A/N: Banner and divider by me. Event and prompts by @flufftober. Written and edited on my phone; any and all mistakes are my own.
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James Barnes is like a brother to you.
No, really.
You’ve been best friends with his younger sister, Rebecca, for as long as you can remember, and during that time, he’s done nothing but be an annoying bother like he’s your own flesh and blood.
And yet, you went to him anyway.
Your friends set you up on yet another a blind date—probably the fifth in as many months—and past experiences have always been terrible. Either it seemingly goes well and you never hear from him again, or he wrongly assumes he’ll be coming inside…and you never hear from him again.
There’s no way you’re the problem, you refuse to believe it.
Meanwhile, Bucky has a reputation, one that you’ve witnessed first hand to be accurate—a gigantic flirt and quite the way with the ladies. But when he finds someone he really likes, he’s sweet and charming, ever the doting boyfriend.
So you did the only thing you could think of and asked him for advice.
“Me?” he asks incredulously. “Why do you want my advice?” You found him in the kitchen of the Barnes household, rummaging through the cabinets for something to eat.
A sigh escapes your lips as you lean against the counter, arms crossed over your chest as your foot taps impatiently. “First dates are apparently not my forte, and blind dates make them even worse.”
Bucky munches on a small stack of stale crackers he found, looking at you for a moment as though he’s thinking about it seriously.
“Have you tried loosening up?”
“Bucky!” You punch him in the arm.
“Ouch!” he exclaims, rubbing where you hit him. “I didn’t mean it like that, damn.”
“I’m not the problem. I’m fun.”
Bucky quirks an eyebrow at you like he doesn’t believe you, which just makes you huff in annoyance.
“Okay, first—you being ‘fun’,” he says with air quotes, “is not going to solve everything. You have to loosen up a little. Relax. Flirt. Be yourself—“
“I am myself,” you say, cutting him off.
Bucky rolls his eyes. “Men are simple minded creatures,” he continues. “You may not be to blame, but they do tend to have only one thing on their minds.” He shrugs, as though that solved all your problems.
You look at him for a moment, frowning slightly.
“That doesn’t help,” you mutter, gaze dropping to the floor.
“Look. You’re a great girl,” Bucky says, voice low as he places a hand on your shoulder. Your eyes slowly raise to meet his again. “Men are dumb. If they can’t see how amazing, smart, beautiful, and funny you are, that’s their loss. You’ll find someone someday who will appreciate you for who you are. Until then, don’t settle. And if that means going on terrible dates until you find him, then so be it.”
You’re quiet for a moment, absorbing his words. “Thanks, Buck,” you say softly. He pats your shoulder before dropping it back to his side.
“Don’t mention it,” he says before adding, “It might ruin my reputation if people knew I cared.”
You roll your eyes and laugh. “How does Rebecca put up with you?”
levi x reader / slowburn / friends to lovers / modern au / sfw / 203 w.
⟡ — @flufftober (alt 6)
levi wasn’t exactly the type to do “dates.” when he asked you out, it was blunt, almost careless—“dinner. tomorrow.” but when you met him outside the little café, he was already there, standing stiffly in a dark button-up, like he’d actually put thought into it.
the first fifteen minutes were quiet. you talked, he listened, occasionally giving curt replies. you worried maybe he regretted asking you at all.
then the waiter brought tea, and everything shifted. levi relaxed, fingers curling around the cup, and for the first time his gaze lingered on you instead of the window.
“you’re nervous,” he said flatly, though there was no judgment in it.
“so are you,” you countered.
his lips twitched—almost a smile. after that, the conversation flowed easier. you teased him about his straight posture, he rolled his eyes when you nearly spilled your drink, but he never once looked away from you.
by the time the night ended, he walked you home without being asked, hands stuffed in his pockets. at your door, you hesitated, unsure if he’d even want to kiss you goodnight.
but then his hand brushed yours, tentative, lingering. “second date?” he asked, eyes steady on yours.
