#slice of life prompts

[alpaca-clouds]

Medieval Writing Prompts - Slice of Life Pt. 1

Recently I realized something: Most fanfiction prompts will assume that a fanfic is set in a semi-modern world. Those prompt lists will usually involve stuff referencing modern technology or modern society. Which sucks for someone like me, who writes mostly historical settings.

So, I asked some friends whether they would be interested in something like this: Fanfiction prompts for historical settings. I will start with medieval - but if the interest is there, I will do other historical settings, too!

Full list under the cut!

Herbal Garden

Visiting the Black Smith

Tending tot he Chickens

Butter Churning

Bath Houses

Fresh Ale

Visiting the Market

Travelling Minstrels

Clear River Water

Time of Sowing

[seaside-writings]

Prompt #1,183

"I love you but get out of my kitchen,"

[iamvegorott]

Dantimadmare with cooking a new recipe!

“Think you can crack an egg with one hand?” Anti asked with curiosity. He and Mad were cracking a few eggs for the new cake recipe Dark wanted to try. He was rarely in a baking mood, so when he was in it, the other three always jumped in to help. Dark was reading the recipe, and Mare gathered more ingredients from the fridge. 

“Maybe?” Mad took the egg, held it in one hand as he tapped it against the glass bowl, and held the shell apart as the insides fell out. 

“There’s no way that shit is that easy.” Anti scoffed and tried to repeat the action but cracked the egg in his hand, getting the goop all over it instead. “Gross.” 

“And this is why we don’t try to show off.” Dark chuckled, heading over with a towel and cleaning off Anti’s hand.

“I wasn’t trying to show off.” Anti pouted. “Mad was able to do it, so I tried.” 

“I got lucky,” Mad said with a shrug, working on picking out the shells from the bowl of eggs. 

“Give yourself a little credit, starlight.” Mare had put everything down and joined the others, kissing Mad’s cheek. 

“I guarantee that if I try cracking the egg again, it will be just as messy.” Mad giggled. 

“Do it, do it, do it!” Anti playfully chanted, even bouncing a little as he did so.

“Calm down, sparky.” Mare laughed, catching Anti by the shoulders. 

“I’ll do it again, but I know it’s not-” Mad had grabbed another egg as he spoke and cracked it against the bowl. He hit it too hard and had an egg-covered hand like Anti. His face soured and turned into a look they all knew very well. 

“I got it.” Dark quickly moved and wiped some of the egg off Mad’s hand as he walked to the sink. He tossed the towel aside and turned the water on, helping Mad wash his hands. He didn’t need to do that, Mad would have done that on his own in a second, but Dark also hated when sudden and unexpected textures touched his hands, and Mad didn’t question or resist when Dark helped him like this. If it had been Dark with gunk on his hands and making that face, Mad, Anti, or Mare would all be doing the same thing to him. 

“You good?” Anti asked after Mad dried his hands with a clean towel.

“Yep, just wasn’t ready, apparently,” Mad said. 

“You’re still getting apology kisses,” Anti said as a warning. 

“You don’t need-”

“Give me that face!” Anti called out and got Mad to yelp after being practically tackled. 

“Anti!” Mad squealed as Anti covered his face in those ‘apology kisses’. 

“Sometimes it’s hard to remember he’s a murderous glitch,” Mare said to Dark. 

“Everyone has some sort of soft spot.” Dark winked at Mare before going back to the recipe. 

-----------

Slice of Life Prompts: Link

[late-nightfalls]

Think about Bruce Wayne trying to do his little girl's hair before she goes to school.

The girl wanted a pretty braid or she wouldn't go to school, no way!

Bruce has no idea how to do this. He's in trouble!

Alfred is not participating! He can't!

Alfred can only watch from afar as Batman faces one of his biggest challenges: Brushing his daughter's hair.

"Boss Bruce, maybe you should ask for help"

"Negative"

He asked for help shortly afterwards.

