#fluffbruary day ten

[fanfictasia]

Fluffbruary Day 10

Moment/Strong/Neck 

Spoiler: This is an excerpt from Nearsight Shadow

She glances up at Anakin, leaning closer, lightly resting her head on his shoulder. He’s always been… warmer than normal humans, but she leans into it anyway. Never did she realize how much she missed him.

“It feels like yesterday when you were still my padawan,” Anakin murmurs, pulling her close. “We all missed you.” He’s always so… strong. It’s strange to see him emotional, even if Ahsoka knows full well he is, much more so than most people she knows.

She wraps her arms around him, pressing closer, eyes drifting shut. She’s… safe here. This is one place she doesn’t have to worry, even if it won’t last. “I missed you, too.”

She lets herself soak in this warmth, this moment, knowing it won’t last. But still…

“I thought about leaving even after,” Ahsoka continues, “But the one thing I can never regret is that I never left you.”

“And sometimes, I wonder what would have happened if you had,” Anakin replies, “I… know you would have been out there, alone, but at least you wouldn’t have to live like this.” His hand trails down her back, lifting to her lekku. It’s soft, gentle, and she leans closer, right lekku pressed against his neck.

[nicoline1998enilocin]

World's Greatest Dad

PAIRING | Husband!Dad!Chris Evans x Wife!Mom!Fem!Reader

WORD COUNT | 1.1K

SUMMARY | With Chris being away for filming during long periods, parenting can be complicated by yourself. Luckily, your daily FaceTime calls help you through it all, though it is always most exciting when he finally comes home. This time, you and your twins have prepared a little package to welcome him home after another three months of being away from home, and Chris couldn't have wished for a better welcome home.

RATING | General (G)

WARNINGS/TAGS | RPF, established relationship

A/N | I want to thank @cevansbaby-dove for inspiring this absolute fluff bomb of a fic, as it was a very cute one to write! 🥰 It's been a while since I have written anything for this adorable goofball, and I can't wait to get back into the groove of writing more for him again! This is proofread by @ccbsrmsf1, for which I'm very grateful 💜

EVENTS Masterlist | @fluffbruary Fluffbruary '24 | Care package Masterlist | @ultimatechrisbingo | Free space

Banners: Yours truly | Divider: @firefly-graphics | GIF: Source

Main Masterlist | Chris Evans Masterlist

''We miss you, Daddy!" your twins River and Sage say in unison to your laptop screen while talking to Chris as you do the dishes after dinner. He's away to film Avengers: Endgame, and you can't help but outright stare at your husband occasionally. His longer, blonde hair and thick beard suit him, and you can't wait to run your fingers through them.

"I miss you too, Bubba's, but Daddy will be home tomorrow," he tells your daughters, and they let out an excited shriek, not wanting to wait any longer to see him again. And you wouldn't mind being able to cuddle up with your husband, either. After a few more minutes of the three of them catching up, you hear Chris asking for you, and the girls are on their way to their room to play.

"How's my favorite girl doing?" his head leaning on his hand as he looks at you with pure love and adoration, a small smile tugging on the corners of his lips as he listens to what you say. You're lucky to have Chris as your husband and will thank your lucky stars daily.

"I'm doing good; the girls behave like little angels now that you're away. They're very responsible, and they help well around the house," you tell him as you listen to them playing their game in their room. They're now ten years old and growing up way too fast for your liking, but you also wouldn't miss it for the world.

"How excited are they that I'm coming home tomorrow?" Chris asks, and you tell him all about most of the plans you have made with them. The two of them can sleep in your bed tonight, and tomorrow, they'll help prepare dinner as a welcome home gesture. However, you did not tell him you've been busy building a care package for him.

"I miss you, but I'm happy to have my Hubby home again tomorrow; it's getting lonely without you at night. And there's only so much cuddles I can have with Dodger before I miss his Daddy." He lifts his head at the mention of his name, making you giggle.

"I miss you too, Babygirl, but it'll be worth it. After this, I'll be home for a few months," he tells you, and you're already looking forward to it. After another 15 minutes of calling, it's time to go and finish your little care package before taking your daughters and Dodger for a walk and winding down for the night.

You're up bright and early the following day, preparing breakfast for your girls, yourself, and Dodger. This afternoon is when Chris will finally return home after three long months, and you have rarely been this excited to welcome him home.

Seeing that it's a beautiful day outside, you decided to wear a bright pink sundress after laying out matching ones for your daughters. Chris has told you countless times how much he adores it when all his beautiful girls match, and you're looking forward to his reaction. Soon, the girls will be dressed and ready for breakfast, too, and now, all you three can do is wait.

When Chris is only five minutes away, he texts you so that you can expect him at any moment now. Over the years, you have made the tradition with your twins and Dodger to wait on the porch swing to welcome him home, and that's precisely what you do. River is on your left, Sage is on your right, and Dodger is lying patiently by your feet.

Luckily for you, there's no need to wait long because the car that drove Chris home turns the corner in less than a few minutes, and your twins jump from the porch swing while waving and jumping up and down.

"Daddy's home, Mommy! Daddy's home!" they say in unison, and as soon as Chris gets out of the car, he runs towards all of you while kneeling to capture his little girls in the biggest hug they have ever had.

"I'm so happy to be home again with my favorite girls! I missed you so much," he tells them as he gives both of them a big kiss before giving some love to Dodger, all while the driver patiently takes Chris' luggage out of the car's trunk. Dodger wags his tail happily as he accepts all the love from Chris, and then it's finally your turn.

"C'mere Gorgeous," your husband tells you as you wrap your arms around one another, pulling the other person as close as possible. You take your time inhaling his signature scent and let the happiness take over, peppering his face in kisses and saying countless 'I love you's.

After one last big kiss on his lips, it's time to go inside, and that's when Chris notices all three of you are matching today. You have gone all out for him, from the dress and shoes to the hair, and he can't get enough of it. He doesn't get too much time to think about that, though, because as soon as he's inside, he's greeted by the large care package you have made with the twins.

"Welcome home!" River and Sage say in unison as Chris walks into your house, the sunlight brightening the room beautifully.

"Thank you so much, my little monkeys; I'm so happy to be home for the next few months," he tells them as he walks over to what's on the kitchen table.

On the table is a large basket with some of his favorite as well as new books, some items to use in the bathroom like bath bombs and scented shower gels, some items for you and Chris to use in the bedroom such as a new massage oil, and something hidden in a sleek black box, and lastly, a big mug with the text ''World's Greatest Dad" made and decorated by both girls and it's filled with some of his favorite snacks too.

Before he thanks you, he first turns his attention to the girls.

"I may be the world's greatest dad, but I want you two to know you are the world's greatest princesses. Daddy's very lucky to have you two as his beautiful daughters," he says before hugging and kissing them again and sending them off to their room to play.

"Now, I believe it's time to say thank you to my beautiful wife," he says in a deep voice, and you can already feel the goosebumps forming on your neck. You pull him in for a kiss, which he happily reciprocates, pouring into it all the love that you two had to miss out on in the last few months.

"I love you, Babygirl, and thank you for being the best woman and most amazing wife I could ever wish for." With those words, it's time to officially unwrap his care package and settle for the next few months.

Surely, it may suck when he's gone, but the reunion when he's back is always more than worth it. Every. Single. Time.

[oh-nostalgiaa]

Writing Prompt Masterlist, Part Ten

Masterlist of Writing Prompt Masterlists

The Prompts

12 Days of Smutsmas Prompts

30 Top / Dom Prompts

A Collection of Five Times Drabble Prompts

A Few Various Sentence Starter Prompts

A Random Act of Kindness Prompts

Abilities & Super-Powered Themed Prompts

Affectionate Prompts

Affection Sentence Starter Prompts

An Extremely Self-Indulgent Physical Contact / Tickly Prompt Collection

Another Kiss Prompts

Around the World in 80 Prompts

Asking for Permission Prompts

Bed & Sleepy Prompts

Caring for Sick Muses Prompts

Casual NSFW Conversation Sentence Starter Prompts

Christmas AU Prompts

Cuteness Prompts

Different Ways to Hug Someone Prompts

Dirty Talk Prompts

Distracted by the Sexy Starter Prompts

Domestic Bickering Sentence Starter Prompts

Emotional Starter Prompts (Anger)

Even More Stuff Based on Personal Experiences Prompts

Febuwhump 2024 Prompts

Fictional Kiss Things That End Me Prompts

First Meetings Prompts

Fluffbruary 2024 Prompts

Fluffmas List Prompts

Fluffy & Cute Prompts

For a Lover's Reassurance Prompts

Friends with Benefits OTP Prompts

Gentle Touch Prompts

Grumpy x Sunshine Prompts

Heartbreak Prompts

Heroic Intervention Prompts

Holiday AU's for the Christmas Spirit Prompts

I Deserve Better Than This Prompts

I Love You But I Can't Say Those Words Prompts

I Miss You Dialogue Response Prompts

I Really Want to Kiss You Right Now Prompts

I'm Sorry Starter Prompts

Idiots to Lovers Romantic Starter Prompts

It's So Fluffy! Sentence Starter Prompts

January OTP Prompts

Just Like a Pillow Prompts

Kisses Prompts

Levels of Intimacy Prompts

List of AU's That Aren't Themed At All Prompts

Lyrics for Unconventional Ship Dynamics Prompts

Marriage Proposal Starter Prompts, Part One

Marriage Proposal Starter Prompts, Part Two

Miscellaneous Action Meme Prompts

Missing Them Sentence Starter Prompts

More Touch Starved Prompts

Non-sexual Acts of Affection Prompts

Non-Verbal NSFW Prompts, Part One

NSFW Muse Reaction Prompts

NSFW Sentence Starter Prompts

Oddly Specific Sensual Touches Prompts

Only One Bed Prompts

Pinned Against a Wall Prompts

Powerful Prompts

Prompt List, Fluff Edition

Prompts for Fake Dating & Going Undercover

Prompts That Hit in All the Right Places

Question Sentence Starter Prompts

Random Sentence Starter Prompts

Random Settings Prompts

Reassurance Starter Prompts

Sacred Romantic Moments Prompts

Sacrifices Sentence Starter Prompts

Setting Prompts

Sexual Sounds, Words, & Actions Prompts

Sexual Tension / Attraction Prompts

Smut NSFW Starter Prompts

Smut Oneliner Prompts

Smut Starters & Symbols Prompts

Smutty One-Liners Part VI Prompts

Soft Action Prompts

Soft Fic Prompts

Soulmate & Significant Connection AU Prompts

Spots to Kiss Prompts

Starters for Quiet Muses Prompts

Stoic x Cheerful First Kiss Prompts

Sweet and Intimate Actions Which Make Me Go Feral and Have Me Folding Like a Folding Chair Prompts

The Enormity of My Desire Prompts

The Five Senses Starter Prompts

The Intimacy of Hands Prompts

The Sweet, Early Morning Things Prompts

Things You Said Prompts

Touch Starved Prompts

Touching Tenderly Prompts

Undercover Sentence Starter Prompts

Underrated Affectionate Gestures Prompts

Unspoken Fluff Starter Prompts, Part 2

Violent Starter Prompts

What We Almost Had Starter Prompts

Wisdom Teeth Removal AU Prompts

Would You ... ? Prompts

[aquilathefighter]

Fluffbruary 3: Beach

As always, my @fluffbruary ficlets can all be found on AO3 here!