Summary: Sephiroth takes Bianca to Mama Leone’s Café under the guise of monitoring SOLDIER morale, only to end up sharing an unexpectedly tender evening together.
Pairing: Bianca Moore(f!oc) / Sephiroth
Other Characters: Mama Leone (minor), Zack Fair (mentioned)
Possible Trigger Warnings: eating issues, food mention, implied past trauma, mild language, suggestive themes
Possible Tropes: canon divergence, domestic fluff, established relationship, hurt comfort, slice of life, subtle romance, supernatural bond, tender moments, Sane!Sephiroth, Pre-Fall!Sephiroth
Author’s Note: This piece was created for @flufftober, prompt Day 27 and also for alt 6 (First Date), It is also for Sephiroth Week hosted by @week-of-silver-winds, prompt: Day 5 (Angel). Mama Leone’s café comes up a couple times in the Redemption!AU, as well as the fast food restaurant, Stampy’s. Mama Leone is named after one of my favorite Billy Joel songs: Movin’ Out. After the heavy fics last weekend, this depicts their first date: accidental date.
The lights of Sector Five's evening spilled across the street like diluted amber, reflecting on the glinting hoods of Shinra transport and civilian vehicles. Inside Mama Leone’s Café, time seemed to pause: a relic sealed behind a door that still jingled with a tiny brass bell.
Linoleum floors gleamed pale green under soft fluorescents. The faint hum of a jukebox filled the empty air with a slow, dreamy tune from an era no one remembered.
Sephiroth had chosen the booth in the far corner: half for privacy, half because he could see every entrance from there. Bianca slid into the seat opposite him.
Her wings folded close in neat precision. Her red SOLDIER turtleneck clung to her shoulders, the color vivid against her porcelain skin. A single indigo strand of hair escaped the white ribbon binding her ponytail, curling over her cheek.
She had skipped another meal. He had noticed the subtle tremor in her hand when she reached for her water after drills. The faint haze in her eyes that always came from low blood sugar, a sign that he had been read many times with her. When he suggested dinner under the excuse of monitoring SOLDIER morale, she’d smiled—too knowingly—and agreed.
Now, she traced invisible patterns on the table with a long nail, the faint metallic click against the surface in time with the jukebox.
“You didn’t have to drag me here, you know,” she murmured, her lips curving into one of the softest smiles he had seen from her. “You could’ve just told me to eat something.”
Sephiroth leaned back. The black coat shifted like a ripple of night. The silver pauldrons caught the low light, and a single thread of his long hair slipped forward, bright as molten glass against the darkness of his attire. “And you would have listened?”
Bianca grinned, showing the faint glint of fangs between her plush, candy-colored lips. “Probably not.”
The corners of his mouth twitched. That, too, was predictable.
Mama Leone herself waddled out from the kitchen: a round, gray-haired woman with flour on her apron and years in her eyes and the wrinkles around them.
“Ah, look who’s come back,” she said, smiling warmly. “The pretty couple. Haven’t seen you two in months. Read the shy SOLDIER boy finally got over his shyness and proposed to his pretty little angel.”
Bianca’s eyebrows shot up. Sephiroth’s hand froze mid-motion with the menu.
Bianca answered before he could. “We, uh, yes, that happened.” Her tone was playful, almost sweet like cream. “He’s very traditional. You know, papers and all that.”
The other woman chuckled. “I knew it! Told my sister, ‘Those two. They’ve got that look. Like they belong together.’ Been watching you two dance around each other for years.” She waved her order pad. “Now, what’ll it be tonight? Same as always?”
Sephiroth gave a small nod. “For her. Cheeseburger with extra bacon, no onions, tomato and lettuce. Mayo. Fries with gravy. And a strawberry malt milkshake.”
Bianca blinked. “You remembered that?”
“I remember many things.” His tone was quiet, nearly impersonal, but his gaze lingered briefly on the curve of her lips.