[call-me-strega]

Dc x Dp Prompt #5: Way of the House Husband AU

I was struck with inspiration: Way of the House Husband but make it Dead on Main (or any other ship you feel like you can make work). One partner is a highly dangerous and powerful figure and the other is just some guy and they’re in love and living a beautiful domestic life even if past annoyances pop up to bother them. The best part is it works both ways for these two. Like imagine Jason’s at the grocery store and runs into a rouge or a gang member or someone from the BatFam but just ignores them. Or Danny wakes up to find one of his rouges at his doorstep for whatever reason and just closes his door and sends them packing. Their both uninterested in returning to a life of crime/crime fighting and just want to live as a happy, peaceful, “normal” couple.

[loveinhawkins]

prompt from @teaspelledbackwards-blog: something featuring sick Steve being taken care of. prompt guidelines

It’s almost like a culture shock, adjusting to normality after everything is over: to not have to leap in front of others with arms outstretched, his whole body tightly coiled; to not have to always be ready to fight.

And most of all, to no longer need to worry about the big, life-threatening things. Even back then, Steve felt like he’d had a lucky escape compared to everything else they were dealing with—sure his bites still stung, but they were only in borderline need of medical attention.

“Borderline?” Eddie had wheezed through the high of morphine when Steve relayed this. “God help us for what your ‘real emergency’ looks like, Harrington.”

So when it’s just a run-of-the-mill day, and Steve’s head is pounding, but it’s not that bad, he powers through. It’s not like it’s pneumonia or anything; it’s not like he’s dying. It just mildly sucks. Well. Maybe more than mildly, but the point still stands.

He doesn’t really think anything of it, until suddenly Robin is pinning him with a shrewd look right in the middle of their shift, eyes briefly narrowing in a way that kinda reminds him of Mary Poppins—if she’d thrown away the nanny career in favour of putting ‘new in’ stickers on VHS titles.

“Let’s swap,” she says authoritatively. “You take your break now, I’ll take mine later, then I can do the closing shift instead.”

“Um, sure, if you—why?”

“You don’t know all the intricacies of my life, Steve! Maybe I need an empty store to practise for my secret opera star dreams. Maybe I’m having a clandestine affair by the light of the shitty computer. Don’t question me.”

She whirls him round and gently taps in between his shoulder blades, pushing him in the direction of the backroom.

He snorts. “All right, all right.”

It’s only when he’s actually stretching out on the threadbare couch that he realises she’d gotten him to distractedly agree while she joked around.

Then it’s like he blinks, and he sleeps right through his thirty minute break. It’s technically forty five minutes by the time he wakes and gets up. He pushes his knuckle briefly against the bridge of his nose as he heads back to the counter, but the ache still remains.

Robin doesn’t make one crack about Steve’s break running over. She doesn’t even take her own break until there’s no-one in the store, dealing with any of their especially annoying customers herself, including that old man who always insists on having a tangential rant about “kids these days.”

(She’d slid a note over to him halfway through said rant, a scribble in Pig Latin: ‘illkay emay.’ Ducking under the counter to stifle his laughter was a nice temporary distraction from his headache.)

When she does come back from her break, she tosses Steve his jacket and car keys.

Steve stops by the half-open door, stares her down. “Are you sure? I can—”

She rolls her eyes. “Oh my god, go. The literal only plan I had was watching a rerun of Headline Chasers with my dad.”

“But.” He clears his throat, and Robin’s grinning, he knows she’s only teasing, and yet… “But you love Headline Chasers.”

She softens, then sticks out her tongue before replying, “I know.”

And it sounds like I love you more, dingus.

-

He plans to drive straight home, but then he sees Dustin biking into the parking lot, and he stops mid-reverse, winding down his window.

“Thought you were closing?” Dustin says.

“Yeah, I was. Robin swapped with me.”

Dustin hops off his bike, looks Steve up and down. “If I’m, like, five minutes, could you give me a ride home?”

Steve raises an eyebrow. He can count the number of times Dustin’s actually asked that on one hand, used to finding him already in the passenger seat, waiting expectantly.

He shrugs. “Sure. I’ll fit your bike in the trunk.”

True to his word, Dustin is in and out of Family Video in barely even three minutes. Steve smiles when he spots that he’s rented out The NeverEnding Story again.