Fandom: The Sandman (2022)

Relationship: Dream of the Endless/Hob Gadling

I relate a lot to much of Dream's personality as an autistic person. The feeling too much, holding it all back until the dam breaks, and getting lost in your work to the point where you don't know how much time has passed or the last time you moved your body. With that said, this is loosely based on something my partner does for me when I find myself lost in work and forgetting I have a corporeal form.

Dream is working at the Sands of Creation when he hears Hob trudging through the sand. He continues working on his new dream, similar to the seafaring adventurers of old, but now they take to the skies. A dream of excitement, leaving the pale blue dot where almost every human still lives to find a new path. He finishes shaping the dark visor of the orblike helmet, then turns to Hob.

Hob has been waiting patiently for Dream to come to a stopping point for the last ten minutes or so. This is their routine. He knows Dream struggles to switch from one task to another, especially when he is awash in creativity. Dream can find himself focused on perfecting his new dreams and nightmares for days without moving or talking to anyone else or resting. Hob has mentioned that this is “not good” for his mental status, nor for the dreamstuff that comprises his body. So, whenever Hob arrives, Dream knows its time to find a stopping point to check in with his lover.

“Hello, Hob.”

“Hi duck. The new dream looks wonderful. Have you taken a break recently?” Dream shakes his head. “How’s your body feeling? Hurting?”

Dream pauses, slowly focusing on his toes, then his legs, following his checklist up his body until he reaches his head, just like Hob taught him.

“Perhaps we should… lie down.” With a wave of his hand, a cozy beach blanket now lays upon the sand, the bright salmon and white stripes contrasting with the dark tones of the sand. Hob takes his hand and helps him lie down, Dream’s body protesting with stiffness. The two roll to face each other, Hob pulling Dream close to nestle against his chest. He waits for Dream to relax into him as the muscle tension slowly deflates. Dream goes through his mental checklist, actively unclenching each body part that he had forgotten was torqued up in his work.

When he is finally boneless, Dream lifts his arm and drapes it across Hob’s waist. He takes in the sensations around him, each one pouring into his mind and putting him at ease. The warmth of Hob’s body emanates even here in the Dreaming. Dream inhales deeply, taking in Hob’s scent and registering it as safe in his brain. No matter how volcanic his emotions may be, Hob will always be there to wait for him, and hold him, and bring him hot tea and soft blankets. Expanding his awareness further out, Dream feels the smooth texture of the beach blanket beneath them, perfect for lying in the sun. He hears the sounds of the sea, waves lapping at the shore, gentle and peaceful. He closes his eyes and buries his head in Hob’s chest, the rhythmic breathing reminding him why he’s alive.

Dream drifts, approaching as close as the King of Dreams can to sleep. He never realizes how much the rest is needed until Hob breaks him out of his focus.

They lie together, unconcerned about time. Simply enjoying the sensations that roll across their bodies. Hob understands him like no other lover has, accepts his fickle nature and dedication to his work without question, and only tries to help him in the way only he can.

Dream nuzzles closer, planting a kiss directly over Hob’s heart. He knows in the very core of his being, that he is safe and loved.

[seekers-who-are-lovers]

‘I want it that way’

So inspired by the artwork posted by @mirrorshards that made me write this. (I hope it is all right.)

For @flashfictionfridayofficial with the prompt #FFF249 Open your eyes

And for @fluffbruary April 14 : coffee | florist | vision prompt

Fandom: Brave Bang Bravern

Pairing: Ao Isami x Lewis Smith

Number of words: 576

Ten minutes. Roughly. As soon as Lewis put on his Tricolour shirt, tentacle-like hands grabbed him from behind. The owner’s hands belonged to one Ao Isami, whose jet-black hair suddenly grew like daggers sprouting from his head. Lewis played with it, pulling it gently, letting his fingers savour its texture. Despite its appearance, the strands were so soft to the touch.

“Isami… I am not leaving you…” The American lieutenant assured Isami. On the surface, Lewis wanted to appear tough and cool. But deep inside, he was so grateful of Isami’s turnaround. He cherished it, preferred that Isami would stay that way. In truth, it’d break Lewis’ heart if he were forced to leave the Japanese officer again behind.

“You say that and then you go poof!” The shorter man mumbled on Lewis’ neck. Like a small affectionate dog, Isami began to lick the exposed skin of his nape and sniffed.

Lewis noticed his—Darn, Can he say it now?—lover’s eyes that remained close during the amorous proceeding.

“Isami, open your eyes! Look at me.” Lewis ordered him.

Isami shook his head. His hair tickled Lewis. The fear that the American would vanish from his vision concerned him. He then turned around and hugged the dark-haired man before him. So tight that the two of them couldn’t breathe anymore.

“Nope. No can do. What if you disappeared again?” Is this the stoic Isami that Hibiki and Miss Miyu used to tell me about?

“I am not going anywhere, Isami. Never will I do that. Besides, it wasn’t what I wanted. If I could, I would survive. But.. Isami, I came back, didn’t I?”

“You did! And I was grateful for it. Captain Satake wanted to talk to us. There might be examinations and lotsa interviews that I don’t care about. But.. but I am not in the mood for all of it.”

Just in time when the intercom at Smith’s room rang. The American dragged Isami with him still holding his waist to answer it.

“Admiral King wants to see us too. Come on, Isami, we have to see them now,” If Lewis could, he would stay with Isami in bed forever. Speaking of bed, they might ask the procurement officer to… oh well.

“Promise me, Lewis, please promise me that you won’t do a disappearing act again,” Isami held his face.

“Not going anywhere… won’t go anywhere…” Lewis kissed him full on the lips, their first time in this dimension, where Lewis as human again. The memories on the beach resurfaced. New lovers under the moon, blessed by the bonfire.

“Get this, Isami, I will stay with you. With Lulu. God knows that girl needs us. But only if you want me to.”

Isami didn’t reply instead he held him more tightly. They stayed like that for a few minutes until Lewis bit his ear gently.

“Come on, love, they are waiting for us. I guess, we have so much explanaining to do.” He stood up, arranged his shirt and his trousers too. Wouldn’t get caught with this condition, no way.

“Isami! Let’s!” He held his hand to Isami, who wasn’t convinced.

“All right, let’s get this over with. Then I want to stay in bed all day.”

Lewis laughed.

“If you want to!” The two of them walked together hand in hand knowing that it would be the beginning of a new chapter in their lives.

~ fin ~

[tj-dragonblade]

Fanfic Tag Game

Tagged by @softest-punk and @landwriter, thank you both!

1. How many fics do you have on AO3? 133

2. What’s your total AO3 word count? I will break 400K with the next thing I post (unless it is somehow less than 401 words lol) Also, this would require actually focusing on something to finish it

3. What fandoms do you write for? Currently? Sandman (technically, Dreamling). Previously? MCU, Naruto, Saiyuki, and Gundam Wing

4. What are your top five fics by kudos? Overall (these are from my Naruto days and more than ten years old): Delayed (or, Why Kakashi Is Never On Time) (GaiKaka) at 3963 Past the Limits (KakaNaru) at 1272 Affirmation (KakaNaru) at 1022 Worth It (KakaIru) at 1005 Vigil (GaaNaru) at 843 (It kills me that I am Just Not That Into Kakashi and yet he's fucked his way into four of my top five, lol)Current fandom tops, just for fun (all of which are at most a year-plus-change in age) Use Your Words at 443 Insatiable at 398 Fluffbruary Fills (2023) at 375 In the Morning Light at 318 Built For You at 308

5. Do you respond to comments? Yes, generally! I am still catching up on Fluffbruary comments, much to my chagrin

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? Going aaaallllll the way back to Gundam Wing, I did a songfic where I implied a breakup until the final-line reveal that the character had gasp actually died. There may be a couple other angst-based pieces in my catalog, but that I think is the Most(tm).

7. What is the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? Most everything I write is a happy ending, when there's any semblance of plot involved. Uh. The Umbrella Boys AU had a wedding; maybe that counts? Either that or the Thessaly breakup fic with all the hurt-comfort pining that finally resolves into requited realization.

8. Do you get hate on fics? Never have, would like to keep it that way.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind? The good kind *eyebrow waggle*

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written? I have…three, that could be counted as crossovers, and one that's a proper fusion. None of them are particularly crazy. Duo and Wufei did Naruto roleplay in the bedroom. Kakashi and Naruto took on Princess Bride's fire swamp. Gojyo and Hakkai acquired Jiipu from Count D and his pet shop with a complete disregard for the fourth wall. Maybe that one, then, though it's more crack than crazy-crossover. Hob wearing the Wavemother's Robe is not enough of anything to count as a crossover.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen? Not that I'm aware of, no

12. Have you ever had a fic translated? Yes! I don't recall which ones but I've had requests to translate to Chinese, to Russian, and I think Spanish as well? Possibly French also. My memory is shit. Je suis désolé.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic? Yeah, a friend and I co-wrote a couple back in GW and it was…fun? At the time? It started as me helping her with the smut portion of a thing she was doing and turned into a cowrite with a sequel. Not the sort of thing I'd have written on my own, and definitely not now twenty years later with my current kink preferences

14. What’s your all time favourite ship? …yeah, that's not a thing I can answer. Whichever I'm fixated on is inevitably my favorite at the time but once the fixation fades, I still have so much love for each of them.