Under the table, the Red Thread stirred. A faint shimmer, like heat rising off sand, pulsed between their wrists. Its light caught the edge of her thigh-high boots, gleamed once, and then settled.
Bianca leaned her chin on her hand. “Do you also remember that I hate blue food and always steal your fries?”
His gaze softened. “I’ve endured worse.”
“Such devotion,” she teased. “How romantic.”
He exhaled, almost a sigh, though it carried the faintest echo of a laugh.
When the plates arrived, the café smelled of melted cheese and grilled bread. The gravy steamed in soft curls, as she poured it over the fries. She immediately stabbed a clump of fries with her fork, humming her approval before eating.
She ate with a hunger she’d deny later, as if every bite reminded her body of something forgotten.
Sephiroth didn’t touch his own plate for a moment. He just watched how she bit her lower lip when thinking, how the end of the white ribbon at her nape trembled with each small movement of her wings. When she finally noticed his stillness, she paused mid-bite.
“What?” Bianca asked.
“You’re underweight again,” he said, matter of fact but quieter than usual.
Bianca rolled her eyes, but gently. “You sound like that new 2nd Class from Gongaga.”
“I doubt he takes your health as seriously.”
“Mm, depends on the day.” She smirked. “He’s started telling jokes during drills, you know. Absolutely terrible ones. Said the other day, ‘What do you call a chocobo with no feathers?’”
He raised an eyebrow. “I’m almost afraid to ask.”
“Dinner,” she deadpanned and burst into laughter.
It startled him. Not the sound itself. He had heard her laugh before, but the ease of it. Months had passed since it had sounded so unguarded, like sunlight breaking through the cracks. Against his better judgment, his own lips curved.
The Red Thread flared faintly again. His pulse answered her pulse.
They talked about small things then: the smell of rain over Midgar and the sound of it hitting the Plate, a piece of music she’d been learning on the old piano in their apartment, and the antics of her fellow 2nd Class comrades trying to impress her with sword tricks. The world outside—missions, Shinra, and the weight of their upcoming nuptials—faded to something almost ordinary.
When Mama Leone returned to check on them, she clucked her tongue at the half-empty milkshake glasses.
“You two are perfect together,” she said. “You remind me of my husband and me, when we were your age. Always sneaking glances and pretending it’s business.”
Bianca’s face warmed. Sephiroth caught the faint flush rising in her cheeks.
“Thank you, Mama Leone,” Bianca said softly.
The woman winked and went back behind the counter, humming along with the jukebox.
For a long time, neither of them spoke. The hum of the lights filled the pause. Outside, thunder grumbled somewhere above the upper plate.
“Do you ever think about what it’d be like,” she asked quietly, as she tapped a rhythm against her cup, “if none of this had been Shinra’s doing? If we’d met like normal people do? If I were a not an angel and you were not . . . the Demon of Wutai?”
Sephiroth’s eyes flicked toward her: sharp, luminous cyan beneath his lush, black lashes. “Normal is a construct, Bianca.”
“Mm. You’d still hate small talk, I think.” She smiled faintly. “But you might have liked the idea of choosing someone, instead of being told.”
He considered that. “I did choose.”
Her gaze softened at that, and for a heartbeat, her wings unfurled just slightly: an involuntary gesture. Her feathers glinted indigo and black under the fluorescent light. The Red Thread tightened, a slow pulse that beat in sync with his own heart.
Bianca leaned forward, resting her forearms on the table. “You know, if you keep saying things like that in public, people will think you’re sentimental.”
“Then perhaps I’ll have to maintain the illusion,” he said.
“Such a dangerous mission, Mr. 1st Class.” Her grin widened. “I’ll help you keep up appearances.”
He looked down at the thread between them. Its faint glow brushed the edge of his glove. “You already do.”
She bit her lip again, a habit he had catalogued long ago from their time on the R&D floor and labs, and looked out the window. The jukebox changed songs, a soft trumpet and a deep, masculine voice crooning a melody from another century.