“Dude, just buy it at this point.”

“But then I won’t get the excellent customer service on offer, Steve.”

“What, Robin insulting you?”

It’s an unusually quiet but not unpleasant car ride. Steve doesn’t risk putting the radio on, the pain travelling until it’s a persistent band of pressure across his forehead, and Dustin, strangely enough, doesn’t complain about the lack of music.

By the time he pulls up to Dustin’s house, it feels like his bones are aching, his skin prickling and sensitive. He tries to suppress a wince as he parks, briefly rubs at one eye.

“Hey, Dustin, do you mind if I don’t—” He falters, not sure how to politely put, Normally I love chatting with your mom, but if I delay getting home any longer, I might scream.

“Yeah, yeah,” Dustin says, already getting out of the car. “Stay there, just a sec!”

And instead of slamming the door as per usual, he gently closes it.

Steve only just resists leaning his head on the steering wheel.

Then Dustin is running out of the house, carrying… Tupperware?

“Mom was baking,” he says when Steve rolls down the window again.

“Oh,” Steve says, taking the box, glancing down to see some chocolate cake. “Thanks, man. I should, uh.” He makes to undo his seatbelt, but Dustin waves him off.

“You’ve thanked her, like, a bunch of times, if you do it anymore she’s gonna ask why I’m not a gentleman like you.”

Before Steve can respond, Dustin’s already at his front door, waving as he shuts it and calling out a casual, “Feel better, Steve!”

But how do you…?

-

Steve knows that Eddie’s in his house by the way that the front mat has been left curled up at the corner from where he’s retrieved the spare key.

He opens the door, sighs in relief at the warmth hitting his skin; Eddie must’ve put the heating on.

“You’re being robbed!” is what he’s greeted with, and Steve chuckles, follows Eddie’s voice to the kitchen, and…

He stops in the doorway.

“You made me dinner,” he says, almost numbly.

Eddie looks over at him from where he’s boiling water on the stove, a jar of pasta sauce by his elbow.

“That’s a kind word for it, but okay.”

“You made me dinner,” Steve repeats, and he has to blink rapidly before he does something stupid like tear up. “Why are you even—did we have plans? Did I forget—”

Eddie smiles warmly at him. “Nah, just passing through,” he says, then laughs when Steve tilts his head, unconvinced. “All right, fine. I might have got a phone call. Actually, two: Buckley got there first, and then Henderson called, gave me shit about the line being engaged, he’s so—”

“You didn’t need to make me dinner,” Steve interrupts. He doesn’t exactly know why it’s this that he’s getting stuck on, but he can’t help it. “I could’ve made dinner.”

Eddie’s smile shifts, turns into something so obviously caring that Steve feels his eyes threaten to burn all over again.

“But I wanted to,” he says. He leans against the counter, eyes flickering over Steve’s face, a gentle kind of surveying. “Besides, you’re not feeling great, right?”

“It’s nothing,” Steve says automatically. “Seriously, I don’t even have a fever. It’s not like I need to go to the doctors or…”

He trails off as Eddie gets closer, kisses him softly on the mouth, then the temple; and there must be a salve on his lips or something, because the awful sensitivity on Steve’s skin feels, just for a moment, like it’s been soothed away.

“Doesn’t need to be the worst thing ever for it to matter, Steve,” Eddie says simply.

Steve affects a huff—Eddie’s always coming out with lines just like that, says it’s the DM’s curse, darling—but he melts against Eddie anyway.

“You use the bow tie shapes?”

Eddie grins, nods triumphantly down at the pot. “Only the very best for you.”

Steve smiles into Eddie’s shoulder. “Dork.”

Tonight he’ll lie on the couch after dinner, Eddie reading with the lamp on low so that it doesn’t hurt his head; will drift off thinking of him, of Robin, of Dustin—knowing that the world doesn’t need to be ending for them to care.

[eleanore-delphinium]

The Voices: Bullies

@jiafei-my-beloved & @djbunnie gave me the bullying idea. Thanks btw!