15. What’s a fic you’d like to finish but don’t think you ever will? Oh my god there are so many. But there are two-three unfinished drafts for ThorBruce fic that I really—see, my MCU fandom experience soured so fast I did not have my usual three-year run of productive ficwriting and the ideas I was working on probably could have been finished were that not the case. I would still love to finish them but the motivation (let alone the time) is just not there.

16. What are your writing strengths? I take great pride in my smut, and I like to think I'm good at it. Painting pictures with my words? Maybe character voice, in certain cases.

17. What are your writing weaknesses? Plot. Stories with plot and progression and chapters and such. Follow-through to finish pieces that don't get done in the initial burst of focus.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in a fic? If I had a need for it at some point, I would want to consult a native speaker to ensure correct translation and I would include the translation in footnotes etc. But it would have to be some really specific reason that the foreign language was needed/integral to some story device to not just indicate via some other means (e.g., '"xyz," he said, in perfect French', use of italics, etc) that a different language is in use.

19. First fandom you wrote for? Gundam Wing. If we don't count the 'DS9 novel idea' that I recall making notes on in my journal back in high school, or any of the Mary Sue DS9 thoughts I would also journal about. None of that was ever 'actual writing' nor did I have anywhere I would have shared it in '96.

20. Favourite fic you’ve written? Again. How'm I supposed to pick? Ugh. Let's see, fandom by fandom. Gundam Wing…no, nothing there is a favorite. Saiyuki…When the Chips Are Down. Comedy gen-fic based on a tidbit of fandom lore is not something I manage terribly often but I am quite pleased with this one; Jiipu's pov always delights me and I'm proud of all the voice work here also. Naruto…maybe Seized? Sai POV is one of my strengths and I think it came through really well in that one. MCU…Carpe Diem, I'm very pleased with character voices in that one. Sandman…I remain very fond of the Drunken Confessions Fluffbruary 2023 fic and the Car and Cutoffs one might be my favorite smutfic. So far.

If you'd like to do this, please take my passive tag this has been sitting in my drafts for weeks.

[topsyturvy-turtely]

Fluffbruary with turtely

(missed days edition)

Day 20

[day 19] [day 21]

prompts: will be listed at the A/N at the end (to not spoil my own story)

fandom: BBC Sherlock

will be uploaded to "That Stuff Called Fluff" on Ao3!

♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡

John was (almost) certain Sherlock wouldn't figure it out. Not because he wasn't smart enough (of course he was - it was hardly an unsolvable riddle), but because he wouldn't pay enough attention to it. So when John started with his little game at the first evening (he would give his hints only at evenings - to get some routine into it, to distinguish between his hints and his every day utterances), it was something unsuspicious, something Sherlock should be used to by now.

"You are fantastic", he said on Monday (at Scotland Yard, after his flatmate had deduced the murderer's motive in less than ten minutes). But still Sherlock gave him a side glance (which was slightly unbelieving) and started smiling (just a bit) when he saw John's big honest eyes.

Tuesday evening (when they sat across each other in their armchairs) John blurted, "You know, when you solved Greg's cold case the other day. That- you are..." John cleared his throat (awkwardly). "...amazing. Is all." Sherlock looked up, studied his face for a (-n intense) second and nodded. And then it (the intensity) was over.

John decided his hints needed to be more distinguished from his usual declarations (compliments). He wasn't sure why he had decided that: he was going to be sublte (but maybe he wanted to be busted?). This time (on Wednesday) he was not gonna say anything however. He grabbed a newspaper and a pen and circled four letters in the crossword puzzle. Ⓥariant, Ⓘllinois, Ⓟi. Then (hesitantly at first, determined at last) ⓊFO. He placed the newspaper beside him. He noticed Sherlock standing next to him at some point (tea mug in his hand) scanning the newspaper (for just a few seconds too long) then catching John's eyes. The doctor raised his eyebrows innocently. (He was being obvious wasn't he?) And they never exchanged a word about it.

When Sherlock wanted to leave their flat late Thursday afternoon to get cigarette patches (John had refused to get them for him), he was only wearing a dressing gown. John looked at him, mouth wide open. "Are you going like this?"

"I don't see why not.", the detective (manchild) replied.

"You truly are one-of-a-kind." (Fine, it might have been a compliment packed in an insult but John needed to be more subtle). Sherlock said, "You should know that by now.", and left (in dressing gown and dress shoes).

Friday night they walked home side by side (from a dinner, that would probably count as a date if they would want that), arms brushing (not so) accidentally. Sherlock looked up to the sky, at all those stars above them. "It's ravishing, isn't it?", he asked. And John stared at him with disbelief (love) in his eyes. Then he took the opportunity and whispered so quitely Sherlock (almost) couldn't hear, "So are you."

On Saturday they solved a case together (Anderson had sarcastically called them 'dream team'). And when they got home, already fallen into their respective armchairs, suddenly Sherlock started laughing loudly (unapologetically). And John (couldn't help but) join(ed). Getting more and more giggly every time Sherlock laughed (snorted with laughter). "You are intoxicating", John said when they have calmed down a bit. And together they exploded into another laughing fit.

On Sunday Sherlock had cooked something for them (it wasn't all that great, to be honest). And John (teasingly) grinned at him. "You are such a talented cook, Sherlock." And his flatmate grinned right back at him.

They ate their dinner together - in (comfortable) silence. Well, John tried to, Sherlock busied himself sorting his food ingredients next to each other by their colors and sizes. Then he dropped his fork suddenly (making a loud noise). "I figured it out."

John just raised his eyebrows at Sherlock. "What exactly are you talking about?"

"Your... your game. Your riddle. Whatever you wanna call it."

John (didn't know what to say or do so he just) continued looking at Sherlock.

"You were spelling a word. Each evening a new compliment, each somehow describing... personality traits."

John still didn't say anything so the genius continued, "Fantastic, amazing, VIP, one-of-a-kind, ravishing, intoxicating, talented. You were spelling favorite to me. Packed in a riddle."

John smiled at him. "Nice deduction, Sherlock."

Sherlock waved away his (additional) compliment. "Favorite... favorite... favorite WHAT, John?"

"Your genius brain hasn't figured it out yet?", John countered. "A four words sentence. The most important one was the riddle itself. Two were included in every presentation of a hint. Fourth needs to be filled by conclusion."

Knitted eyebrows soothed. "You are..."

John nodded. "The two words provided in the hints..."

Sherlock's eyes widened, "My... favorite?", he asked incredulously. "I am your favorite?"

"You are my favorite.", John nodded, a soft, loving smile on his face. He crossed a boundary he had never dared to cross before and reached his hand out to take Sherlock's in his.

"That- that's...", Sherlock rarely fought for words but John had an effect on him, that made him discover new things about himself every day. He glared at their hands, seemingly decided to focus on words instead, and whipped his gaze up, "What was the E gonna stand for?"

John looked at the floor, before he took a deep breath and stared directly into Sherlock's eyes. "Evermore. You are my favorite for evermore, Sherlock." He squeezed his hand three times (which means 'I love you') and Sherlock forgot how to speak, but squeezed John's hand three times back, because he knew it means 'I love you' and he did (undeniably) love John, too.

♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡

A/N: prompts: favourite | reveal | lounge by @fluffbruary <3

YES to feedback! 💚🐢💚🐢

tag list! (tell me if you wanna be added or removed💚) @justanobsessedpan @helloliriels @fluffbyday-smutbynight @inevitably-johnlocked @hisfavouritejumper @rhasima @forfucksakejohn @ohlooktheresabee @turbulenttrouble @so-youre-unattached-like-me @totallysilvergirl @peanitbear @train-mossman @loki-lock @smulderscobie @timberva @grace-in-the-wilderness @chinike @pansherlock @the-smol-bean-libby-blog @jawnn-watson @whatnext2020 @escapingthereality @missdeliadili @kettykika78 @musingsofmyown @7-percent @speedymoviesbyscience @astudyin221b @francj15 @almosttinycowboy @ladylindaaa @we-r-loonies @mxster-jocale @sherlockcorner @noahspector @our-stars-graveside @jobooksncoffee @baker-street-blog @psychosociogentleman @quickslvxr @macgyvershe @myladylyssa @johnlock2708 @battledress @a-victorian-girl @dreamerofthemeadow @oetkb12 @ohnoesnotagain @mutedsilence

[mairablue]

SCM - Department Of Wishes

Tauxolouve ♐- Good Night, My Love

For fluffbruary event ( @fluffbruary )

A/N: I was half asleep while writing this. Hopefully it turned out alright.😅 I hope you like reading this.