Bianca sighed, tracing her fingertip through a ring of condensation on the table from the evening's chilly air. “It’s nice,” she murmured. “Just being here. No mission. No paperwork. Just this.”
Sephiroth followed her gaze, then reached across the table. His hand stopped just shy of hers: an old habit, the ingrained caution. She noticed. Of course she did. Without ceremony, she slid her fingers forward until they brushed his.
Her hand was warm. The Red Thread flared between their wrists, its heart-shaped pattern around their wrists glowing steady and strong.
“You’re allowed to touch me, you know,” she whispered, smiling without looking up.
He let out a slow breath, gathering strength. The air heavy and thick with the scent of malt, beef, and grease. Then he turned his hand palm-up, letting her fingers rest there fully.
The warmth between them deepened and became as steady as the heartbeat that pulsed through that fragile, unbreakable thread.
Outside, above the Plate, the storm grew louder. Inside, the world held its breath. Bianca leaned closer, lowering her voice. “You think Mama Leone’s watching?”
“She watches everything.”
“So, we should at least pretend to be in love,” she said, teasing, but her thumb brushed his hand, tender as prayer. She never pushed past his comfort level.
Sephiroth’s gaze held hers. For once, he didn’t correct her.
The jukebox crooned its last note. And under the small, flickering light of Mama Leone’s, the Angel of Shinra and the Silver SOLDIER sat in a silence that felt almost like peace. Two souls bound by thread through every world in the Lifestream were caught between duty and something gentler that neither dared to name.
When they rose to leave, Mama Leone called from behind the counter, “You two come back soon, you hear? Love’s good for morale!”
Bianca laughed: the sound warming a part of him that he didn't understand. Her wings rustled softly. “We’ll try, Mama Leone!”
Outside, under the awning, the Red Thread shimmered, glowing faintly where it looped between them, unbroken.
And though Sephiroth would never say it aloud, he thought perhaps Mama Leone was right. Love, in all its inconvenient forms, was excellent for morale.
You didn't think it through, forgetting that the most of the wizarding world had a different perspective on the holiday than the muggle world. It was your first time decorating with Neville after the war, it was all starting to feel normal again, so normal that you didn't think about the implications of the decorations.
"I think someone's trying to kill us." Neville whispered, shaking you awake on a random morning, his face riddled with panic and eyes red with swelling tears.
"What?" You groaned, sitting up quickly and trying to steady the shaking man above you, making sure to spot your wand behind him.
Neville pulled you up, not allowing you to do anything but grab your wand before you were dragged down the stairs, barely stopping yourself from falling. His panicked movements lead the both of you to the front door which had been left open by him.
"Oh! My decorations!" You exclaimed, rushing over to the fake tombstones and bringing them into the house.
As you examined the foam décor, checking for any mistakes in the custom works, Neville stood at the door unmoving yet panic lessening. It took a minute before his view moved from the floor previously holding the fake stones to you at the table with them.
"Decorations?" He mumbled, closing the door behind him as he made his way over to your excited figure.
"Yea! Got custom ones this year aren't they wicked?!"
Once you turned to look at him you realized he was still stunned and the expression was turning into confusion. Looking between his face and the décor with your names on it, the minutes prior started to piece together in your mind.
"Oh my god I'm so sorry." You whispered, walking over to hug Neville out of some mix of embarrassment an shame for causing that level of fear.
"You bought them?" He whispered back, slowly wrapping his arms around you, still tense as you nodded. "You bought gravestones with our names on them?"
"It's a muggle thing." You stepped back, reaching a hand up to his face. "Using fake gravestones to decorate your yard for Halloween, decided to splurge and get custom ones." That got a chuckle out of him, causing you to shake slightly as well.
"Muggles really do that? It's not some crazy wizard trying to threaten us?" Thankfully he spoke with a smile, leaning his face into your hand heavily.
