlet by @idontgettechnology  ​ : Polaroids

Moodboard by @tllgrrl / NefertiriJones

𝑭𝒂𝒏𝒇𝒊𝒄𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏

Sweet Potato Pie by @tllgrrl / NefertiriJones 

The Sweetest Risk (AO3 link + art) by @gghalcyon

Day three: Pumpkin

𝑭𝒂𝒏 𝑨𝒓𝒕

Moodboard and ficlet by @idontgettechnology​ :  The Great Pumpkin

𝑭𝒂𝒏𝒇𝒊𝒄𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏

"I love spending time with you, rain or shine." by @gghalcyon

Day four: Chai Tea

𝑭𝒂𝒏 𝑨𝒓𝒕

Moodboard and ficlet (with bonus coffee shop au) by @idontgettechnology

𝑭𝒂𝒏𝒇𝒊𝒄𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏

"I love spending time with you, rain or shine." by @gghalcyon

Day five: Soup

𝑭𝒂𝒏 𝑨𝒓𝒕

Moodboard and ficlet by @idontgettechnology

dividers by @firefly-graphics