Prompts: reflection | water | apology

11th February, 2024

~~~

The bag hung low on your back, as if all the weight of the world was on your shoulders. Why did the bag feel so heavy on days when there was a lot of work to do? You wondered.

Opening the door and dropping the bag on the sofa you sat down. Hands resting on your side, eyes closed, head leaning against the backrest of the sofa. You inhaled and exhaled until you felt a bit better.

You took a quick shower. Brushed your hair, putting it in a loose ponytail. Staring at your own reflection in the mirror, you notices the dark circles that have started to form under your eyes. Your lips looked slightly pale and chapped. Putting on some moisturizer; you went back to the living room to collect your bag.

Bringing it in your room.

-

The reflecting pool was softly glowing, as the wishes were being swiftly granted one by one.

"You seem to be, in a hurry." Aigonorus commented.

"I am going out with, (Name) tonight." Tauxolouve replied before directing his attention back, at the paper in his hand.

Aigonorus nodded his head, "Where are you two going?" he asked.

"We haven't decided yet. But there is a movie that she was telling me about last month." The corners of his lips curled up as soon as the words escaped from his lips.

They stayed silent for the next half an hour.

"Have fun." Aigonorus said smiling; as Tauxolouve was about to leave. "We will." Tauxolouve said, smiling back at Aigonorus.

-

You slowly opened the door. A bright smile adorned his face. But that smile soon disappeared as his eyes fell on you. You smiled at him; still the tiredness was visible on your face.

He walked in the living room, softly closing the door behind him. You broke the silence, "I am sorry. We got some assignments today. I will need at least 4 hours to write all of that. I can't go out tonight." You apologized. The plans were made three weeks ago, when you both found a little off time in your respective schedules.

"Don't apologize, little lady." Tauxolouve softly caressed your face,"Moreover i wanted to spend some time with you; whether we go out or not." His voice was reassuring.

You nodded your head; unsure of what to say. This is not how you had, envisioned to spend the evening with Tauxolouve. But you were not complaining. How could you after all? Not seeing him for three weeks had been more agonizing than you were willing to admit. You gently hugged him.

The window was partially open, allowing the soft glow of the setting Sun into the room.

The generally organized study table, was messy. Three books, an opened notebook and a few pens and pencil were scattered on it.

Picking a book from the shelf, Tauxolouve sat down on another chair. You sat on your chair and started writing.

Time flew by swiftly; six more pages and it will be done. "( Name )?" Tauxolouve softly called out your name, offering you a glass of warm water. Taking the glass from him, you drank the water slowly.

Ten minutes later, you closed your notebook, books, and pen. Yawning, you stretched your arms a bit.

You walked downstairs and sat down on a chair in the dining room. "What did you get?" you asked.

"Soup, vegarable fried rice... they also told me to take some potato curry, so i bought that too. I wasn't sure what else to get." He replied sheepishly.

"Thank you." you said. You two ate in silence.

Lying on the bed, he started stroking your hair. "How have you been?" you asked.

"I was very busy. Perhaps the most work, i have done in months." He signed softly at the thought of the past three weeks.

"You were looking forward to this date..." you said quietly. "I wish the teachers would have told us sooner about those assignments."

"(Name), i don't want to go on dates, or watch movies, or go to the Cafe, or to the park. I like doing all of that because i get to experience them with you. If you are not there, then none of those activities seem interesting to me anymore." His reply was earnest.

"I wanted to see the movie with you tonight. I don't know when we will get some free time again." you said. Your eyes focused at the ceiling. "I missed you." you added. His cheeks turned a slight shade of red as you said that.

"I missed you too, my darling." He said. You rolled over on your side. Your eyes locking in with his. "I love you." you said softly; bringing your lips to his cheek.

His heart skipped a beat as the stars in his eyes glowed brighter. "I love you too." He said, holding you close. " We can spend some time tomorrow in the afternoon, if you want to." He suggested. "I would love that." you said. "Good night, my love." Was the last thing that you heard as sleep overtook you.

[autobot2001]

Daydream

Author: Autobot2001 Genre: Fanfiction Fandom: Transformers Rating: E Warning: None Pairings: Drift X Jamie (OC), Sunstreaker X Lily Jones (OC) Description: After talking to Crosshairs about thinking he needs to be better with mental discipline, Drift finds himself daydreaming while watching Jamie train with Lily.

Day 12 @fluffyfebruary: discipline @fluffbruary: graceful | volcano | blanket

With how much Crosshairs worries about him, Drift believes he needs to do better with mental discipline, but he also questions if he'd be a hypocrite after telling Crosshairs he hates when Crosshairs hides his emotions and acts like he's ok. "Drift?" He hears Crosshairs as the mech sits beside him. Crosshairs is surprised at the question Drift asks, "no, you're fine. You're watching your friend and the femme you love struggle and hurt. We need to do better with our mental health for her and ourselves."

Lily has asked Jamie to train with her. Lily knows this is training only for her, considering how much she has to learn compared to Jamie. Jamie knows she has to hold back but still give Lily a good training session. The terror twins and Crosshairs watch the two femmes before noticing Drift. "I think he's daydreaming," Sideswipe whispers. "Leave him alone," Crosshairs tells the two. Drift watches Jamie move gracefully as she avoids Lily's attacks. This turns into wondering how well Jamie can dance and wishing she'd dance with him.

The terror twins and Crosshairs wonder what has Drift smiling. The twins know Drift has been worrying a lot about Jamie. "This is interesting, but good," Sunstreaker comments, "until we have to get him back to reality."

The two femmes train for an hour. By then, Drift has stopped daydreaming. The two are tired and sweaty. "Which one is going to fall asleep at dinner?" Sideswipe jokes. I suppose this is a positive reason for late afternoon training. Drift thinks. Jamie will be asleep at a good time.

Taking a shower adds to both femmes' tiredness. The friends decide to stick to the routine. Hoping the femmes don't fall asleep too early. Drift and Sunstreaker grabbed a blanket from their rooms.

They sit next to their femme, wrapping the blanket around the both of them. Sideswipe can't resist taking pictures.

The night is relaxing, and as the four mechs thought, Jamie and Lily are asleep. The two made it to ten before falling asleep. "How many times are you going to take the same pictures?" Sunstreaker asks as he stands up, holding Lily, "I know you've taken this picture several times before." "Not my fault it's cute," Sideswipe argues. After the pictures, the four go to bed.

[diana-bookfairchild]

Part 3 of 3

@adrinetteapril Day 10: Stupid in Love @fluffbruary April: Lilac, Baking

Adrien didn’t realize how out of his way he’d been going to see Marinette until he went out of his way to avoid her.

Of course, the fact that he hadn’t even realized he had a crush on her until she refused his offer of checking out another restaurant – basically his attempt at asking her out before he knew he wanted to ask her out - was testament enough to his obliviousness.

Plagg had been torn between sympathy and laughter. Adrien had had to deal with feelings realization and rejection at the same time. If you think one is bad, try that.

“Kid, Pigtails was a total disaster around you back when you were in college,” his kwami had said sagaciously. “If she didn’t have a crush on you, I’ll eat that entire wheel of camembert.”

“I’m sure you’re going to do that either way,” Adrien had responded dryly.

“Fine! But that doesn’t change the facts. Pigtails has it real bad for you.”

“Then why did she say no?” Adrien wailed into his pillow. “Why? Why? Why? Why? WHY?”

“Please stop,” Plagg had said, looking disturbed. “First of all, did you tell her it was for a date?”

He open and shut his mouth, speechless. No, he hadn’t explicitly mentioned it. But surely, it would have been obvious? The ridiculously romantic atmosphere of the restaurant – and he really had to wonder why Andy had pushed him so much for that one once Bianca’s (he couldn’t even think of the name of the place without his heartbreak rearing its head again) had no longer been an option – aside, they had just affirmed that they were glad to be alone together and held hands!

“She held my hand!” Adrien gasped. He remembered seeing Marinette smile up at him, and just suddenly deciding he wanted to hold her hand. The way her fingers had curled into his. “Her hand in mine! And I didn’t even appreciate it!”

“And he’s gone crazy,” Plagg was commentating to the cheese he was eating. “It was only a matter of time, but still, the timing. Love and madness: always together!”

“I’m not crazy,” he rolled his eyes. “I’m just in love! I’m only seventeen! I’m allowed to be dramatic.”

“In love?” Plagg had asked sarcastically. “Wasn’t it a crush ten seconds ago?”

Adrien had gasped and lay down facing the ceiling and started to panic again.

The next day of her internship at Gabriel, the panic had started to bubble up again, especially with the aforementioned realization. Timing his entry with hers. Showing her the way. Seeking her out in the cafeteria. Helping Juliet score entry with the photographer to the shoot. Wanting to go with her to the place he and Ladybug had last fought together. Offering to model.

How exactly had he not realized his feelings before? They were obvious.

And yet at the same time. . . He’d been in love with Ladybug for years. And it wasn’t like those feelings were gone. His heart still jumped in his chest every time he saw her.

So was it fair to Marinette that he asked her out while still in love with someone else and had only felt the impulse to do so because she had so fiercely defended his alter ego?

Maybe it was good that she refused him after all.

He sighed, trailing after Nathalie as she signed onto meetings and told him to take notes and that they would be discussing what was most important in the meeting afterwards.

Nathalie was scarily efficient. She was the closest thing to family he had other than Father and Aunt Amelie and Felix and the Gorilla, but still. She could be scary.

“—the interns,” somebody was saying, and Adrien’s mind immediately jumped back to the conversation going on. Marinette was like – an itch to scratch.

Okay, that was a terrible metaphor for someone he had romantic interest in. But it was the best he could come up with. He knew it was a horrible idea to fall in love with and moon over someone you’re not sure returns your feelings, especially when you’ve been in love with someone else for years and are definitely not over them. But still. Hearing about Marinette, looking for her, offering to model for her – they were pleasurable for the moment, even if bad for the long term.

Every time he even thought of her since their work date the previous day, it felt like there was conflagration in his veins.

Work date. Yeah, right.

If Vincent, Juliet, Andy and the others had come, it would have been that, sure. But he’d been alone with Marinette.

Right. Time to stop thinking about that.

“Mme. Oppenord didn’t have the best things to say at first, but the reports have improved,” Someone was saying.

Adrien frowned. What exactly did that mean?