"They do, I should've warned you I am so sorry."
"Should have gotten yours with my last name, make it more realistic."
first date (300 words) by jetplane
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Star Trek, Star Trek: Strange New Worlds (TV)
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Marie Batel/Christopher Pike, Nyota Uhura/Beto Ortegas
Characters: Christopher Pike, Marie Batel
Additional Tags: Nyota Uhura - Freeform, Beto Ortegas - Freeform, First Dates, Cooking, Domestic Fluff, Dadmiral Christopher Pike
Series: Part 7 of flufftober 2025, Part 22 of promptober 2025
Summary:
Captain Pike caters dinner for two different dates.
Flufftober alt prompt 6: first date
Sanemi made it through the doors just in time to escape the clouds ripping apart. He quickly took a few steps into the lobby before he turned around and watched the raindrops hammering against the glass doors as if they were trying to get to him. He shuddered and took another step back, grateful that he had made it to the cinema without getting wet. The weather forecast had not predicted rain and thus, he was decidedly not prepared for it. Which made it two things he was unprepared for, now that he thought about it.
Sanemi took a deep breath and turned around to muster the lobby. It was only dimly lit, perhaps to make the visitors calm down before they headed into the actual cinema hall. At one end of the giant lobby, he could make out a long counter, probably the source of the overwhelming popcorn smell that engulfed him. To both sides of the counter, two hallways led deeper into the insides of the cinema, big signs showing which cinema hall was on which side. At the start of both hallways sat a small stand where a staff member patiently checked the tickets of each person in the queue.
Sanemi instinctively reached into his pocket and ran his finger over the two tickets, just to make sure they were still there. The movie they would see was very popular and thus, he had gotten lucky to snatch two tickets before they sold out.
He contemplated whether he should get some drinks and snacks, but then he scrapped the idea again. He did not know his date well enough – or at all, if he was honest – and thus he had no clue what he liked to eat or drink. His date, what a horrible thought. Even though Sanemi had had a whole night to come to terms with the mess he had gotten himself into, he still could not believe that all of this was happening. He had not expected Giyuu to turn around, to come over, to play along with his stupid lie. But he had and now, Sanemi was in the lobby waiting for Giyuu to show up so that they could watch the movie together. It was entirely surreal, and yet his rapid heartbeat and sweaty palms proved that this was, in fact, real.
The doors opened and with a gust of wind, a group of people were swept into the lobby. They had been cleverer or at least more observant than Sanemi and mostly wore raincoats or carried umbrellas in various colors, making them look like a crowd of walking mushrooms. And among them, he could see a sliver of black hair. His heart skipped a beat and he was torn between casually looking away and staring at the crowd spellbound. But before he could decide on how to act, the group split up and people walked in every direction, leaving only one unmoving.
For a moment, Giyuu just stood there, his dark hair falling into his face, his umbrella dripping onto the floor. Then, he walked to the umbrella stand next to the door, folded his umbrella with unsettling precision, and placed it in the stand. Sanemi watched him, weirdly fascinated by how controlled each movement looked. And before he had the chance to avert his gaze, Giyuu looked up and their eyes locked. Time seemed to freeze and the breath caught in Sanemi’s throat. Helplessly, he watched as Giyuu slowly lifted one hand and brushed a strand of his hair aside. Then, he set in motion and walked over.
“Hi,” Giyuu said when he came to a halt in front of Sanemi. His face did not reveal any of what he thought when he looked at Sanemi expectantly.
Sanemi realized that he had taken too long to answer already and quickly said, “Uh, hi.”
Giyuu looked at him patiently and the longer the awkward pause went on, the more nervous Sanemi felt. He glanced around desperately and noticed a few people heading towards the counter. “Do you want something to eat or drink?” he asked, hoping that Giyuu would say yes and give them something to do.
Giyuu tilted his head and thought about it for a moment. Then, he said, “I’ll have whatever you get. We can share, if you want to.”