Then I just borrowed existing kids that are plaguing me. You might see this AU, been working on it for a while.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~

Damian frowned as he stared at his two young children. His daughter had messy hair and his son had scratches. Both their uniforms were disheveled. 

“What happened?” He asked with arms crossed.

The sun had already set and so they stood in a dark hall in their big cold mansion. The children had even come home later than they should have. Which made his wife anxious.

“They called mother crazy.” His daughter carefully confessed.

Damian’s hand flinched and he pressed his lips.

“They pushed her, so I fought back.” His son added.

Damian inhaled sharply, “I will deal with this.”

He studied his six-year-old twins. They were rather mature for their ages, a result of the circumstance of their environment. 

“Your mother–”

“Damian?” Raven’s voice cut him off from finishing his sentence. 

He turned to look at his wife who wore a white long sleeved, floor length silk nightgown. The neckline was low but it was quite conservative. A clothing choice she wore in consideration of their children.

Her eyes flickered at the sight of her young children. 

She was shaking, “What happened?” 

Damian’s lips parted but his daughter cut him off, “We were having too much fun, mother.”

“I tripped.” The son added.

Damian looked at his children, his pensive expression hidden from his wife.

He sighed, “Why don’t you let your mother put some ointment on those wounds son?” He gently urged.

The son nodded and walked to his mother, reaching for her hand. 

Raven quietly accepted his hand and his excuse.

“Why don’t you two sleep with us tonight?” Damian smiled warmly.

Raven looked delighted with the suggestion. Her and her children nodded with smiles on their faces.

Damian approached his wife and cupped her face, “Why don’t you all settle down first while I make a call to their school?”

He patted his children’s head. 

“I will deal with this. You don’t have to worry about anything, beloved.” He kissed her temple. 

She pressed her lips and replied “Alright.”

~.~.~.~.~.~

Raven settled the kids on the bed. She patted her son’s hair while his sister slept on his other side, eyes closed but facing Raven.

She watched them sleep peacefully.

“What really happened?” Her son stirred awake after hearing his mother whisper softly. 

He heard the inaudible whispers that came after, making him open his eyes.

A red figure with white hair almost pressed his lips against his mother’s ear as he told her something he couldn’t make out.

He felt his twin sister’s hand squeeze his hand that she was already holding. He knew his sister was awake and could hear them too. But she kept up with the appearance of being asleep.

They both knew their mother was not crazy. After all, they see them too.

Raven’s son pressed his lips, behind the red figure was another one by the wall, looking at him with a smile and an index finger pressed on it’s lips. 

They all look the same. But they knew there were a lot of them. And one of them was bigger than the rest. 

Their mother called him Trigon.

And he was the one by the wall.

He squeezed his sister’s hand back.  FIN.

[dogstomp]

Dogstomp #3120 - July 17th

Patreon / Discord Server / Itaku / Bluesky

[katiesharms]

34 & 65, jakebradley, xo

(ignoring the fact that you did numbers and not dates :squint:) 34/feb 4 2023 - a sunday kind of love

and i'm on a lonely road that leads to nowhere/i need a sunday kind of love

bradley's first (and probably, if he's being honest with himself, only) memory of father is hazy. warm, dreamy, diluted, like it's been soaked in sepia. if he thinks hard enough, he remembers (or invents) his dad's curly hair, his long limbs, his boisterous laugh, all of it wrapped around his mother as they sway in the kitchen.

for a while, to him, that's what love was. holding your wife in the middle of your kitchen on sunday morning, swaying clumsily to the record playing from the living room, not caring about the pancakes getting burnt. bradley never cared that his breakfast was late and messed up; he wanted to live in that love that blanketed their whole house.

he spent a lot of his 20s chasing that feeling, that half dream, half fantasy of the perfect life. fell into and out of beds and relationships and had his heart pulverized by jake seresin.