“It’s only been a week,” Nathalie said coolly. “Mlle. Dupain-Cheng will have more opportunities to prove herself.” She sent him a quelling look.

Was it that obvious that he would have interrupted? Adrien thought moodily to himself. And he quite frankly failed to see what Mme. Oppenord would have had to complain about. Even his father had been grudgingly impressed with her designs – he’d given his approval for Adrien to model with only a single criticism about hemlines. Coming from Father, that was basically effusive praise.

“You need to be more professional, Adrien,” Nathalie said sharply as they exited the room. “You cannot impulsively interrupt a conversation, even if it’s about your friend. Especially without knowledge of what it’s about, and while contradicting someone.”

Adrien took a deep breath, trying to will the heartbreak he hadn’t felt since Ladybug had told him she was dating someone down. Nathalie was right. He didn’t know what he’d been thinking.

“I understand that your … feelings might be difficult,” she said, softer now.

He couldn’t believe even Nathalie had managed to see his emotional turmoil. Was she trying to give him love advice??

“I’ll be fine,” he said hurriedly, not wanting to hear it. “Thank you, Nathalie. I’ll keep that in mind. What are we going to do next? Please tell me it’s not another board meeting because the last time--”

Was word-vomit contagious? Because—

Ugh! Why did every single thought lead to Marinette?

Adrien imagined himself writing a tortured ballad about his love and despair and then flailing about on the piano like people imagined rockstars did, all brash rock, no melody. Then he imagined Luka’s reaction if he were to ever hear these thoughts.

Right. He needed to get himself together.

 Nathalie may have had a point. Not that he would ever tell her that.

Adrien might be just a little bit irrationally emotional.

“As it happens, I have a meeting with Mme. Oppenord,” Nathalie said, glancing at her tablet. “But—”

“Can I do something else?” He asked instantly, openly showing he would rather not discuss Marinette at the moment. Because who else could be the subject of that meeting? Especially after his father had given approval for his modelling of her designs.

Nathalie seemed vaguely sympathetic for a moment before reverting to her apathetic façade. “Of course. You have an hour before you are due to start your homework, so I suggest you visit the models on the runway for the upcoming line. As the CEO’s son and a model yourself, your advice will be helpful. An employer must always—”

“I’m planning on double majoring in business, Nathalie,” Adrien rolled his eyes. “Plus the Intro to Business course I already take. I really don’t need it twice.”

“Very well,” she raised an eyebrow at him and he knew he’d be hearing little nuggets of business wisdom till the end of his life. He headed for the wardrobe, where he knew at least some of the models would be hanging around. The runway wasn’t until next week, but he knew final alterations and practices would be going on now.

“—turn around please,” he heard a very familiar voice.

Damn.

Marinette was kneeling in front of a girl in a long lilac ballgown, pencil behind her ear, and holding a tape measure against the dress with furrowed eyebrows and tongue sticking out with concentration.

She looked adorable.

“Get that lovesick look of yours off your face, kid,” muttered Plagg from inside his jacket.

“You can’t even see me right now,” he hissed back.

“Don’t need to. Say, you think boss lady did this on purpose?”

Adrien’s eyes widened. Had Nathalie done this on purpose? Even the thought seemed ridiculous. Nathalie didn’t do pranks or romance. No chance. “No way,” he replied.

“M. Agreste!” Mme. Rosalie called, looking pleased. Marinette gave an eep and dropped the tape measure in a sudden onset of clumsiness.

Adrien’s stomach sank. Maybe he wasn’t the only one who thought avoiding the other was a good idea.

“Mme. Sancœur told us you’d be here! Would you like to talk to the models?” The woman asked expectantly.

Adrien cleared his throat. “Right. I would. I’ll just … wander around?”

She inclined her head. “As you see fit.”

Adrien went in the opposite direction to where Marinette was. He talked to a couple of the models, most of whom were experienced, some even as much as he was, and stayed a bit longer with the two newbies. His father wouldn’t like it if they messed the upcoming line up. Adrien knew one of the designs being modelled would be one his mother had been the muse for, only days before she disappeared.

Father had been better about telling him about his mother, ever since the whole movie-girlfriend-Akumatized-Gorilla-nearly-dying thing. Though that wasn’t saying much.

Andy waved at him from where she was adjusting a sombrero on one of the models’ head. In the process, the hat wobbled and Kivan – the model – yelped. He grinned and waved back as Andy sheepishly went back to focusing on her work.

There was no getting around it anymore – he walked over to Marinette and the girl who were now chatting as Marinette folded up the clothes they’d been doing the final adjustments for. When his friend saw him, she blushed and started talking very rapidly to the model, who just looked confused until she spotted him.

“Adrien Agreste!” She squeaked, before she composed herself. “Sorry. It’s a pleasure to meet you, M. Agreste.”

Feeling glad that there was no more fangirling, Adrien shook her hand. “You as well, Mademoiselle.”

“I’ve been following your modelling career for a long time,” she started enthusiastically. “And can I just say what an inspiration it is to me? Especially the spring line you did in ’19.”

Adrien froze up, blinking in astonishment. Nobody had ever said that to him. To him, modelling was only a way to get some extra money for his savings and a way his father still had control on his diet and activities. The fact that he could have inspired a budding model was. . .

“Th-Thank you,” he swallowed. “Yeah, that shot was. . . definitely something.” She was right in finding that particular one inspiring, because there were very few shots in his career that had been as taxing as that one.

“That was the one that took over ten separate shoots, right?” Marinette asked quietly.

“Ten?!” The girl’s eyes widened, but neither Adrien nor Marinette was paying any attention.

“Yes,” he said quickly, too glad that she had spoken to him. It certainly was a turn from never wanting to speak to her again to being desperate for even a single word from her lips. But her looking him in the eye made his insides jump and twist themselves into knots.

Maybe she had refused the offer of a second date-disguised-as-work. Maybe he was still in love with Ladybug. But he couldn’t believe he had ever thought his feelings for her weren’t genuine or that no contact with her would have been better than friendship.

Friendship was more than enough: he had survived Ladybug, and he would survive Marinette too. To the lonely boy locked in his house after the loss of his mother, the friends he had, like Nino, Alya, Marinette and his classmates in college and lycée, were a dream come true.

“Wow, something that could make me reconsider the modelling,” the girl – Adrien couldn’t believe he still didn’t know her name – huffed a laugh. “Didn’t know that existed.”

Marinette laughed out loud. If Adrien were more of a sap, he would say it was like the chiming of bells, the sound of the calm sea waves, the press of a piano key and the chirping of a bird.

Damn it. He was that much of a sap.

“The industry of whatever you’re in has a way of doing that,” she agreed warmly. “Being a fashion designer is pretty much all I’ve wanted since I was a kid – though I did get distracted by wood-carving and architecture and furniture and mechanics and jewellery for a while,” she admitted ruefully, and Adrien made a note of the information. He’d known about the wood-carving – Nino, Kim and Max had a couple she’d made for them during that particular phase, and she’d had the jewellery phase in college, but not architecture or furniture or mechanics. “But when I found out about the politicking and the terrible prospects of some designers –” she made a face.

“I get what you mean,” Adrien said. “Lots of people have this idealized view of modelling in their head. But it isn’t all good. Like you said,” he nodded at her. “It can be really frustrating and tiring and restricting. Even still … it can be worth it.” He gave her some more advice, mulling over his new perspective over the job his father had forced onto him over the years. Marinette stacked the clothes neatly and passed them onto the person collecting them, listening quietly.

The model – to his shame, he still didn’t know her name – gave the pleasantries and then skipped away. Marinette and Adrien were left in an awkward silence.

He fidgeted with his miraculous, debating speaking up. She beat him to it. “You’re – you’re coming to Rose’s party tomorrow, right?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I am.” Adrien had almost forgotten it was the next day. “Why?”

“Have you gotten a gift for her?”

“Yes, I bought something a couple days ago.” He shrugged, trying to indicate how dissatisfied he was with it. He knew she would like it, but he still wanted to get his friends presents that would make them as happy as his father had made him with that one-time gift of a scarf.

Marinette nodded rapidly. “I have one for her too! I made something. But. Um. I’m baking a batch of lavender and honey macarons – they’re her favourite.”

“That’s a really nice gift,” Adrien commented, torn between admiration for his love’s gift-giving and envy for it.

“Y-Yes! I mean, thank you!” She stammered, and it was like a flashback to their college days. “I was wondering, maybe you wanted to come help me make them? Today?”

Adrien gaped for a moment, before Nathalie’s Public Comportment lessons took a hold. “Yes! That would be lovely!” The olive branch she’d clearly extended was the best thing that had ever happened to him.

Well, except being Chat Noir. If he said otherwise, Plagg would kill him. Or maybe only maim him, to keep his cheese supply going.

Marinette’s eyes brightened and she looked him in the face for the first time since the model had left. She opened her mouth to say something.

—— And right then there was a loud scream from the other side of the building. Alarms began flashing and a cool voice called over the sound system: “There is an Akuma in the southern part of the premises. We request everyone to evacuate calmly. . .”

Adrien didn’t bother listening to the spiel. “I have to go,” he blurted out to Marinette, cringing at the thought of what she would think of him and this, before shoving his way to a closet and transforming.

“MARINETTE DUPAIN-CHENG!” The Akuma - whom due to a distinctively female style he would refer to as ‘she’ – bellowed.

Chat Noir’s heart fell to his stomach. The Akuma was clearly aware of where his friend was, because she was headed straight for the wardrobe. He saved a couple civilians from the carnage she was wreaking on the way, and hurried forward, for once not worried about when Ladybug would arrive.

All that was on his thoughts was Marinette.

Ladybug swung onto the scene, eyes calculating. “Chat! What’s the scene? Do you know where the Akuma is?”

“Er – no. She’s after a civilian. Marinette Dupain-Cheng.” When Ladybug shot him an odd look, he wondered if he was doing a bad job at hiding his terrified concern.

“Well, we’ll have to stop her before she gets to her then. Come on, kitty, let’s go!”

He had to smile. His Lady always had a way of showing determination and fierceness even through the worst times. “Right behind you, m’lady.”

The fight wasn’t particularly hard: Hawkmoth must seriously be running out of good Akumas. At least it hadn’t been a repeat of Mr. Pigeon.

As Ladybug tossed her Lucky Charm into the air and fixed everything, the Akuma swirled and the black smoke left her, revealing the person underneath.