Sanemi did not want to but he also did not want to say that out loud, so he just nodded and pushed off the wall, heading for the sanctuary the counter posed, at least temporarily. From the soft footsteps to his right, he could tell that Giyuu was following him like a shadow. Somehow, that made his skin tingle, and he quickly shook the thought off and focused on the big screen that showed which items they offered. Reading the familiar menu posed an anchor that he direly needed now.
“The big bucket of popcorn is cheaper than two smaller ones,” Giyuu said so close next to him that Sanemi almost jumped out of his skin. “The big drink is more expensive though, that’s a bad deal.”
Sanemi nervously looked at him and when the staff member behind the counter cleared their throat, he felt pressured. “Uh, one big popcorn and two medium drinks,” he stuttered before he could think it through.
The employee nodded and started preparing their order while Sanemi fished for his wallet, scrambling to get the money out. Giyuu watched him curiously, then he asked, “Should I pay half?”
Sanemi quickly shook his head. “No, you’re invited,” he said, more to avoid further awkwardness than anything else.
Giyuu’s expression changed ever so slightly, possibly to something resembling gratitude, and he quietly said, “Thank you.”
Then, the employee handed them their popcorn and drinks and while Sanemi paid for them, Giyuu took the ridiculously huge container of popcorn and one drink, waiting patiently for Sanemi to follow him. Together, they made their way to a station on the side where they could fill their cups with a drink of their choice. Since Giyuu did not make a move, Sanemi went first and just chose a random drink to get it over with. And when he stepped back, Giyuu selected exactly the same one, his expression entirely impartial.
“Shall we go in now? The movie starts soon,” Giyuu said, glancing at the queue for the cinema hall.
Sanemi nodded and held back his sigh of relief in the last second. Once they were seated and the movie started, they did not have to talk anymore. That was good since talking very obviously was not Giyuu’s strong suit – and not Sanemi’s either, especially in this situation.
They walked over to the employee checking the tickets, Giyuu awkwardly walking a half step behind Sanemi, still holding the enormous bucket of popcorn. That gave Sanemi one free hand to pull the tickets out of his pocket and show them to the employee who took a look at the tickets and then waved them in. Grateful that he did not have to talk again, Sanemi marched into the hallway and headed for cinema hall number two. He studied the tickets again and memorized which seats in which row they had.
Then, they reached the big door leading into the cinema hall. It was still open, a steady stream of people trickling in. Sanemi followed them, Giyuu staying by his side as if he was glued to his shadow. Even through the chattering that filled the still illuminated cinema hall, Sanemi kept getting distracted by Giyuu’s soft breathing behind him. He kept forgetting the numbers he had just memorized and almost had to give up and check the ticket again, when Giyuu closed the distance between them and nodded to a row a bit higher up with his head.
“It’s that one,” he said, and when Sanemi shot him a surprised look, he shrugged. “I looked over your shoulder when you held the tickets.”
Sanemi blinked and decided to just accept that without questioning it. When he reached the row and looked down at the little fluorescent sign with the row’s number, his memory came flooding back. He had chosen the two seats right next to the stairs. Other people liked sitting right in the middle because that was where you had the best view at the screen. But Sanemi preferred the seats right at the edge. He would never have admitted it to anyone, but he felt deeply uncomfortable when he was surrounded by people with no quick way out.
“These two,” he muttered and pointed at the seats. The row was already filled with people and Sanemi was thankful that they did not have to push past them. Giyuu nodded and waited for a moment. When Sanemi did not move, he slid into the row and elegantly sat down, miraculously without spilling any popcorn.
Sanemi sat down on the other seat and put his drink into his cup holder, following Giyuu’s example. He sighed when he leaned back. The seats were more comfortable than he remembered, it almost felt like sitting in a cloud. At least, if clouds were made from maroon pleather. Without warning, the lights dimmed down and washed the faces around him into moving shadows. When he looked to the side, he could only vaguely make out Giyuu’s pale face. But when the screen came to life and started playing the first advertisement, the light illuminated Giyuu enough for Sanemi to see that Giyuu was holding out the popcorn bucket.