(here is where jake would always interject. "i think we were equal opportunity pulverizers. we liked to take turns," he'd say, with a wink lascivious enough to make bradley shiver).

love, after that, became even more of a pie in the sky. just another thing out of bradley's reach. until it's not.

post-mission (pretty much immediately post, as soon as bradley walks out of medical), jake corners him against a wall and kisses the lights out of him. and then he follows bradley home when they dock, and never leaves.

bradley keeps waiting for it to be difficult. for it to fall apart like it did the first time. for jake to look at him and decide he isn't worth it, isn't worth bradley's high walls and terrible communication, worth the nightmares that predate the mission but have only gotten worse since, worth the stupid arguments they still can't stop getting into.

but no matter what, bradley wakes up every morning to see jake's sleeping face. it seeps in slowly, through early mornings and late nights, afternoon runs and evenings at the hard deck. bradley pays it no mind but all of a sudden, his life has that dreamy quality that he hasn't experienced since he was 3 years old.

"i love you," jake says first, because he was always the brave one. it's early in this new relationship, but deep into their knowing each other.

"i—" bradley starts and stops, the words like a brick in his throat. after a pause, jake speaks again.

"i know," he says softly, "take your time."

he's spent so much time thinking that this kind of love wasn't in the cards for him. that he used it all up too early on, soaking in it like a greedy, ungrateful child. bradley had come to think of love as something that doesn't come easy.

but maybe it is easy. maybe it's letting jake try to distract him while he makes their eggs. it's listening to jake complain about the same pilot he's been complaining about for weeks, humming in commiseration and feeling at home as jake's voice blankets him. it's wrapping his arms around jake and swaying with him in the kitchen, the same etta james record his father would play every sunday on.

[kitchen-spoon]

Steddie dads and their daughter Ella. She is 10 and walks home from school and is home alone for 15 minutes while Robin is on her way home from work. She has to call Eddie at the shop to let him know she got home safe. Then Eddie texts Steve and lets him know because Steve can’t answer the phone at the salon.

One day she gets home and calls her dad like usual on his personal phone and lets him know she is home safe the door is locked and she had a good day. Eddie tells her he can’t wait to hear about the rest of her day at dinner. She hangs up puts her stuff away and heads to the kitchen. She always has a snack after school but aunt Robin usually makes her eat something healthy. She tries to call Eddie again on his phone, its only been 5 minutes but he doesn’t answer. She tries again and nothing. Then she calls Aunty Robin but she doesn’t answer either. She resorts to calling the mechanic shop.

“Wayne’s garage, this is Connie how can I help you?”

“Um…hi. I need to ask my daddy a question.”

“Ah hah um okay, and who is your daddy dear.”

“Um..Eddie?…he is my daddy, my papa is Steve. Grandpa Wayne works here too.”

“Oh okay I know who you’re talking about. Let me go get him, one second dear.”

A few moments pass and then Eddie’s frantic voice comes across the line. “Baby are you okay? Are you safe? Aunty Robin said you called her too.”

“I’m fine daddy, I just need to ask you a question.” She huffed.

“Baby.” Eddie let out a long breath. “You scared me! Why where you calling everyone like that?”

“Can I have a popsicle?”

…”what?” Eddie chuckled.

“Can I have a popsicle…please?”

“Yea, you know what sure honey. But we have to talk about a better way to ask next time okay?”

“Ok…so I can have the popsicle?”

Eddie full on laughed this time, “yeah go ahead have a popsicle honey.”

Later that night they talk to Ella about emergencies and a better way to ask next time while she has another popsicle. Steve says she can’t have another tomorrow but Eddie shakes his head and winks at her.

[alpaca-clouds]

Medieval Writing Prompts - Slice of Life Pt. 2

Back to the Slice of Life (but Medieval) prompts. I have for each genre a total of three cards. So I hope you guys appreciate it. :)

Full List under the cut.

Talking around the Fireplace

Everything Stew

Whittling

Sunday Mass

The Harvest Festival

Searching For A Lost Animal

Visiting the City

Water from the Well

Stolen Apples

Staring Contest (with a Cat)

[imaginativeworks]

Imagine your OTP

Person B: “That’s rather flirtatious of you, I don’t think I’ve ever heard something so smooth come from you”

Person A: (shrugs with a slowly growing smile upon their lips) “Ehh, I have my moments.”