“Mme. Oppenord?” Ladybug sounded as taken aback as he was. Why was Marinette’s mentor so angry at her?

“Oh, my God.” The woman whispered. “I – I can’t believe—I have to find my daughter! And Marinette! I need to apologize to her!”

Ladybug’s earring beeped. “Chat, can you take her?” He nodded, but frowned as his partner pressed the charm into Mme. Oppenord’s hand. She had some time left. He wondered why she was in such a hurry.

He escorted her to the wardrobe and hid to reappear as Adrien. He came out to the woman tearfully explaining something to Marinette.

“I’m so sorry!” She was saying. “My daughter is – she’s an intern here. And this was after so much effort on her part, after she had to spend so many years working odd jobs to get into university. When you just – swanned in here with your connections, I – I thought it was favouritism. And I got so angry. . . .”

“You’ve been giving unfavourable reports about Marinette,” Adrien realized in disbelief.

Mme. Oppenord looked down, eyes closed, aloof façade entirely gone. “Yes. I’m so, so, sorry. It was just the one. Right after. . .”

“I complained about you,” Juliet stepped out of the shadow. “I’m sorry, Marinette.”

“Juliet? You’re – You’re Mme. Oppenord’s daughter?” Marinette sounded astounded. “And you complained about me?”

She winced. “It was about—” her eyes flicked to him, and he frowned, confused. “Your … wasting our effort. You know.”

Marinette clenched her fists. “I can’t believe you dragged personal problems into a professional setting,” she said coolly. Mother and daughter flinched back. “I will be requesting a different supervisor, Mme. Oppenord.”

Mme. Oppenord looked sad, but only inclined her head. “Of course.”

“And Juliet—”

“She only complained once,” Andy pleaded suddenly. “I swear. It was only a casual comment. You’re our friend. We resented you in concept, you know, only lycée, connections with the CEO, but as soon as we met you it was all disproved. Instantly. We would never harm you, personally or professionally, Marinette. I promise.”

Marinette hesitated. She had a long record of forgiving friends instantly, Adrien knew. Especially after the Lila fiasco. “You’re my friends too. Alright. We’ll see.”

Juliet and Andy practically collapsed in relief. “Thank you, Marinette.” Juliet said weakly.

“Thank Andy.” She replied dryly.

“You’re the best best friend ever,” Juliet told Andy earnestly. “Thanks so—” She couldn’t finish. Andy went to her, threw her arms around her and kissed her.

“You’re welcome,” she gasped, as they separated from their rather passionate embrace. She noticed Adrien and Marinette’s lack of surprise. “You – guessed?”

“I knew,” Marinette corrected, laughing. “You guys act just like our friends who’re dating. Juleka and—” A look of horror crossed her face. “Oh. Oh no.”

“What happened?” Adrien asked immediately, concerned, looking her over for injury, readying himself to kill whoever had distressed her.

“Rose! Rose’s birthday party! I should’ve been home fifteen minutes back to start on her macarons!” She exclaimed.

Adrien looked at his watch. “If we get in my car right now, the Gorilla can have us there in ten minutes.”

“You’ll take me?” His friend asked, surprised.

“Of course! We are baking together, aren’t we?” He winked, and saw her blush. She recovered quickly, though, sticking her tongue out at Juliet and Andy, who were smirking at her for some reason. “Let’s go?” He held out his arm for her, only later realizing the parallel to their disastrous sort-of date.

This time, she took it without hesitation, smiling up at him. “Let’s.”

This car drive was different.

The last time he’d been bubbling over with anticipation and nerves for something he didn’t even know he wanted, filled with an adoration he’d called platonic. This time was … more awkward.

They reached Marinette’s home soon enough, conversing only for slight small talk and discussing the Akuma. Apparently Marinette had locked herself into a cupboard when she’d heard it was after her, which was smart, as Adrien told her.

“Not cowardly?” She’d asked with a laugh.

Adrien had been ferocious in his defense of that decision, which had obviously shocked her, but then she smiled at him, eyes and the lines around them softening. They’d smiled pretty dopily at each other until the Gorilla coughed and held the car door open. Also, why was everyone smirking at them like they knew something the two of them didn’t?

“Er. . . Can you remind me what colour lavender and honey macarons are?” Adrien asked nervously, shuffling from foot to foot as they entered the family kitchen. M. Dupain and Mme. Cheng had been very happy to see him, exclaiming over how tall he’d gotten and asking about his school and commenting that he needed to eat more. They were very nice people. He liked them a lot. (They’d smirked at him and Marinette when told they were baking together too. It was beginning to get irritating.) (Adrien was absolutely not imaging them as his in-laws. Definitely not.)

“They’re lilac. You know, the colour of the dress Addison was trying on?”

“Who?” Adrien asked blankly.

She cast him a deeply amused look. “The model. To whom you were preaching the wonders and terrors of modelling?” Adrien blushed and stammered ala college Marinette. She laughed and teased him as she got things out and he stared. “So, why do you want to know the colour?”

“Honestly, to know which of the ones you used to give out it is,” he admitted, making her laugh again. He smiled himself. Marinette was so nice to talk to. Even past the awkwardness, she was so sweet. He bet even macarons weren’t as sweet as her.

Wow. That came out wrong.

“Have you never baked before?” She asked as she started whisking the egg whites. “Also, can you raise it to medium high heat and hold the pan over it?” She nudged her head toward the pan in which she’d poured syrup and some sort of sugar? Into.

“Not really,” he admitted, unsurely executing her commands with frequent reassurances. “Only with you and your parents those couple of times. We have a chef.”

“That’s fair,” she laughed. “I probably wouldn’t get up to cook or bake if I had a personal chef.”

“No, you would,” Adrien said earnestly. “You’re too kind and hard-working and curious to not want to know what they’d do and try to help them.”

There was a pause in conversation. He looked up to see Marinette having stopped whisking, her cheeks bright red and eyes shining as she stared at him. He cleared his throat uncomfortably, heart fluttering. “What next?”

She snapped out of it. “It’s reached soft ball stage. Hand that over to me. Since you’ve never baked before, you can start on the ganache. I’ll work on this.” She gave him clear instructions, and he followed them with a thrill after begging for supervision: Marinette was very like Ladybug when she ordered him around.

“Will they be alright for tomorrow’s party?” He asked after nearly an hour of grueling work, as she kicked him aside to perform the final steps herself. She looked very cute with her mouth pinched in concentration and covered in butter and almond flour and lilac colour.

“Yes,” she nodded. “Macarons actually are better a couple days later – because they’ve had time to set.” She looked very satisfied with her work, which made her even more beautiful, in his opinion. And that had seemed impossible only a couple seconds ago. “Adrien? Are you okay? You’re staring.”

He started. “I’m fine. Just, er. . .” He was not saying what he had actually been thinking. “Just wondering if we’ll sign these as a joint present!”

That had not been what he’d meant to say.

Marinette stiffened. She clearly understood the implication – only couples typically gave joint gifts. “I’m going to put these in the refrigerator,” she said hurriedly.

“You do that,” he replied, disheartened. Then he went up and took a tray because he was a gentlecat and he couldn’t let his Princess do all the work.

“Why did you want to go to Bianca’s with me?” Marinette lasted only two minutes before giving in and asking.

“Because—” Adrien’s heart felt like it was thumping out of his chest. “Because I wanted to.”

Her face fell, and she turned to hide it. “Another work dinner?”

“What?” He asked, bewildered. “Marinette – I asked because I wanted to be with you. Work was an excuse. As long as it was with you, I don’t really care what we define that as.”

She nodded as though vindicated. “So. . . You want to go out as friends.” It wasn’t a question.

“No! I mean yes! I mean, maybe!” She stared at him in befuddlement. “If you want to go as friends, we’ll go as friends, obviously.”

“Obviously,” she repeated dully.

Adrien was oblivious, he knew that, but certain things fell in place as he watched her turn to take another tray in. How she always had cautious hope right before asking and it crumbled when he hedged his bets to keep the friendship of the love of his life.

Yes, she’d been upgraded.

Adrien took a deep breath, reminded himself he was a hero and saviour of Paris, and threw caution to the wind. He stormed over, took the tray from her hands, very much to her astonishment, and kissed her straight on the lips – no mistaking.

She gasped. He wrapped his hands around her waist slowly when she didn’t pull back, and dragging her in where her arms circled his neck. It was sweet, it was clumsy, it was beautiful, it was messy.

It was Marinette. It was perfect.

They parted, breathing heavily.

For all of Adrien’s angsting and moaning and bitching these past days, this was a rather quick resolution.

Then the doubts entered.

“So, you – you do like me romantically then?” He whispered before he thought better of it.

She laughed, sounding bewildered. “Adrien – I’m in love with you!”

He gasped. Her eyes widened, as though she had just realized what she’d said. “I love you too,” he said hurriedly before she could take it back. It settled into his heart as the truth. “I mean. There were others. Kagami. Luka. Definitely Ladybug. But it’s you. It was always you.”

She laughed dazedly, tracing his cheekbone with her thumb. He wanted to mewl and nuzzle into it. “Same for me. Luka. Kagami. Chat Noir. But – ever since college, ever since the umbrella, it’s been you.”

His heart skipped a beat at the mention of his alter ego. But there were more important things. “That long?” He asked in sheer shock, head spinning. That someone loved him that long – boring, polished Adrien Agreste. It was unthinkable.

“That long,” she replied quietly, and he couldn’t help it: he leaned in and kissed her again.

“Out of the kitchen!” Came a bellow, and both of them jumped apart, frenzied. M. Dupain was half glowering, half smiling, which was weird, and frankly, intimidating. “I’m glad you’re finally together, but honestly! Not in my kitchen.”

“Dear, what is going—” Marinette’s mother poked her head in and gasped in shocked pleasure. “I believe I win our bet.”

M. Dupain sighed theatrically and muttered something under his breath. “Shoo! Shoo! Out you go! No losing me my bet and defiling my kitchen!”

“I cannot believe my parents bet on us!” Marinette was saying furiously. “I’m going to kill them—”

“Don’t,” he said quickly, not wanting to get arrested and ruin the best day of his life (sorry Plagg, this one wins. Hands down.) “It’s fine. Really. It’s sweet, honestly.”

Marinette stopped pacing and threw him an exasperated look. “No, it’s not. Only you would think that.” But her tone and face were endeared.

“I am one of a kind,” he said in an attempt at Chat Noir flippancy.

“Of course you are,” she said softly, and the defenses fell away as she kissed him.

“So,” he said when they came up for breath. “We’re together now, right? Officially? We’re going to give the macarons to Rose jointly? And go for dinner at Bianca’s?” A thousand terribly cheesy ideas for romantic dates swirled in his head, and he waited for her response, heart in throat even after all this.