“Want some?” Giyuu asked, his voice barely audible through the loud music booming through the cinema.
Sanemi shook his head. He was not in the mood for popcorn yet, his stomach was still way too restless. It felt surreal to be here, at this time, with this person. Everything moved too fast. He had only met Giyuu two days ago and now they were officially on a date, even though Sanemi had only gone through with this because he did not put it past his friends to stalk the cinema, just to make sure Sanemi had indeed been telling them the truth. So far, he had not spotted them anywhere but that did not mean they were not here.
The advertisements rushed past them, quickly turning into trailers of upcoming films. The loud sounds echoed in Sanemi’s head and slowly, they replaced the thoughts whirling inside him. He rested his head against the chair and let the flashing pictures carry him. While most trailers did not pique his interest, the last few ones did, and he finally allowed himself to look forward to the movie they would watch. He had been planning on watching it anyway, just not under these circumstances. But now that he was here, he could make the best of it.
With a grand finale, the last trailer ended and the last overhead lights turned off, bathing the cinema hall into darkness. Only the screen still emanated a soft glow. For a few seconds, the speakers went silent and Sanemi could hear the people around them whispering excitedly. When he saw movement from the corner of his eye, he turned around and saw Giyuu melting into his chair. He even caught the faintest hint of a content sigh and right now, Giyuu’s face looked soft and open, for once free of his usual indifference. Somehow, the calm mellowed his features, softening the lines of his mouth. And for the first time, Sanemi realized that Giyuu had a beautiful face. His heart fluttered when he stared at him.
Then, Sanemi quickly turned back to the screen when he noticed what he was doing. His heart was still beating faster than usual and to distract himself, he picked up his cup and took a sip of his drink. The crisp sweetness of the soda filled his mouth and while he was still drinking, the movie started. Enticed by the opening music, he let himself get carried away by the movie, losing himself in the vibrant colors. And now that he had started on his drink, he finally felt like he could stomach some popcorn as well.
A glance to the side revealed that Giyuu had set the popcorn bucket down on his knee, tilting it slightly towards Sanemi. And this time, Sanemi took the invitation and reached over, snatching a few bits of popcorn. For a while, they munched away, the movie keeping them on the edge of their seats. And during a slower scene, Sanemi reached for the popcorn again without looking. When his fingers brushed against something warm, his head shot up. In the dark, Giyuu’s face was bathed in shadows, but with each flash of light, he could make out the sparkle in his eyes and the edges of his mouth lifting when Giyuu looked down at the popcorn bucket. When Sanemi followed his gaze, he saw their hands touching.
Giyuu leaned closer and Sanemi froze, too overwhelmed to react. He held his breath when Giyuu’s face hovered right next to his. And when Giyuu spoke, he saw him grin for the first time. “Almost like a real date, it just misses holding hands and making out in the dark.”
Read the full story at:
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Coal Black (Like Her Heart) - Lanfear/Liandrin Guirale
A/N: Alt 6 for @aprilisthecruelestmonth
The marks stand out even now, even with the Aes Sedai healing. Lanfear’s fingers trail over the marks, deep, angry marks that are still coal black despite the hot coals being long gone.
“You were treated… so poorly.”
It's softer than she would usually speak, Lanfear knows that, but there are memories of her own that lurk just as deeply and hurt just as much, so she can’t help being a little fond of the trembling woman in her hands.
“Never again, not now I’m here.”
Later they will settle together, Lanfear doing what she can to tempt the wounds into healing, even as she knows the memories of the hot coals will never heal.
day 18 of flufftober....hehehehe. exciting stuff. roleswap ravioli!! i will probably dig into it a little bit too much, I'm already so excited. !!!!!!!!!