[seaside-writings]

Prompt #1,138

"If you had the chance, would you do it all over again?"

"Without question,"

[iamvegorott]

Dapperstache with cooking a new recipe or telling a bedtime story?

Went the bedtime story route: ---------------

On an average night, JJ would get everything ready for bed, himself included, and then convince Wilford to join him. Wilford usually found himself not growing tired till much later in the evening, very late to the point it was early the next day. But if JJ put on a pout and tugged at his arm, he’d agree to go to bed at a somewhat reasonable hour, and laying in bed with JJ would be enough to make him eventually fall asleep. 

But tonight was different. Tonight Wilford found himself making the bed up, setting up their little nightly routines and everything.

Yet JJ was missing. 

Wilford knew JJ spent some time toward the end of the day in the Manor’s library. Maybe he got caught up in a book or something. He made his way to the library, passing by some of the other Egos making their way to bed. Some walked along the hall peacefully, and some had their partner nearly dragging them away from their work, which got Wilford to chuckle. The chuckle became a full laugh when he saw Mad over a shoulder and pouting as he got carried away. Bedtime was always interesting in the Manor. 

“Jamesy?” Wilford peeked into the library, smiling at the sight of JJ curled up on one of the plush chairs, lost within the words on the pages and not hearing him. “Adorable,” Wilford said to himself and went into the room, heading over and getting JJ to notice him by kissing his cheek. 

“Oh! Hello, Wil.” JJ flinched in shock before perking up happily when he realized Wilford was with him. 

“Something tells me you don’t know what time it is,” Wilford said, taking off JJ’s hat and running his hand through his hair. 

“Is it late?” JJ took out his pocket watch, and his eyes widened. “It is very late. I’m normally trying to get you into bed at this point.” He then looked around and noticed that he was the last one in the library. Host or Mad were often still in there by the time he was tired, but he must have been so into his book that he didn’t notice them leaving. “Oh, dear.” 

“Are you not tired at all?” Wilford asked. 

“No, I’m as wide awake as ever.” JJ sighed. 

“Well, let’s head off to bed, and I have a trick I want to try to help you get to sleep,” Wilford suggested. He took a step back so JJ could get out of the chair. 

“I’m surprised you’re not using this as a way to stay up later.” JJ giggled as he took Wilford’s arm, and the two walked back to their bedroom. 

“I would, but your stubbornness has gotten me into somewhat of a routine with you at night, and I don’t feel like ruining it,” Wilford said with a shrug. “Now, I do have everything else set. All I need is you in your jammies and in the bed.” 

“Kind of fun having you get it all ready.” JJ giggled, going off and getting himself into his pajamas. 

“It’s a whole lot of work. I can’t see how you do it every night.” Wilford removed his shirt and pants, leaving himself in his brightly colored boxers, and crawled into the bed. 

“Patience and practice,” JJ said with a prideful nod, slipping on his pajama bottoms, blue with cartoon blueberries all over. They were his favorite pair with how soft they felt, warm but not enough to make him sweat. They were perfect. 

“I have neither.” Wilford waited until JJ finished before holding his arms out, asking JJ to get on top of him. JJ only giggled at Wilford’s comment and then went with the silent request, crawling into Wilford’s lap and resting his head on his chest. 

“So, what is this ‘trick’ you wanted to try?” JJ asked. 

“A very simple one.” Wilford placed both hands on JJ’s back, slowly rubbing them up and down. “I’m going to tell you a bedtime story.” 

“A bedtime story?”

“Yep!” Wilford knew this would work. There had been plenty of times at night when JJ would drift off listening to Wilford rambling on about something. It was likely the warmth of his body, the way he was always giving him gentle touches, and he did have the classic Iplier deep voice that got deeper and rumbly when he was just talking to talk. 