She smiled, and it was her beaming smile, brighter than the sun, sweeter than the sweetest taste on earth, lovelier than the moon, kindness and childhood and love all at once. “Of course.”

[merlinsbudgiesmugglers]

Wait a Minute

@fluffbruary Day 1: Velvet

Of course I had to start with Tedromeda.

Read on AO3

Ted couldn’t believe it. He couldn’t drag his eyes away from her. Ten little fingers and ten little toes, the cutest little nose he’d ever seen. Skin so delicate and smooth, like velvet under his fingers, and a head full of soft, brown hair just like her mother's. 

He never thought he could love someone this much, never thought he would feel his heart grow the moment he met another person.

But here she was, barely an hour old and she already had him wrapped around her little finger.

He wouldn’t have it any other way.

Ted looked at Andromeda, who was smiling sleepily at them. Leaning over to kiss her softly, he took her hand in his.

‘You did brilliantly,’ he told her for the third time since their little girl had arrived, blinking angrily at the world around her.

‘So you’ve said,’ she replied, still smiling as her gaze fell on their daughter, little Nymphadora.

Eyes slipping shut, Andromeda drifted off to sleep, overwhelmed by exhaustion from the long and hard labour. 

Ted looked down at his daughter again, wanting to enjoy these quiet moments with her before he had to share her with the rest of the world. Her ten little toes and her beautiful blonde hair that was just like his.

Wait a minute.

‘Andromeda!’

[thelazyecrivain]

Fluffbruary - Day 24 (Art)

Day twenty-four of @fluffbruary, using the prompt "art"

This is a sequel to His artwork written for the first day of fluffbruary!

Read on AO3

French Version

---

John enters the shop and is greeted by soft music, paintings of all styles hanging and posed everywhere. Two young people were talking behind the counter, stopping their conversation when they noticed him. The young woman stepped aside to let the young man do his work. 

"Hello, how can I help you?" 

"John Watson, I had made an appointment."

The young man searched his notebook in front of him before he came across his name and the time he had booked.

"It's for a portrait."

It wasn't a question but John nodded.

"It'll be with Nell." He explains, pointing to the person he was just talking to. Nell held out her hand and John shook it. 

"Hello, John. May I call you John?" Nell asked. She knows how to put people at ease, her easy smile and casual posture. Used to professional relationships, John struggled to answer her question but managed to return her friendly smile and answer. "Very good, John. I'm Nell, I'll be the artist who does your portrait." She said before accompanying him to a room at the back. The room is large, paintings but also decorations everywhere, the white floor mottled with paint, a blank canvas placed on an easel, and a seat in the middle of the room. "Before we begin, I would like to point out that I use the pronouns they and them. I would ask you to respect it. And what are yours?"

John looked at her, blinking, completely lost. The young wom-  person? understood his lack of understanding.

"Do you use she/her, he/him, they/them, or some other pronouns?"

John understood. "He. I use he/him." It's not every day he gets asked this kind of thing. John feels old in front of these young people and their new things. He's probably only ten years older than they are, but it feels so big now.

Nell smiles, "Great. I have a few more questions for you before we start." John wonders what their questions are, and they smile as they see the panic on his face. "Nothing incomprehensible, I promise." They laughed. "I just want to know why you want to do this portrait, in what context. If as a gift, to whom and why. If you have an idea of what you want to do, if you have a particular request. Something I absolutely must put in the painting. Tell me and I'll tell you if I can make it happen."

"Oh, um. It's for an anniversary. I've been with my... boyfriend for two years." He hesitated. It seemed so childish to say boyfriend. "My partner." They nodded. "We met in a museum, and I've been telling him ever since that he's my work of art." He said, blushing. Nell smiled tenderly. "So for our one year anniversary he gave me a painting of his. Our two-year anniversary is in a fortnight and I'd like to do the same."

"That's lovely, it's rare to get a gift like that."

John shrugs. "He kind of made it clear to me that's what he wanted."

"John Watson, you are the most beautiful piece of art."

"As I understand it, I have to have my portrait done for next year." 

"I hoped so." 

John smiled at the memory. 

"Do you have an idea, a wish for your portrait?" Nell asks, cutting him off in his reverie.

"Not really. I don't know much about art, I trust you."

Iel nods, then runs their eyes over the various settings, a look of concentration on their face. "Here's what I propose. A single background, no scenery. Just you on the painting. I'd like it to look like it was a spur of the moment shot, no posing. Nothing superficial."

John found it hard to imagine. He doesn't have a visual memory. Fortunately, Nell knows how to help him understand. They pull him to the middle of the room, in front of the easel, and sit him on a stool. They put him in profile, turning his face to the blank canvas and asking him to look away, not at a fixed point. He tries to follow their instructions and this seems to convince Nell as they nod, satisfied, and take out their phone to take a picture.

They showed him the picture and in the picture he looked serene, looking at something in the distance. It looks natural. John agreed wholeheartedly.

They set him up properly, told him to keep his coat on so that it would look like the picture was taken outside, and also to make his face stand out more easily with the dark colour of the clothing. Nell even had the idea of setting up a light above him to give a shiny effect on his blond hair.

"For the style of the painting, you asked for something realistic. What I'm proposing is that we keep this style, but that we can still see that it's a painting, that the brushstrokes look soft to the eye, almost smooth." Nell explains while showing him another painting in the same style.

John agrees, trusting them completely with this kind of choice. They are the professionals, not him. Nell told him that if he needed a break, to eat or drink, or if he started to cramp, he should not hesitate to ask, and they started to paint.

They talked from time to time, the other man - named Marvis - sometimes coming to see them, bringing things to Nell or John, talking to the doctor to distract him and make the time pass more quickly. He told them about his meeting with Sherlock, and they both gave an "awwww" in unison when he told them about the gift he had received the year before, showing a picture of the painting. He put it as a wallpaper, saving him the trouble of carrying the painting with him always

After five hours of painting, John is finally able to move, Nell promising to finish the details within a week and that it will be ready for their anniversary. John thanks them warmly and goes home, eager to give it to Sherlock.

***

"Sherlock?" Calls John as he walks into the flat. He's just spent eight hours nursing colds and coughs and all he wants is to spend the evening with his detective and celebrate their two years together.

"In the kitchen!"

John smiles, smelling the good aroma coming from the kitchen. He walks in to find the table set like a five-star restaurant, Sherlock at the stove with an apron around his waist, protecting his aubergine shirt. John's favourite.

John comes up behind Sherlock, wrapping his arms around his waist and resting his head against his shoulder. 

"Did you have a good day?"

John mumbled a reply, letting himself be rocked by the movements of his shoulder. Sherlock turned in his arms to face him.

"I was looking forward to going home." He said as he slid between Sherlock's legs to press himself against him. They were almost the same size this way. "But I didn't expect to find this," he gestured to the table and the small plates Sherlock had lovingly prepared, "and to see you in an apron. I think it suits you very well. It hugs your waist." He said suggestively, sliding his hands against the fabric to support his words. 

Sherlock smiles, "Should I keep it?" Sherlock teases. He knows John likes his shirt

" Certainly not, we can't see your shirt!" He slides his hands down his back, finding the knot and removing it. He keeps his eyes in Sherlock's, biting his bottom lip to stop himself from smiling. He can see Sherlock's eyes shining with mischief, letting him. 

No sooner does the knot come undone than Sherlock removes the apron and tosses it haphazardly behind John. John laughed as lips cut him off. John tightened his grip behind his back, hands encircling his face. Slowly they kissed and when John wanted to deepen the kiss, Sherlock pulled away. John wanted to wipe the grin from his lips.

"Later." Sherlock promised with a wink before pulling away from him. "You have to taste what I've done. I didn't spend three hours cooking for it to end up in tupperware at the bottom of the fridge."

John shook his head, unable to stop his smile from forming. He settled down and together they enjoyed the food.

It was after dessert that John stopped Sherlock with a hand on his arm when he wanted to start clearing away.

"I have a surprise for you." 

(continue after the cut)

Sherlock said nothing and watched him go off to his old room to get the gift. He widens his eyes when he comes back down with it, John having no doubt that he's already deduced what he's getting him. It's pretty obvious, and John isn't even disappointed that he's figured it out before he's even unwrapped it. 

"Did you really do it?" Sherlock breathes. He stands up, walking over to him.

John nods his head. "It took me a while to find an artist with a style I liked."

Sherlock says nothing and begins to unpack it without further ado. Two weeks after posing for Nell, John came to pick it up and didn't hide his amazement at the work the artist had added after their meeting. Sherlock shared this wonderment when he saw the painting.

John is depicted as they had discussed with Nell, a black background, all in a realistic style while showing that it is a painting. Exactly as they had concluded.

Sherlock stares at it for about thirty seconds, before balancing the painting against a chair and thanking John appropriately.

"It's beautiful." He sighs between kisses. "You're beautiful."

John can feel his cheeks turning pink. He slowly pulls him towards the bedroom and Sherlock gets the message.

"The table..."

"Tomorrow." John growled.

Sherlock didn't need to be told again and pushed John convincingly towards the bedroom when he abruptly cut off their kiss. It took John a while to regain his composure and he wanted to grab Sherlock to keep him against him as he left.

Sherlock took the painting, and brought it with him to the room. John understood what he wanted to do. He watched him set up the painting next to his own with a tender smile. When it was finished, Sherlock returned to his side, his arms around his waist, his head resting on his shoulder. 

"What are we doing next year?" John asks, trying to keep control of his body as Sherlock begins to kiss him on the neck.

"We could do a painting of the two of us." Says Sherlock in the crook of his ear, making John shudder. "Or..."

Sherlock didn't finish his sentence, and John, curious as to what he meant, turned in his arms, attacking his neck in turn. "Or?"

"What do you say we get out your military uniform again?" 

John steps away from him, seeing that Sherlock is serious. He flashes his most seductive smile. "It'll be your wedding present."

"We should get married soon, then. I can't wait to get my present."

John laughed and regained possession of his lips, both falling onto the bed as Sherlock hit the bed

"In return, I want a painting of you only with your dressing gown. Nothing else."

"Deal."

(tell me if you wish to be tagged !) @topsyturvy-turtely @missdeliadili @mxster-jocale

[kayedium-writes]

Fluffbruary: Day Ten

Written for @fluffbruary day ten prompt: neck

MCU / Peggy x Natasha / 100 Words

Natasha’s lips trailed down the back of Peggy’s neck, moving from just behind her ear to the top of her shoulder. A pleasant chill ran through her at the warmth of Natasha’s breath against her flushed skin. She hummed before making a rather undignified noise when Natasha’s teeth marked her ever so gently.

“Everything okay, Captain?” Natasha asked. 

Peggy could hear her smirking, torturously drawing out the moment.

“Oh, shut up and get on with it.”

Without response, Natasha rolled them over until she was straddling Peggy’s hips and leaning over to pin her wrists against the sheets. “Don’t move.”

Read here on AO3!

[thespacelizard]

one apprentice, lightly chilled

@fluffbruary day 26! Ashenivir's in trouble~ up on AO3 here.

In which Ashenivir recieves an icy reprimand.

The cold filled his head so completely it was empty of all thought save the constant, aching chill. Pain throbbed in his temples, yet still he held the icy sliver on his tongue—it radiated cold the way an ember did heat, and had done so ever since Rizeth had placed it in his mouth nearly ten minutes ago.

It might have been longer than that. Ashenivir had lost all ability to keep any track of time.

He shifted in place, flexing his hands around his elbows. He had held his posture all this time, not allowing himself so much as the slightest slouch. This position, which had once been somewhat awkward to maintain, was now a comfort that could carry him through even this most freezing of punishments.

Rizeth snapped his book closed. Ashenivir resisted the urge to look up—he was in enough trouble as it was. He kept his eyes down until his Master lifted his head. Rizeth tapped his lip, and Ashenivir obediently opened his mouth.

“Excellent, the spell still holds,” Rizeth said. “Open wide.”

Ashenivir heaved a sigh of relief as the ice was at last removed from his frozen mouth. He worked his jaw and flexed his tongue, trying to get some semblance of sensation back. He knew he was drooling, though he couldn’t really feel it, and he was too numb to do anything about it. The sight apparently pleased his Master, for he bent and pressed a kiss to Ashenivir’s mouth.

The warmth of his lips was like fire, so hot after the enchanted ice they seemed to burn. Ashenivir whimpered and kissed back as much as he could with his still-chilled mouth. Then Rizeth’s tongue pressed over the place the ice had sat, and it was as though he had placed a hot coal into Ashenivir’s mouth. Ashenivir made a strangled keening sound; the sensation made him dizzier than the ice had, and he swayed in place when Rizeth pulled away.

“Well, Ra’soltha, have you learned your lesson?” Ashenivir nodded, head still swimming. Rizeth held his chin and his gaze, eyes as firm as his fingers. “What are you not going to do?”

It was a struggle to get words from his head to his mouth, let alone to make his abused lips form them.

“I won’t,” he began, slowly, thickly, “touch myself…when you…forbid me.”

“I suspect you will, but I will allow the assertion for now,” Rizeth said. He ran his thumb over Ashenivir’s lip. “Open your mouth.”

“What?”

“You disobeyed three times, Ra’soltha. You have two more to account for. Now,” his voice hardened, “open your mouth.”

Ashenivir did as he was told. He winced as the enchanted ice was set once more upon his tongue; immediately an icy numbness flooded his mouth, and he couldn’t help a pained moan. Rizeth patted his cheek.

“Good boy.”

All the pain transmuted into pride at the words. It still hurt, but it was a precious agony—not pleasure, not even close, but a beautiful kind of suffering. Ashenivir straightened his spine and gripped his elbows tightly. This was what he had earned, and so he would endure.

He saw then the brief, subtle crook of Rizeth’s mouth, the almost-smile of his Master’s approval, and his resolve strengthened. Rizeth patted his cheek again, then returned to his desk. Ashenivir lowered his head and let his gaze go soft as he fell back into the frozen fog of the ice.

He would endure. And perhaps if his endurance pleased his Master well enough, Rizeth would reward him afterwards, because Ashenivir could think of several more enjoyable things his Master could do to him with ever-frozen ice.

[lawful-evil-novelist]

Friend in the Night Market

I wanted to do something with my original works for the 27th @fluffbruary prompt, so I ended up doing something with Aydın and Tzivya.

---

Samsava, like most cities, didn’t go quiet after sunset, especially at this time of year.  With Bakire’s Night only a few days away, most northern traders wanted to get their business in the city done and over with before the hot summer months hit, and in Samsava, that meant trading well into the night.

As the sun slipped below the horizon, strings of glass lamps hanging over the souk lit up like the stars, but the streets grew more difficult to navigate as people crowded the stalls.  Tzivya could’ve sworn she knew how to get back to her caravan’s stall, but she couldn’t see the rich embroidered blankets that hung from it anywhere along the line, and her stomach growled as she searched the crowds.  She wanted to go home now, back to the desert where there weren’t so many people and she could kick off her boots and feel the warm sand between her toes.

Tzivya paused near a corner, wrapping her kaftan around her a little tighter and trying to peer over the crowds.  She couldn’t find anything, and her stomach still growled urgently.  She wandered to one side absently, trying to get a better view.

A strong hand grabbed Tzivya by the scruff of her neck and pulled her back just as a cart tumbled along.  The same hand clapped her on the shoulder and became a firm grip.

“You’re a long way from your family, little deer,” a soft voice remarked, prompting Tzivya to turn back, surprised.  She knew that voice.

“Aydın?” she narrowed her eyes, for the man behind her hid his features with his hood.  Aydın was just as wolf-lean and his Cazadorian leather looked about the same, but she couldn’t be sure, lots of swords for hire in Samsava wore black Cazadorian leather and had lean builds.

“Am I that obvious?” Aydın lowered his hood, grinning his stupid crooked smile.  “You get lost again?”

Tzivya pulled a face.  Hitting the nail on the head, as usual.  She couldn’t even turn it around on him and point out some time Aydın got lost in the desert.  The only time she’d ever seen him stranded, someone had left him for dead.  Aydın smirked and looped his arm around Tzivya’s elbow, leading her through the crowds.

“It’s not funny,” Tzivya protested.

“I knew my way around the souk when I was ten, Tzivya,” Aydın replied.  “You’re almost twice that and ended up on the other side of the market.”

“You also grew up here,” Tzivya reasoned.

Aydın shrugged and veered over to a street stand where they were selling meat being turned on a spit.  He glanced back at Tzivya before speaking to the man.

“What are your honest thoughts on kokoreç?” he asked.

Tzivya looked between the spit-roasted meat and Aydın, “Are you offering me food?”

“I mean you got lost,” Aydın shrugged, “might as well sample the local food as compensation.”

“I can make kokoreç myself, over a cooking fire.”

“Yeah but can you get it diced on bread with red onions?” Aydın asked.  “Without doing any of the work.”

Tzivya narrowed her eyes at Aydın, who grinned back.

“That’s what I thought,” he nodded, then turned back to the stall to order.

Tzivya glanced back at the market and stared up at the lamps, watching them shimmer and shine like tangible stars, close enough to touch.  They lit the whole market in a stunning array, she always loved it with the awnings draped across buildings.

“You know it got way harder to pickpocket in the market when the mages put those up,” Aydın remarked as he returned, handing her a roll of bread stuffed with kokoreç and other vegetables.  “I mean I still managed it but–”  Aydın took a bite of his roll and shrugged.

Tzivya bit into her roll and let the spices and savory meat settle in her mouth and stick between her teeth.  It wasn’t exactly like they made it in her caravan, but that didn’t make it any less good.

“Ever tried to take one?” she asked.

“I tried once,” Aydın nodded.  “They’re full of pure starlight; I burned my hand.”

“Oh,” Tzivya resisted the urge to pout.  She’d forgotten light magic was still pure light, and therefore produced heat.  She had no experience with that kind of magic; no one in her caravan really used it.

“See that one there?” Aydin pointed to one, which glowed a little dimmer than the rest.  “That’s the one I grabbed.  I was so startled I knocked it a little askew.  It’s never been as light since.”

“Huh,” Tzivya chewed her next bite slowly, then looked at Aydın.  “How old were you?”

“Thirteen,” Aydın smiled. “I already knew light magic produced heat.”

“Spectacular.”

“Yep,” Aydın took another bite from his roll and linked arms with Tzivya again, leading her through the streets back to her family.  Tzivya didn’t even mind the packed dirt under her feet or the throngs of people anymore.  She felt safe with a friend.

[tj-dragonblade]

Tagged by @virgo-dream, @landwriter, @chaosheadspace, @wordsinhaled, @littledreamling, @quillingwords and @mathomhouse-e dear lord everyone has been busy today (and thank you!)

Rules: share the first lines of ten of your most recent fanfics and tag ten people. If you have written fewer than ten, don’t be shy and share anyway. This feels a little silly when all of these are less than a month old but on the other hand, holy shit look how much I've written in the last month this is amazing!

===== Fluffbruary Feb 27-28, the Pining Dream on the Subject of Friends fic 'Friend', Hob has named him; has so named him for most of their acquaintance, and Dream is pleased to be thought of thus. It means companionship, shared stories, laughter and affectionate insolence, a shoulder to lean on when the weight on his own grows heavy.

Fluffbruary Feb 23-26, the Slutty Seductive Dream fic Hob doesn't quite notice, right away, when he gets home.

Fluffbruary Feb 18-22, the Thessaly Breakup fic When Dream first tells Hob he's got a girlfriend ('courting', was actually what he called it, which sounded so much more refined), Hob is surprised. Happy for him, sure, but very surprised.

Fluffbruary Feb 17, the Time Works Different in the Dreaming ficlet 'Yesterday' is a concept far more applicable to the waking world than to the Dreaming, as is 'tomorrow'. Time is measured differently; changes from day to night happen with the same unfixed whims as changes in the weather.

Fluffbruary Feb 16, the Hob-In-Glasses ficlet "Hob Gadling. You wear spectacles?"

Fluffbruary Feb 15, the Dream Knows When to Use His Words ficlet Dream can be vague. Is very skilled at being vague, actually.

Fluffbruary Feb 14, the Teaching Hob to Summon Dream and not set himself on fire ficlet "Hob." This was absolutely worth putting up as a first line, I'm sorry

Fluffbruary Feb 10-13, the Drunken Confession fic "Ohhhh, no. Nope. Uh uh," Hob enunciates, carefully, when Dream has maneuvered them to the foot of the stairs. "Not bloody likely."

Fluffbruary Feb 6-7, the ~Spicy Omelettes~ fic "You're just in time! Here, try this."

Fluffbruary Feb 4, the Dueling Daydreams fic "What's wrong, love?" =====

I haven't been on Tumblr at all today rip me but I know this has been everywhere so if you've already done this, please feel free to tag me on the existing post so I can go snooping at your lines, thank you. Tagging: @pellaaearien, @esperata, @zalia, @sunshines-fabulous-legs, @sonata-ix, @issylra, @notallsandmen, @honeyteacakes, @violetequus8, @teejaystumbles