“If you think it’ll work, give it a try.” JJ adjusted himself to be as comfortable as possible and closed his eyes, giving it his all. “Alrighty. Once upon a time-” Wilford paused when that got a little giggle from JJ. “There were two princes who lived in a very large castle with a family larger than one would ever expect them to have.” He kept a steady rhythm with his hands on JJ’s back, purposely speaking softly, which made his voice deeper. He could feel JJ already relaxing more and more as he told his silly tale. “One prince was fairly large, loud, and known to get into trouble, while the other was much smaller, softer, and tried his best to behave. But the smaller prince was in love with the larger prince and would often get caught up in the larger prince’s adventures.” Wilford heard JJ’s breathing deepening and had him limp on top of him. “The smaller prince also always helped care for the larger prince, knowing he would be forgetful and need a little push to do basic things. The smaller prince was a great cook and would use that the bribe the larger prince into eating. The smaller prince was also adorable, using his cute face and natural charm to convince the larger prince to go to bed with him, to get a good night’s sleep, and to have that time to hold each other.” Wilford could feel himself growing tired as well, and he yawned. “The larger prince also loved the smaller prince very much. He was always willing to fight dragons, wizards, and anything evil to have his smaller prince keep his smile. He’d hold the world on his shoulders for the smaller…prince…” His voice started to trail off, and he looked down at JJ, seeing that he had fallen asleep. “And the princes lived happily ever after.” Wilford moved a little to be sure he and JJ were as comfortable as possible, kissing JJ’s head before closing his eyes. “Love you, blueberry.” He whispered as he hugged JJ to his chest and eventually dozed off with him.

-----------

Slife of Life Prompts: Link

[simp-for-long-hair]

please click for better quality

some more fanfic postage stamps ♡

• hanahaki disease • time travel • royalty au • idiots in love • academic rivals • found family • slice of life • secret relationship • mutual pining •

Pt.1

[gregorovitch-adler]

Choice

John and Mariana had come to the supermarket. The market was surprisingly empty, given it was ten in the morning when they arrived.

John and Mariana took their time to examine the products closely in that enormous shop before filling up the trolley.

Mariana walked into the aisle of cereals with her head tipped up a little, evidently relaxed. She always preferred to be in open spaces instead of crowded.

John walked up to her so he could help her pick out some stuff they might need.

It was the weekend, and John had no recordings to make.

The last case they had uploaded was two days ago. Sherlock, John, and Mariana had some time to themselves.

Sherlock had obviously not accompanied them for shopping. John now knew better than to insist on it.

So, here he was, with Mariana, wondering what Sherlock might be up to at home. But John didn't mind spending time with Mariana either.

After heading out of the cereal aisle, they decided they were done. Mariana walked over to the checkout queue.

John was about to follow her, but a pile of yoghurts in the dairy aisle caught his eye. He went there to examine the pile.

He picked out a plain and a honey yoghurt in each of his hands and looked at them closely.

John knew Sherlock had a thing for yoghurts, even though he'd never admit it.

John would just have to buy one of them and keep it in the fridge. The pack would disappear in no time.

Which one was he supposed to buy, though? Difficult choice.

"John! Are you coming?"

John looked up, and noticed that only one person was left in the queue. It would be Mariana's turn for checkout in no time.

"I- er, I'm coming! Just wait." He needed to be quick.

"What are you doing?" she asked loudly from the queue and walked up to John, pulling the trolley with her. "You're confused about which yoghurt to buy? Now? Couldn't you have selected one sooner?" She sounded a bit irritated.

"Yeah, erm, sorry. Which - which one d'you think he'd like?" John cleared his throat.

Mariana knitted her brow for a second, and then she nodded. "Oh, so it's for Sherlock. He loves the honey flavour," she said and dropped the honey yoghurt in the trolley, and placed the plain yoghurt back on the pile.

"Come, now." She grabbed John's arm to take him to the counter.

They were ready to go home once they were done paying for everything.

John smiled to himself. He couldn't wait for the yoghurt pack to magically disappear.

*

Prompt: Choice by @calaisreno

Tags: @helloliriels , @topsyturvy-turtely , @lisbeth-kk , @keirgreeneyes , @jamielovesjam , @gaylilsherlock , @peanitbear , @topsyturvy-turtely .

(Sorry for the delay in participation.)